Chapter Text
Your body ached. A sleeve of your jacket had burnt away, the rest riddled with cuts and slashes, and you struggled to catch your breath as your body finally began to feel the last punch it threw.
You were beaten. Bloodied. Tired.
But as you dropped your improvised ammounition to the floor, scattering back alongside the rest of the broken jewels and gold, you supressed the grin that rose to your face in light of one last piece of information.
You'd hurt it worse.
"𓀿𓀃𓀎𓂀𓄿𓇋𓌑𓏎𓐧INTERESTING.𓀿𓀃𓀎𓂀𓀎𓂀𓄿𓇋𓌑𓏎𓐧" It spoke down to you, its several sets of eyes flickering wildly as its body shook and shivered. "𓀿𓀃𓀎𓂀𓂀𓄿𓇋𓌑𓏎𓐧HOW𓀿𓀃𓀎𓌑𓏎𓐧VERY𓀿𓂀𓄿𓇋𓌑𓏎𓐧𓏎𓐧VERY𓀿𓀃𓀎𓂀𓄿𓇋𓌑𓏎𓐧INTERESTING.𓀃𓀎𓂀𓇋𓌑𓏎𓐧"
...It mocked you. Belittled you, looked down upon you in your moment of victory. Your eyes darted back down to the improvised pellets you'd dropped as for sliver of a moment you felt your anger rise- but you quickly shoved it back down. Now wasn't the time.
"WE𓀿𓀃𓀎𓂀𓄿𓀃𓀎𓂀𓄿𓇋𓌑𓏎𓐧THANK𓏎𓐧𓀿𓀃𓀎𓂀𓄿𓇋𓌑𓏎𓐧YOU.𓀿𓀃𓀎𓂀𓄿𓄿𓇋𓌑𓏎𓐧 FOR𓀿𓀃𓀎𓂀𓄿𓇋𓀿𓀃𓀎𓂀𓄿𓇋ANOTHER𓀿𓀿𓀃𓀎𓂀𓄿𓇋𓌑𓏎𓀿𓀃𓀎𓂀𓄿𓇋SOUL."
"𓀿𓀃𓀎𓂀𓄿𓇋𓌑𓏎𓐧𓀃𓀎𓂀𓄿𓇋𓌑𓏎𓐧SEALED FOR ETERNITY.𓀿𓀃𓀎𓂀𓄿𓇋𓌑𓏎𓐧𓀃𓀎𓂀𓄿𓇋𓌑𓏎𓐧"
But even so, you felt as your hand gripped tight along the slingshot's shaft, your finger itching to draw the string back. A part of you wanted to pick those shattered gemstones back up, and send just one more into it's eye.
...You could do it. Easily. Silence this stupid thing back into the pit from where it came. Tear it to pieces. Stab and shoot, dice and burn and freeze until what remained was unrecognizable, until what remained could no longer remind you of your failure.
You hated it. But your control over yourself was slipping. Even now, espically now, as you felt them clawing away in the back of your mind, you had to stay calm. You had to stay level. Anything more, and...
You couldn't let them. Not after everything you'd done. Everything you'd given to get here.
You watched as its many eyes closed, falling down into a shower of sand as it spat the Firebrand back out towards you, clattering to the ground below, as heat pulsed off of it in waves.
...You don't recall how long you spent staring it down. Only how quiet the red river felt in the empty silence.
You had your prize. You'd found your reward.
Your burden.
...You couldn't grab it just yet. You knew what happened next, and you needed time to compose yourself. They'd stop clawing in time, and you knew it would only get worse with another to your collection. A breathing exercise, A shock to the system with an unrelated thought, something you could touch, something you could hear-
"I...I can't do this, I need to get out of here, I-" A voice called out from behind you.
...Calypso.
"...Feels like it was just yesterday, doesn't it, Trotter?"
You drowned the rest out. You...You would be able to manage, after you composed yourself, but you'd need to be fast. The longer you stayed, the harder the task would become. You hesitate as you step forward to claim it, but do all the same.
...Your prize. The fruit of your labor.
...Yours.
"Ours.":
A voice in the back of your head corrected you, as you felt someone crawl back out from beneath. A voice that was supposed to be gone, supressed and banished from your mind.
...You shut your eyes. You need to focus, you need to keep calm, you can't let them back in-
You opened your eyes again, and you found yourself elsewhere. Gone was the volcano, and in its place, you found the temple you'd traveled to get there. The narrow hallways and familiar traps. The Genie.
"Or let thy perish with it." Your heard them hiss, venom in their voice as they flew away, past you, past the walls that then crumbled into nothing.
You were...back. Back not a few hours ago, moving just the same as you had back then, as if watching yourself through a recording.
You, or, the you that you watched, didn't seem to pay the walls too much thought. If they couldn't bring people back from the dead, then you imagined a bottle was a reasonable second choice. It was all it could reasonably do.
Part of you still felt wrong as you took it, but another...another said it felt right. Another felt joy as you took it into your hands. As you added it to your growing collection. It had to be more than a set piece, there was a genie living in it! You could only-
"THINK about what we could do with a MAGIC GENIE BOTTLE!"
You jumped upright, nearly dropping the bottle alltogether as you searched for the source of the voice. The new room you found yourself in was far larger, but there was nobody else to be seen. The voice had come from nowhere, as if-
"'It' isn't a nice thing to call yourself, yaknow. But we can call ourselves a dummy! We're in our head! Well, a little bit more than that, but hey! Details!"
...The voice was familiar, now that you'd heard it speak. You knew it. You...you'd killed it. Banished it from your mind, you-
"Gave us a real damn headache, yeah! But after we got that sword, oh- after we got the Ghostwalker..."
You felt as a something snaked upon your arm. You darted your other to swat it away, but saw nothing.
"What a RUSH! There's been so much more room to breathe in here! So much more space to work with! So much more room for new stuff! It's like you took the cuffs off our hands and slipped a wine glass in its place! And let me tell you; We. Are. LOVING IT! SALIVATING at the thought of how much the next one's gonna give us!"
...You blocked the voice out, continuing down along the path as you searched for something to distract yourself. Another puzzle with a box. Good enough.
It...It wasn't real. It wasn't you. It couldn't be you, you were-
" `BeTtEr ThAn ThAt` Yeah yeah yeah, don't give us that look! Between you and me, at least one of us needs to look out for the real VIP! US!"
...The voice retreated, as you felt it submerge back down into a deeper part of your mind, slithering like worm back beneath the mud.
"Yaknow what's gonna happen the second we go back? We're put right in the middle of our boring nothing lives, with...microwave ramen and doomscrolling about...whoever's doing what! But now? Here? We can live like a king! do anything! Eat anything! There's TREASURE down there. Gold and jewels, ripe for the taking! Imagine how we could live with cash like that!"
...Admittedly, the thought had crossed your mind. No- No, you blanked your mind.
"Yeah, YEAH! We were on the right track for a second there! Fill our pockets! Stuff our faces! When are we ever going to get a chance like this again?!"
You blinked.
You find yourself back at the volcano.
"Cmon, cmon cmon- GRAB IT ALREADY!"
...You needed to finish this quickly.
Ignoring it as best you could, you continued forwards toward the sword. The voice, voices, they had been right about one thing. Since you'd started your journey through the desert, whatever false pretense you'd given yourself had begun to erode away. You hadn't come to terms with your emotions, you hadn't buried them, you'd simply kicked them down the hole. Held the barrel shut as they pounded up from within, waiting for the moment they burst through.
...And so they did, sooner than you would've liked. Claiming the Ghostwalker had made you stronger. Made you fit for the role you were chosen to fill, but you were still you. And you had only-
"Made us louder! Made us better! And this is only with THREE of those things!"
...Enablers. Breakers of limits, in every sense of the word. That is what the swords were. Why their guardians were of such strong moral character.
"Imagine what we could do with four? ALL SEVEN?! Get it!"
...It was getting harder to ignore them, but you had to. Your cause was just. Heroic. You...You were doing this for a good reason.
"Pfft, Yeah, right! Gimme! Gimmegimmiegimmie-"
You cut it off, ripping the sword from the ground before Calypso and turning it over in your hand, disregarding the guttural laugh from the back of your mind as you think of how best to stow it away.
...It was warm. Almost uncomfortably so, as you swore you feel it pulse within your hand.
The thing's laughter only gets louder, grows stronger, the longer you hold it in your hands. You felt as something within expanded, as it echoed in your mind, pressing against the walls of your skull like a tumor. You needed something to silence it, something else to focus on, you needed-
"...You got your stupid sword. Now go." A voice choked out from the silence, sounding...broken? Angry? Frustrated? Hurt, you settled upon, as you turned back to face it.
...Calypso. Her face frozen in...shock? Pain? Something negative, something you couldn't quite tell from beneath her heat, but a tone regardless you knew meant no good. You tried to turn yourself away before she repeated herself, but found yourself unable to. Like watching a car crash, like a dear in headlights.
"Did you not hear me?" She spoke again, the venom in her voice increasing. "Are you really just going to stand there and stare?"
Behind her, at her side, somewhere else before her, you watched as something- as someone began to form out from the darkness. Navy blue and pitch black leaking out from the ground and forming into a mass, then an eye-
...And then staring directly up at her.
"What the hell are we just standing there with our jaw open for, dummy?!" The older voice, your Greed, cried out. "We got places to be! Crack that puppy open and-"
"...We see now." The new voice said, the figure's eye shifting from her to you. "...She's crying."
"Well...duh. I can see THAT, peepers! But why should we give a shit? We have our sword, we can just leave!"
"Isn't it...familiar? So dreadfully, terrifyingly familiar? Seeing the way she feels?"
"...I mean...we..." Greed said back, before pausing after a sigh. "...Yeah. I guess. A LITTLE. But it'd be a lot less on our mind if we just left."
"It would weigh on our conscience." The other voice, your Sorrow, said, as you gave its words some thought.
...It had merit. It had backing.
You still saw the King's bones when you closed your eyes to sleep. You-
"Alright, Alright! You don't gotta beat us over the head with it!" Greed said in frustration. "Faceboy! Fix this mess, and lets get going!"
...But how were you supposed to fix something like this?
"...An apology would be a start."
"LEAVE." Calypso repeated once more before you, harshly pointing down the way you'd come. "I don't care where the hell you go, just...leave! Get out! I-"
"I'm sorry." You muttered, just barely loud enough to interrupt her, before waiting for her response.
And Calypso, some time later after a moment of silence...laughed. Something sad and dry and angry and so many other things mixed together that you didn't quite know how to put it.
"...What's that about?"
"...I believe we said it wrong."
"How did we say it wrong? It's two words!"
"...You're sorry? You're...sorry?" Calypso said, abruptly drawing close as you watched a fake smile rise to her face, betraying furious eyes. "Oh, thank god! My family is dead, but- but that's ok! You're sorry!"
"Hey, uh...bluey, maybe this wasn't such a good idea-"
"They're gone!" She screamed, as she jabbed a finger into your chest. "Dead! What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!"
"I'm sorry-" You repeated, backing away in response, only for her to take two more to match it. "It- It wasn't supposed to happen like this! I'm sorry! Please, just-"
"THEN HOW THE HELL WAS IT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN?!"
Another thought began to stir inside your head, as your eyes wandered to rest anywhere but her face. The jewels and gold, the scorched marks in the earth-
...The flintlock at her side. The way her other hand seemed to rest upon it. The smell of spent powder and burning iron and blood-
"S-She knows how to use it."
"SHUT UP!" You screamed back, pushing her away with your free hand as you backtracked further towards the stairway down, clasping both hands on either side of your head as your screwed your eyes back shit. "ALL OF YOU! JUST- SHUT UP! I need to think! I...I can't-"
"...She knows how to use a sword too." The third voice said regardless. "We need to...The sword. We dropped the sword. Where's the sword?!"
You opened your eyes, and you saw the Firebrand, sitting idle upon the stone nearby.
...Alongside Calypso, staring between you and it, her mouth moving to speak...something, muted by the sound of the voice inside your head.
"S-She's closer to it than us."
Purple roots and shifting branches- You think you see her mouth the words "stand down" or "stop."
"She has a gun. She has two guns, and she knows how to use them-"
Sulpher and brimstone and gunpowder. Concern and worry and fear in her voice. Panic.
"She's going to take the sword. She's going to take our other ones. She's going to kill us for what we did."
You scrambled back forwards, but abruptly came to a halt as a blade was leveled to your face.
"...I know neither of us are thinking straight right now, Sharkbait, but I need you to stop." You finally heard her say in a moment of clarity. "...It's poisoning you, like it poisoned him. You need to stop."
Your eyes shifted between the point of her blade and the heat that rose off the surface of the Firebrand.
You watched as she fervently shook her head no. She begged you not to, her eyes full of concern. Hurt and Fear.
...The voices were quiet. Watching. Waiting. Fearful in their own right.
"S-She's closer to the sword than us."
All but one.
"S-She's going to take it! She's going to use it against us! We can't let her! WE CAN'T LET HER!"
We blinked, the volume of it's voice disorienting-
...And once more you found yourself on the ground. Your head was bleeding, your mind was racing, you needed time to make sense of everything, you needed a moment to breath, you-
You feel the burn of steel against your skin as it pressed against your temple. Smell the stink of Sulphur. Your one eye still unobstructed stared up-
And the Captain stared back down.
"I...will NOT tolerate... YER MUTINY!"
"We need to get up." A voice inside your mind whispered. A voice inside screamed. "We need to get up!"
"...HAVE AT ME."
"GET UP!"
The sensations were overwhelming. The metal that sears into your flesh. The taste of blood as it drips down into your mouth. The pounding of your heart within your chest-
...The click of the flintlock as he pulls the hammer back.
You didn't want to die.
You didn't want to die.
YOU DON'T WANT TO DIE.
You called forth the Ghostwalker, moments before the bullet fired into your skull. You panicked, adrenaline surging as the round phased through your head, piercing into the rock below.
You became corporeal. You struck him with the first thing your hands wrap themselves upon, the shovel from the tomb- and thrust it into his face in a panic.
A satisfying clang. The crunch of bone. The drip of blood that remains as you pulled the head away.
He was dazed. He was vulnerable. You wouldn't let him hurt you again.
You descended upon him like an animal.
Blow after blow after blow, stab after shot after slash as you lashed out like cornered prey.
A slingshot's pellet hit him in his one good eye, a blast sends the better portion of his wooden leg into the lava below. A blade cleaves his hook, and the flesh just adjacent, clean from his arm.
You scream in terror as he walls to the floor, collapsed against the stone from which the Firebrand had been pulled. You don't let him retake the advantage.
You drive your fist into his face, again and again and again, until Calypso begs you to stop. Until she has to pry you free from his barely breathing body.
We Blink.
"We can't let it happen again-" The voice, your Fear begged you. "WE CAN'T LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN!"
"...She will not. She is broken. We can see it in her eyes."
"S-She could be pretending! She could be hiding what she really has left! Saving it for now, so that she could get us when she could! WE NEED TO GET THE SWORD! WE NEED TO RUN!"
"That's the first smart thing you've said all day, slendy! Third thing altogether but, who's really counting? GET IT! GET THE SWORD!"
Your hand stumbled at your side as you searched for something to fight with. It stumbled across the hilt of the same shovel, still stained with his blood. You swung it forwards, and watched as her own is sent flying away.
You ran, dodging a wayward arm as it reached out for your jacket, gripping your arm, but only ripping the rest of the sleeve's tattered cloth away. You passed her by, you reached down to grab it-
You felt yourself tripped over an outstretched leg. Far too little, far too late. You're closer than her. You're safe. You have it.
You reclaimed your prize, stuffing it into your backpack. You'd fix the hole later, you'd fix whatever had been broken, whatever hurt later- you needed to leave. You needed to leave now.
You run for the stairway down. You shoot one last wayward glance to your pursuer, to her, know well that she'd give chase-
...Only to see Calypso collapsed along the floor.
"Please! No, Please! Stop! You can't-"
She's trying to trick you. To make you stop. To question yourself just long enough for her to make a new plan. You can't let her. You don't let her. You take another few steps back towards the exit.
"G-Go! GO!" Fear screamed into the back of your mind. "RUN! BEFORE SHE STARTS GETTING UP! "
You listen, you began to continue your dash away, you listen for the inevitable sound of feet that pursue you-
...But they do not come. And in it's place, you heard...sobbing. The terrible, awful, broken sound of sobbing.
"I'm sorry-" You heard her manage to sputter out among the tears.
...An apology, as you heard her continue. To you. To the captain. To the crew, to her family- to everyone she'd failed to save.
...It was terrible. It stabbed into your heart like a knife. Wretched it free and crushed it in its hands.
You...
You hated it. You wanted it to stop. You wanted whatever had begun it to be silenced, you-
You stopped, moments away from the first stair along the path. You didn't know how to stop it, but you knew well what the problem was.
You.
"It was a l l y o u r f a u l t."
It returned, full force into your mind, pushed the rest of the voices back with its presence alone. The one with no invitation. The one that needed none.
The one that stuck so close to the core of your hollow heart, wherever you shed your horrid light.
It blinked.
It coursed through you as you watched the mass ascend from below. As it's many sets of eyes turned to look upon you. As it interrupted her, as it began to speak.
...It's words were muffled by the sound of the blood pumping in your ears.
"We should still be afraid. We're still bloodied, still hurt. As is she".
You should want to run at the sight of it. You should be cowering. Begging for mercy. Hiding away like the rat you are.
"...But we are not." One last familiar voice said, as it rose up from the depths below, as it gave you strength the same to rise to your own feet. It forced you to grit your teeth, to knit your eyebrows down and grasp your weapon with such force that you feel the wood beneath begin to splinter.
It made you angry.
It took him. Because of you. Because of her. Because of that stupid sword, a good man is dead.
And the beast before you speaks at length about his soul.
How it suffers. How it writhes. How much pleasure it derives from the act of his suffering.
A part of you wants it to stop. Wants control back. Wants the wrath and anger and hate to go away.
The other grips it like a vice, shoves it down, deeper within. The hate persists. The guilt persists.
...So you do the next best thing you can. You channel it into something productive. You scream in anger, something visceral, some primal, as you aim to strike the first blow.
It blinked again.
Hatred. Of others. Of yourself. Seething and loathsome and terrible.
...Familiar. So terribly, terribly familiar.
...Of all of them, you cannot let it take hold. Not again. You-
" Are pathetic." It whispers into your mind. It spits with venom. "You-"
Ignored it, taking another step closer to the stairs. All you had to do was drown it out. Push on just a bit longer, until the wave passed. until-
"are spineless. Worthless. A writhing mass of putrid flesh. A miserable existence only fit for being extinguished."
A hand wraps around your throat. You looked down, tried to pry it away, but the limb refused to listen. The hand that chokes you was your own. You struggled in its grasp, you tried to resist, you-
"Are a vessel of suffering. Born by it. Molded by it. Created to spread it."
You shut your eyes as they began to deceive you, as you saw something begin to swirl into formation before you. You...You-
"We are not a hero. Stop pretending to be anything other than what we really are. A-"
"Hey uh...Gubby? Can we get a time out for a second?"
...The voice turned its gaze away from you.
"We uh...We really appreciate the assist here, but...yaknow, We're...us. So if you could-"
"S I L E N C E. It screamed, as a fresh burst of pain explodes within your mind. WE ARE SPEAKING. AND IT IS NOT TO Y O U."
...The voice retreated. The others followed in it's footsteps. It turned itself back upon you.
You- You blotted out your mind. A breathing technique, a shock to the system- You couldn't let it win, you couldn't listen to it, it-
"is you. U S. And all we shall do is bring to light the truth that you refuse to acknowledge."
It...It isn't real. It couldn't hurt you. It was all in your head, your imagination, you-
"Still yet hear us speak. Still yet feel our claw around your throat. Still yet listen. And so we shall."
The claw tightens. You uselessly gasp for air.
"...You make us sick. We are not a hero. We are hardly a man."
It releases you, shoving you backwards into a pile of the riches that scatter the floor. Your mind becomes fuzzy as your head smashes against a coin three times its size.
"...No. We- are something else. Something only skilled in the dealings of death. A hero does not leave devastation in their wake. A hero does not commit regicide. A hero does not leave their friends to die, to piece back together the shattered remains of a life that they helped to dismantle."
"SHUT UP!" You screamed, taking the coin from below your head and throwing it in the direction of the voice. You hear as it clatters past, as it tumbles down, farther and farther below. A useless effort.
"I know what we are." It spat back, as the pressure around your throat returned. "We know the perfect word to describe it. As do you."
...No. No, you were better than this. You were better than this, you-
"Took everything from her. And found yourself moments away from leaving her to die. Alone. That is not a hero."
You- You couldn't find the words- Can't dignify it with a response- Couldn't let it get under your skin. You-
"will understand". It growled, inches before your face, its voice dripping with venom. "We are nothing but a-"
...No.
"NO!" You scream back, your eyes jutting open, your hand prying its twin free from your throat.
"...Excuse me?" The voice, your Hatred said, taken aback. "You....Insect. You VERMIN. Who are you to-"
"I'M BETTER THAN THIS!" You shout, taking a step forwards as you unsteadily rise to your feet. "I AM MORE THAN YOU!"
Grasping for breath, you pry the Firebrand free from your pack, throwing it back upwards to the top. You listened as it clattered to the ground, and stared back defiantly at swiriling red mist that had consumed you.
"I AM MORE THAN A MONSTER!"
Your mind felt...clearer, after you shouted it out. Cleaner, if only enough to open your eyes once more. You turn back, and your eyes met hers once more.
Shock. Confusion.
...A begrudging hope.
"...So the mouse has finally found its fangs." Hatred said, it's voice distant, dripping with...amusement. Interest. Something else you couldn't quite make out from under the noise. You didn't have much to work with.
"Make use of them. Prove us wrong. We will be waiting."
It faded back, somewhere farther, somewhere deeper before you could give it any more thought.
Present, but...distant. Watching.
...Waiting.
"...Is he gone?"
"N-No, just...farther away. We should-"
"Good enough for me! Go fetch the stick! Go on! Get it!"
Ignoring the others after having faced Hatred was a far simpler task. You pushed their thoughts away.
...It had been right about one thing. The pain, the suffering you'd caused in your quest, you'd willingly turned a blind eye. In your mind, in your pursuit of the swords, you'd thought that the ends would simply justify the means.
...No. That too was a lie. You hadn't been thinking of the others at all. But you would start now.
You would start with her.
"Wait...that's not a half bad idea! We could do with a competent lackey!"
You shook your head clear from the voices, returning to her side. In your moment of thought, she'd turned back to the sword. Back to concern and worry, to quiet muttered apologies.
...Back to the captain.
"...It doesn't matter. Just take it. We must leave."
You ignored them as you sat down beside her.
She didn't notice, at first. Too consumed in the moment.
...You cleared your throat. "...Hey. I-"
She flinched backwards at the sound of your voice, staggering away and pulling the last of her blades free, and leveling it to your face.
"Hey- Hey! Wait!" You plead, holding your hands up in mock surrender. "I- I'm not gonna do anything stupid!"
"Are you...You?" She asked in turn, her hand shaking, the blade unsteady.
"...I-"
"What are you waiting for? Get it!"
"W-We can't! She's already onto us! She could-"
"She won't. It wouldn't matter anyways. None of it does."
"...I think. Are...you-"
"I never touched that stupid thing." She interrupted, the cutlass clattering to the floor as she set it aside. "Not after...after-"
You watched as her gaze shifted over to the cliff face.
"...He gave me everything." She said, her voice muffled. "He saved my life. Gave me purpose. And...And I murdered him."
...You didn't know what to say.
"I-...I'm confused. I'm lost, I'm scared, I..."
"...I wish I could talk to him about it, but- But that's just the thing, ain't it?"
You reached a hand out to comfort her, but hesitated before you made contact. You didn't know what to do. You didn't even know where you would begin. You froze where you were. You retreated back. You thought.
...Thousands of thoughts and feelings, gestures and expressions cross your mind. A countless amount of ways to proceed, all so impossibly jumbled together that deciding among them was a sisyphian task.
The voices buzzed within your skull.
...You narrowed it down to the four that hit the closest to home.
What better to to comfort someone with than what you yourself would desire?
"I uh...I...know I'm not any good with this, but..."
"But I'm getting a liiiitle tired of sitting and waiting here!"
"...It won't change anything at all, but-"
"I'm just as afraid as you are."
"...I'm just as disgusted with myself as you are."
"-but I'm sorry."
Her hands unclasped her face. Her head turned back to look at you.
"I...can't even begin to imagine what you're going through. How much it all must hurt."
"To be honest, I'm glad I don't!"
"...Nobody deserves to be alone like that."
"Y-You must be terrified."
"You must be furious."
"...You must have a hundred different things in your head right now but...I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry."
She desperately tries to maintain a crumbling sense of composure. Her face is a mess, brown strands of curly hair that tumble into her eyes, replicating and shifting as she desperately tries to push them away. But even so, you hear as her breathing begins to even.
...Her eyes were still red with tears. Her nose still running, her neat and orderly clothes still ruffled and ruined.
"...Don't be." She manages to choke out. "It's my fault. I'm worthless. I couldn't even-"
"Don't say that." You say, interrupting the line of thought as you firmly put a hand over her shoulder. "...Please. Please don't ever say that-"
"You were an AWESOME meat shield!"
"You were you. You couldn't help it."
"Y-You were just afraid. Anyone would be."
"And even then, you'd rank among the best of those wretched things."
"...You're worth so much more than you know."
She looked up at you for a moment, before trying to rip herself away, to lower herself back down to the stone beneath. You didn't let her.
"...I don't know what you see in me." She said, her head turning back down to the sword. "...What either of you saw in me."
"Free minion!"
"A kindred soul."
"Warmth. C-Change."
"A light within the darkness."
"...A friend." You said, placing your other hand upon her other shoulder. "...One who...really, really needs some help. "
...The voices grew quiet. Solidified into one, unanimous thought.
...You didn't let the opportunity go to waste.
"I...know that this can only mean so much." You began, tearing your eyes away as you struggle to find the words. "But...I'll always be there for you. If you want, it's...our burden. Our mistakes. Not just yours."
...You found the strength to look back, And saw that she'd lowered her head down to avoid your gaze.
"...Whatever it is you need me to be, to do- I'll do it." You said, lifting the brim of her hat, revealing eyes once more upon the brim of tears. "A...punching bag, a shoulder, just...someone to talk to, even- I'll be that. Anything."
...And she fell into silence.
"...Well good going, idiots! You broke our minion!"
"...D-Did...Did we say something wrong?"
"...It never mattered what we said. It wouldn't have helped."
"Of course it didn't. We're-"
The voices are cut off as she throws herself into you, arms ensnaring as a fresh wave of sobs emanate from over your shoulder.
"Please-" She choked out, barely finding the air to speak. "Please don't leave me."
She was...warm, as she collapsed into your arms, and you felt as her mask began to melt away. As the shell she'd so carefully formed around herself begins to shatter. As she begins to shatter yours.
...She smelled like spent gunpowder. The swords that adorned her back were scattered about, far out of reach. The barrel of a flintlock still smoked from its holster.
"...I do gotta say, you had the right call convincing her to follow us! Just imagine how much we...could..."
She smelled like burnt cloth. The frills and hims of her gambeson damaged, torn and slashed and burnt, revealing the strength of the arms that held you beneath them. How even one with such a capacity to hurt could themselves be hurt so deeply.
"...get. "
...Greed's voice trailed off.
"...What's happening?"
"I-I don't know, but...i-it's...nice. She's strong. I-It feels...safe here, doesn't it? With her?"
...The others didn't respond.
...Her hair smelled like lavender. Her body still trembled between each sob as she desperately sucked in air. her head lowered into your shirt to muffle the sound. You let her.
"What is this...feeling?"
Greed's tone was...confused. Completely out of character. Without any of its usual witticism or showmanship.
"It's...It's like the hole in my chest is...filling."
"D-Does it hurt?"
"No. No! I...I want more of it! I need more of it, please! Please keep doing exactly what you're doing!"
...Just this once, you allowed yourself to give into greed. You wrapped your arms around her in exchange. You felt her hold upon you tighten. Felt as her tears begin to stain into your shirt. Feel the beat of her heart against your chest.
...Solitude is silent. Fear and Hatred alike follow in its footsteps.
...It's quiet. The moment reminds you of the moment after you'd claimed the Ghostwalker, but...different. Peaceful. As if for a single, fleeting moment, you've found the peace you were meant to find back in the manor's depths.
"...Please don't let her go. "
You didn't.
...Minutes passed by, at the very least. Hours, maybe. You can't quite recall how long you spent holding her. How long she spent holding you. The only measure of time you could say for certain was the gradual fade into content silence. As tears faded into labored, rugged breathing. As even that slowly, everso slowly, returned to stability.
"...I miss her." She mumbles, breaking the silence. "...I miss them all. Even that stupid village, I...I want to go home."
"W-We can't! It's like...a three day trip, even without the swords! We're still barely able to move! We're hurt! How do we tell her?! How-"
"Baby steps." You say, half to her, half to calm the fear that races in your mind. "...We can rest somewhere for the night. Figure it out after that. You had a camp, right? We could-"
"Please don't make me go back there." She interrupted, holding you closer. "I...I can't. I-"
"The Village." You interrupted in turn. "...There was a hotel I think there was another free room, we...can figure it out there."
You felt her nod against you, before slowly, almost begrudgingly, she separated herself from your embrace.
...Despite the heat that surrounded you, as you stood, you couldn't help but feel...cold. The voices in the back of your mind seem to silently concur.
As you helped her to her feet, supported her weight with your own, you supposed that they would settle for the compromise.
"H-Hey, I...don't mean to...ruin this or anything, b-but-"
"The Firebrand."
...You turned your head back. It glistened in the light before you. You separated from her arm, hobbling back over to it's side, watching from the corner of your eye as Calypso gives you a concerned, hurtful look.
"Just....wrap it up in cloth or something!"Greed said, impatient as you stood over the blade. "We can deal with it later! We have better things to worry about!"
"W-We couldn't even carry these coins if we tried! How are-"
You began to scavenge around through your pack for something to wrap it up in. Calypso tapped your shoulder and offered you a roll of bandage. Something she'd picked up or dragged along from the mummies of the tomb, you assumed.
You grabbed it.
"I'm not talking about the coins, dummy! Well, maybe we can fit a couple- Look, just grab them before we go, but- we're not talking about that!"
"T-Then what?"
You wrapped the sword away as best you could.
"Her! The...The hug thing! We have like...THREE swords! FOUR now, but...but we've only had one of those. And...we want more of them."
"It...w-was pretty nice."
You stashed the sword back away into your pack, unceremoniously falling back into the same hole you'd stabbed through it in your haste. You sighed. You'd have to-
The bandages slip. Your hand brushed upon the hilt of the blade.
...And strangely enough, the voices didn't get louder. They didn't grow more aggressive, they hardly even seemed to notice. As if they found themselves...content.
...You quickly wrapped the hilt back up before they grew wise, rushing back to her side and helping her limp back down the volcano.
....Maybe this was what purity really meant, you supposed. Not destroying your emotions, but...coming to terms with them, as Hatred had said. Agreeing with yourself. Finding common ground.
Perhaps that was why it was so uncommon for those who wielded it to survive. They had nothing to unify them. Nothing their emotions could truly agree upon. No anchor to keep them steady, no boat with which to sail through the sea.
...You'd found yours. And wherever the winds blew, you could only hope it would take you together.