Chapter Text
Sciel tugs at Lune’s hand as they gaze at the portal before them. Never has she felt this powerless, not even the day of her husband’s death compares to this moment in time. All they could do is witness the scene unfold before them, the clashing sounds of swords striking and the stench of burnt flames plaguing their senses. The phenomenon lasts minutes, Sciel’s gut dropping once their world envelops in silence.
It’s not long until the portal whooshes before them, and a lone Maelle stumbles out, collapsing onto her knees in tears. She steps forward while Lune hovers a few feet behind her. “Maelle?” Sciel asks cautiously.
Only sobs follow. Streaks of dirt and dried blood are caked onto the teenager’s cheeks as fresh saline tears pour over them. Sciel kneels to Maelle’s level, resting her palm on the girl’s shoulder soothingly.
“V-verso,” Maelle stammers as she whips her head around to stare at the ever fading portal. “I-I had no choice. He was going to erase the canvas…I-”
Maelle’s emotions flood with her cries. Sciel shifts her body around, lowering herself to wrap her arms around the sixteen year old from behind in a grounding embrace. A burst of energy fizzles out, the nearby portal closing into nothingness.
They’re all alone in an empty, barren Lumière. With Renoir vanquished, all of his hostile Nevrons have successfully gommaged. Without Verso, that leaves five living souls remaining on the island. She locks eyes with Lune, the raven haired woman giving her a knowing look. They can’t stay here. These ruins are immensely unstable.
Sciel caresses Maelle’s luscious white locks of hair. “We cannot stay here, ma chérie. We should hold up somewhere safe, preferably with a roof over our heads.”
Maelle opens her mouth to protest, but only croaking sobs follow. She hangs her head low and buries her face in her lap. Sciel slowly rises and pats Maelle gently on her upper back. “Come along, Maelle.”
She extends her arm for the girl to take, but Maelle simply stays frozen in place, sobbing into her skirt. Lune steps a few paces, intending to help the young Paintress. Merde . Sciel realizes. Maelle is a Paintress…but she’s still Maelle.
“Maelle,” Lune takes a knee. She tucks a few loose white hair strands behind her ear. “Hey…it’s alright. Come here.”
Maelle lifts her head up, hurt eyes gazing into Lune’s. She barrels into her with a crushing hug. Gently wrapping her arm around Maelle’s back, Lune helps her to her feet. Sciel once again offers Maelle her hand. The young teen takes a sniffling breath before grasping Sciel’s palm. Meanwhile, Lune walks opposite of her, closely guiding Maelle back to where Monoco is standing. The four expeditioners head back towards the gardens and through a few grapple hooks, returning back to the docks to regroup with Esquie.
They find a shop tall enough to fit the largest, cuddliest member of the Expedition and take shelter for the night. A private apartment is located on the second floor, consisting of a single bedroom, bath, kitchenette and sitting area. Almost immediately, Maelle finds the bedroom. She plops herself down onto the mattress, climbing into the sheets and covers, sniffling quietly as she falls asleep. While Lune temporarily rejoins Monoco and Esquie downstairs, Sciel finds a seat to remain close by in case Maelle needs her.
Sciel recalls the lives of her students, children she loved with all her heart. Children who are now gone, their gommage turning them to petals blown about in the air. She’s known her husband since they were children themselves. They were twelve and ten the day they had their first extensional discussion on the ethics of having children in a doomed world. An age where such conversations shouldn’t take place. They were well beyond their years, with an attuned knowledge of the difference between a want versus an ethical sacrifice.
She and Pierre were married young to make the most of the time they had together. The pregnancy had been a complete and total accident, a fine excuse to give into a want had the child seen the light of day. Sciel fought back tears once the cramping began, the bleeding following soon after. She couldn’t be seen weeping over a blessing, saddened that a child would never lose its mother by the age of seventeen. Sciel knew she shouldn’t have had that child if it lived, but damn did she want it.
They would be around Maelle’s age, Sciel notes. Perhaps that’s why she’s drawn to the girl? She’s not her mother, but some type of force pulls at her heartstrings to care for this child and protect her from harm. Her nerves are on fire the moment Maelle begins to whimper in sleep, dragging Sciel off her feet to lay next to the young teen on the left side of the bed.
Maelle starts to twitch and thrash in her sleep. Sciel brushes her hand through the girl’s hair, her thumb gently grazing over brow. “Shh, ma douce fille . I’m here.”
Her cries only last about half a minute before Sciel feels the girl’s muscles relax, Maelle reverting to a calm, peaceful slumber. She initially stays with her to ensure she remains asleep, but Sciel’s exhaustion ends up taking over. She’s not asleep for long, finding herself waking once Lune claims the right side of the bed.
“Hey,” she whispers as Maelle sleeps soundly between them.
Lune reaches over to caress Sciel’s cheek. “Hi,” she whispers back. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s alright,” she says. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
The other woman’s eyes fall on Maelle. “How is she?”
Sciel sighs, reaching over Maelle to hold Lune’s hand. “Fine now,” she explains. “Had a bit of a nightmare earlier, which is why I…why I had fallen asleep.”
Despite being enshrouded by darkness, Sciel is able to see the outlines of Lune’s face, the concern creasing her forehead. She’s about to question her trusted friend, but Lune beats her to the punch.
“Look, I was talking with Monoco,” she begins. “About Maelle.”
“What about her?” Sciel asks, eyebrows slanting downward with worry.
Lune takes a deep breath. “The canvas is killing her, Sciel. Slowly but surely.”
They bring their clasped hands to rest upon the blankets covering Maelle. “Her sobs from earlier today…” Sciel reflects. “Verso likely warned her of this, but she’d rather stay here. Makes sense, honestly. Her life before this doesn’t negate the sixteen years she’s lived on Lumière.”
Lune gives Sciel a knowing look. “You saw how she was. I believe her reasoning runs much deeper.”
Maelle snores softly as they continue their discussion at a hushed, low volume. “We should talk with her tomorrow,” Sciel suggests. “Perhaps get her to open up?”
“And then what?” Lune asks in a harsh whisper. “We erase the canvas?”
Sciel squeezes Lune’s hand. “We take it one step at a time.”
She begins to recognize the extent of what she’d do for that girl. Although she won’t act without Lune’s consent, Sciel would give up her own life if it meant Maelle would live. Death remains a friend, but she simultaneously worries the teenager needs their presence in her life. Whatever their decision is will be based upon what’s best for Maelle. Sciel’s lost so many people dear to her. Pierre, Sophie, Gustave, Emma, all of her students…besides Lune, Maelle is all she has left.