Chapter Text
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Day Six
TEXT:
Hey mom,
I miss you. It’s weird not seeing you every day. It’s even weirder not knowing where you are. Or if you’re okay.
I’ve been keeping notes of everything I’ve investigated so far, every path I’ve walked down. But it feels wrong not keeping you in the loop so I thought I’d move my daily updates here.
Plus, I’m used to talking to you every day. I miss you, mom. I wish I knew where you were. I wish I knew if you were coming back.
Anyway, I had school today so there wasn’t a lot of time for investigating but I’m planning on going over to Fabian’s tonight to use his internet. Our power went out awhile back and I don’t know how to get it back on. I don’t miss it too much. Darkvision is enough to get around the apartment. But I do miss the heat.
It’s really cold, mom.
And I’m really worried about you.
“The Ball! Welcome to my abode. What brings you here?”
Riz shivers on the front stoop of Seacaster Manor and tries to beg Fabian with his eyes to welcome him inside. He hasn’t felt fully thawed out since his power was turned off on Sunday morning. School was a chance to thaw out for a few hours a day but it takes him all day just to melt the ice crystals in his veins. He never quite gets all the way to warm anymore.
“Hey, Fabian. My internet went out,” Riz says, carefully avoiding a Deception check. “Can I use yours to do my homework?” He tries to keep his words simple and unaffected. He doesn’t want his friends to worry about him and certainly doesn’t want them to pity him. If he keeps things cool and casual then he won’t arouse suspicion and things can stay normal.
Fabian opens his arms widely and steps back from the threshold. “Of course,” he says. “But I will make you spar with me in exchange.” He smiles and gestures for Riz to come inside. Riz tries not to look too eager to be stepping out of the cold but he’s sure his lips are tinged with blue.
His first step inside is like entering into a sauna. Thank god for bougie rich people with their comfortable climates. Even when his heat at home was on, it was not set anywhere near this high. Riz’s mom couldn’t afford to keep the apartment comfortable, instead, it was somewhere closer to survivable.
“Thanks, man.” He doesn’t really have the energy to spar today but he can’t tell his host no, not when Fabian is already doing him a favor. He contemplates lying and saying he left his weapons at home but Fabian would catch him in that lie in a second. Riz was far too paranoid to ever travel without at least one weapon in arm’s reach. “Let me get my work done really quick.”
He collapses onto a couch in the sitting room and pulls out his crystal. Before anything else, he hits Send on the email he drafted to his mom and watches the progress bar fill. He chews on the inside of his cheek nervously until his screen reads Sent.
He tastes blood.
“Are you hungry, The Ball?”
Desperately, he wants to say. “I’m okay,” he says, instead.
[Make a Deception check.]
“Hm.”
Fabian clears his throat. “You can just be honest with me and say you don’t like rich people food, you know. Kippers can’t be everyone’s thing, even if they are the greatest delicacy in Spyre.”
Riz lets himself laugh, thawing out in temperature and nerves. “I just don’t like rich people food, then,” he says, accepting the lie.
Fabian kicks back in a chair next to Riz and pulls out his own crystal. “Let me know when you’re ready to fight, then. Don’t nerd out with that homework for too long.”
Riz nods distractedly. He won’t spend too long on homework. He has more important work to be done, after all. He has to find his mom.
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Day Seven
TEXT:
Hey, mom.
I slept over at Fabian’s last night. It was nice having somewhere warm to sleep but it just made the apartment feel colder when I got home.
I think if I play my cards right, I can try to get a few nights a week of sleepovers without making anyone realize anything is wrong. Between Fabian’s place, the Thistlespring’s, and Mordred Manor, I can get a decent amount of warm nights before people start asking why I keep sleeping over in any particular place.
Maybe I shouldn’t be planning as if this is going to be a long-term thing. I think that’s what you’d want from me, though. You’re always saying I need to take better care of myself so I’m trying to make plans to keep myself safe while you’re gone. I’m trying to, mom. But is it bad to plan that far ahead? Does it mean I’m giving up on the idea that you’ll be home soon?
It’s just that… It’s just that, if you were coming home of your own accord, you would’ve already been back. You’ve never left me alone this long before.
But you know me, I’m a planner. So I’m going to make plans for the worst case scenario. I’m going to make sure that I’ll be okay even if you’re not back this week. Or even this month.
I don’t like to think much further than that.
It’s Friday, today. We have a test in Rogue classes, or maybe race is a better word for it. First person to find the Golden Lockpicks hidden somewhere in the school wins them. Wish me luck, mom.
I love you. I miss you.
Riz ducks into his locker and shuts the door. He heard the footsteps of another rogue coming around the corner and doesn’t want to give them any clues about the progress he’s made so far on the puzzle. The rogue class is cutthroat and, although Aguefort teaches him to work within a group in regards to his party, he certainly doesn’t have to follow that philosophy to help other rogues get ahead.
He takes three quiet breaths as he waits for the footsteps to pass him.
He really wants those Golden Lockpicks. Not to use, necessarily. He has a pair of “lockpicks” he already loves attached to the ends of his fingers and anything more high-tech would probably throw off his Sleight of Hand. He just wants them for the sense of accomplishment and maybe the bragging rights, too.
He tries to pop the locker’s latch from the inside but it stays clicked shut.
“Hm.”
He tries again but the latch remains unmoved. He tries again and again until his claw bends back and he hisses in pain.
Shit.
Riz knows he has two options here. He can be responsible and wait for this class period to let out. Once students pour from their classrooms, someone is sure to pass by his locker. It would be easy to get their attention and ask to be let out.
Or, while trapped in an encased metal box, he can take his gun and shoot out the latch.
Riz prides himself on his prudence, he does. But he is, unfortunately, as impatient as he is intelligent.
He shoots the lock.
“Riz, oh my god!” Fig greets as he walks into the cafeteria, voice at a strange pitch. Her expression is pinched in concern. Riz frowns. What did he do? What did he let slip?
“What’s up?” Riz replies but his own voice sounds off, too. He clears his throat. “What’s going on?”
“Good question,” Kristen says through a mouthful of chicken-fried something. “‘Sup with the blood?” She gestures to the side of her face and inclines her chin in his direction.
Riz touches his jawline and his fingers come back sticky and dark red. “Oh. Huh.” He follows the trail of blood up his face and to its source, his left ear. The dried blood itches, now that his attention was brought to it, and he resists the urge to stick his claw inside his ear canal and scratch.
“‘Huh?’ Your eardrum exploded and all you have to say is ‘huh?’” Fabian asks and Riz understands why their voices all sound a little off, now.
“I mean, oops? Don’t shoot guns in enclosed spaces, kids? I don’t know what you want me to say.” Riz slides into his seat at their lunch table and nods his thanks at Gorgug who grabbed him a lunch tray. He wants to eat ravenously but tries to pace himself, taking medium-sized bites of his mystery meat. This will be the only food he has today that won’t be taken from a dumpster.
“Who wants to go to Basrar’s tonight?” Fig asks, passing a hand over Riz’s ear. She sends glittering magic through her palm. He tastes cinnamon candy and cloves as she restores his hearing.
“Thanks,” he whispers, and Fig nods with a warm smile on her face.
“What else would we do on a Friday night?” Fabian asks.
Riz cringes. He was worried about this. His mom always gave him three silver pieces on Fridays, two for a milkshake and one for a tip. This Friday, he doesn’t have three silver pieces.
“I can’t make it.”
[Roll another Deception check.]
“You have to come, The Ball. You can’t possibly have something better to do.”
Riz frowns and lets the hurt show on his face. “Rude.”
“What, are you only two weeks ahead on your homework instead of three? Take a night off.”
Gorgug pats him on the back. “It’s okay, Riz. Maybe next week.”
“Definitely next week,” Riz says, hoping it’s not a lie. He’ll solve the mystery by next week. He will. He’ll find his mom and get her back and everything will be okay.
Until then, though, he resigns himself to going home to a dark, cold apartment with an empty fridge. He sighs but tries to hide it in a yawn. It’s going to be another long night.
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Day Fourteen
TEXT:
Hey, mom.
It’s Friday, again. Sorry I haven’t written for a little while. I’ve been doing a lot of research lately on what could’ve happened to you. I investigated the police department for most of the week. I still don’t trust them very much but I don’t think they had anything to do with your disappearance.
I haven’t reported you missing. I don’t know if it would help. You knew when it was important to keep something under wraps and something about this situation tells me I need to keep it close to my chest.
I haven’t even told my friends yet. I don’t want them to worry about me. Some days, I wish I had their help, though.
Don’t get mad at me, mom, but I haven’t been eating very much lately. I ran out of money already and school lunches only go so far. I don’t have the energy to go scrounging for what I can find for free, anymore.
I’m just so tired, mom. Everything feels three times as hard as usual. Walking feels like pushing through molasses. I can hardly pay attention in class. I’m really struggling.
I’m sorry, I shouldn’t complain. I’m going to find you, mom, don’t worry. I’ll push through. Gukgaks work hard and Gukgaks make do. I’ll work so hard. I’ll get you back.
I love you.
Riz is wearing every article of clothing he could fit under his winter coat but he still finds himself shivering. He could barely look at himself in the mirror as he left the apartment, feeling ashamed of his disheveled appearance, but he knows he needs to stay warm during his outing today. He and mirrors haven’t been very friendly since last year, anyway. He’s used to averting his eyes as he passes reflective surfaces.
Ice crusts the grass in the graveyard and, as light as his footsteps are, it still shatters under his feet. He hears the crackle follow him like a ghost and finds himself looking over his shoulder a few times to make sure he isn’t, in fact, being tailed.
Riz pulls out a small blanket and settles it next to his dad’s grave.
“Hi, dad.” He bites his tongue and tries to decide how much he’s going to admit. If he can’t tell his dad, who can he tell? Still, he feels something obstructing his throat when he tries to open his mouth and admit that his mom is gone. “It’s, uh, it’s been awhile.”
He takes a deep breath in and out. The icy air burns his nose. He rubs at the tip of it with the back of his hand but his fingers are already feeling numb and his hand is clumsy.
“School’s going alright. I’m doing alright. Mom’s—”
Riz swallows hard.
“Mom’s doing alright, too.”
He… he doesn’t know why he said that.
[I’m going to need another Deception check.]
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Day Nineteen
TEXT:
Hey, mom.
I’ll write more soon.
I’m too tired right now. I’m sorry.
Riz forgot his thermos. He doesn’t have hot water at home anyway, but he can usually sneak into the teacher’s lounge and use their hot water dispenser to fill it if he gets to school early enough. Today, he won’t be able to.
He’s already so cold. He feels like his body is shutting down.
Riz pops open his briefcase and shoves his notebooks around, trying to find his Beast Slaying textbook. He’s glad his first class of the day is a lecture so he doesn’t have to get out of his chair for an hour. He doesn’t think he has the energy to stand, let alone practice combat.
He rides on Fabian’s shoulders to class, head drooping. Gorgug stands behind him and keeps his back upright for the ride and Riz tries his best to tell him thank you. He’s not sure if the words come out.
Miss Fleetfoot speaks in her usual monotone and Riz tries his best to focus. Each word lulls him closer to sleep and, eventually, he gives into the urge, laying his head down on his desk.
Fabian elbows him but Riz doesn’t have the energy to respond. He takes slow, deep breaths, and his surroundings start to fade from his awareness.
In a matter of minutes, he leaves the waking world behind and knows nothing but his dreams.
Riz is on a picnic blanket. He can see five silhouettes laughing and splashing in the river nearby. They’re backlit from the sun but if he squints he can make out the shapes of his friends.
He wonders why they haven’t noticed he’s not in the water with them. Riz tries to push himself to his feet but his body is heavy and leaden. With straining effort, he manages to plant one foot on the ground, then the other. The steps are slow, no matter how much he pushes.
He walks towards the shore but his friends dive under the water and swim further from him. He can’t catch up. He tries to catch up. He can’t catch up. He tries—
He falls to the ground, limp.
Riz is left alone.
“—ead or—no way of—”
“Don’t—careful, oka—”
“—ot like—why?”
Riz hears voices and soft crying. He should open his eyes and investigate what’s going on around him.
Instead, he drifts off again.
Riz is at an ornately decorated restaurant. He’s sitting in a tall chair at a tall table with a beautiful place setting. He’s the only goblin in the room. There’s a live musician playing slow, romantic violin music.
He’s rarely felt more uncomfortable in his life.
His friend—whose face is morphing from half-orc to elf to human to tiefling to half-elf—looks at him and asks: “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he says. “I’m fine.”
“You look sort of uncomfortable,” they reply.
“I’m all good,” he lies.
The crying hasn’t stopped.
He feels magic in the air like electricity. It zaps his skin painfully but he doesn’t so much as flinch. He’s so tired.
“—go to a—don’t know wh—”
“He’s not—n’t be abl—”
“—Riz.”
He recognizes his name. He wants to open his eyes and respond to the person who said it.
He finds that he can’t.
Riz is in a dark void. His footsteps echo on a porcelain floor.
He walks for hours.
The darkness never abates.
“Riz!”
Riz’s eyes flutter open slowly. He opens his mouth to reply but finds that it’s too dry to make a sound.
“Riz, you’re awake,” Fig’s voice wavers unsteadily. Riz looks to her and sees silent tears pour down her face.
Riz clears his throat with a low growl. “Hey,” he finally gets out.
“‘Hey?’” Fabian says bitterly. “Fuck, The Ball.”
The crying starts up again and Riz sees the source this time. Kristen’s hand is gripping her Staff of Doubt like she’d fall apart without its support. She gasps her breaths in between sobs. “We thought you were dead.”
Riz squints his eyes and shoves himself up from his position, curled up on his side on a bed he doesn’t recognize. “Why would I be dead?”
“You were freezing cold, unresponsive and we couldn’t find a heartbeat.” Fabian says, voice too loud. “I don’t know, The Ball, why would we possibly think you were dead?”
Riz clears his throat again. “What?”
“Riz, you’ve been asleep for a week and a half.” Adaine says.
“Oh.” Riz blinks slowly, trying to will his brain to catch up with the conversation. He wants to wipe away the concerned looks on his friends’ faces. “I wasn’t asleep then,” he tries to explain. “I was hibernating.” The concern does let up a fraction, but it’s replaced with confusion. “If a goblin gets too cold for too long, they go into hibernation to conserve energy.”
“How did none of us know that?” Kristen asks through tears.
Gorgug speaks up. “Not a lot of accurate goblin information in our health textbooks, I’d guess.” Riz nods. “I’m so sorry, man. We should’ve known.”
Riz feels guilt pour into his veins and burn him. “It’s not your fault. I never told you because, uh, it never should’ve come up. A city goblin doesn’t really have a good reason to go into hibernation.”
Fabian’s eye narrows. “Then why did you?”
Riz swallows.
[Are you going to roll a Deception check?
…not yet.]
“Does it have something to do with why your mom isn’t home and your apartment is freezing?” Adaine speaks slowly and softly, like she’s approaching a scared animal.
Riz bites his tongue. He can’t lie his way out of this one. Not anymore. He takes a deep breath and lets his shoulders drop down his back. Adaine steps closer to him and sits down on the mattress by his side. She puts her arm around him and Riz leans into her warmth.
“Yeah. It does.”