Chapter Text
Faint coughing reached the young teenager's ears as she pushed her way into the room. It was dark and her feet creaked the damp floor, but, straining her eyes, she could just make out the figure of her mother stretched over a wooden bed.
The girl took a deep breath and straightened up, pushing a few loose strands of blonde hair behind her ear. She had to keep it together. Swallowing hard, she headed across the room.
"Mom?" she breathed when she stopped beside the bed.
The woman's colorless face turned to her and gave a weak smile. "Hey, honey," she croaked, heaving herself upward until she was sitting.
The daughter took her mother's hand in hers, feeling the bony frame tremble in her grasp. She made another attempt to swallow back her emotions, but it was harder than the others made it seem. She hated that she was the most emotional Baddie in the Bend; even the younger Baddies were more monotone than her. Why should she always have to seem so careless and hard? It wasn't her. Because she knew she did care, and she couldn't be as hard as the Bend wanted her to be. Just gazing down at her sick mother made her throat tighten and she desperately held back tears. She knew her mother's time was running out.
The woman's eyes were gleaming in spite of her weak state. "How are you doing?" she whispered.
Unable to meet her gaze, the girl found her eyes trailing to the ground. Her mother understood her—her thoughts and emotions—, but she would be gone soon, and then she'd have no one left. "I... I don't know," she admitted, sinking onto the bed beside her mother. She drew her hair behind her ear again; those few strands always seemed to fall loose from her messy ponytail. "I just still don't understand," she went on, pressing her hands together nervously. "Why things are the way they are, why Daddy does what he does... But no one else seems to care or even know. I just don't understand how I'm so... alone."
Her mother's eyes glittered sympathetically. "I know how unhappy you are here," she murmured. "But you know I'm not going to be around much longer. And I want you to be happy when I'm gone."
A tear ran down the girl's cheek and she drew in a shaky breath. "I-I'll try," she stated. "I'll be happy for you. I promise!"
The woman breathed a soft laugh. "No, honey," she said. "I want you to be truly happy. That's why I want you to leave."
A jolt of surprise hit the daughter and she turned to her mother in alarm. "Leave?" she echoed. "How can I leave? Daddy will—"
"Your father doesn't have to know," her mother interrupted. "There is a way... a way to escape and make your own future. A secret tunnel that not even your father knows about."
The girl's eyes widened. "A secret tunnel?" she repeated. "Where is it?"
The mother's eyes deepened with memories. "Look to where you find hope," she told her, tapping her finger to her daughter's nose, "where the sun shines. And you'll find it."
"I... I don't understand," the girl stuttered, brows crinkling.
"Maybe this will help."
The girl watched as her mother pulled a sack from underneath the blankets and reached inside, drawing out a round, glittering purple gem. She held it out toward her daughter. "Something your father gave to me when we were married," she explained. "Now I'm giving it to you."
"What—what is it?" the girl asked, staring at the gem with round eyes.
"A gem of Overlord power," the mother went on. "It can give you strength, or visions of the future, or magical powers..."
The girl reached out and grabbed it, and immediately her hands burned like fire and she threw it back onto the bed with a squeak of alarm. Her mother smiled softly and picked it up again. "You're only not used to the power inside," she breathed. "You're more human than you are overlord. Your father gave it to me so I could be as powerful as him, but I never saw the need to use it."
Breathing shakily, the daughter grasped the gem again, feeling all sorts of tingles sweep down her spine. Her hands started to burn again but she closed her eyes, forcing herself to push through it until the flames faded back into cold stone.
"Take it," the woman instructed weakly. "But whatever you do, don't give to your—" Her voice broke off as she went into a sudden bout of coughing.
The girl gasped and took her mother's hand again. "Mom!" she exclaimed. "Are you okay?"
The woman drew in a raspy breath and blinked wearily at her daughter. "I'll be fine, sweetie," she croaked. "But you have to go. Now. Before somebody sees you."
The girl felt her eyes swell with tears. "B-but I can't leave you, Mom." Her voice wavered.
"You must," her mother insisted, touching her hand to her daughter's cheek. "Go make the future you've always wanted."
Tears streaming down her cheeks, the girl rose to her feet and gazed into her mother's eyes, seeing the life in them begin to fade. She choked back a sob, taking a step back. It was what her mother wanted. The last thing she wanted for her daughter before she died. And the girl couldn't disappoint her.
Nodding determinedly, she shared one last, long gaze with her mother before slipping the gem into her satchel and racing out of the room.
* * *
The girl grunted as she heaved the wood away, revealing a wide, dark hole. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tossed the satchel, gem inside, into the hole, struggling to steady her nerves. She glanced around at the shadowed Bend behind her, knowing that if anyone caught her, she'd be toast.
Turning back, she squinted as she gazed into the hole, making out a long tunnel inside it. The passage, she thought with another shaky breath. Her throat still felt tight at the thought of leaving her mother, knowing she'd never see her again, but it was what she had to do. And she was determined to make it work.
Footsteps suddenly sounded from behind her.
Gasping softly, the girl whipped around, eyes round as she scanned her surroundings. A figure appeared in the fog and she slowly inched backward, feeling around until she found the hole, either to hide it or to make a quick escape—she wasn't exactly sure yet.
As the person slipped into the faint light, she saw a young boy and she tipped her head. A moment later she could make out his messy brown hair, his huge glasses, then his glittering blue eyes.
A swamp of relief hit the girl as she recognized him. "Oh, Phil," she breathed. "I thought you might've been someone else."
The boy stopped a distance in front of her, his gaze darkened. "What are you doing?" he questioned, glancing over her shoulder at the open passageway.
The girl followed his gaze, shuffling her feet. "You know I can't stay here, Phil," she murmured. "I just can't. I have to go."
Phil's eyes rounded, sorrow flooding his gaze. "You're... You're leaving?" he whispered.
"I have to," she repeated, glancing at him again. Guilt swarmed in her chest as she saw how heartbroken he looked. "Come with me," she begged, realizing she'd rather have her friend with her. "You can escape, too."
The boy's eyes fell to the ground. "I can't leave my sister," he said quietly. "She's too young to fend for herself in a place like this. And I don't want to ruin your chances of getting away by creating a bigger group."
The girl felt the tears come back to her eyes. "Phil..."
Her voice trailed off and both their gazes snapped toward the town as a few lights turned on. Taking a deep breath, Phil turned back to her. "You have to go," he told her. He swallowed hard, obviously trying to keep himself together. "At least one of us will get what we wanted."
The girl began to tremble. "I-I'll come back for you," she promised. "As soon as I can. I won't leave you here forever, I promise."
The boy's eyes brightened slightly. "You will?"
"Of course I will," she murmured. Clatters sounded from the town and she took another step back, staring back at Phil solemnly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'll see you again one day." Then she turned and dived into the darkness.
Phil covered up the hole when she was gone, throat tightening. His chest heavied with grief, but he tried to push it away. She'll come back, he reminded himself. She'll come back for us. For me.
And he waited.
And waited.
And waited.
But as the years dragged on, he came to accept the thought that she had forgotten about him, and she was never coming back.