Chapter Text
Arthur cannot manifest words to describe his most recent sensations. His mind buzzes without feelings for everything around him. The guilt, the sorrow, the ecstasy, the fear, all of it is gone. All he can feel is numbness now. After fifteen unbearable years of being used as a meat suit for a demon with unfathomable power, Arthur feels… nothingness. This should be the happiest day of his life, but it's just… not. He cannot draw worry toward the horrible evil that still looms over the world. He cannot feel fear for the lives of the people he loves. They could all drop dead right in front of him, and he wouldn't even blink.
Arthur had seen it so many times, the flesh torn right from their bodies, innards presented to him as gifts. He had become desensitized to it all, emotionally detached. Yet somewhere within lies a tiny spark, a glimmer of "humanity", for lack of a more proper term. He stands at the foot of the stairs, staring blankly downward. "What is love?" He repeats to himself in his sick, delusional mind, a mind so thoroughly polluted with Vadrigar's degeneracy that he seems to have forgotten even what basic sentient emotions feel like. He closes his eyes… but he can't remember it.
He can barely remember anything that isn't his own torture or the faces of the victims he's watched over and over again. He doesn't remember how they met. A long time ago, long before any of this happened, Arthur, a strapping young lad of fifteen, just like his daughter, fancied himself a hero. He was gonna go out, learn magic, and save the world. It was something he always wanted to do, just be a hero. Always a kind and sensitive child with a spark for adventure, Arthur liked to run away from the dull and mundane nature of chores, away from the prying eyes of his mother and father, shirking his responsibilities and neglecting his family. Arthur was nothing but a hopeless dreamer.
The wide-eyed young man happened upon a shy and quiet axolotl one day into his apprenticeship with another, his father, and he and Arthur became good friends almost immediately. Arthur and Aristotle would frolic through the woods in search of adventure and danger. Aristotle wasn't always so keen on the danger part. Quite frankly, he was a bit of a coward and a nerd, more invested in the educational aspect of adventure, a lot more than the thrill or the danger of encountering wild beasts, exploring dark, spooky, and ominous places, or even working through perilous traps.
The two were best friends, always hanging out at each other's houses, playing board games, and trying out those crude new entertainment systems, some of which both of them are too proud to admit they ever became too good at. To this day, Aristotle remains a wiz at Comet Blaster. There was a point when he could play the game in his sleep after memorizing just where each comet was coded in, recognizing the patterned behavior. That information is probably mostly lost to him now that he's an adult and has largely fallen out of such crude things as video games, but the skill lies dormant, just waiting for that marriage of hand and controller again.
One thing Aristotle always got into that excited Arthur was the inconceivable amount of comics he had stored in his room in this brown, shipping-style cardboard box. Hundreds upon hundreds, sitting in plastic, only allowed to be touched with gloves. Aristotle didn't want anyone to soil his comics, not even his good friend Arthur, but those comics wouldn't go to waste. No, they'd be read, slowly but surely, each one of them, night after night, as Arthur and Aristotle took turns at each other's house after magic practice. They'd lie on the floor, with a comforter situated right on the wooden surface, not exactly the most comfortable of situations, but they didn't care.
Anything was worth it just to see how the death-defying Ace Proctor would use his flight prowess to fight off the endless dogs, rescue the girl, and save the day, or how he'd fly around with a giant bucket and use the water tower to douse the flames rampaging through a burning town. Superheroes, that's what Arthur and Aristotle wanted to be, the guys that protected the innocent from the forces of evil, the people too young, too old, or simply not magically viable or magically competent enough to protect themselves. This simple delusion would fuel Arthur and Aristotle for years.
Every day, they hoped something terrible (but not too terrible) would happen just so they'd have the opportunity to show off their magical prowess against some kooky, random Saturday Morning Cartoon villain like in their comics. But that was a simpler time, a more innocent time. As Arthur and Aristotle grew older and more mature, so would their feelings toward each other. Like most people discovering love for the first time, they were scared. They weren't sure if what they felt was real. The only thing they could do was test the waters, so they did.
The two naïve young men became more than just friends, but weren't exactly too comfortable about being upfront about it at first. Even after all that time, they felt that weird uncertainty among themselves. Could they love other people? Were they exclusive to themselves? They didn't discuss it with others. It was just something that was private between them. But people knew. They all knew. As much as Arthur and Aristotle wanted to keep their love a secret, they were really bad at hiding it, and neither knew they were so bad.
The people just played along and shared winks behind their backs, but nobody ever judged them as they feared. One day, the goat and the axolotl, after finally moving out of their parents' places, got a little place of their own. A mere week into moving in, Aristotle is decorating and still setting everything up when an ecstatic and excited Arthur kicks open the front door, scaring Aristotle half to death.
"Guess what, Bubblegum!"
Aristotle stumbles over the packing box and onto the floor, knocking over absolutely everything and making a massive mess. He growls at Arthur.
"You're gonna fix the hinges on the door?!"
Arthur looks behind him, scoffing.
"Pff! Better! There's a local lunatic on the loose!"
Arthur shoves the local newspaper in Aristotle's face. Aristotle reads.
Montague Moose, a convicted arsonist, burglar, and enthusiast of magical paraphernalia, has escaped the local penitentiary and is on the loose. The moose stands at 8' 3", weighs 600 lbs, and is considered extremely dangerous. If seen, please contact the authorities immediately.
"Arthur, are you nuts?!"
Arthur stands proud and tall in self-declaration.
"Yup!"
Aristotle rises and points to the newspaper.
"It says right here that that guy also collects magical stuff, which means he might be able to counter any magic we throw at him."
Arthur walks up to Aristotle and grabs his face, staring him in the eyes with a deadly serious expression.
"Ari, do you remember when we made a pledge to protect the fine people of Goatshire and beyond?"
Aristotle faces away, trying to think.
"Uhh…"
Arthur interrupts.
"That's right! We said, 'No matter the threat, no matter the odds, we'll kick bad guy booty and show off our bods!'"
Aristotle folds his arms.
"We really oughta change that stupid motto."
Arthur dismisses the notion.
"But now's not the time for that! There's evil afoot!"
Arthur runs out the door and out into the night, and Aristotle just shakes his head.
"Why did I have to fall in love with someone so dumb?”
He sighs.
"Well… at least he's cute."
He shrugs as he follows the young goat out the door. Back in the present, Arthur shakes his head. He's got a throbbing headache, but it's not something any painkillers could suppress. The goat father descends to the bottom of the stairs, where a large group of misfits, some of whom he recognizes, others whom he doesn't, all await him. Without his glasses, he can't make out the distinct details of them. Billie runs up to Arthur and hugs him. The goat-father is winded, uttering an "oof" as his daughter hugs him tightly. She releases him, takes his hoof, and introduces him.
"Everyone? This is my dad."
The people in the room awkwardly stare at him, offering various unenthusiastic and deadpan greetings, all seeming to talk over each other in unison so no one could be heard individually.
"Hey—Hi—What's up?—How's it going?"
He goes to speak, but he just can't form the words. The guilt eats away at him. He put all of them in that situation. He's the reason all of them are here today. He's the reason anything is going wrong that's going wrong. All those people are dead, and it's all his fault. That is the message beaten into his head. It just goes to show, if someone is lied to enough times, eventually they start to believe it. With this, he just kinda brushes his ear over his shoulder and walks silently into the kitchen. They follow him. With their eyes. Gabrielle approaches him.
"Arthur. It's good to see you up and about. How are you feeling, sweetheart?"
Gabrielle checks various vitals, placing her hoof knuckles to his neck to check his pulse, and feeling his forehead to see if he has a fever. She nods and looks him in the eyes.
"Looks like you're fine for right now. If we're gonna go into the northern mountains, we should make sure we have everything we'll need."
She walks into the living room.
"Belle, Aristotle, kids, you all checked in to make sure you have everything, right?"
Belle and Aristotle nod. Lily approaches Gabrielle, still holding the withering Barnaby.
"T-thanks for explaining the situation to my dads. They would have never let me go on my own without your help."
Gabrielle folds her arms, smiling weakly in response. The bags under her eyes are a canvas for her anxiety and stress. She hadn't even applied her makeup today.
"They're worried sick, but after I explained the situation, they knew it couldn't be helped and that you'd need to be checked for soul burn as well."
Arthur sits silently at the table, staring blankly at the little imperfections in the wood. Aristotle sits across from him, neither speaking nor judging him, simply staring sadly. He remembers. He remembers that same day, in fact. He couldn't forget. Arthur had run out the door to pursue Montague Moose. Hot on the pursuit, Arthur begins snooping around town, asking the locals tons of annoying questions, and generally snooping. Aristotle follows Arthur to the most recent tragedy, the local library. This ticks Arthur off big time. How in the world would they ever obtain the next issue of The Vengeful Phantom Crusher now? At only 59 issues, the last story had left off on a cliffhanger, and they waited months for the thrilling conclusion to find out if Lady Catherine would be buried alive, or if her daring hero would swoop in and rescue her just in the nick of time.
Arthur approaches the smoldering remains of the store. He treads through the still-standing doorway, and the frame collapses behind him, startling Aristotle, who was standing mere feet away.
"Arthur! Are you okay?!"
Arthur coughs, waving away the dust.
"Yeah. I'm fine."
Gingerly, Aristotle treads over the debris, watching closely for broken glass so he doesn't cut his bare feet. Arthur approaches the shelves where the books once lay in stacks of neatly arranged comics. Aristotle despairs, a long scowl hangs on his face as he holds a desecrated and burnt novel before him, the pages burnt black, and then he drops it to the floor, accepting that nothing is salvageable. The eerie and solemn silence of the ruined store is broken by the voice of a young man leaning on the window frame.
"Well, well, well. What have we here?"
The goat and axolotl peer over to the window frame as a strange man, a chimera, hangs over the sill of the building, leaning on one hand as if struck with boredom.
"Perpetrators, returned to the scene of the crime, perhaps?"
The young man chuckles to himself as he removes himself from the window, walking slowly with a swagger, his hands sunken into his pants pockets over the front door where he can be seen in full view. Aristotle eyes the creature up and down with a look of suspicion.
"And you are?"
The chimera treads over the debris, almost ignoring the axolotl for a moment as he examines his claws with egotistical self-interest.
"Dimitri."
He freezes for a second and points at them.
"Wait a minute. You two don't recognize me? Dimitri the Chimera? Dimitri, the local hero? Dimitri the dashing extraordinaire?"
Arthur and Aristotle shrug. Arthur admits.
"Nope. Never seen you before in my life."
Dimitri rolls his black-rimmed eyes with a fang-toothed sneer. Aristotle folds his arms.
"What's this all about?"
As Dimitri turns around, a long creature uncoils itself from around the Chimera, and a snake rises into the air with a hiss.
"Don't feel bad. Nobody knowsss Dimitri."
Dimitri grabs his snake tail by the neck, pulling the snake to his face and threatening him. The snake looks terrified.
"What have I told you about speaking out of line? Hm?"
The snake chokes, gazing up at his master with error in his crepuscular slits.
"You sssaid that you would cut out my forked tongue and feed it to me."
Dimitri comes face to face with the tail, staring coldly into the poor creature's eyes as Aristotle clears his throat. Dimitri realizes he's being watched and releases the snake.
"I mean, of course, I would never do that to my beloved Snakey-wakey."
Dimitri kisses the snake on the head, and the snake recoils at his disingenuousness.
"I apologize for his rudeness, as well as mine. It's been a rather long night."
Arthur approaches him.
"So if you're a local hero, that means we're on the same side. You see, I'm Arthur, and this is Aristotle, and we're investigating the source of the fire as well."
He shrugs as he approaches Dimitri with a naïve smile.
"Maybe we could work together to solve this little dilemma."
Arthur extends his hoof for a shake, smiling up at Dimitri. Dimitri stares at the hoof in disgust. He then changes his face to a smug, fanged grin as he declines, pushing the hoof down with his finger.
"Sorry, but I work alone."
He shrugs as he walks away.
"Besides, I already have a lead anyway. Certainly, you gentlemen noticed the gasoline odor in the corner of the room, correct?"
Arthur sniffs.
"Gasoline?"
Aristotle interrupts.
"Where are you smelling gasoline?"
The snake answers.
"Jussst follow your nossse."
Dimitri snaps his finger, and the snake coils around his waist. Dimitri proceeds out of the store, disappearing in a cloud of smoke. Aristotle shakes his head.
"I don't trust that guy, Arthur."
Arthur approaches, scratching his head.
"Any particular reason why?"
He begins walking. Aristotle follows.
"Take it from me. Never trust a man who wears eyeliner."
Aristotle returns to the modern day when he stares at Arthur, his eyes drawn away as Billie approaches her father. She takes his hoof in hers and smiles at him. He looks at her and feigns a weak smile back at her, then at everyone else. Billie shrugs as she speaks to her father. She looks him in the eyes with a pained expression and speaks to him softly.
"Everyone's worried about you, Dad. Why don't you talk to them?"
Arthur takes a moment to mull over it and then nods, sighing through his nose. He rises and turns around to address them. He speaks to them tiredly, with no enthusiasm behind his voice whatsoever, but with a hint of genuine kindness, a tiny glimmer of the kind and gentle man he once was and has returned to being.
"I, uh… I just want to say… t-thank you… a-all of you… For all that you've done for me. I never… thought I'd see any of you again, at least… not outside my nightmares. I'm still not even sure what's real anymore. I wish I could feel happier, but for some reason, I can't. I… don't want to seem ungrateful to any of you, because if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here. I don't know what the future holds in store for me. All I know is that I don't feel hopeful about the future. What was inside of me is now no longer bound to my body. All I can think of is what he's doing to someone out there right this very second. Nobody is safe, least of all any of you. The sad truth is, you're only delaying the inevitable. He's gonna come for all of you… And he will slaughter every one of you, and then he's going to kill me."
Arthur scowls at the ground. He bites his lip, fighting with the words that just escaped his mouth.
"Sorry… It's been so long, I've forgotten that you're not supposed to say the quiet part out loud. I guess I'll just keep to myself then."
Arthur goes to walk outside to get some fresh air when Belle grabs him by the arm.
"You can't go out there yet. You're a wanted man. What if someone sees you?"
He sighs.
"Fine."
Little Lily walks up to him with tiny Barnaby in a swaddle. He wheezes, and he's so tired he can barely register what's going on. Her eyes are soulful and desperate, red and puffy as if she'd been crying all night.
"Hey, Mr. Billie's dad?"
He looks down at her with a completely dead expression.
"Is there anything you can do to help Barnaby? Do you know any magic that can fix a ghost?"
Arthur looks down at the tiny creature. Pathetic, the owl coughs, curling into a ball as Lily caresses him gently. Arthur looks back at her.
"No."
He doesn't intend to be so distant, but beyond the initial backflow of emotion just after his release from Vadrigar, he has nothing left. What would ordinarily have him scramble desperately for a solution barely registers a response from him. He doesn't want to feel this way. He just does. As Arthur tries to find a means of doing something with himself, Lewis tends to Fantoccio.
"So, how are you feeling?"
He asks. Fantoccio tries to stand. He's wobbly and weak from the fight, but the potion did help. He looks over at Arthur with a hardened scowl, unable to help but feel some sort of personal resentment.
"I can still feel the crack in my chest from where he tore the gem out. I'm not in much pain anymore, thanks to that potion, but I'm not one hundred percent yet."
Fanto peers curiously around the room.
"Look, uh… thanks for looking after me, Lewis. I'm fine now."
Fanto spots Lily, resting drearily on the recliner with Barnaby. He looks back at Lewis.
"Maybe we could check on your girlfriend and Barnaby. Doesn't look like either of them is doing too hot."
Lewis looks over at her and rises to his feet. He lowers his ears sadly and sighs as they approach together. Lewis climbs up on the seat next to her and looks down at the tiny Barnaby. Fanto feels guilty. He knows very well he had no part in Barnaby's condition, yet a strong feeling of conviction rises from within him.
"May I… take care of the owl for a while?"
Lily looks at him, uncertain and reluctant. She requests clarification.
"A-are you sure you want to do this?"
Fanto nods, reaching out. Lily looks at Lewis, and Lewis nods in confirmation. Lily acquiesces before gently lowering the swaddled bird into Fantoccio's arms. Barnaby lies there with his beak open. He doesn't make any noise and is apparently finally asleep. Fanto gazes with sorrow at the two tired goats, heavy bags forming under their eyes.
"You two look exhausted. Maybe you should take a nap before we gotta go."
Lewis and Lily exchange tired smiles. He leans his head on hers, and she on his soft shoulder. He yawns.
"You don't have to tell me twice."
Arthur waits. Everyone around him is preparing for this journey just for him, and yet he still doesn't quite have a clue what's going on. He wants to leave, but he's just stuck there, waiting for everyone else to make their move. He watches as Belle assists Gabrielle. He remembers them vaguely from his past, ghosts, drowned out by chaos, playing on the monitor of his brain like static TV fuzz, the result of a bad signal. Of course, that makes sense given the storm raging through his mind for the last decade and a half. He recalls only tiny, bite-sized portions.
He closes his eyes, trying to remember something, anything, such as the next portion of the mystery of the burnt store. Arthur and Aristotle are tipped toward another fire raging across town by an anonymous individual. Together, they race toward the scene aboard the Broom Brolley. Young Aristotle wasn't quite as keen a flyer as he is now. The ride proves to be shaky, and the duo loses some precious time, arriving late to the scene to find that a familiar individual had Montague Moose right where he wanted him. A crowd surrounds the two. Arthur and Aristotle arrive on the scene and push their way through the crowd. Dimitri and the black mage Montague Moose Stand across from each other in a battle-ready stance. Dimitri mocks the moose.
"You're sloppy, Montague. Following the gasoline evidence, noting that the gasoline in relation to each crime was always found on the scene just a day prior, allowed me to anticipate your next target, the local card shop. I must ask, though. What's your beef with literature, moose?"
Aristotle rolls his eyes at that terrible pun, and Arthur elbows him in the gut, reminding him of being guilty of his own groaners.
"These stores have all banned the sale of black magic books. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to obtain the proper resources for teaching pupils about its destructive power?!"
Dimitri summons a purple aura around his left hand, and he stands there threateningly, awaiting the moose to attempt to thwart him. Aristotle notices the tail trying to speak, the snake bound in a gag. What does the Chimera not want him to say? Curious. The moose lashes out, sending a molten blast of heat lightning straight at Dimitri. The chimera displays his agility as he leaps over the blast in a flip and sends a long, snake-like spell, a long, glowing green snake straight toward the moose. Montague proves to be quicker than he looks, and he dodges the coiling, green monster as it tries to wrap itself around the moose.
Reeling back, Dimitri utilizes the green snake to spit massive, green projectiles and balls of acid toward the moose as Montague hurls left and right ice and fire blasts at the snake. The snake spell recoils, shaking its head as the ice begins to slow the spell. Dimitri retracts the spell back into his hand and then tries another tactic. He allows himself to collapse face-first to the ground, and he dissolves into a black spell, a shadow. Dimitri slinks and slides along the ground toward the moose, and Montague doesn't know how to react. He fires spell after spell at the ground, with each blast doing little more than destroying the stone pavement. Before Montague Moose, the figure of Dimitri rises from the ground. Unleashing the green snake spell once again, the long maw extends outward toward Montague, launching him back and into the wall of the building behind him with enough force to cause him to crash loudly, forming a giant crack in the wall.
Montague holds the massive snake's maw open with his muscular hooves, biceps pulsing as he tries to gain enough leverage to toss the snake to the ground. Summoning every last ounce of strength, Montague unleashes an adrenaline-filled war cry as he whips the snake, the momentum traveling all the way to Dimitri and tossing the chimera high into the air. Montague unleashes an electric current through the snake, electrocuting Dimitri as he flails through the air, screaming in agony as the energy pulses through him. Arthur and Aristotle turn to each other, and with a nod, they spring into action. Aristotle clones himself and masks Dimitri as he writhes on the ground. The clones attack Montague with attacks of their own, while the real Aristotle attends to Dimitri.
"Are you okay? Do you have any burns?"
He reaches down, grabbing Dimitri's arm, and the chimera slaps his hand away.
"Stay out of my way! I got a handle on this!"
Meanwhile, Arthur approaches Montague, utilizing golden whips, flailing from afar, and slapping at Montague Moose. The moose grabs the end of the golden strings, but they singe his hooves. The burns are agonizing, and he holds his wrists.
"You'll pay for that, goat!... So… you want to turn up the heat, eh? Wanna play with fire?! You're gonna get burned!"
The moose ignites a white fire covering his whole body. Montague Moose charges toward Arthur, rolling himself into a ball. Wide-eyed and surprised, Arthur leaps out of the way as Aristotle tries to argue with Dimitri.
"Let me go! I said I didn't need help—"
A massive fireball hurls toward them at rapid speed, and with great haste, Aristotle tackles Dimitri into a roll. Opening their eyes, Dimitri shoves Aristotle away in disgust.
"What are you doing?!"
Aristotle rises, brushing himself off.
"Saving your life, Mr. Ungrateful!"
Dimitri leans forward, shouting at Aristotle.
"Just stay out of it!"
Meanwhile, Arthur is going nuts on Montague Moose. He's unleashing everything he can as far as his understanding of magic goes. Aristotle runs up and joins in. Eventually, dousing the flaming moose and sending him to the ground, knocking him unconscious as the authorities arrive on the scene. The people cheer on Arthur and Aristotle, running up and hauling the two in the air over their heads and down the streets. But Arthur feels bad and asks to be let down.
"Fellas! Fellas!… Gosh, we really appreciate this, thank you, but we couldn't have done it without Dimitri. He deserves just as much celebration as we do."
Dimitri is entirely caught off guard.
"W-what?!"
The people surround Dimitri, and he looks at Arthur and Aristotle and backs into the wall as his snake tail looks up at him, angry, the sock gag still in the snake's mouth. Dimitri has a choice now. Does he fess up to rigging the fires by causing the prison break to release Montague Moose, or does he claim the false glory granted to him by Arthur and Aristotle and enjoy a false sense of celebration, the threat of his exposure looming over his head? Well, there is the third option, the one, of course, where he comes off the best. Dimitri composes himself, clearing his throat.
"No. No. No. I couldn't possibly claim responsibility for this victory. The real credit should go to Armand and Artemis here."
Dimitri throws his arms over their shoulders, pretending to be humble and selfless before the people, saving face. Arthur corrects him.
"That's Arthur and Aristotle."
Dimitri rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, whatever."
The clever chimera slithers away, walking backward.
"Perhaps it's a good thing."
He shrugs.
"This town's a little bit safer with three heroes keeping an eye out for evil. But for now, I must bid you adieu. Farewell, ladies and gentlemen!"
Dimitri tosses a smoke bomb to the ground, disappearing in thin air as the others choke on the smoke. The people disperse, and everything goes back to normal. The duo looks at each other, wondering what happened, as Montague Moose is taken into custody. The next night, back at home, Arthur and Aristotle plan their next move. Arthur sits on the low couch in the living room, deep in thought. That snake knows something, and Arthur knows if he can get the creature to spill the beans, they can expose the fraud for what he is.
"You're not still stewing over Dimitri, are you?"
Aristotle walks over with two cups of coffee. He places his own on a coaster and hands the other mug to Arthur, who just stares blankly into space. Arthur wags his finger in a declaration.
"He had that snake tail of his bound and gagged. He didn't want that snake to tell us what's up."
Aristotle sips at his hot coffee.
"Well, you watched how it spoke out of line, disobedient of its master."
Arthur sips at his warm, beige beverage as Aristotle places his mug down on the coaster.
"What if we find out where he lives?"
Arthur looks up at him, a brow raised.
"You want us to invade his privacy?"
Aristotle shrugs.
"We might not have to be all that sneaky about it, really. There are plenty of busybodies all throughout Goatshire. I would know. I'm one of them."
He chuckles, but Arthur doesn't laugh. Aristotle clears his throat as he ceases laughing at his own joke in bad taste.
"Anyway, the real way to find out anything about anything is to start asking all the old biddies around town. The senior center down the road, for example, is just chock-full of retired hens who have nothing better to do than start drama and spread rumors. Joannie from down the street, whose grandfather is living there, told me that Dimitri sometimes makes stops at the home to entertain the elders. It's part of his whole good boy facade."
Arthur turns himself sideways, leaning against the armrest of the sofa as he addresses Aristotle.
"You think they know anything about Dimitri?"
Aristotle rolls his eyes.
"He's a young man, and they pay particular attention to them even when they've made it explicitly clear they have no interest. Gosh, 98-year-old Nadine, bless her heart, if she's out in the front yard, she hits on me every single time, and you know what? I just play along."
He chuckles.
"I think she hits on like every guy that walks in there. You should see it, she's like 'Hey there, hot stuff, you want to hit the dance floor with me this weekend?' and I'm like 'Sure, Nadine, it's a date!' She doesn't remember none of that stuff anyway."
Arthur laughs at the absurdity.
"It's really sweet of you to indulge in that old woman like that. Who knows how long she has left?"
Aristotle waves dismissively.
"Anyway, I've deviated from the point, which is, these women have no filters, and you'd be surprised how much they know."
Arthur is suspicious.
"How do you know about this?"
Aristotle confesses.
"My dad used to contribute there all the time, and there were days he'd bring me to work with him."
Arthur thinks. Together, they finish their coffee. The next day, Arthur and Aristotle pay a little trip down to the senior center. If anyone asks, they're just there to see their grandparents. They pass good ol' Nadine.
"Hey, look, girls. It's my boyfriend. And he brought another hunk with him."
Aristotle snorts, leaning into Arthur.
"Watch this."
He approaches Nadine.
"Yeah, Nadine. It's me. You caught me red-handed."
Aristotle rolls his eyes with a wide grin, and Arthur chuckles. Nadine stares at Arthur through squinted eyes. Her glasses are thick enough to concentrate a laser pointer and turn it into a doomsday weapon. Her toothless, wrinkled mouth hangs agape. Aristotle asks her some questions. He has to speak loudly because she's hard of hearing, but at the same time, he's trying not to yell.
"So, Nadine, has a young man named Dimitri been stopping by to see you?"
Nadine looks thoroughly confused for a second, but then she nods, her jaw kind of flapping.
"Huh?… Yeah, yeah. He's the young man with the snake, right? Yeah, he's always bringing me pudding, banana, coconut custard, and he even makes his own cheesecake pudding and brings it in. Do you young men want any? I got plenty left over. He just spoils me, I tell ya."
Arthur listens, and he can hear someone talking just outside the room. He peers in the doorway and shuts it hastily. Arthur whispers loudly.
"Crap! Ari, he's right outside! What do we do?"
Aristotle thinks for a moment.
"Okay, I've got an idea. Follow my lead."
Aristotle casts a disguise spell on them. Aristotle turns himself into a nerdy, mustachioed doctor with a doctor's coat, and Arthur into an elderly version of himself, using the Broom Brolley as a cane. Dr. Aristotle escorts the elderly Arthur out of the room.
"Okay, Mr. Goatseville, we're going to go outside so you can get fresh air, okay?"
Arthur hams it up, trying to act as elderly as possible, believing it to be more convincing. Dimitri looks at them suspiciously as they walk by, but then shrugs.
"Back in my day, we didn't have inside. Everywhere was outside!"
Aristotle whispers. Looking behind to make sure Dimitri wasn't paying attention.
"Tone it down, hon."
Arthur nods disappointingly. He wanted it to be convincing. He was just having fun.
"Okay."
Outside and around the corner, they wait for Dimitri to leave.
"He's taking his sweet time in there."
Arthur whines, leaning against the side of the building as Aristotle peers around the corner. Arthur continues.
"If it were any later, all those oldies would be asleep already—"
Aristotle pulls his head around the corner.
"Sh—Oh my gosh… he's coming."
The chimera treads out of the hospital, whistling to himself as he walks slowly along the road in their direction. Arthur and Aristotle are quick to hide in one of the little hedge bushes. Dimitri stops in his tracks, looking off to the side at the bush, two pairs of eyes watching him as they try to remain still as can be. Dimitri shrugs.
"Huh, hedges with eyes. Now I've seen everything."
He continues on his way, and Arthur follows his movement, "There's no way he can be that stupid," races through their minds. Nevertheless, he slowly swivels his way home, stopping like the protagonist of some stage play musical to swing himself around street poles and everything. Arthur and Aristotle merely lift their bush disguise like a skirt and walk in sync as they follow, stopping every so often as he becomes suspicious of his surroundings. The man walks before a giant, black house done up in little bits of color, oranges, greens, and things to spruce it up with color, his house somewhat like a gaudy Halloween store. Shifting through his pockets with his tongue hanging off to the side, the two watch as he fumbles around for the key, cursing to himself as he drops the thing on the ground.
He opens the door and shuts it loudly as the two can finally take the bush off. Arthur and Aristotle toss the mess of greenery to the ground and shake themselves off. Aristotle spits out a leaf, and Arthur doesn't even notice the stick still in his hair. The creepy eavesdroppers watch as Dimitri flips on the TV. They watch with mutual raised brows as the man who prides himself in this manly and heroic superhero persona watches romantic comedies and slaps his knee as if the jokes were even remotely funny. His tail raises itself before him, whining. It gives him "the look", the cute, sad puppy eyes look. Dimitri sighs.
"Fine. You know I can't resist that look. You promise to behave yourself from now on?"
The snake nods. He's desperate to have the sock removed from his mouth. Dimitri concedes, removing the sock from his mouth and tossing it to the floor. The snake hisses in frustration.
"You could at leassst ussse a clean sssock."
The snake recoils and shivers, unable to get the taste of sweat or the stench of foot out of his mouth. Dimitri handles the snake by the chin, holding him face-to-face so that he can gaze into the snake's eyes and make his point clear. He sighs, his face turning from serious to sympathetic. He smiles at the snake.
"Sorry. You know I love you, Snaky-Poo, but I can't be a hero… or a villain… with you constantly blabbing my intentions to the world. You know this."
He lays the snake's head on his chest, stroking the creature as he continues to watch his movie.
"I just wish you and I could be on the same page for once."
The snake feels bad. He lowers his snout in shame and looks soulfully up at Dimitri.
"I'm sssorry, massster."
Dimitri shrugs.
"Hush now. Cuddle with me."
The snake lies on his chest, looking out toward the TV.
"What are we watching, massster?"
The snake asks. Dimitri responds musically with a fanged smile.
"Your favorite. I know you love romantic comedies, Snaky."
The snake smiles up at him with bright eyes.
"Can we watch the next episssode of Elissse after thisss? I want to know if ssshe ever findsss out if Fernando'sss been cheating on her."
Dimitri smiles down, leaning back on the couch as he and the tail happily watch TV. Arthur and Aristotle sit on the ground beneath the windowsill. Arthur fumes. They try to whisper without being loud enough for Dimitri to hear, but loud enough to hear each other.
"That fiend!"
Aristotle says.
"I know! Gagging with a dirty sock, being emotionally abusive, and enjoying daytime television! What a monster!"
Arthur responds. They can hear the chimera laughing from inside. He continues.
"We should go back home so we can plan out how to catch Dimitri red-handed."
Arthur moves to get up, and Aristotle pulls him back down.
"What?"
Aristotle smiles at him cheekily.
"I wanna find out if Fernando's cheating on Elise."
Arthur just stares at him in a deadpan manner and rises. Aristotle follows with a sigh, chasing Arthur down the road.
"What?! They're a cute couple!"
Modern-day Arthur is brought back to reality when modern-day Aristotle shakes him on the shoulder, waking him up. He smiles at Arthur, desperate to get him to show even the faintest sign of happiness. He just looks at Aristotle and sighs through his nose. Aristotle's warm expression melts.
"Having a hard time processing everything, huh?"
Arthur just lies on his folded arms coldly, staring out into nothingness and speaking in an apathetic tone.
"I'm not processing anything. If we're gonna leave, let's just leave and get this over with."
Aristotle nods as he thinks for a moment.
"Maybe I can help."
Arthur looks at him suspiciously.
"What are you thinking?"
Aristotle takes his hand. He massages it warmly.
"I wanna try to find out what's going on up in your mind and your spirit. Maybe I can help you."
Arthur faces away, skeptical. Aristotle continues.
"It's worth a shot, right?"
Arthur closes his eyes and accepts the proposal.
"Fine."
Aristotle elaborates.
"This is just gonna be a little test. Close your eyes."
Arthur does so, and Aristotle places his warm palm on his forehead. Suddenly, Arthur is whisked away on some sort of out-of-body experience. Arthur stands in a large, mostly empty room with four pale blue walls and a beige carpet.
"Huh? What have you done to me? Where am I?"
Before him are two beds. A voice calls out to him from nowhere, a familiar and kind voice.
"This first one is very easy. Which is the bed you would rather sleep in?
The bed on the left is neat and tidy. The other has the sheets and comforter tossed to the side. Otherwise, they are identical. Arthur tries to find the source of the voice, a location, but he cannot discern it. He approaches the beds, shrugging.
"I fail to see what choosing a bed has to do with anything, but okay."
Arthur moves toward the made bed, pulling the covers to the side and climbing in. The voice speaks again.
"Curious. You've chosen the made-up bed for the unmade one, even though you have now made them identical."
Arthur rolls his eyes.
"Is there a point to any of this?"
"You've chosen the side with the made bed, which seems to indicate a desire to sleep on one tended by another. You don't wish to be alone."
Arthur pulls the covers over himself and lies on his side, squishing the pillow with a saddened expression on his face. His face turns to anger as he grips the pillow tightly.
"The point is, I haven't been alone. I've been stuck with him for years, stuck with him as he stripped away anything meaningful you had to me, any desire I had to protect you. I got to watch you die, over and over again, until I couldn't feel anymore. Besides, how do I know I didn't make that bed myself?"
Arthur sleeps. As he lies in the first real comfort he's felt in his own bed, he is jolted awake by immense cold. Now he is on a mountain. As he rises from his bed, he is now adorned in a thick puffer coat and scarf.
"Huh? Where did this come from?"
He throws the sheets to the side and rises from the bed that is now soaked in cold snow. Before him is Belle, bare and shivering, a figure he should care about deeply. Arthur takes a moment to examine the test, ignoring that every second is another step toward Belle experiencing hypothermia.
"I assume you understand this test, Arthur? You are a smart cookie, after all."
Arthur treads forward, placing his hooves in his pocket. He walks right past Belle.
"Of course I understand. You wanna see if I'll offer my coat to Belle, a test of selflessness and compassion. Unfortunately for you, I know none of this is real, Belle isn't real, and you're not really there, so none of this matters. But I know that I'm real, and I know that I'm freezing, and because of that, I will not give her my coat, no matter how much she means to me in real life."
After a few seconds of silence, the voice responds. It sounds sad and almost disappointed in tone.
"How can you be certain the coldness you're experiencing is real? How can you be sure hers isn't?"
Arthur bundles up, ignoring the woman on the mountain.
"Because I know you're not as cruel as he is."
The mountain rumbles, and Arthur is startled. He falls to his rear end. The sky turns red, and the mountainside crumbles to reveal an entrance. Belle melts into a pile of flesh, bones, and innards on the side of the mountain as the snow melts from the intense heat. Arthur approaches the cave, removing the puffer coat as the coat disintegrates in thin air. Arthur descends through the darkness, creating a magical light orb over his hand so that he can see. The cave drips and creaks, but otherwise, there is nothing but silence. Then, the rocks give way, and Arthur plummets down into an abyss.
Arthur rises, clearing his vision as a being stands before him, a specter he'd only been able to see in his nightmares. The figure of his nightmares stands before him, the figure of a tall, human male, the one whose world he had witnessed. The man wears all black and has a long, tangled, black mane. The man, toned and muscular, turns to reveal himself, the red eyes, familiar and, even still, unnatural and unwelcoming. The form of Viktor Von Savage approaches the goat. Arthur backs away from the man as he approaches slowly with his arms folded behind his back. The man smiles, his red eyes burning through his brow line, his long bangs draping over his face. Vadrigar speaks through the man.
"You thought you could escape me. You thought you were safe in the sickeningly sweet caress of your family. How many times must I tell you, Arthur? There is no escaping me."
Arthur falls on his rear end. He fires projectile spell after projectile spell, fireballs, and meteor blasts. Vadrigar deflects them with ease as he approaches slowly until he hovers over the goat. Arthur shouts at the top of his lungs.
"Dear God! What do you want with me?! What did I ever do to you?! Why won't you leave me and my family alone?!"
Arthur rages, channeling an excess of magic. He lashes out at Vadrigar, and the demon smiles maniacally, taking every blow like a champ, stumbling only slightly as blow after blow lands square on his jaw. Arthur proceeds to hail magic blasts at him for nearly a minute as the demon cackles.
"Yes! Show me your wrath! Make me bleed, goat! Let that rage burn through your veins! Exacerbate the soul burn!"
Withered and worn, Arthur heaves a heavy breath. He falls back on his rear end, gasping for breath as Vadrigar approaches, the heels of his boots crunching on the stone ground. The demon stands above Arthur with his hand extended. The form of Viktor Von Savage melts to show Aristotle beneath and the world around him; the illusion disappears, revealing he is in the kitchen once again. Aristotle stares down at Arthur, tears forming in the goat's eyes, and is wrought with confusion. Aristotle speaks.
"I'm sorry I had to do that, but I had to make you remember who you are and what really matters."
Aristotle reaches down to pull Arthur up, and Arthur looks at his hand, accepting his help. As Aristotle goes on to continue his explanation, Arthur decks him right in the face, sending the axolotl backward onto the floor.
"You think it's okay to try and teach me a lesson like that?! Do you think it's okay to mimic his presence in an attempt to scare me straight?! Have I not suffered enough?!"
Arthur approaches Aristotle, standing right on top of him as everyone else watches in shock. He stares right into Aristotle's eyes, pointing down at him. He means every word.
"Don't you ever pull a stunt like that again, or so help me, I will never speak to you again!”
Belle runs up to Aristotle to check on him.
"Oh, my gosh! Are you okay?"
Aristotle massages his cheek."
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Belle runs to the refrigerator to grab some ice cubes and wraps them in a rag. She holds it to Aristotle's face, and he takes it.
"Thank you."
She lifts him up.
"Do you want me to talk to him?"
Aristotle shakes his head.
"No. Just leave him alone. In hindsight, I probably deserve that."
Belle looks him in the eyes sternly.
"Nobody deserves to get punched in the face for trying to help them."
Belle walks outside and follows Arthur out into the backyard. He lies low, so people won't see him. The stifling air in the house with all those people is getting to him. She approaches him, sitting next to him, and he ignores her.
"You know, keeping everything all bottled up inside isn't going to help you, Arthur. If you have something to say, you should say it. We're all here for you. You have so many people who love you—"
Arthur stands up and interrupts her.
"Yeah! And I put them all in danger! Everything wrong that's happened in the last fifteen years is my fault, Belle! Do you have any idea how many people are dead because of me, because of my selfishness, because I couldn't take the anguish like a champ?! Because I got weak and surrendered myself to that monster?! I… watched so many people die, Belle. Hundreds… Thousands… And my only defense mechanism, the only way I could even bear any of it, was by shutting myself off to the world, by allowing myself to become numb. There was a period of time when you could drop dead right in front of me, and I wouldn't care because that's how tired I was. Do you even realize how messed up that is? Do you know the kind of mental gymnastics I had to do just to stay alert?!"
Arthur bites his lip.
"The sooner we go out to the mountains, and the sooner I fix this… soul burn or whatever, the better. Because I… I can't be around people like this… I gotta fix this, 'cause I can't live like this."
He treads inside. Trying to calm himself, he tries to remember the rest of that story, the time he and Aristotle thwarted Dimitri. Following the chimera the next day, they watched as he snuck around town. Dimitri was extra suspicious this morning, peering around corners, paranoid, looking for strange bushes with eyeballs. Alas, none were found. Arthur and Aristotle are more properly hidden this time around, using an invisibility spell in preparation for sneaking up on the fool and finding out just what kind of no-good misdeed he was up to this time. Would it be a robbery, a murder, or would it be another round of arson? Montague Moose was no longer around to take the fall, no longer a red herring to distract from Dimitri's horrible acts.
The chimera played coy for a little bit, just in case someone was trailing him, and he went into a local coffee shop to get his morning coffee. A jaded teenager working at a register, a young calf with large gauges in her ears, winds up making the elaborate sugary drink and goes about her business as Dimitri lounges at a table and reads the morning funnies. "He's being boring on purpose", they surmise, but he's not gonna fool Arthur and Aristotle. You have to get up pretty early in the morning to pull a fast one on them… at least an hour earlier. Then it's over to a local bar. It's awfully early, and only the seediest of degenerates would frequent a bar before afternoon, but Dimitri needs a sucker, another fool to play the part, another fall boy for his red herring.
Arthur and Aristotle peer into the bar, done up like a Western saloon, a kooky gimmick for sure, but it attracts enough attention. Dimitri shuffles his way over to a few temperamental-looking folks playing blackjack in the corner of the room. He practically has to make a door through the thick smoke just to make their way to him. The eldest one, the leader, a big bull with a hard, red sclera, shoots his eyes at Dimitri, and the chimera already feels like he has a whole six-round chamber loaded into his chest. He hesitates for a bit, somewhat intimidated. But he cools himself, clearing his throat as he leans on the table, asserting his dominance.
"How would you guys like to make some really easy money?"
The men beside the bull lower their cards and draw their eyes, like laser scopes, over to Dimitri. They're listening. The bull sneers, the ring in his nostrils banging against his septum. The fat cigar wiggles in his mouth as he lets out a deep baritone like a foghorn to answer him.
"What're you talkin' about, snake boy?"
Dimitri looks at his nails as he leans on the table, pretending to feign interest.
"Well, what I'm talking about is a little deal. You see, I'm actually quite wealthy, and there's a lotta people with their hands, hooves, wings, paws… in my pocket, because I'm just such a generous guy. I love nothing more than to distribute my wealth to, uh, let's just say, less than fortunate individuals."
The men just stare at him like they have no idea what he's talking about. The bull with the black hat rises from his chair and stands opposingly over Dimitri, drowning him in a harsh shadow.
"Boy, you better start makin' sense, or I'll fill you fulla holes."
Dimitri recoils. On the outside, he appears intimidated, but on the inside, he's simply facepalming.
"Okay, here's the deal. You commit some sort of dastardly act, a crime of sorts, I swoop in to save the day, we have a little tussle, fight it out, make it convincing, and you gentlemen are apprehended by the authorities and thrown in the slammer, I, using little favors, have you released, and I pay you a large sum of money."
The bull stares at him, measuring the chimera up and down. The bull shows that he's smarter than he looks.
"Sounds pretty disproportionate. Where in the world are you gettin' the kinda money to dish out like that?"
Dimitri grins smugly as he addresses the bull. Arthur sneaks up behind Dimitri, still masked by the invisibility. Dimitri's snake tail maintains a shameful, quiet appearance as Arthur approaches. The snake can taste Arthur's scent. The snake stares right at Arthur, and he shushes the tail. He whispers to the snake.
"If you don't rat us out, I'll remove your gag. Deal?"
Aristotle panics, muttering to himself in panic, whispering a yell.
"Arthur! What are you doing?!"
Arthur raises a hand to calm the axolotl before turning to the snake.
"Well."
The snake stares for a second, contemplating. He then offers a slight nod. Gently, Arthur removes the gag from his mouth. The snake rises above the table as if to rat out Arthur, but instead, something more surprising comes out.
"Oh, that's because Dimitri robbed the first national bank!"
Dimitri grabs the snake by the neck.
"Who said you could speak?! What happened to your gag?!"
Arthur and Aristotle reveal themselves, folding their arms in success. They speak in unison.
"Busted!"
But then they realize they're in a bar full of people who hate their guts. Only now that tens of men draw weapons on them do they realize how incredibly stupid what they just did was. The duo is left in dead silence, only broken by Arthur stating two simple words.
"Oh, crap."
Chaos erupts from within the four wooden walls of the bar as guns, spells, and knives fly everywhere. Dimitri leaps and flips out of the way with the grace of a ballerina onto the table behind him, knocking beer and cigarettes all over the place and sending shadowy chains out at Arthur and Aristotle to strangle them.
"You idiots! You ruined everything!"
The goat and the axolotl dive out of the way of the chains as they crash into the wall. Aristotle dives into a roll and under a table that's pelted with bullets from all over. He screams as he struggles to recant his invisibility spell. He finds himself getting tongue-tied in anxiety as the table is flipped over, revealing him. As he's approached from behind, Aristotle pulls out the Broom Brolley and pelts a lone outlaw right across the jaw with it. The bad guy is sent backward as bullets rain on him. Quickly, he activates the shield to deflect the bullets. Arthur shouts from over the counter.
"When in the world did we get a saloon around here?! Ah!"
Arthur is nearly beamed in the skull with a projectile whiskey bottle as it flies past his head and smashes into the wall. It's all-out pandemonium: two amateur mages, a moderately talented chimera, and a bunch of gun-toting, chain-smoking, Wild West dirtbags wielding enough lead to take down a zeppelin. Civilians are running around screaming all over the place, and the true heroes arise in truth when Arthur and Aristotle spend more time trying to get them to safety, while Dimitri is thoroughly invested in engaging in all-out war. The police arrive on the scene, fashionably late as usual, and the odds are evened as magic and lead rain down everywhere.
Dimitri tries to make his escape amid the confusion, but Arthur's been paying close attention to him and engages in pursuit, leaving Aristotle there to aid the cops. Dimitri flees on foot, haunting as fast as his chimera hooves will take him, as Arthur follows, hot on his trail. Desperate, he fires spells back at Arthur, but Arthur proves to be too fast as he leaps into a feral stance and starts hauling on all fours. Dimitri panics, ordering his tail with all the willpower he can. The snake apologizes on both of their behalves.
"I'm sssorry!"
The snake extends, snapping at Arthur and fighting for his own free will. One bite and the venom from that snake is a death sentence. Dimitri means it.
"Get away from me, you stupid goat!"
Arthur yells as he dodges a meteor blast from the chimera.
"Never! I won't let you get away with your crimes, you two-timing crook!"
Dimitri unleashes a shadow chain link toward Arthur, and it lashes him hard in the face. The goat tumbles to a full stop as Dimitri rounds a corner and leaps a tall fence in a feat of agility both he and Aristotle wish they were capable of. Speaking of Aristotle, the axolotl comes stumbling down the road, signaling to Arthur to let him catch his breath, and then approaches the goat as he leans over with his hands on his knees and speaks in a dry heave. Arthur pounds the sand in failure over his inability to catch the dirty conman.
"Dammit! I almost had him, too!"
Aristotle reaches over to Arthur to help him up, and Arthur takes his hand.
"All is not lost. Take a listen to this."
Aristotle reveals that he had been carrying a portable tape recorder the entire time, a vintage model by today's standards, but relevant at the time. Aristotle hits the play button, and Dimitri's conversation at the bar, from his proposal to the snake's confession, starts to play. He even recorded the chimera threatening his own tail. Arthur takes the device, shocked. He looks up at Aristotle.
"You recorded him?!"
Aristotle nods with a smug grin.
"Let's go turn this in to the authorities, and head back home."
So they do. Aristotle returns to the scene of the crime and presents the recording to the police as clear evidence. They confiscate the tape and thank the two brave men for a job well done. Returning home exhausted but with a sense of pride, Arthur flops his tired body onto the couch.
"We did it, Bubblegum. We're heroes."
Aristotle reminds him, sitting at the end of the couch. Arthur rises and sits beside him.
"They still have to catch Dimitri first, and even then, it's gonna take a lot to bring a guy like that down."
Arthur takes his hand and smiles up at him.
"And when that happens, we'll be there to help take him down."
Aristotle smiles down at Arthur. The two approach, wrapping each other in a ribbon of a long and passionate kiss. Aristotle runs his fingers through Arthur's soft, lavender hair as they part. Of course, this would all take time and preparation, and Dimitri wasn't the only foe out there, for wherever there was a villain, a charlatan, or a hooligan on the loose in Goatshire, they were there. Wherever a little old lady was being harassed by a thief, they were there. And wherever magic threatened to destroy their beautiful home and threatened the innocent, they were there. The goat and the axolotl were superheroes. Arthur returns to the modern day. All those memories are little more than brain fuzz.
They exist within his mind, but it's like the transmission is bad, the footage is fuzzy, as if the antenna is sending him a bad and unclear signal, robbing him of all emotional investment. Arthur wishes he could feel anything other than anger and sadness. The demon had succeeded after all in breeding a lack of empathy in Arthur. Vadrigar had made Arthur just like him: cold, angry, sad, wallowing. He doesn't want to feel this way, but with the burning of his soul and the gradual descent, little can be done to help, at least here. As Gabrielle finishes her remaining last-minute checks, Arthur treads past Fantoccio and waits by the front door, just staring at it. Fantoccio, in his little spot on the floor, tends to the fallen Barnaby, the weak and pathetic creature. Gently, he speaks to the owl.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this, you know. We were supposed to live happily. I'm able to see it now; we could have been good friends someday. I was looking forward to getting to know you more. I used to think you were scary, but after speaking to you, after fighting alongside you, after learning more about you, and watching you defend us with everything you got… I came to realize just how wonderful you are. And now… I'm scared I'm gonna lose you."
The tired and weak husk of Barnaby can't resist the urge to offer his two cents. He bites through the pain, his voice is hoarse and raspy, and he speaks barely above a whisper.
"Young man… don't fret… Dry your tears. My life… ended centuries ago… and… only now do I realize… Hoot!… just how… truly blessed I am… to have all of you… Here with me. Please… do me a favor… would you?"
Fantoccio stares down sadly at the tiny owl. He shrugs limply.
"Sure. Uh… what do you want me to do?"
Barnaby peers off to the side, toward the door. He can barely see, but he knows the shape. He knows it to be who he believes it to be.
"Do you see… that young man… by the door? Would you… Take me… to see him?"
Fantoccio nods, uncertain of his intent. He stands while trying to maintain an even level for the bird. He is as gentle as can be, handling Barnaby with the delicacy of a highly explosive bomb. He approaches Arthur. Arthur leans on the door with his arm, his head buried in it as if he's suffering a migraine. Barnaby once again requests Fantoccio.
"I can't speak… very loudly. Could you… gain his attention… for me?… Hoot!"
Fantoccio looks up at him. He's quite reluctant, especially after watching and beholding his aggression toward Aristotle. Fantoccio takes a deep breath and approaches the goat. He tugs on the bottom of Arthur's shirt, gaining his attention.
"Hm?"
Arthur says as he turns his head, pivoting to face the puppet and owl with tired eyes and raised brow.
"Barnaby has something he'd like to say to you. He doesn't have much of a voice left, so you'll need to lean in close."
Arthur does as the puppet says, but isn't quite sure why. He beholds the tiny owl, a condition he was directly responsible for. The tiny ghost owl speaks.
"Arthur… do not believe… what the demon told you… Do not lament… over the monstrous acts… he committed with… your body… Hoot!… I, too… know what it's like… to be a good man… on the inside… and a bad man… on the outside… Hoot!… Your daughter… told me wonderful things… and Aristotle… told her wonderful things… about you… I believe them… They're wonderful people… and I believe them… I am fading away… and even still… I've lived a long… wonderful afterlife… and you… have a wonderful life… ahead of you… So never lose hope… Do not lose hope… as I once did… Your future is yours… not his."
Arthur bites his lip as he digests the frail ghost's words. Barnaby finds himself lapsing into a coughing fit. He's falling apart, writhing in agony. Fantoccio panics.
"Barnaby?"
He wheezes and finally accepts that he must be silent. Gabrielle and Belle approach them. They have heavy coats draped over them. Gabrielle hands Arthur a heavy coat similar to the puffer coat he had in the illusion. He looks at Gabrielle and Belle. Gabrielle looks Arthur in the eyes and states firmly.
"Bundle up. We got a long, cold trip ahead of us."