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“You weren't serious, were you, dude?” With apparent nonchalance, Susie's arms intertwine behind her head. “I mean, there has to be a way to fix it.”
Ralsei doesn't respond immediately. Instead, he takes a few moments to reflect, to decide what to say without provoking a negative reaction. On the other hand, he tries not to overthink it, to be a little more honest with himself and with these emotions he has slowly learned to accept. Part of that is for himself, but also because he knows his friends want to get to know him beyond his “good boy” persona.
The monster watches him closely, how he plays with the object in his hands. An idea pops into her head. “Can't we do what we did with Tenna?” The prince's movements stopped, she continues. “You know, go to the Light World, find you and... Who knows, fix you.”
Frankly, it's not a bad idea. As objects in the Light World, their well-being in the Dark World depends largely on the state of their inanimate bodies. It was common knowledge, but not very useful since they are nothing more than that, things. However, with the beginning of the events described in the legend, the hope of not ceasing to be what they are is plausible, especially since the heroes could help.
Things could return to normal, or so Susie thought.
But something in Ralsei's lack of response makes her back down. Her voice is reduced to little more than a whisper. “Wouldn't... Wouldn't you like that?”
Finally, he looks at her. In the eyes of a beast, he finds nothing but concern and kindness. No, he's wrong, because he notices glimpses of something else at times. Her brow furrows, her fists clench, her words offer options, but without any real certainty behind them.
It takes him a few seconds, but Ralsei manages to name those moments when Susie's light goes out. He shakes his head. “Nothing would make me happier, Susie.”
He is being honest. Just as when they asked him if he wanted to spend time with them, or if he felt sorry for not being able to be with them both in the Light World, Ralsei speaks from his heart. He would love for things to go back to the way they were before, for the unfortunate events of their encounter with the Knight to be nothing more than a nightmare caused by constant exposure to danger. He would love to be the Ralsei he always was, smiling and patient, hopeful of creating a change in a story already written.
His left hand clutches the stuffed animal on his belly, his right hand rises and fearfully brushes the pieces of his broken body. “But I'm afraid I don't think that's possible.”
Susie's expression darkens, but she doesn't look angry, not at him. “Why not? You saw Tenna, I just had to use a little tape and—”
Ralsei smiled. Although sad, he really enjoys seeing how much someone as cool as her can care about a secondary character like him. “Tenna's case is the exception, Susie.”
Mr. Ant'Tenna, being a television set, is an appliance important enough to be easily accessible, which prevented the loss of his parts in the Light World. Consequently, despite the severity of the injuries inflicted by the Knight, Susie's first aid in the Light World allowed for his successful recovery.
On the other hand, Ralsei doesn't remember very well what happened after the Knight escaped, but if his assumptions are correct, then that will be lost forever. “Unlike Tenna, I'm not really that important.”
“Don't you dare say that—”
“Susie.” He interrupted her. A calm and objective tone, far from the constant belittlement of his person that they were both accustomed to. “What I am in the Light World is not comparable to a TV or a notebook.”
“But that shouldn't matter,” she protested. “You are our friend, mine and Kris's. What does your value out there matter? For us, here and now, you are irreplaceable.”
The prince's heart warmed at her words. So kind, so concerned, a friendship that had long exceeded his expectations, even making him forget that wanting more from it made him a selfish creature.
Carefully, he placed his hand on hers. Susie didn't pull away, deciding to accept him once again. “I love you too, Susie. I really do,” he whispered. “That's why I don't want you to worry.”
“I want to help you.”
Susie, for once in her life, wants to do something. She failed to protect her friend after that fierce attack, she failed to catch the Knight and give it its deserved beating. The thought of leaving things as they are just feels wrong, because what good is her strength if she's not there when they need her?
As if he had read her mind—sometimes she really believes that's the case—Ralsei tries to appease her inner conflicts. “You being here is more than I could ask for.”
A dry laugh escaped her. “That's the least I can do.”
Ralsei smiled. “Yes, I suppose it is.” The prince thinks for a few more seconds before asking. “Susie?”
“What?”
“If...” His voice sounds low at times. He shakes his head, clearing his throat. “If you really want to help, would you do me a favor?”
She smiles. “I'm on it, man.”
Ralsei lets go of the stuffed animal that offers him comfort and, without letting go of Susie's hand, points to the broken base. “Could you use your magic, please?”
Susie's expression fills with surprise, then she seems uncomfortable, withdrawn, unsure. “You know my strength is destroying things.”
Of course he knows, to the point where her offensive ability seems like something that was already part of Susie before she entered that first fountain. That doesn't mean Ralsei can't see beyond her rough exterior, when she hides in corners, practicing when she thinks no one is watching. Susie might seem violent at first glance, but only a few have had the privilege of witnessing her efforts on behalf of those she cares about.
And how else could he respond to that effort if not by trusting her completely?
“I know you can do it too.”
It never crossed their minds that Darkners could bleed. Yes, they have faced dozens of them, some battles more complicated than others, enemies of all colors and shapes, each with their own way of thinking and living.
To be honest, even though she had a strong desire to tear that thing in two for what it had done to Tenna, the reality was that the intention behind each of her attacks was never to kill. Yes, weakening the Knight and stopping it was her goal, but murder? That was a big word, even for someone in favor of violence like her.
But before she knew it, the bloodlust had taken them down.
And he wasn't moving.
“RALSEI!”
Susie was no stranger to blood: the nauseating smell; the uncomfortable feeling on her scales, hot and sticky; the bright color that was so difficult to clean off. In the Light World, seeing a little wouldn't make her react in the slightest. But there, in a world where they were nothing less than heroes of a legend and on a mission to save the world from the Knight's intentions, panic consumed her by the moment.
Ralsei was the brains of the group, the one who always knew what to do and how to do it. They usually followed the prince's recommendations if they found themselves at a dead end because Ralsei was, basically, a walking encyclopedia.
And now, out of nowhere, they were nothing more than a couple of teenagers lost in the middle of a snowfield.
Susie runs to him and falls beside him, cradling his body as she frantically checks him over. There is so much red that she has trouble finding its source.
His eyes are closed.
“Rals, hey, dude.” With a trembling voice, she called out to him as she patted his face. “Come on, don't do this to me, please.”
She can't be alone again, she doesn't want to be alone again. Susie refuses to lose a friend, not when she's there to prevent it.
She tries. She tries to remember those brief lessons, the feeling of energy flowing through her fingers, the faint green glow. She points at him and waits—somewhat desperately—for some sign that she has done more than waste her time.
The red doesn't stop, the scent doesn't fade.
His eyelids flutter before revealing a dull, almost dead pink.
Susie's heart tightens. “No, man, no—don't look at me like that.”
The red flows, spreading across the eternal white. Kris throws her a Dark Candy, the only thing they have left after the confrontation with that thing. Susie suppresses the urge to complain and focuses her attention on the one in her arms, offering—begging—him to eat the damn candy.
Shaking in her grip and with thick red staining his face, Ralsei tells them they need to go after the Knight.
That he'll be fine.
If it weren't for the state he's in, Susie would have hit him. She's tried to ignore it, but she's not so stupid as to not notice Ralsei's constant attempts to downplay his importance. Saying he's not worth it, that he's little or nothing compared to her and Kris.
The prince's meager energy is drained by ridiculous and, frankly, cruel requests.
She won't abandon him. She won't leave him behind. She promised that when she entered the new fountain: no one will forget anyone. Susie won't break that promise even if that's what he wants.
A weak grip pulls at her jacket. Agitated breathing echoes in her ears, a terrified expression that goes beyond her, seeking their support.
“Y-You mustn't... defy it.” His voice breaks. “Please.”
Ralsei collapses in her arms.
The following events are hazy, lacking in detail. Kris yelling at her that they have to get help, that someone could—should—help them. Red drops leaving an irregular pattern on the canvas a few feet from Tenna's destroyed body—not that they're ignoring it, but having a Darkner unconscious and bleeding in their arms makes it seem much more urgent. A few Darkners are assisting the heroes in their state of panic, telling them what to do.
The worst part comes when Lancer tells them they must abandon the fountain and, with it, Ralsei.
“No, we can't.” Susie snapped, clinging to her unconscious friend. “If we leave him behind, he—!”
For the angel's sake, she didn't even want to think about what might happen. It's not that she doesn't trust her new allies, but her most primitive instincts tell her that she can't be separated from Ralsei, not in that state.
Then, a hand. A stiff touch reaches her shoulder from behind. Susie growls, and Kris just looks at her silently. They want to help, that's what it conveys. They've only known them for a short time, most of them with fleeting interactions, but part of the Darkners' nature is to lend a hand to each other.
Above all, they don't pressure them. They don't force them to make an immediate decision; on the contrary, they wait.
In the gloomy Green Room, she finally gives in.
And in an effort not to regret it, Susie forces herself not to look back.
The next time they see him, they find him in their shared room. When Kris tries to ask why he's not in his room, the Swatchlings' uncomfortable silence says it all. Susie sees them, sees how they try to maintain control by biting their lips and looking away toward the wall.
After all, if they look anywhere else, they will only see him.
Not being a believer, Susie thanked whatever entity was watching over them for allowing her to see Ralsei breathe once more.
There is no red in the room, let alone red staining his white fur. It is a much more pleasant sight than a body lying in the snow, but there are some aspects that inevitably make her uncomfortable. To Susie, Ralsei's horns are like his glasses; he looks strange without them. And where there used to be a perfect curve, there is now nothing but rough, misshapen bone.
She swallowed hard. At least he's not bleeding, she thought.
Being much calmer than she was at that moment, the basics come to her mind more easily. Perceive the particles in the environment, channel the energy inside, determine a target point, guide the flow toward it.
The green is so faint that it is barely perceptible. It does not surround the prince's body with a warm and comforting aura, it is just a warm touch, a gentle caress on the head.
Susie knew she couldn't expect much, but that doesn't stop her from feeling helpless. She laughs without enthusiasm. “Heh... I told you so.” I'm no good at this.
He looks at her. “That's not what you said.”
She shakes her head. Does she really have to play along? From the prince's expression, it seems she does, and even if it seems pointless at this point, she asks. “Are you feeling better?”
Ralsei smiles. “Much better.”
When she leaves their room with the excuse of wanting to get something to eat, he doesn't follow her. Instead, he closes his eyes. Although vague, he can still feel something. Or someone. And when he realizes who it is, a curve accentuates his face.
“You didn't have to spy, Kris.”
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, the young human emerges from inside the closet, their gaze averted at all times.
Ralsei shakes his head before deciding to get up from his seat. His legs are shaking so much that he needs to lean part of his weight on the tea table. When he looks in front of him, he finds himself face to face with his little stuffed animal. Right, he had it on his lap, didn't he? And there was Kris, with their arm raised, waiting for the prince to take it back.
The Darkner smiled. “Thank you for your help. I appreciate it very much.”
Their shoulders shift uncomfortably, unsure of what to do next. Kris was a human of few words, so waiting for a response might not be the most effective course of action. Instead, Ralsei decides to go with the common and simplest approach. “Are you all right?”
He finally catches the young one's attention. Red eyes glistened, confused, almost as if his question had been meaningless babble. Ralsei cleared his throat. “Since I haven't been able to keep an eye on you guys lately, I wanted to know if you were okay. You know, since things have been a bit of a mess lately...”
The human shakes their head, incredulous at what they hears. They gesture for him to stop before pointing at him.
Are you okay?
“It hurts from time to time,” he admits. “But I want to believe that I'll be okay, that everything will be okay.” Kris remains motionless, apparently dissatisfied with his answer. Without losing his patience, Ralsei asks once more. “Is something wrong?”
Red eyes stare down at his pink ones.
Can't you cure him?
“It doesn't work that way, Kris.” He responds gently and cautiously, as if the news were something that harms them and not him. From the way they frown, he has clearly noticed. “Even though I know what I am, I don't know where I am.”
Unlike the Darkners of Cyber World or TV World, Ralsei's connection to his Dark Source was—as he called it—more flexible. It allowed him to travel between worlds without fear of being petrified, which was undeniably convenient given his role as assistant and guide since he became conscious.
For this reason, when the heroes sealed those sources, all their inhabitants would appear in the Light World in their inanimate forms, Tenna and Queen being the most obvious examples.
Despite his immense knowledge of the Dark Worlds and the Prophecy, Ralsei knew little or nothing about the Light World. Most things came from his own interpretations of the legend. Consequently, his knowledge of him—the lonely dark prince—was limited, if not scarce, and although he knew how the connection between the illusion and the physical object was fundamental to his existence, he wasn't even sure what it was.
Furthermore, from the way the Knight's attack cut through him, an even more uncomfortable idea emerged from the depths: it found him in the Light World, breaking him in the process. And that led to another question: why? Ralsei is intelligent enough to know that without him in the equation, the fate of the world would be doomed.
After all, he was born to be ——— in the end.
To be honest, the fact that he was still “alive” even though the Knight could have killed him that night terrified him. He knew that in their encounter with it, it had held back quite a bit, almost amused that a group of children thought they could do anything.
It was only after that string of cuts that left them on the verge of collapse—but still standing—that it had had enough.
And then everything was a disaster.
Ralsei became a burden when he never should have been. He altered the facts by being responsible for guiding them through them. A resounding failure, no doubt.
“At least...” he says carefully. “It will serve as a reminder. I won't make the same mistake twice.” He looks at his restless hands. “Kris?”
The human clenches their fist tightly. The small stuffed animal is reflected in the ruby.
“It won't happen again.”
What should have been there could not be found.
They knew it had been taken.
“I promise.”
In a dark world, a fragment is separated from its whole.
Red and bleeding, it fades like dust between his hands.
In a bright world, a fragment shines by its absence.
Broken and opaque, lacking its lost half.