Chapter Text
The sun finally shows itself over the Horizon, the book you're reading no longer lit only by lamplight.
The room you've found yourself in is neat but has some odd clutter. It's too clean to be completely abandoned for long and too cluttered to be a room at an inn.
You recall Mirabelle and Isabeau having to actually ask about the place the people of Bambouche allowed you to stay in. And after some prodding by your wonderfully upstanding party members, they admitted it was previously the home of a person that had fled Vaugarde while things were freezing over and that those that fled would surely be honored to have the heroes stay temporarily.
News travels quite slowly after all, you’ve met a few people on your travels to the coastal town that were returning home after leaving to another country to survive. So really, you’re half expecting to be kicked out at a moment's notice but also really intent on caring for the home since the town's people were rather insistent about you all staying somewhere nicer than rooms at an inn. And of course you all weren’t able to stay at Bonnie and Pètronille’s place, it’s a bit too small and it would feel wrong to impose on someone you’d barely met and have a somewhat kinda complicated relationship with.
Like hello there Bonnie’s Sister, we’ve been the ones taking care of your younger sibling while you were frozen, and we took them to fight the king — the same king in fact that froze you— with us and, and… You shake your head sharply, trying to expel those thoughts as you hide your face in your cloak, hiding from no one but your own thoughts and failures. It didn’t happen, it never will happen, you will never fail them like that again, not in a trillion years.
The king is dead, gone, and he got his stupid happy ending by being a blinding idiot —like someone who's looking at the sun through a telescope and discovers sunspots— instead of actually working for it, or trying to continue in spite of everything.
You close the book you were reading —a book on predicting particular astronomical events, Including eclipses and planet positions— and place it back on the pile of twenty other so and so books only you can read. The real surprising part is that these aren't even all of the books in Bambouche.
The context was that you had started your stay by coming to the library thinking that there would be one or two books for you to go through but surprise, surprise they had an entire shelf full of books from The Island, your country. Stars you felt both like the luckiest person in the world and filled with dread, with all the potential in each of these books had and all the time you would need to spend to understand them.
You think back for a moment to when you came to the library in the first place.
“One of the heroes! Greetings to you from my humble library. Are you interested in these books specifically?” the librarian said with a smile, he seemed enthusiastic but serene with the way he spoke and addressed you. The shelf was imposingly tall, there was a warning on a paper taped to the shelf that the books were about the island and all the consequences that entailed. “Yeah…” were the only words you said as you grabbed one of the first books on the shelf. “I had to move them some time ago, quarantine them, I suppose. I’ll have to warn you, these books are known—” You open the book, ignoring his warnings, he turned away from the open page, not wanting to chance the pain. But that looking away meant the calm librarian watched your expression, it’s stranger than when the others look through you, when your family looks through you, like he’s someone trying to figure out a puzzle without any reference.
“It’s not a problem,” You muttered then, “I can read them fine.” The next words he had said threw you for a loop — heh loop… loop… “I guess a hero's work is never finished then,” the calm librarian mused.
“Hmm?”
“Ah, is it a secret then? I won't tell anyone,” He said as a smile graced his lips, there was a bit of pride in his words at that moment, like he figured out the puzzle that you didn't even know you made. You pause in anticipation.
“I’d say you lot already got a pretty good track record, if there’s anyone we can trust to figure out how to return the island to our memories it’s the heroes that defeated the king and saved Vaugarde.”
Those words sort of triggered something, you felt wrong then, like you’d just been blindsided by the stars themselves. You had quickly and politely gathered what books you could, and excused yourself to find your family without actually answering any questions or confirming anything. Questions of your own did flood your head as you walked. Would your family help? Would your people be happy? Was there a good reason for the disappearance?
And then lastly… most importantly... Is it even possible?
You snuff the lamp in the small room and stand to stretch. You have time, maybe not all the time in the world anymore, but that’s a good thing, it’s not a blinding torturous time loop, at least.
Isabeau’s bag lies on the floor of your shared room but he’s nowhere to be seen. All of you were invited to a sleepover last night over at Bonnie and Pétronille’s home but you were so close to finishing one of the books that you opted to stay, they understood. You got a good view of the stars this night, maybe you could have shared it with your family.
They understand why but… you still hate when they tend to dance around things, sometimes you wish you could just tell them to be straightforward, your feelings aren’t that fragile.
You turn to the door right before you hear a familiar knock; You quickly end up opening the door as you straighten your cloak. Mirabelle stands there, ready for the day already, her rapier rests at her side. “Siffrin! Good Morning,” she says brightly. She seems well rested—wait, did she not go with the others?
You shoot to ask her about it before it slips your mind.
“Oh, I just… sometimes you need to just recharge, right?”
You nod along with her at first, before you actually remember the reason.
“Heh, this is about your sworn rival isn't it?” You say with a casual cadence. “Yeah,” Mirabelle says with a sigh. You both get it, after being frozen most people wouldn't expect their world to be shaken up like that… but on the other hand you have been able to tell that Pétronille’s one sided rivalry has been irritating Mirabelle.
You pick up the lamp you've been using with a sly grin, “Well things can only get lighter from here don't you think?”
Mirabelle playfully punches your shoulder. You don’t think she would have done that before or any time on your journey to defeat the king.
“A-ny-way,” she says emphasizing each syllable, “we shouldn’t fall behind on eating without our resident star chef, you want to help me make breakfast?”
A half-hour later and you're both cleaning up from the food you’d made, you need to make sure everything is spotless. Mirabelle even told you a bit about the plant that was on the table, that she figured out it needed to only be watered every other day after meeting with a gardener in town. And on the subject of food Mirabelle is a pretty decent cook all things considered. “Did you end up taking a class on this?” you ask. Mirabelle looks into your eyes with a bit of an owlish expression that becomes slightly resigned, “Yes… but it’s not like taking the class turned me into someone like Bonnie.” Before you can say anything you notice Mirabelle squinting at you with suspicion.
“This isn't a spoiler or anything, right?” you quickly shut down that thought before it can be aired, “It’s just, at some point you said that you took a lot of classes for… learning's sake? And just, you said it never felt like they applied to real life, and you didn’t learn anything worthwhile.” She’s still looking at you, she feels really hard to read right now, but you can’t stop yourself from continuing even more. “But you can cook! You can research and learn! And you took a hundred something classes and you know a lot of things, and you have critical thinking skills even if you're not a confident expert in everything!”
Mirabelle brings her hands to her chest as she hears your compliments, “Ah… you’re too much right now.”
“But it’s true! Even if… things happened, you were still always the right choice.”
The silence stays there for a while, your feelings buddies and sometimes those feelings just so happen to be compliments.
Mirabelle takes a breath as she closes her eyes, “Thanks, you're a pretty fast learner too if all those books have anything to say about it.” You nod, you half wonder if the reason is just because you’re just re-learning things you used to know.
“But I grabbed you today for a reason,” she continues with a hesitant smile, “Can I ask you to do something… you don’t have to accept if you don’t want to?” You look at her, trying to read what she’s going to ask.
“Go on…” You say with a mischievous expression.
She builds herself up as she quickly looks away from you. “Siffrin, I would like to…”
“...”
“Challenge… you to a friendly duel!” she says with playful enthusiasm as she makes an over dramatic flourish, the moment feels straight out of a book.
You pause for a long time…
And it’s all because this rather friendly provocation makes you feel nothing but fear. You can’t, like you can’t can’t. You’ve barely used your weapon at all since your fight… with Loop, and you were exhausted after using up so much energy. With everyone in Vaugarde unfrozen, your family has been allowed to breathe as other people are dealing with sadnesses on the road again as well, and there were less sadnesses in general with the king stirring the pot.
And that fear doesn’t even include the fact that you're stronger now —so much stronger, actually— than all of your family members. You’ve honed your skills to a point that you don’t feel threatened by anything but… yourself .
You shake your head as you answer, hiding your face behind your cloak, “...I don’t think that is a good idea.” Mirabelle seems disappointed at your outright refusal.
“I'm not going to get hurt, don’t worry, I've got quite the shield,” Mirabelle smiles at you holding her open hand out. It's not the point in the end, you know her craft. She did protect you every time against the king even when less powerful but it's… different, you don't want to raise your blade in combat against her.
Unless… is this her subtle way of saying she's still mad? That she wants to fight you because of it, the duel just being a disguised way to do it. You don't want to brush Mirabelle off, and you kind of deserve it if she does want to hit you a few times.
You want to hide, but you speak before you can think further, “Okay, I'll do it.”
Mirabelle seems to notice your discomfort not shifting after she confirmed her resilience. So she opts to grab both of your hands… it's grounding.
She looks you in the eyes, “I'm not trying to pressure you or anything but… I think it might be good for you?” She looks away as she continues, “I mean sometimes you just need to hit something. I’ve heard that it’s a method for unwinding, y’know using your craft. And, And we can find a bounty for some sadness, and we'll be just the two of us on a small adventure? And then we'll duel after that sadness warm up.”
‘...I did say okay already,” you say, trying to come off more casual than you feel.
You glide through the forest with a practiced precision. There was a powerful sadness at an abandoned farmhouse a bit of a hike from town. Mirabelle lags slightly behind.
“So…” you begin, still walking through the forest at a brisk pace, “Is this the only way you can pay them without them refusing?”
“Yes,” Mirabelle groans in irritation, “It's so annoying to have to negotiate everything. I swear I've never haggled this much before, especially not for higher prices.” You laugh slightly, you can't imagine not taking the handouts outright, though you suppose your ability to negotiate is a luxury in and of itself.
You pause as you reach the clearing with the farmhouse. The building is overgrown with vines and leaves. And the probably once filled garden is completely overtaken. There are an assortment of many-hued flowers all over the place.
“You're,” Mirabelle huffs as she ends up beside you a few moments later, “Definitely faster now, hard to keep up.”
“Oh, sorry.”
Mirabelle psychs herself up as she shakes off her exhaustion. “It’s fine. It’s fine. So, sadness first, then duel?”
“Sounds good to me.”
You draw your knife for the first time recently to do something other than carve. You shouldn't overkill it, you remember their reactions the first time you did something like that after all. (They were afraid, like you were some wild animal that would maul them.)
You step over some vines as you get to the porch. The door is sealed shut by the vine.
You cut away at it, it glides smoothly through the vines, your blade doesn't break and the tense anxiety is different from the other time you broke through a door.
The door creaks open and you immediately see a single sadness in the dilapidated living room.
It's on its knees clutching something you can't see. “It seems so small,” Mirabelle comments as you both glance at it.
It seems to be the only sadness around the property, all on its lonesome.
It clutches whatever it's holding tightly as it stares at the unlit fireplace, you notice the ash of paper that was once burned away on the mantle.
When you comment on it, Mirabelle steps inside to get a better view. A single misstep creaks, causing the sadness to whip their vision towards you. It's holding a small sealed letter, the sadness's heart clearly exposed.
You ready your blade but not without making a comment as you both analyze it, “I wonder who's the letter for…”
“I don't know but it looks lonely without any other sadnesses around,” Mirabelle adds as she steadys her rapier.
You have the first move as you bolt forward with a familiar speed. Its hands say paper so you take your strongest scissors attack and just… attack.
It goes down in an unsatisfactory but strong single hit, you never did name that skill…
Mirabelle looks at you incredulously, it doesn't feel like the last time you overkilled something in front of your family members. But you don't wait for the other shoe to drop.
“Umm… ta-da,” you say, spreading out your hands towards the defeated sadness.
“No pun, really?” She doesn't seem scared at all as she asks, just curious about the nameless skill.
You think for a moment, trying to salvage it. Then the metaphorical lightbulb flashes, “Well… all I did was, Just Cleave it?”
Mirabelle sighs even though she asked you in the first place. “I should have seen that one coming.”
You point to your eyepatch, “So you were blind sided?”
She looks at you, her expression is fond and exasperated so you must be doing something right, “Your daily limit of puns has been reached please try again tomorrow.”
“Darn,” you mutter, leaving just enough space for her to expect the next counter-pun before turning to other matters, “We should grab the evidence of getting rid of it and head back then right?”
You lean down to remnants by the fireplace. “Right,” Mirabelle almost automatically follows your lead before practically spinning on her heel.
“Sif-frin.” “Mir-a?”
“You're not avoiding this, right? Because I'm not trying to…”
“2 minutes, please,” you respond, trying to bring your smile to your eyes, “I just need a sec.”
Mirabelle sighs slightly, briefly you wonder if your small gambit failed, but you're placated by a simple, “I'll wait outside for a bit then.”
You nod as you watch her open the partially rotted door and go to sit on the porch. The door swings as closed as it’s able to in its gnarled state.
Your attention is dragged to your weapon, your simple dagger, as you lower yourself to sit cross legged on the floor. It's dangerous, who knows how many sadnesses have met their end by it, the same ones over and over again. Maybe you've defeated enough kings for it to be a true kingslayer.
The blade though only remembers the last time, your family only remembers the last time, where you messed everything up.
You grab the sharpening stone from your pocket and drag it across the blade muttering a simple wish.
“Please be harmless,” you say the first time, the sparks dropping to the ground.
“Please be harmless,” you say again, focusing on not wanting to hurt Mirabelle.
“Please be harmless.” The third time, you realize the irony of wanting your weapon to not work.
“Please be harmless,” you say the fourth time, but it doesn't yet feel right.
“Please be harmless,” you say the fifth time and you feel like you can suddenly breathe, confident in your true wish, your single minded desire.
Stars, you don't want your wish to be misconstrued, but you know the universe listens.
You take a shaky breath as you stand to full height. A hopefully harmless blade in your hand.
You step outside quietly, Mirabelle's looking out at the clearing, she hasn't noticed you… yet. You are quite aware of the devious smile forming across your face.
You come up quietly, smoothly with a roguish gait. You're right above Mirabelle's shoulder, your gaze follows hers, she's looking at a flower, it's an ordinary azalea, you've seen a lot of them around here. You make your move, “What are we looking at?” Mirabelle jumps sharply. “Bwuh! Huh!” She slightly composes herself as she looks at you with a playfully displeased expression. “You jerk, don't scare me like that.”
“Sure,” you give her a wink in response as you jump down off the porch. You go to pick the single azalea she was looking at. You don't want to hurt her, or your family, again. And you will do everything in your power not to.
But… you feel something different, there's a strange kind of fun in performing for no one, not to hide your emotions, or playing at keeping your distance because you just don’t remember enough about yourself. You wonder vaguely if some of Mirabelle’s novels have grandiose duels at their climax.
“Mirabelle,” you begin as you point the azalea at her, bringing the other hand holding your dagger to your chest, “ The universe guided me to this duel, the stars watch us with no intent of tipping the scales, the eclipse shall arrive soon. You have no time.” You feel like you're reading a script, an actor playing a character. There's a familiar performance, hazy and distant in your mind that springs out at this moment.
“ Know this, if nothing else tonight my powerful foe, the wish-breaker hero… falls today. For that is the hue of my only wish.”
You toss the flower to Mirabelle, she barely catches it, seemingly far more intent on staring at you with curiosity.
You fall out of the language, going back to what you are always speaking day in and day out to your family.
“So tell me hero, shall you take up your arms?”
Your question seems to get Mirabelle out of her stupor as she fixes her grip. She’s clearly no trained actor as she stumbles to come up with her improvised lines.
“Of Course,” she says with new unsteady determination, “I shall defeat you... Siffrin!”
Mirabelle takes her stance with the tip of her blade pointed at you. Your dagger is close at your side as you lean down ready to strike, like a snake coiled up.
Let this performance begin, and only when one is defeated shall the curtains close.