Chapter Text
-”At least it seems the melusines are kinda far today, we will have time.”
Clorinde and Wriothesley had arrived at the surroundings of the Fountain of Lucine, the place that was often their target. Their mission, sent by their foster parents to help with the orphanage's expenses, was to steal the fountain's coins.
And they worked too good together as a team.
It was the morning of a hot summer day, there was a trial happening at the Opera House and because of that, more people than normal were hanging around the place. They knew those people were quick to call the gardes, but Clorinde insisted on coming during this time to catch a glimpse of the Archon and the Iudex, as the children had never seen their rulers yet.
They didn't need to say a word to each other: Wriothesley jumped in, scaring the people around while Clorinde remained alert. He tried to stay submerged for as long as he could to remain invisible, while Clorinde did whatever distraction tactic.
The melusine was coming from far down the road, with her whistle making noise. When she was close enough, Clorinde raised her arms shouting “Catch me if you can” and began running in circles around the fountain, changing her direction from clockwise to counterclockwise to taunt the melusine. It would give Wriothesley more time.
Clorinde wasn't much taller than the melusine, but she was significantly faster. She could do her job of distracting them for as long as she could just fine.
A second melusine appeared down the road and Clorinde jumped into the fountain too, just to tap on Wriothesley's back and keep running: it was their sign to leave the place.
The children ran as fast as they could into the woods. They knew where to turn, where to hide, and covered some significant distance.
They sat on stones, exhausted. Wriothesley began to empty his pockets from all the coins he caught, they had to know how much they got today.
-"30k is fine, I guess?”
-”Enough for milk.”
It was not their first rodeo, but it was their first during a busy day at that place. Now they would wait around a month until the fountain would “fill up” again with coins from visitors.
-”Do you think we're children from the wish of a coin thrown into the fountain?” - Wriothesley lied down on the stone, still tired.
-”Do you really think our parents wanted us?” - Clorinde was alert about their surroundings, looking out for possible monsters.
-”Sometimes I think mine are dead, or they got sick, or someone was after them.”
-”Like if they didn't want to leave you at that place?”
-”Yes.” - The boy had a glimmer of hope that fate struck his family and they had no option but to leave him there. Even though he was very aware of not hurting Clorinde, his words stung her.
It wasn't the case for the girl.
She stood up to climb the nearby bulle fruit tree and got two of them.
-”Thanks.” - Wriothesley sat up to finish what was often their afternoon snack.
-”So how long will we stay here?”
-”One hour is fine, then we just take care not to be caught.”
The children talked about anything and nothing at the same time. The familiarity of living at the same place for years, the trust and companionship. They weren't put together to work just because the parents randomly chose, but because they actually liked each other and were usually glued to the hip.
The first person to see the new toy, the first person to hear the new story, the first person to be invited to a new place, the first person to be chosen to play tag, the first person to be chosen in group projects and finish homework together.
Clorinde checked her pocket watch and they made their way back to the roads leading to the Opera House. They stayed behind bushes and on the lookout to see whatever commotion.
They could see the blue entourage coming, surrounded by civilians trying to approach, bowing, waving; and surrounded by several gardes in blue uniforms preventing the people from getting too close to Furina and Neuvillette.
Furina at the front waving back at the people and responding to their greetings, though she didn't look happy. Neuvillette at most nodded back at the commoners, looking tired in his serious face.
They looked impressive and imposing, but that also humanized them in front of the children, as if they expected more. They looked like the immortal and powerful beings that they were, but they also looked “too human”, leading to a bit of disappointment for the duo's childish expectations.
-”Well, she's very pretty.”
-”He looks like an otter.”
-”Wriothesley!”
-”What?”
-"It's a crime to disrespect them!”
-”What are they going to do? Arrest me? And don't you think stealing from the fountain is a worse crime than calling the Iudex an otter?”
-"Lower your voice, you don't need to repeat that.”
-”Repeat what? That Neuvillette looks like an otter?”
The girl exhaled loudly through her nose. She turned her attention back to the people who were now with their backs turned to them, on their way to the aquabus.
-”Why did you ask me about being children wished on the fountain? Do you really believe that?” - Clorinde's voice had that tone girls use when they wanna call a boy stupid.
-”I do.”
-”Hffpp.”
-”Wanna try? Two coins will not make a difference in this pouch.”
It sounded extremely silly to throw coins they had just stolen back into the fountain, but it wouldn't hurt. Many of the citizens at that place had left already, and the melusines who tried to catch them followed the rulers.
They sat on the fountain's marble, Wriothesley passed a coin to Clorinde:
-”What will you ask for?”
-”A vision.”
-”Thought you were going to ask to be adopted, or become rich so we don't have to steal anymore.”
-”Those things are possible, they are fixable, but a vision is a miracle. You can have a family and be extremely rich, but still have no vision.” - The girl was wiser beyond her years.
-”Now that you think about it…”
Wriothesley changed his wish and decided he was going to ask for a vision too.
They closed their eyes to mentalize it, counted 3, 2,1 and there their coins went, back to resting at the bottom of the fountain but now side by side.
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Summer had ended and the calendar marked the 20th of September.
The cake was made of bulle fruit by the children of the orphanage. It was breaking on the sides, uneven, maybe too hard, but there was much care in there.
Eight candles were sunk in it.
“Happy birthday to you Clorinde”, the children sang in unison.
They heard rumors, with their ears glued to their parent's door, that she was about to be adopted. They planned to celebrate her birthday like it was her last there.
But “they” is too high of a number.
It was Wriothesley who gave the idea to the other children, persuading them that if there was a birthday then there was cake, and they all listened to his commands like stealing candles from the cupboard and following his directions on how to bake, something the 10 year old himself didn't know how to do but every house has a recipe book. The “gang” leader in that small prison, his first and not his last.
Little did he know… it was this expansive rebellious spirit that knew exactly where the lines not to be crossed were, while taking care of others in his surroundings would keep him alive.
The children enjoyed their soggy cake under their “parent's” bitter eyes, Wriothesley wondering if he was to face some sort of punishment for it.
-“They were saying it was your idea Wriothesley” - Clorinde took the last piece of her cake.
-”Maybe?” - The boy was nonchalant.
-”If it was you, thank you.” - She left a sticky kiss on his cheek
-”So what do you want to do now? It's your day, you decide.”
-”While you were here in the kitchen did you catch the knife I told you?” - She whispered.
The boy moved his overshirt to the side to reveal the handle of a knife being held by the elastic of his pants.
-”Everyone is going outside so go there as well, I will go to my room to fetch him , wait for me there.”
Clorinde went up the stairs jumping two steps at a time towards her room, more specifically to the insides of her pillow where a Subdetection Unit was hidden, and went down to the patio at a similar speed.
She placed the metal object on the hardened ground, Wriothesley already there sitting on his legs. He grabbed the knife and tried to use it to break the insides of the mechanical creature.
-”No! Not like that! Give me this.” - Clorinde grabbed the knife off his hands and began to hit the pointy end on the beetle's “belly” with some incredible strength and dexterity, until they finally heard the satisfactory crack.
She divided the thing in two and passed the other half to Wriothesley, both of them now examining the insides of the beetle, mesmerized by its pieces and childish curiosity on how it worked.
That was the goal, to break it in half to examine it.
-”How did you even break that?”
-"There's the right way of holding a knife you know?”
-”Yes you told me the story.” - Wriothesley immediately backed up from where the conversation was going. He knew he was around the sensitive topic of every child there: their birth parents.
Clorinde's earliest and only memory of her bio parents was at three years old, with them telling her how to hold a knife “in the right way to kill”. And as tradition goes in an orphanage, those who remember their parents will at some point share the memory with the others.
Her second earliest memory was being left at that place.
Her third earliest memory was being welcomed by the warmest eyes in the house, despite their also sad expression and the unbelievable cold color.
-"Don't cry, you will not be alone here.” - His words during that day echoed in her mind. Wriothesley did keep his promise of not making her feel alone there during those years.
Clorinde was the “gang leader's” first experience in having someone under his wing. Despite also being too young, it was the first time he was aware of someone younger, smaller and more scared than him, who needed some kind of help and reassurance she'd be okay. His empathy chip activated the day she arrived there, and didn't rest until they were playing knights with their toys and the girl seemed relaxed enough to sleep.
He didn't show, but he was extremely bothered about the rumors she was about to be adopted, a completely new type of emotion he didn't know how to deal with. Though he should be used by now to his siblings leaving or even disappearing without any warning sometimes.
They were too focused on their Subdetection Unit surgery to notice, but since Clorinde began trying to break the object, they were being observed by their foster parents and a woman dressed in all black, the three adults under the frame of the door that gave way to the backyard of the orphanage.
The woman looked at the couple and nodded, then went back inside the house, the couple following her.
______________
The party mood had died hours ago and the children were all sleeping. Maybe it was the agitation of the day, or the excessive intake of sugar that made Wriothesley wake up in the middle of the night and make his way to the kitchen in search of water.
On the way there, Clorinde was in the living room putting more logs into the fireplace to not let the embers die, like someone who planned to spend some time in there.
-”Why are you here Clorinde?”
-"Can't sleep.” - She didn't even turn to him and kept on with her task.
-”And why is that?”
She didn't answer.
-”I will fetch some water, do you want some?”
-”Yes please.”
When the boy went back to the living room she was sitting on the ground with her back on the couch. Expressionless, mindlessly looking at the fire.
They finished their water, Wriothesley now also sitting by her side.
-"What's going on?” - He knew her for enough time to know there was something wrong.
-”Did you hear the rumors?”
-”Yes I did, and that's why I wanted all of us to celebrate your birthday. But it seems it didn't work? You look too sad.”
-”Of course I liked the celebrations Wriothesley! But I'm sad about leaving.”
-"Isn't it what all of us want here? To be adopted? Why do you want to stay at this place?”
-”What if I miss here? What if I don't like the new place?”
-”No way the new place can be worse than here.” - They had enough bruises to prove this claim.
-”What if I miss you?”
It was the boy's time to stay silent. This was not something that could be easily fixed. There was a chance of never seeing each other again.
It was what was bothering Wriothesley, he was hoping she wouldn't go there but of course she knew that would affect him too. He couldn't even be happy for her adoption. The pain of losing a sibling over and over didn't create a tougher skin on him.
And for Clorinde, it was the second time in her life she was being separated from people she cared about.
-"I will miss you, Clorinde. But I'm also happy for you.” - He grabbed her hand and looked at her with a smile, causing a weak smile on her face too.
-”If I have the chance, I can come and visit.”
-"I'm sure you will, you can run and hide better than the older kids.”
-”Will you remember me?”
-”Of course, seagull head! How can I forget it.” - The boy playfully pulled on her strand of baby blue hair causing her to giggle and forget her worries for a second.
-”I will not forget you, old man.” - The girl messed with his tuffs of gray and black.
-”No matter how long we stay apart, I will always find you, don't worry about that.”
-”Oh! This reminds me of something! Stay here.” - Clorinde stood up and ran to the playroom, which was also the arts and crafts room. She came back with a ball of red yarn and scissors, sat where she previously was and cut a line as long as the span of her opened arms.
-”What are you doing, Clorinde?”
-”I read this in a book. Give me your left hand.”
-”Okay but what is it about?”
-”This is the red string of fate. It must be wrapped around the pinky finger of our left hands, it is to ensure we meet again. We follow the string to go back to each other. It may stretch and entangle, but it never breaks. Yours is done! But I can’t do it around mine with only one hand, it has to be you.” - The girl offered her hand to him, and Wriothesley did the knot as told.
-”Done!” - The boy spoke as if he had carved a renaissance statue. They stayed silent for a while, thinking if putting that much faith in a string ritual would be enough.
-"I'm afraid of being alone.” - Clorinde broke the silence.
-”You can take care of yourself, I'm sure of it.”
-”I mean what if I have no one to play with?”
-”Then we better enjoy the time you still have here.”
-”What do you mean?”
-”How about we go to the beach tomorrow?”
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My visual arts entry for Day 4 of Wriorinde Week (heartache/the one that got away) was "The red strings of faith":