Chapter Text
The sky flares pink as evening becomes night. Seliph has always wondered how the normally blue sky goes through so many dramatic tones, and why it seems to differ from day to day and place to place. Sometimes the color of fire, sometimes the color of the brightest peach, sometimes a gradual yellow into dark blue. The outline of the distant clouds is so clear, as if viewing it through a piece of thick, magnifying glass. Given enough time, everything becomes dark. Without enough light, the tree branches become crisp shadows against a blue-gray sky. Seliph watches the slow shift in a dreamy haze.
This is how Lyon finds him—lying in the orchard, half-dozing by a nearly burnt-out lantern.
“It’s quite late. I would warn you against catching a cold, but I’m unsure that Fabrications can fall ill.”
“Alear says that they cannot,” Seliph replies, turning his head to regard Lyon. The Emblem of Knowledge gives off a light blue glow, not quite enough to illuminate the ground but making him impossible to miss in the darkness.
“Regardless, do you plan to sleep?”
“Perhaps.” Seliph has not in a while, and has no need for it in a physical sense. He wishes to spend more time in the world discovering what Elyos offers. Resting cuts that time short.
“I hear it has been some time since your last.”
“I spent much of my time before awakening protected by my father’s dreams. My rest has been comforting. Now that I am awake, I should use this time wisely.”
That does not fully convince Lyon. He tilts his head to the side, frowning slightly. “Even Emblems require rest, Seliph. If you wish, I will accompany you.”
The offer grabs Seliph’s attention. Lyon remembers much more about their past life before coming to Elyos. What happened to the world they were summoned into? Takumi and Alm are frustratingly secretive about the topic. Only Lyon has opened up about it, even though Seliph feels discomfort at being unable to remember anything Lyon speaks of. His dreams may reveal more.
Or perhaps Lyon will shut him out as well. He has refused to answer some of Seliph’s questions. If only the other Emblems would speak to Seliph... he would feel less alone in his amnesia. There is no way to know unless he tries, though.
“Very well,” Seliph says, and does not get his hopes up.
Every time Alm retreats into his necklace to sleep, nightmares plague him. He stopped trying after the first three times. Do the other Emblems fare any better or worse? Seliph likely remembers too little to be haunted. Lyon smiles with a tight hold over his expression. Takumi dismantles himself with more devastation than any terrible memory could.
They haven’t changed. Maybe it’s better this way. Alm doesn’t think he could stand to watch Seliph’s grief—especially now in a physical form, tears springing to blue eyes—and Lyon’s steadfast heart keeps Alm’s from crumbling too. Takumi’s rage is its own familiar grounding place as well. What a terrible place for each of them to occupy. Alm knows that this can’t continue. But he can’t stop it, none of them can, not without something far worse taking its place. Their words hold the power to end so much. If silence is suffering, and silence is safety—
Then silence it must be.
Celica wants to know so badly, but Alm can’t risk it. She has no idea how catastrophic it could be. How could she? Alm doesn’t like the idea of blissful ignorance, but he finds himself jealous of how easily Celica asks. What happened, Alm? What happened to your Elyos? Who made you? Is Sombron still out there? Are you safe here?
Is he? Are they?
Alm refused Alear’s offer for a Fabrication body. He’ll be fine, he promised. It was just too much right now, trying to fit into a physical form while recovering. Leif had explained the reason behind protection as bizarre as a body, and for a brief moment Alm wondered what might happen if he was pulled apart by such warping forces. Maybe an endless darkness, like the one he was roused from.
Should he have never reached out in the first place? What if he had remained asleep? Would Seliph, Lyon, and Takumi have continued to slumber too, if he hadn’t been screaming for them as he fell?
Takumi wants his siblings. He misses them like none other but he is so torn from them. There is no “together in heart” for him, just an empty void where they once stood and it suffocates him all the same as being plunged in water.
“You look like you’re about to pass out. Which is weird, being an Emblem and all.”
“I’m fine,” Takumi tells Ike, and holds back the few extra words of I don’t need your worry. Corrin has chastised him for being a little too prickly, in her words. “Again, with the axe.”
Ike shrugs, and does exactly as he’s told. Urvan is raised, swings sideways, crashes into Takumi and sends him bouncing across the floor of the Somniel’s arena. He has yet to master keeping his balance against heavy strikes.
“Alright, that’s enough,” says Ike with a tone of finality. “This is ridiculous. You’re not learning anything from me hitting you repeatedly. I’m not doing this anymore.”
“Why would it matter how many times you hit me with anything? I’m an Emblem,” Takumi retorts as he gets back upright.
Ike lets his father’s axe disappear into nothingness. “Aside from the fact that this session has been nothing but you being thrown around, It’s a waste of time. I’m here to train, not to beat my friend’s brother senseless.”
”If I’m not good enough of a training partner for you, you may just say so,” Takumi retorts between gritted teeth.
“This isn’t training, Takumi. You’re just asking me to hit you. I’m not helping you hurt yourself out of guilt and a misplaced sense of punishment.”
“What would you know of that, or of what I’m feeling?”
Ike crosses his arms and puts on a stern face. A challenge.
“Try me.”
Takumi doesn’t. Instead he de-summons his bow and makes to leave the arena.
“Asking someone else to hit you won’t help you feel any better,” Ike warns him before he reaches the doors. “I doubt that anyone will agree to it, either. Whatever is going on, you need to talk it through with your fellow Emblems.”
“I don’t think I need to be lectured.”
The arena’s large double doors make no sound as they open or close. Takumi steps back into the light, and feels the shadows creep up his legs again.