Archive of Our Own

You’re so stupid!

Of course there was another trap. Of course! This was all too easy from the start. From the moment you and your allies set foot in the abandoned House and laid eyes on that strange Sadness, you should have known! You should have known there was something weird going on. Sadnesses never run from anybody. Ever.

Except this one did.

It tricked your party into chasing it through the halls, into cornering it, into killing it, into taking the Orb, and waltzing victoriously out of the House to what you thought was freedom.

But it wasn’t.

It isn’t.

An army of Sadnesses writhe and wail before you.

Unlike the Sadness in the House, these have no qualms about attacking.

You draw your dagger and duck a heavy swing from a Rock type—only for a blow from another Sadness to strike your side and send you stumbling off balance. Your left palm hits the ground.

But you don’t fall. Not completely. Still, your new awkward position doesn’t allow for defense or offense, and the Sadnesses know it. They lurch closer.

GET UP!

You know you aren’t fast enough. You know even as you push off your palm to stand and tighten your grip on your dagger. This is going to hurt.

Suddenly Isabeau is there, cutting off your view of the advancing Sadnesses. His arms take the brunt of the attack meant for you, and you flinch right along with him.

AHHH! You’re messing up, you’re messing up, YOU’RE MESSING UP!

“You okay, Sif?” Isa asks, glancing at you over his shoulder. He really should keep his eyes on the Sadnesses. You’re fine. 

You hop to your feet to prove it and plaster a confident smirk on your face. “Not a scratch.”

“YEAH! That’s what I like to hear.” Isa pounds a fist into his palm. “Let’s pummel these guys!”

You agree and snap your fingers.

The familiar tingle of adrenaline fills your veins, pumping your heart faster and sharpening your senses. 

You attack. Isa’s a couple beats behind you, but he lands a devastating blow before the Sadness can, and that’s all that matters. One Sadness down. About…way too many to count to go.

You breathe in and out. 

Time to get to work. You introduce the business end of your knife to every enemy that approaches. Mira does likewise with her rapier while Isa boosts everyone’s defenses, and Odile executes scissors attacks when she can.

You’re close to a jackpot. You can feel the craft growing in the air with each consecutive spell. A breath held in anticipation.

Your dagger is gleaming. Somewhere above an invisible guillotine waits to fall on your enemies.

Just one more attack!

You cleave a Sadness in half, and the blade falls. Everyone leaps into action, the pent up piercing craft in the air guiding your collective energy into slicing every nearby Sadness to ribbons.

Satisfaction fills your chest as the monsters waver and melt into nothing. 

But the feeling is fleeting as more lightless monsters surge forward.

Mira squeaks and scrambles back. “Th-there’s too many!” 

“Their numbers are impressive, but we can handle it if we keep stacking skills,” Odile says, level-headed as always.

“M’dame’s right! We’ve got this, Mira.” Isa flashes the housemaiden a bright smile.

Mira offers a small, shaky one in return.

Quick! Make her laugh!

“We’ll win!” You insist. “Just remember to attack in an orberly fashion, Mira.” 

As always, Isa laughs first. “HAHA!”

“STOOOP!” Bonbon cries in outrage, stomping their booted feet. “Your jokes are bad!”

“That one was quite weak,” Odile observes off-handedly.

Nonetheless, Mira cracks. “Pft!”

You beam. Success!

“They’re doing their best in a stressful situation, Bonbon,” Isa points out as he guards against a rock attack. “Show some appreciation.”

“NEVER! I will never appreciate bad jokes!”

“You can make your own if you don’t like mine,” you suggest with a wink.

The kid looks appalled. “NOOOOO! ”

You, Isa, and Mira laugh.

Odile sighs. “Let’s focus, please, children. There are monsters to slay.”

“O-oh yes, Madame! Sorry!”

“Yes, M’dame.”

You poke out your tongue.

Slaying monsters is something you’ve all gotten quite good at. Still, fighting a horde this size is new, and you can understand Mira’s anxiety. You share some of it, even, but you do your best to not let it show. You have to be strong for them. And that means no freaking out. You don’t want to worry Bonbon.  

This journey may be rife with danger but you want the kid to feel safe. You need them to be safe. So you fight.

And Mira heals.

And Isa boosts everyone’s defense. 

And Odile slows the enemy when she can.

And you speed your party up when they start to tire.

None of you are used to fighting for this long without a breather.

But it’s fine. You’re managing. You’re thinning the horde, slowly but surely.

Until you’re not, that is. Until you realize that somehow—some way—Mira is no longer on your left, and Isa is missing from your right, and you can’t see Odile. Just Sadnesses, Sadnesses, Sadnesses!

You slash through the closest one, and it slashes back. Ow . 

The cut stings, but it’s shallow. No need for a tonic—yet.

But probably soon, you realize as you trade blow after blow with the sobbing monsters. If you’re getting this beat up with your natural speed, how is everyone else fairing?

You snap your fingers and another shot of adrenaline courses through your body, tingly and electrifying. Hopefully it helps. You never tested the range of that particular craft. What if you’re not in range? Then you just helped yourself and no one else. 

That’s selfish. You’re part of a team now! You can’t be selfish. Moreover, you don’t want to be. 

So you do your best to carve a path to your allies.

One more strike takes out the Paper-type enemy in front of you, and you rush through the small opening, darting your gaze over the monster-ridden battlefield for everyone else. It’s somewhat difficult since many monsters are quite tall and you are quite short even with your heeled boots, but you manage to catch a flash of Mira’s darkless dress. She’s farther than you’d like her to be. About five Sadness lengths, give or take. Isa’s easier to spot but no closer than Mira. He’s not with Mira either which turns your stomach. You were hoping you were the only one to have the misfortune of being corralled away from the group. 

You twist away from a Rock-type Sadness and strike. It hardly flinches. You can foresee this battle going very bad very quickly if you don’t regroup with everyone. Forget fighting for now. You’re going to run. You’re going to run and fight alongside Mira, then the two of you will make your way to Isa, and then the three of you will be able to clear the way to Odile since she’s the farthest and—wait. 

WHERE’S BONBON?! 

You swiftly weave between Sadnesses, ducking incoming blows with limited success but you don’t care. All that matters is Bonnie. You cast your frantic gaze around for a darkless hat, heart thudding hard in your chest. They’re small. They’re small. They’re so small! Maybe they’re hiding. That’d be smart. But Bonbon is always complaining about not being allowed to fight. You don’t think they’d hide.

But they could be hidden. Behind a Sadness. Behind one of the others. Please be behind one of the others! 

But you stand on your tip-toes and look, and Mira’s alone, and Isa’s alone, and Odile…there are too many monsters in the way to properly see, but she doesn’t look like she’s guarding anyone, so Bonnie can’t be with her. 

Oh Stars.

Your chest hurts.

You swivel on your heel, and that’s when you spot them. Back to the light-dark bricks of the House, newly acquired Orb hugged tightly to their chest as they stare fearfully up at the weeping Sadness looming over them.

The Sadness raises its hand, scissor sign at the ready, and Bonnie just stands there. Wide-eyed. Shaking. Frozen.

NO!

You break into a run.

You need to be there NOW. You need to get to them, you need to get to them, you need to get to them!

“BONNIE!”

Your scream draws their attention away from the Sadness—the Sadness that is already bringing its hand down even as you sprint like mad. The Sadness that Bonnie definitely won’t be able to dodge now because they’re looking at you.

Petrified.

And you’re too slow.

Move! You silently will the kid, too winded from your mad dash to speak.

But they don’t move. They only open their mouth. To cry. To scream. To shout for you. You don’t know. You can’t hear over the pounding of your heart in your ears. Can’t see anything but the Sadness’s attack falling falling falling closer and closer to Bonnie. They’re so little. It doesn’t matter they’re Rock type and Scissors is weak to Rock. It doesn’t matter because they’re so little and that hit will cleave them in two! They’ll die! Your kid’s about to die right in front of you!!!

NONONONONONONONONONONONONONO—!

You leap, arms outstretched to guard, to shield, to protect, to do something because you’re too far away and the attack is already landing—!

The Sadness strikes, and your face explodes.

A thousand needles pierce straight through your eye and into your brain and your hand flies to the agony, grasping for relief you cannot find. Something sticky and wet is seeping through your glove and you can smell copper and ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts!

You try to breathe, but you can’t draw in any air. You choke and cough and something hot pours down your face. It drips onto your top lip and into your mouth, and you taste metal. 

ITHURTSITHURTSITHURTS!

Sudden pressure on your shoulder causes you to start, and you think you might croak out a cry, but you aren’t sure. In any case, it brings you back to awareness enough to remember. 

The Sadness! 

Bonnie! 

You have to protect Bonnie!

Trembling, you gather a forearm underneath you and push yourself up—when did you get on the ground?—scrabble for your dagger and swing!  

The dark shape towering over you recoils with a warbling wail.

Distant screams echo it, bouncing off the walls of your skull and making the world spin even faster.

You can’t tell up from down, left from right—only pain. 

A faint voice calls your name, and you know you need to keep fighting, but you lost your grip on your dagger, and even if you had it, you can’t move. Your body won’t let you. All you can do is lay there, curled in on yourself as your heart beats harder and harder and your vision turns splotchy.

Nonononono!

You’re going to pass out!

But you can’t!!! If you do, then you’ll die, and Bonbon will die and THAT! CAN’T! HAPPEN!

COME ON!

MOVE!

YOU HAVe  to   move     but

you                  feel         

yourself

Sl 

     i

                   p

                              p

                                     i

                                                             n

                                                                      g

                                                                                             .

                                                                                                                              .

                                                                                                                                                                 .

Your body rocks—hard—as something shakes you, and OH STARS  yO U r   e Y e!

A pathetic, broken half-sound escapes your throat as you curl up tighter on the ground you don’t remember ever hitting. 

ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts!

“...IN! Get UP! ” A voice screams somewhere in the distance. It’s hard to hear over the ringing in your ears. Over the pain slicing into every nerve ending in the left side of your face and t e a r i n g .

You open your mouth to shout, to sob, to beg, maybe? but you can’t even draw a breath, nevermind form words. 

Half your face is gone. You’re sure of it as you feel hot blood and viscera gush down whatever’s left of your cheek. 

If anything’s left.

The thought makes you dizzier than you already are and something shoves your shoulder again. It’s enough to send your vision to lightless, but it doesn’t take you away. It can’t. Not yet. There’s something you need to do. Something important. But…

You don’t remember.

“GET UP!!!”

You can’t think.  

“FRIIIIIN!”

You can’t breathe. 

“Frin… puh–please. ”

YOU CAN’T BREATHE!

“AHHHH!”

A weight drops on top of you, and you can’t tell if you’re shaking or it’s shaking or you’re shaking together, but it distracts you enough to shift. Moving is important somehow. Throwing off this heavy, warm thing draped over your side is important!

But your head swims and swells like a balloon until you think it will pop off and float away—only it doesn’t get the chance because whatever is on top of you squeezes and anchors you to the ground.

There’s a mess of sound in the air. Screaming and sobbing and words. They’re difficult to catch over the thunder in your ears, over the agony pulsing through your face with every too-short, unfulfilling breath.

You don’t remember what it’s like to not feel pain anymore. Was there ever anything else to begin with? Or was existence always like this? Excruciating, unrelenting, inescapable? 

If so, you don’t want it. 

You don’t want it you don’t want it youdon’twantit!pleasestopmakeitstop!PLEASE!

Blood only seeps into your glove faster.

You do what you can to stem the flow—you’re already losing too much—but applying any sort of pressure makes you swoon, and you don’t want to pass out (again?) because what if you don’t wake up? So you hover your cupped hands over your screaming face and do your best to stay very still.

You’re not sure how well you do with the world running laps around you.

Probably bad, you decide, as a new shadow appears.

“SIF!”

And another.

“Siffrin! Oh, Change!”

“He-Help them, Belle!” A too young voice wails, breaking on the last syllable.

“I am! I am! Just—um! I need to see. Siffrin, can you move your hands?”

No.

It’s not a refusal. It’s not even a thought. It’s a fact. You can’t move your hands. They’re locked. Frozen over your eye.

“Siffrin?” Mira’s voice is shaking. “C-Can you hear me?” 

You can. It’s strange and warbling like you’re underwater, but you can hear. So you have to respond. Or else you’re a liar. You don’t want to be a liar!

But the pain steals your breath away and all you can force from your throat is a pathetic whimper. It seems to do the trick, though.

“Is…is that a yes?”

“Maybe?! Sif, buddy, can you move your hands for us?” 

No. 

You can’t move your hands. You physically can’t . And even if you could, you wouldn’t because you don’t want Mira to see. If she sees, then she’ll be able to tell you how bad it really is and…

You 

Don’t

Want

To

Know.

“Please, Siffrin?” Mira begs, soft and scared. See? She doesn’t want to see either! You can tell by the way her voice shakes. You’re helping! Protecting her. She doesn’t need to see the wound. It blinding hurts, but it’s fine. You’re fine. You’re fine! Your eye’s fine. Your face is fine.

As long as you keep it covered, it’s fine. Everything’s fine. 

Your hands are buzzing, like a swarm of bees has taken up residence under your skin. The sensation travels up your arms and to your nose and spreads outward across the rest of your face, but still, it doesn’t overpower the pain.

You wish it would.

A large hand grasps your shoulder, and you flinch. It retreats. “Sorry! Sorry! I’m sorry, Sif. I know it hurts. I know.”

He doesn’t. He can’t even imagine. 

“But Mira needs to see to help.”

A shaky hum of refusal scrapes out of your raw throat. Or maybe it’s another embarrassing whimper. You can’t really tell.

“M-MOVE YOUR CRABBING HANDS, FRIN!”

The weight on top of you lifts, and you only have a moment to think you miss it before sticky fingers grasp your wrists and p u l l.

NONONONONONONONONO!

“BONNIE!”

“Boniface! Release him. Now!”

Little hands fall away, and Bonnie sobs. “I’m trying to help, and they’re not coop-erating and—and—!” The rest of their sentence is lost in a wail that squeezes your head and heart in equal measure.

You feel sick.

And lightheaded

Even though your head is full.

“Breathe, buddy.”

you’ve forgotten how

“Just breathe. It’s okay. You’ll be okay. Just focus on breathing. Iiiiiinnnn…”

Someone sucks in an exaggerated breath.

You mirror it raggedly.

Innnn…

They release it in a great whoosh. “And out.”

And

Out.

You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut.

“Good! Again.”

They breathe, Isa breathes your frantic brain supplies, and you breathe with him.

Iiiiinnnn

Annnd

Ouuut

You still can’t get enough air.

You’re praised anyway. “That’s it! Keep breathing, Sif. We’re gonna help you, okay? Think you can drink a tonic?”

Your heart is in your throat. You’re not sure you can get anything down, but if it means you can keep your hands right where they are then…

“Mm-hmm.”  You shakily hum your consent, the sound sticking in your throat.

“Alright! I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” Isa informs you. “I won’t touch your face or your hands, just your shoulders and back.”

A tiny noise escapes you, and you hardly know what it means, but Isa takes it as permission, because you feel another large hand snake around to grasp your other shoulder. You flinch despite yourself. You know it’s Isa. He wouldn’t hurt you. He isn’t hurting you. His grip is gentle despite its firmness, and yet you long to squirm away.

“Okay, on three, we’re going to sit up.” Isa warns. ”One… two… three! Up!”

You try to help as much as you can, engaging your core and shifting your legs into a position more conducive to sitting so Isa doesn’t have to do all the work, but you’re not even halfway when vertigo strikes, and suddenly you’re bent double, forehead nearly brushing the grass as you retch.

Acid burns its way up and out, and your eye feels like it’s popping out of your skull oH StARsOHSTARSOH S T A R S! 

There are hands on your shoulders and back and more brushing against the side of your head and tugging at your hair and you’re hot. You’re so hot. The temperature has shot up from zero to a hundred, and you’re burning.  

You wrench yourself away from the hands, coughing and spitting the acrid taste of undigested food into the grass. It doesn’t help. It coats your tongue. Your teeth. 

You gag.

Your ears ring louder.

A hand rubs circles into your back. It burns.

You gasp, saliva or vomit or some combination of the two dripping from your chin. You don’t dare wipe it away, hand still clasped firmly over your left eye. Your other has instinctively fallen to the ground to brace yourself. 

“Sorry! Sorry, I shouldn’t have sat you up that fast…are you done? Or still feeling sick?”

Your stomach clenches, and for a second you’re convinced you’re going to hurl again, but there’s nothing left.

 “Nnn–no,” you rasp. Your voice sounds like it’s coming from the end of a tunnel.

“After that display, I doubt they’ll be able to stomach a tonic…” Odile observes.

You try anyway, desperate for relief.

As soon as the cloying sweetness washes over your tongue, you find yourself in the same position as before, tears running down your ruined face. Or maybe it’s blood. Or both.

Your eye throbs.

The earth presses hard against your back.

Someone’s hand is curled around your left wrist and begins to pull but your other hand shoots up to capture their wrist and squeeze. You don’t do it on purpose. But now that your hand is there, you find you can’t let go, even when Isa’s muffled voice asks you to. 

Your fist tightens. 

So does Isa’s.

You’re at an impasse.  

Until another hand joins the fighter’s and another and another, and you try to scream but there is no air to scream with, and through your squinted eye you can see Mira looking at you with horror, hands clasped over her mouth as she cries.

“Oh Change, oh Change, oh Change! I don’t—I-I can’t—I—I-It–!”

It’s bad it’s bad it’s bad it’s bad you know it’s bad if Mira’s freaking out like that!

you can’t breathe. your head goes fuzzy it feels like a spool of thread unr a v  e   l    i    n      g  

dying

you’re dying

stars

you’re dying and you’re scared andyouwishyouhadalifetoflashbeforeyoureyesbutit’s blankandit’sdark andyoudon’twantthis n o ple a s e     s o m e   o n e  

H        e              l     p 

When you drift back to awareness, a headache greets you. It’s not the best sensation to wake up to, but the ground is soft so you don’t mind. You snuggle into it a little more with a content sigh.

...Wait. 

The ground’s…soft?

The ground’s never soft.

You peel open your heavy eyes to see a wooden ceiling. 

…

…What?

Where…   

…are you?

The thought should be more alarming than it is, but you’re used to forgetting stuff. Besides, your brain always takes a little extra time to wake up.

Which is why you didn’t notice the scratchy cloth pressing against your cheek earlier. Or the fact that your left eye itches. 

You raise a heavy hand to scratch it, but don’t even make it halfway before a large hand envelopes yours.

“Sif!”

You start and whip your head around to see Isa. He’s blurry, and you have to turn your head more than you think you should to get him into your line of sight, but eventually he swims into focus enough for you to make out his hopeful expression.

“Are you awake?”

“...Ye-eah,” you croak. Stars. You sound terrible! And your mouth’s so dry. And your teeth feel fuzzy and disgusting. Bleh.

“Thank Change,” Isa exhales, deflating like a balloon. Huh. You didn’t notice how tense he was until his shoulders dropped.  “I was so worried!”

“As were we all.” You roll your heavy head to your right to see the researcher perched on an armchair by your bed, book in hand. She’s not reading it. She’s looking at you, a weary, barely-there smile on her face. “Good to see you awake, Siffrin.”

Wha…?

“How do you feel?” Isa wonders, drawing your gaze back to him. “Do you hurt anywhere?”

You consider his question, thoughts moving slow and cottony like clouds across the sky. Do you hurt? Your body feels heavy and uncoordinated, but that’s not hurt. That’s just you taking a while to wake up. There is a faint ache radiating through your head. It’s not bad enough to bother mentioning, though, so you don’t. 

“No.” The effort of speaking makes you cough, and you wince. Why is your throat so scratchy?! Are you sick? Is that why they’re both so worried? They shouldn’t be! At worst, you have a head cold. “I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure?” Isa presses. 

“Just thirsty,” you admit, and wow! It sounds like you swallowed gravel.

“Oh, yeah!” Isa grabs a glass of water from the side table so fast it makes you dizzy. “Here!”

You slowly lever yourself up and reach for the proffered glass.

You miss.

…

…YOU MISS!

Your stomach falls, and Isa’s face falls with it. “Ah, uh…” 

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! YOU JUST MADE ISA FEEL AWKWARD! FIX IT! FIX IT!

Before you have a chance to do anything the glass is being gently pressed into your open palm. “Sorry!”

Why is he apologizing? You’re the one that fumbled, not him. You should be apologizing. Apologize! “S-Sorry.” 

Before you can make this any more embarrassing for yourself, you hastily close your fingers around the glass and bring it to your lips. The water is lukewarm but it feels wonderful as it slides down your throat nonetheless.

You chug half before Isa grasps the bottom of the glass and stops you. “Whoa! Slow down a little, buddy. Smaller sips. Don’t want you making yourself sick.”

You lower the glass and stare at him, confused. “Isa…it’s just water.” 

“I know, but you can make yourself sick if you drink too much at once, especially if you haven’t had anything to eat or drink in a while, and you haven’t had anything in…”

Isa trails off, freezing and pressing his lips together like he'd said something wrong.

“In…?” you prompt.

Isa has his arms crossed and is clutching the fabric of his sleeves tightly as he looks off to the side, nervous. “Innnn…a while.”

Huh?

“Huh?”

“Twenty-four hours, give or take.” Odile speaks up and you whip your head around to look at her. The room spins, and your left eye pulses like it’s going to pop out of your skull, but you ignore it. There’s more pressing issues on your mind right now.  

“What?”

That can’t be right! You couldn’t have slept for an entire day! You dream about it sometimes, but you don’t actually do it.

“You’re confused, as expected. So let me ask this: what is the last thing you remember, Siffrin?”

What’s the last thing you remember? You? You, the person with the memory like that cheese that has holes in it? Haha! This is a prank, you’re sure. 

But Odile stares at you, and she looks so serious and…concerned that that can’t be it. 

So…

You think.

But it’s hard between the headache and the itch in your eye. It’s back. Or maybe it never left and your allies were just a really good distraction. Either way, it longs to be scratched, and you deliver.

You try to, anyway.

Isa stops you again, but he’s not fast enough to snatch your fingers away before they brush against fabric. “Don’t touch! Sorry!” He drops your wrist as if burned. “But you can’t touch it, okay? Does it hurt?”

You furrow your brow and feel the skin around your left eye pinch oddly. “No, why would it—”

A supernova, exploding in your face. 

You remember . 

The Sadness.

Bonnie.

yOuR EyE!

Your fingertips find the bandage resting against your cheekbone. It’s soft. Scratchy.

“Siffrin, are you alright?”

You nod. Your eye doesn’t hurt. It just itches. Because it’s healing. And that’s what healing wounds do. That’s all. That’s all! It’s okay. You’re okay. 

You give Odile a soft smile. “I’m fine. I remember now. Sorry I…” You drop your gaze to the light sheets across your lap. “...caused so much trouble.”

They had to bandage you up and watch over you for a full day because you can’t do your job correctly. Pathetic.

“What? No!” Isa exclaims. “You didn’t! This wasn’t your fault at all, Sif! It was an accident! We just wanna make sure you’re okay. And—well…” Isa rubs the back of his neck, hesitant to continue.

“And I am,” you insist. You’re tired—unbelievably so for having slept an entire day away—but you only have a little headache, and your wound is healing, and it can do that on the road so— “We can keep going. I’m sorry I held us up this long. I’ll just get something to eat, and we can—”

“No.” Odile’s tone sends a chill down your spine. “Siffrin, you’re not going anywhere.”

“What? But I feel—”

“Fine? Yes, only because you’ve been pumped full of painkillers and been given fluids, the benefits of which I suspect won’t last much longer. You’re hurt. You need to rest.”

“M’dame’s right,” Isa agrees. “You need to take it easy.”

You pull a face. “There’s no time. More and more places are being frozen. If we don’t hurry—”

“I understand your concern, but I don’t think you realize just how badly you were injured.”

“M’dame! Um! Maybe, we should, um, you know—wait?” Isa stammers, frazzled. It’s a new look on him, and it churns your stomach.

Something’s wrong.

“And waiting will benefit…whom?” Odile challenges.

Something’s VERY WRONG!

“N-no one, I guess. I just…um—” Isabeau snaps his head up suddenly to meet your eyes—or well, the one you suppose since the other is covered. “Sif, uh…don’t freak out, okay?” 

Great start! Totally not freaking out! Nope!

You keep a straight face.

“But the healers…they—couldn’t save it.”

Couldn’t save…what?

He must see the confusion on your face because he explains.

“Your eye.” He’s not looking at you anymore. “They couldn’t save your eye, Sif. I’m so sorry.”

Your eye...

It’s…

Gone?

Your hand hovers over the bandages in disbelief. It shakes, numb.

You feel cold all over. The familiar pinprick of tears burns the backs of your eyes. 

No. 

Just the one. 

You only have one.

You…

Don’t want to think about it.

You breathe in…and out.

There’s something more important anyway. “Is Bonnie okay?”

“Huh?” Isabeau seems taken aback at your question. “Wha—Bonnie? Yeah the-they’re fine, Sif, but—”

“And everyone else?”

“We—We’re all okay! No one else is hurt.”

Good. You brought this down on yourself anyway. You’d hate for it to have harmed your friends too.

“I’m glad.”

“Yeah…but are you good? Like, that was a lot! To just drop on you right when you wake up. Um, do you need anything or…?”

You shake your head and ignore how it makes you dizzy. You’re fine. “I’m fine.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind if we allow Boniface to visit?” Odile inquires, her tone suggesting it’s a threat. For all you know, it is, but you welcome the danger.

You smile. “Not at all!”

After a beat of hesitance, Isa moves across the room to poke his head out of the door. He barely gets two words out before the kid darts into the room, face scrunched up in anger directed solely towards you. 

“YOU’RE SO STUPID, FRIN!”

You nod because it’s true. You are stupid. 

“Um! Bonnie! Maybe don’t yell at them when they just woke up???” Mira suggests, hands clasped anxiously to her chest.

Bonbon ignores her suggestion and continues to yell. “WHO BLOCKS WITH THEIR FACE?!”

You do.

“DUMMY!”

Can’t argue with that.

“Boniface, if you continue to scream, you will be removed.”

Bonnie puffs out their cheeks and huffs as Isa closes the door. “He needs to know how dumb he is.”

“I think you got the point across quite well, Bonbon,” Isabeau assures jovially. “Faces are not shields.”

“Oh, thank Change you’re alright, Siffrin!” Mira exclaims, hurrying over to your bedside. With horror, you note the tears in her eyes. You made her upset! “I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more to help. My healing craft isn’t that advanced and—and—!”

“It’s okay, Mira,” you assure her. If the healers here—wherever “here” is—couldn’t save your eye, then Mira had no chance. You don’t think that would make Mira feel any better though so…joke time! You grin. “ Eye am all better now.”

Teary-eyed, Mira blinks at you. “Siffrin—was…was that a pun?”

You poke out your tongue cutely. “Maybe.~”

Isabeau guffaws. “HA!”

Odile sighs.

Bonbon…doesn’t even protest. You glance over—oh you really have to turn your head more than usual, haha! Don’t think about it, don’t think about it! —and see their face bunched up like they’re about to cry. 

Oh no!

“Bonnie.” They don’t look at you, but that’s okay. They don’t need to. You’re disgusting anyway. Putting them in danger like that. “Do you still have that Orb?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. It’s right here.” Bonnie pulls the shining darkless Orb out of their satchel and presents it for your appraisal. 

You smile. “Thank you for keeping it safe, Brave One.” Even though they shouldn’t have had to. Even though you should never have given it to them in the first place. But you did. Because you couldn’t stand the put-out look on their face when you went to stow it away in your pockets. And everyone else had one. So it wasn’t fair. And you wanted to be fair to Bonbon. They didn’t exactly choose to be on this journey with you, after all. They only were because they wanted to save their sister, and also because none of you could, in good conscience, leave them behind to be frozen in time when the King’s curse inevitably caught up to whatever town you may have left them in. So you let them hold onto the Orb. And a Sadness targeted them. And you…got what you deserved.

Bonnie fidgets, hugging the Orb to their chest and frowning in an uncharacteristic display of shyness. “I… well—YEAH! We went through all that hard work to get it, and it’s the last one so…’course I wasn’t gonna let a stupid Sadness have it.”

“You did good, Bonbon,” Isabeau praises, ruffling the kid’s hat. 

Bonnie ducks out from under his hand with a glare and rights their hat. “I know I did good. You don’t gotta tell me.”

Despite their confident words, they don’t preen like you expect them to. They just stand there, face downcast looking…sad.

Well, you can’t take the Orb away from them now! No—wait. That’s the kind of thinking that got you into this mess in the first place, stupid! You can take it away. But…you remember how their eyes sparkled when you handed the Orb to them for safekeeping. You remember how they super duper promised to protect it. You remember how upset they get when they feel useless. It wouldn’t hurt to let them keep it, would it? Sadnesses normally don’t go after it. You don’t get attacked any more than usual because you have an Orb, do you? 

... Do you?! You never actually tested it. You should test it. But first…

“Hey, Bonbon, make sure you keep an eye on that Orb for me, okay?”

It takes a moment to register, but you know when it does because Bonnie’s head snaps up, and they look at you. REALLY look at you, and you watch in horror as the tears you spent so hard trying to prevent well up in their eyes and overflow. 

Nonononono! That’s not what you were going for! You messed up, you messed up! AHHHH! Why do you ALWAYS say the wrong thing?!

The Orb falls from Bonnie’s arms and lands with a loud thud on the floor. “NO!” You’re not funny, Frin! I hate you!”

Bonnie runs out of the room before you can so much as open your mouth to apologize.

“Wait! Bonnie!” Isa pounds after the preteen, off to fix your mess. As usual. 

You shrink into yourself, reflexively reaching up to tug the brim of your hat down—but there’s nothing there. Ah. Well. Your fingers find a strand of hair to tug at instead. You pull till it hurts.

“I suggest we keep the eye jokes to a minimum for the time being,” Odile says.

“Because the wound’s still fresh?” you half-heartedly joke.

Odile levels you with a withering look. “Precisely.”

You expect at least a giggle out of Mira, but she doesn’t so much as smile as she walks over to retrieve the Orb. It looks fine. No cracks or scratches, but Mira dusts it off anyway. “Bonnie…didn’t mean that. They’re just upset.”

“I know,” you say. But they did mean it and for good reason. You deserve to be hated.

“You should get some more rest, Siffrin.” The researcher’s suggestion drops your heart to your toes. Your party likes you better when you’re unconscious, and the sad thing is, you can’t blame them. 

You’re disgusting.

Shamefully, you slither back under the covers and cocoon yourself in the blankets, curling up on your right side. The left is…out of the question.

Your heart skips a beat at first, when you realize this position puts you in the direct path of Odile’s ire, but she is quick to snap her book closed and get to her feet. 

She can’t stand to look at you. 

A creak and click signal her exit as the door swings shut. 

You’re alone. 

At least you think so—until the bed dips behind you.

Mira’s voice is hardly above a whisper when she speaks. “Siffrin…um, are you okay? Like…actually okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer without thinking. “Just tired.” 

It’s true, you realize as the words fall out of your mouth. The weariness that typically clings to you in the first moments of waking never really left, and now that you’re laying down it’s returned in full force, tugging you impatiently towards sleep. 

“Oh, okay…I just wanted to make sure because um…well, I love the Change Belief and all, but I get scared about it sometimes. Change, I mean? And this is a big one. And unexpected! And—and I just wanna make sure you’re good. Are…you good?”

Mira’s too sweet for the likes of you. 

“Miiiiraaaaaa!” you playfully whine.

“Y-yeah?”

You pout even though you know she can’t see. “I’m sleepy.”

“Oh! Right! Sorry! I’ll let you rest.”

The weight behind you lifts, and the urge to whirl around and snag Mira back floods in so suddenly you forget how to breathe. 

Her footsteps click quickly on the wooden boards, growing farther and farther as she nears the door. 

Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t lea-

She leaves.

And…

You…

Breathe.

It’s a shudder of air, but it’s a breath, and you suck in another to prove that you can. 

In. 

And out. 

See? You’re breathing. And breathing means you’re alive, so you’re fine.

You’re fine!

Haha, wow!~ You were almost just really pathetic weren’t you?! Stars, you can imagine it now: Mira flinching as you grab her wrist, begging her to stay. Her eyes blowing wide and accentuating the dark circles under them that YOU put there. Shame filling you like a waterfall filling a glass as you notice and backpedal. “Sorry! Nevermind!”

But she’s Mira. She’s nice. She’s helpful. So she smiles—one of the strained ones she uses when she’s uncomfortable that tightens her lips into a thin line—and sits back down. Says it isn’t a problem. But it is and YOU ARE!

You tug the sheet over your head and groan in mortification at what could have been. 

What is wrong with you?

You’ve been alone for as long as you can remember. It shouldn’t be scary. It isn’t ! You like being by yourself. 

…Don’t you?

You do! People are complicated, and you don’t know what to say half the time or how to make friends. They all seem to just forget about you, but maybe that’s your own fault. You travel so much. You’re always on the move, looking for something new, something exciting, something meaningful, even, maybe? 

You’ve never stuck with anyone this long, let alone a group! And it’s exhausting but also different, and you think you like it???

You like them. You like being around them, and the thought of not having them around anymore hurts. But they’re not gone. You know they’re not gone, stupid! They’re just elsewhere in the building, and you’re in a private infirmary room where you can rest because you got hurt, and it’s late—probably, you have no clue what time it is—and everyone’s tired. Yes, you normally share tents or beds but not this time because this bed is only big enough for one even though you’re a relatively small person. Bonnie could fit but Bonnie doesn’t even want to look at you right now!  

Your eyes burn, and you breathe in and out.

It’s begun to get stuffy under the sheet so you poke your head out and take another, fresher breath.

You sigh at the wash of cool air. Better.

Staring at the empty chair across from you makes you hyper aware of the lack of other people in the room. It feels too big for you, so you try to make it smaller by closing your eye.

It doesn’t really work, but you’re so exhausted that in a few minutes it doesn’t matter.

When you wake next, someone unfamiliar is in the room. A nurse. They smile and their voice is soft and gentle as they check your vitals and ask how you’re feeling.

Whatever remains of your left eye throbs, and your stomach feels like it’s trying to eat itself, but other than that you feel okay so you say you are.  

The nurse looks surprised. “No pain?”

“A little,” you admit with a sheepish shrug.

“On a scale of one to ten, with one being barely noticeable and ten being the worst pain you’ve ever felt, where would you rate your pain?”

“Uhhhh…” You think you felt the worst pain ever when that Sadness sliced your face open, and what you’re feeling now doesn’t even compare so—wait. What about the numbers in between? What makes a two different from a three? A six from a seven?

Your head hurts too much for this.

Just pick a number! Go!

“Three?”

The nurse nods, pulling a small bottle out of their apron pocket. “In that case, this should be more than enough, but if the pain gets worse and you need something stronger, don’t be afraid to ask.” 

They plink two tiny tablets into a ceramic dish on the bedside table as you work on sitting up. It’s easier than earlier you notice. Your body doesn’t feel fuzzy anymore. Just a tiny bit heavy with lingering sleep. You yawn, and the motion sends a twinge of pain through your bandaged eye.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Your stomach rumbles.

“Um, food?” you ask, heat crawling up your face. “Please?”

“Of course! I’ll get something for you right away, and I’ll let your friends know you’re awake while I’m at it.”

A smile stretches across your cheeks. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure!”

As the nurse leaves, you turn your attention to the bedside table. A half full water pitcher and empty glass sit there along with the medication. Might as well take it before your party gets here. 

You reach over to pour yourself some water. Liquid immediately splashes over the rim of the glass, and you hastily course correct so the rest ends up where it should. 

Seriously?! You can’t even pour a cup of water without spilling it everywhere?! Blinding useless.

You mop up the small puddle on the tabletop as best you can with your sleeve, cringing at the way the liquid drags the fabric down your wrist and makes your skin crawl. 

But it’s better than the alternative of leaving it there and having someone else clean up your mess. You’re being enough of an inconvenience as is, after all.

You really need to work on that. 

Hopefully, the pain medicine will help.

You pop the pills into your mouth and drain half the glass.

While you wait for the others, you take the opportunity to stretch out your legs—wow, they’re stiff!—and go to the bathroom which you didn’t realize was a need you had until you started moving around.  

You’re settling into a seat on the edge of the bed when two quick knocks rap at the door, and it swings open to reveal your party. 

“Sif!” Isa cheers.

“Isa!” you return just as jovially, noting the platters of food balanced carefully in his hands. You gasp. “Is that for me?~”

“Nope.” Bonnie shoves their way past Isabeau, their hands held high and bearing a plate of their own. 

They plop it in your lap with none of the usual fanfare.

It has one of those fancy half circle things on top of it so you can’t see what’s on the plate. Maybe that’s all the fanfare Bonnie is willing to give you considering the circumstances and you know what? You’ll take it! You’re surprised they’re feeding you at all. They only feed people they like, so you can’t be that hated. 

Warmth from the bottom of the dish seeps into your thighs, and you beam. “Thank you, Bonnie!”

“Hmph.”

They lift the cover off to reveal…

“Is…that mashed potatoes?”

“It is,” Bonnie confirms succinctly. “And you better eat all of it too.”

You stare at the mass of mush before you, trying to keep a grimace off your face. 

You HATE potatoes!

Bonnie knows that. They clearly did this on purpose, but you can’t just not eat it. They’ll be upset! And they’re already upset! YOU CAN’T UPSET THEM MORE!

“Aww, Bonbon, haven’t they suffered enough?” Isabeau playfully wails on your behalf. 

The kid doesn’t even take a second to think about it. “Nope.”

Ouch!

“I don’t even get one bite of your wonderful cooking?” you try, clapping your hands together in a desperate plea.

They scowl at the floor. “That is my wonderful cooking.”

AHHHHH!

“Of course it is!” you agree, forcing yourself to keep your composure and not cry because you’re a mature adult who can definitely eat food you don’t like. Definitely. “Thank you, Snack Leader! You’re the best!”

They stomp off with a huff, grabbing the second plate from Isa and plopping down at the room’s single table. It can only seat two, and Bonnie makes sure to sit so their back faces you. 

Well.

That doesn’t hurt your chest at all!

You breathe in and out.

The others quietly find their own seats, Odile opting to sit with Bonnie while Mira and Isa flank you on either side of the bed. 

“So! How are you feeling after your nap, Sif?” Isa asks, his voice like a cannon shot in the quiet room.

You only jump a little.

“Good!” Besides the fact that Bonnie hates you right now, and your eye is still itchy and stinging despite the pain meds. How long do those take to kick in anyway? Hopefully not much longer. “We can probably leave tomorrow.”

Mira’s face scrunches in doubt. “Ummm…”

“No.” Odile’s tone is flat. 

“The day after, then,” you say. It’ll be annoying, but you can’t inconvenience the group any longer than that. You can’t.

“Absolutely not. You just had an organ removed. The healers don’t want you traveling for at least six weeks. Preferably eight.”

WHAT?!

“What?! But that’s too long! The curse will catch up by then!”

“Undoubtedly,” Odile confirms. “Which is why we won’t be staying that long. It’ll be cutting it close, but the curse’s current rate of progression should give us at least a month.”

“I don’t need that long,” you maintain.

“You kinda do, buddy,” Isa says like he hates to break the news to you but is doing it anyway. “You’re not allowed to do any strenuous activity for two weeks, and that’s not really doable with our whole…saving the country schtick? Besides, there’s lots of icky germs out there. If you get an infection we won’t be able to treat it.”

“I’m not going to get an infection.”

“If only stubbornness scared bacteria away,” Odile muses wryly.

“It’s alright, Siffrin!” Mira pipes up. “We don’t mind waiting! And, um, we’ve all been going nonstop for a while, so the break will be kinda nice. Give us all a chance to breathe, you know?”

You try to match her smile but don’t think you quite manage it. 

“You know I saw a lot of board games earlier while I was exploring!” Isa mentions. “Maybe we can play some!”

“Ooh that sounds fun!” Mira exclaims, eyes sparkling.

As your allies discuss the intricacies of game night, you turn your gaze back to the mountain of goop on your plate. Picking up your fork, you swirl the tines through it, creating lines upon lines upon lines. Specks of pepper dot the darkless dish, making it look like an inverted galaxy. 

Huh. Neat!

You continue to drag your fork through the mashed potatoes, striking through your old orbits and creating new ones. The lightless “stars” shift. It reminds you of the Milky Way.

Wait. What is that? It sounds like some weird street name. Milky Way. A path named such because so many people sell milk along it? No, that’s not it. It has to do with the sky. The stars. The Universe…

You know what it is! Come on. You remember. You learned about it in school. It’s…the Milky Way.

It’s…

Your head pounds harder.

And harder.

And harder.

A nd harder.

“Are you gonna eat that?” The interruption erases all thoughts from your mind, leaving a pulsating pain in their place.

You do your best to ignore it as you slowly turn to the speaker, Isa, and blink. “What?”

He huffs out a laugh through his nose and points to the plate in your lap, smiling softly. “The food, Sif. Are you gonna eat it?”

“Oh.” Your gaze drifts to the mashed potatoes. Then to Bonnie’s back. Then to Isa. You feel your face flush in shame. You shake your aching head.

Isa nods. “Thought so. Here.” He angles his mostly untouched plate towards you. “You can have mine.”

You’re sure your visible eye is sparkling as it lands on Isa’s plate. It’s full of vegetables and what looks like some kind of cottage pie. “For real?”

“For real for real!” Isa confirms. “I don’t mind swapping. I like mashed potatoes.”

Ahhh he’s so nice!

You exchange plates and are just about to dig in when Isa stops you. “Ah, wait! I forgot.” Isa scrapes off the top layer of the cottage pie and you immediately realize why as soon as darkless goop slops off the meat. “There! No more evil potatoes.”

You gasp. “My hero!~” You swoon dramatically, back of hand to your forehead. 

“AH-wha–ahhh Siiiif!” Isa stammers, laughing. “It’s not that big a deal!”

“Oh, but it is!” You declare, raising your fork in the air pointedly. “You’ve saved me from the starchiest of deaths, Isa! I always knew you were my best spud !”

“HAHAHA!”

Isa’s booming laugh is contagious, and you can’t help but laugh with him, eyes scrunching shut in mirth—

AH!

You clutch the bandage over your left eye. It’s as close to the piercing pain as you can get.

“Sif?!”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you bite out, hand held firmly over your buzzing blinded eye. The pain’s dissipating but not as fast as you’d like. Ow…

“What happened?” Mira frets.

“I think…” You breathe in and out. “I moved my face too much.”

“Oh, Siffrin, be careful please.”

Mira’s so sweet. How dare you make her worry about you. She has enough on her plate already!

“Do you think you tore a stitch?” Isa asks.

“I don’t think so.” Are there stitches in your eye? Or eyelid since you apparently don’t have an eye anymore? You hope not. You can’t feel any. Or…maybe you can. What does that feel like? Is that why it hurts so much or—nonono stop thinking about it! UGH. Your head hurts.

“Best to have a nurse check to be safe,” Odile says. You hear the scrape of a chair and turn your head to find the researcher on her feet. “I’ll go find someone.”

“No! It’s okay,” you insist, dropping your hand from your injured eye. “It doesn’t hurt that much anymore.”

“Even so I would rather be safe than sorry.”

“But I haven't even eaten anything yet,” you whine, searching for sympathy.

Odile has none. “Then I suggest you start.”

You stare, open-mouthed in disbelief as she strides to the door and leaves. Betrayal!

Fortunately, you’re a fast eater.

“Don’t choke please,” Mira begs as you shovel bite after bite of scrumptious food into your mouth.

You just shoot the housemaiden a grin while you chew, hoping it will reassure her in place of words. You’re not good at them, and there’s no time to talk anyway. Not with Odile on a mission to get a healer to bother you.

Although as you continue to eat, you realize you might need to be bothered. The left side of your face is throbbing, and the headache from before has only gotten worse.

By the time Odile arrives with the nurse you’ve cleaned your plate, and are trying your best to not betray how badly your face hurts. You don’t think you succeed, but thankfully everyone else is distracted enjoying their own meals.

Except for the nurse, that is.

It’s a different one from the one that checked up on you earlier but no less kind as she peers under your bandage and assures you and your companions no stitches have been displaced.

“Does it still hurt?” the nurse asks as she rewraps your wound. 

“Not like it did.”

“But it’s still sore?”

You nod and immediately regret it, grimacing at the lance the motion drives through your skull.

“Were you given any pain medication yet?”

“Yes.”

“Is it helping?”

“...Not really?” you admit.

“Siffrin!” Mira gasps. “You should have said something!”

You hold up your hands to ward off her ire. “I-it wasn’t that bad up until now! I could ignore it better.”

“You shouldn’t have to ignore it at all!” Mira insists, brows pinching together in what you recognize as anger.

“That’s right.” the nurse agrees. “Being in pain isn’t going to help you heal faster. We have the resources, so please let us help keep you comfortable through your recovery.”

Thoroughly chided, you wilt and wish you had your cloak and hat to duck into. You settle for tucking your chin to your chest and avoiding eye contact. “Okay…sorry.”

“How long ago did you receive the pain medication?”

“Um…” Your head throbs which doesn’t make it any easier to think. “A little bit ago.”

“Half an hour?” the nurse suggests.

“Less. I had it before I ate.” 

“It may not have kicked in yet then,” the nurse says with a sympathetic smile. “We’ll give it another fifteen minutes, and if you’re still in pain I’ll give you another dose, alright?”

You smile wanly and agree. Fifteen minutes. You could last fifteen more minutes.

In that time, everyone finishes their meals, and Bonnie is quick to snatch all the empty dishes and scurry out of the room before anyone can stop them. Meanwhile, you elect to lay back down. The fists tenderizing your brain like meat are making you feel light-headed.

In short, it’s the longest fifteen minutes of your life, and you had just about convinced yourself that the King’s Curse froze the nurse that promised to be back because what was taking so blinding LONG when she reenters the room.

You don’t even have to confirm you’re still in pain. Your body language and Isa and Mira’s fretting says enough.

“This will make you tired, but it’s the good stuff,” the nurse says, holding up a syringe filled with liquid. 

“Good stuff!” Isa cheers.

“Good stuff!” Mira echoes with a giggle.

“Good stuff,” you breathe with a relieved smile, gladly offering your arm. The tiny prick to your inner elbow is nothing compared to the heartbeat in your head.

The nurse wasn’t kidding when she called it the good stuff, either. It starts working within seconds, siphoning the pain away and leaving you feeling loose and lazy. 

“Now, I recommend taking a nap—”

You like naps! 

“I like naps.”

Mira giggles. “We know you do, Siffrin.”

“If you need to get up for any reason, please have someone assist you so you don’t fall.”

“We’ll keep an eye on them,” Odile says.

Haha! Eye. Because you only have the one.

You should be more concerned about that. You were more concerned about that earlier, but you can’t fathom why now. It’s funny! You only have one eye! There’s so many good opportunities for puns! 

Like “I have my eye on you!” and…well. That’s the only one you can think of right now but you know there’s more. You’re just…so…sleeeeppyyy.

Oh! But you probably shouldn’t fall asleep because everyone’s still talking, and that would be rude. You’re kind of too tired to understand what they’re saying, though. You do your best to listen, but the exhaustion makes it difficult. So do your eyes. They keep wanting to close. You try not to let them, to just blink like normal, but somewhere between one blink and the next, you’re gone.

The following days involve a plethora of visits from healers and nurses alike multiple times a day. They check your vitals and ask how you’re feeling. Remembering how mad Mira got at you for downplaying it, you remain honest. But NOT dramatic! You don’t complain if your head feels like it’s splitting open or your empty eye socket pulses uncomfortably. You just say it hurts, and that’s enough to prompt the nurses to give you painkillers. (The strong ones because apparently no one trusts your assessment using the number pain scale anymore. Probably because you didn’t use it right, but in your defense, it doesn’t make any sense! Pain doesn’t translate to numbers.)

Sometimes they give you medicine anyway, but it’s not for pain. Something to keep infection away, you think? And another for nausea since the combination of pain and pain medication is twisting your guts into a mess. You always have a bucket by your bed now. Just in case. 

You feel bad for wasting food, but you’re pretty sure it’s not even Bonnie’s anymore which makes it a little better on some levels and worse on others. 

You haven’t seen Bonnie since that first day. They don’t visit like the others do, but you suspect you deserve it. Your carelessness is putting a stop to the entire mission. You’re risking their frozen sister by delaying everyone here. (Not to mention an entire country.)

When the bandages come off after four days, however, you’re glad Bonnie isn’t there. Your eyelid looks gross, all sewn shut and slightly swollen. Not to mention the Scissor-craft wound. It slices right over your eyelid, ugly and inflamed. It’s also stitched. You breathe in and out and lower the mirror. It’s fine. 

“Remember, healing takes time. It’ll look better and better each day, especially when the stitches come out,” the nurse assures you. “For now, I’ll just clean it for you and put some ointment on. Then we can cover it again.”

You nod.

As the nurse cleans your eye, Mira speaks up. “I-I think it looks kinda cool!”

You flick your eye to Mira in disbelief. She clutches her hands together even tighter and squeezes her eyes shut, flustered. “In like a…roguish mysterious way! It compliments your vibe!”

You have a vibe?

“Really?”

“Yes!”

The nurse chuckles. “It does add an air of mystique.”

“Doesn’t it?” Mira gushes. “It gives you, like, main character energy!

You huff out a laugh. Main character energy? “What even is that, Mira?”

“You know, like the main characters in a book? Or a play? That energy!”

You think you might get it a little, but-

The brush of a finger on your eyelid makes you flinch. “Sorry. Forgot to warn you the ointment might feel cold.”

“It’s okay.” The coolness is kind of nice. 

As the nurse finishes up, she gives you a darkless eyepatch that’s somehow even scratchier than the bandages were. Unfortunately there’s no medicine the healers can give you for that particular ailment, so you’re left to resist through sheer willpower alone. 

And an ice pack. Which the nurse gives you mostly to reduce the swelling of your eyelid but it has the added bonus of somewhat numbing the itch. You can’t keep it on for longer than fifteen minutes, though. Boo.

Before she leaves, the nurse goes through a spiel several other nurses have already made about how it can be difficult coming to terms with “big unexpected change” and reminds you there are people you can talk to about it if needed. As always, you politely decline. Talking to strangers about something life changing is weird. 

It’d make more sense to talk to your party about it, but you don’t need to. They already know what happened. They were there! They understand how frustrating and worrisome it is that your race against time has been ground to a halt. The healer’s timeline for your recovery isn’t helping matters either. It’s too long.

By the time a week passes, the most you’ve done is gone on a walk through the House, and you can’t even do that without bumping into things (and a person on one occasion! So embarrassing!) anywhere and everywhere. In another week, the healers will remove your stitches. You have to be ready to leave by then. 

Odile may have said your party can spare a month but you know that’s pushing it. You need to leave sooner. You will leave sooner. Which means you need to be ready.

A low-level Sadness could blow you over right now. It’s pathetic!

There’s no way you can fight the King, and they won’t bring you if you’re going to be a liability.

That’s why you lied about your pain level this morning. Doesn’t hurt at all! It’s why you told your party you were going on a walk through town—alone. The House is getting too stuffy. It’s why you’re here, dagger in hand, glaring at a tree roughly the same width as the average Sadness.

You breathe in and out. 

Start simple.

You rush the tree and stab. It lands. Not precisely where you thought it would, but it lands. 

Fine. 

Again.

You run through several basic maneuvers, then introduce the tree to Knife to Meet You and Two Cleaver by Half. The slashes your Piercing Craft leaves in the bark are nowhere close to where you were aiming. But it’s fine, right? You still hit it! That’s damage! It counts!

You run through both moves again, interspersed with plenty of regular attacks. You’re panting, and you can feel a strain in your good eye by the time you’ve shredded the tree, but you can’t stop. You’re not ready yet.

Anyone can beat up a tree. It doesn’t fight back. 

You need to find something that does. 

A twig snaps behind you, and you whirl around, dagger at the ready.

“Whoa!” Isa holds up his hands in the universal sign for peace. “It’s just me.”

“Isa!” You lower your dagger sheepishly. “Sorry! You scared me.”

He rubs the back of his head. “Ha. Yeah, I noticed. Sorry.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, you said you were gonna take a walk, and that was, like, two hours ago? I got worried.”

Yikes. You forgot to keep track of time! Stupid!

“Sorry.” You shrink into your cloak. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I know. It’s fine. Just…what are you up to all the way out here?”

“Training.”

“Training?" Isa repeats, surprised.

“Yup! Gotta keep my skills sharp,” you quip, flashing a scissors sign with your free hand and winking.

“Haha!” Isa laughs, but it isn’t as uproarious as usual. He’s still smiling, though, so mild success!? “Uh, Sif, buddy, was that a wink?”

Now it’s your turn to be confused. “Yes?”

“You know it’s kinda hard to tell with the eyepatch right?”

You pout. Why can’t he let you have this?

“But hey, it’s cool! I kinda figured what you were going for with the context clues anyway, so…” Isa trails off with an awkward chuckle. 

You smirk. “You wink I can still manage it with one eye?” 

Isa barely puffs out a laugh through his nose. Okay. You’re really bad at puns today, aren’t you? 

“Yeah, I, uh, wink you can,” Isa quips back.

“Booooooo. Reusing my pun,” You lament playfully, twirling your dagger in hand and sticking out your tongue. 

“Look, Sif—”

“Better!” You laugh. “Could use some work. Though eye see what you were going for.”

“What? No. I didn’t mean…” Isa shakes his head, and all traces of his previous smile disappear. Shoot! You’re blinding it! “Are you…really not bothered by it? 

You blink. “Bothered by what?”

“Your—” Isa rubs his arm idly, gaze trailing off to the side. “—eye.”

Not if you don’t think about it!

You shrug. “Not really. It’s not like I lost both.”

Nevermind your depth perception is trash. Nevermind your eye feels tired after reading a single line of text. Nevermind you tried to carve something the other day and ended up slicing your thumb so deep Mira had to waste craft on you to heal it. Nevermind nevermind nevermind!

“That’s…true.” Isa grimaces. “But it’s still a lot, isn’t it? Like A LOT a lot. Especially on top of the whole journey to save the entire country thing, and I totally understand if you’re not okay—”

“I am okay, though.” You smile to prove it. Softly. Don’t move your face muscles too much or it will hurt. 

“Are you?” Isa’s gaze pins you like a boulder to the earth. Stars, it makes you feel like an ant about to be stepped on. 

You avert your eye, darting it over the dirt for the right response. Is there one? Your mind is blank. Isa’s eyes are piercing straight through your hat and into your skull. You’re taking too long. Say something! “Do you…not want me to be?”

“No! Change, no, Sif! I want you to be okay. We all do! It’s just…I can’t tell if you really are. You make so many jokes about it, and I know you’re our funnyjokespun person, so it’s kind of expected, but you don’t have to act like it doesn’t bother you if it really does. We understand. We won’t judge you for not being your usual self. You know that, right?”

You nod. You know they won't judge you where you can hear. And even if they did, you wouldn’t blame them. People judge. It’s in their nature. They can’t help it.

“Good!” Isa smiles, and you peek out from under the brim of your hat at the return of the sun. “Then I’m gonna ask again, and please be super duper honest. Are you okay, Sif?”

You stretch your face into a smile that you hope matches his, doing your best to ignore the spike it drives into your dead eye. “Yeah, Isa. I’m fine.”

“‘Course you are! That’s why you’re beating up a tree, right? I get it,” Isa exclaims cheerily, hands on hips.

“You…do?”

“Not even a little bit!” Isa’s puffed up stance quickly deflates into something softer. “But I do understand that fee fees can be hard, so I’m not going to force you to talk about anything.”  

The tension in your shoulders eases the tiniest bit.

“But!”

Oop! Back up to your ears they go!

“I’m not going to let you continue going against healer’s orders. No more strenuous physical activity for you for at least another week!”

“Isn’t that just a general suggestion, though? I feel fine.” Minus the growing headache and the strain in your good eye.

“...You’re squinting.”

You force your aching eye to widen. “No, I’m not.”

“Buddy, ignoring what your body is telling you isn’t going to help you heal any faster. You’ll only hurt yourself worse.”

And then you’ll be completely useless. Yeah, you hear what he’s saying loud and clear.

You duck your chin into your cloak. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay! Just wait another week, and then we can train all you want! I’ll even spar with you. I’m a much better partner than a tree. Promise!”

You know he is, but… “It’ll be too late by then.”

“Too late?” Isa’s jovial tone drops. “What do you mean?”

Crab! Did you say that out loud?

Abort! Abort!

“N-Nothing! Nevermind.”

“No, what do you mean, Sif?” Isa presses. He’s not unkind about it—never Isa, he’s so kind—but the weight hurts your chest nonetheless.

Because you can’t say it. Saying it makes it real, and you don’t want it to be.

Isa is waiting expectantly. You have to say something. 

You open your mouth. 

Close it. 

He’s still waiting. Patient. Kind. Even though you don’t deserve it for grinding the entire mission to a halt.

You take a breath in and out.

Blind it all! 

It’s true whether you say it, or not so just say it!

You speak to the dirt. “T-the curse. It could catch up while I’m recovering. I know Odile said we have time, but she doesn’t know that for sure. The curse could freeze everyone here tomorrow."

“Well, I guess, but that’s very unlikely.”

“But it could happen,” you insist, and Isa doesn’t argue, because he knows you’re right. “So I have to be ready to move as soon as possible.”

“Okay, yeah. I can understand that,” Isa acquiesces. “But, Sif, you can’t help anyone if you’re not in good shape yourself.”

“I can’t help anyone now ,” you snap your gaze up to meet his, face flaming with shame. You fling out your arms to either side, putting all your patheticness on display so Isa can’t possibly deny it. “I’m useless like this!”

“No, Sif. You’re not.”

You are. He’s just too nice to admit it. You drop your arms to your sides. “Isa, I can barely navigate a room without bumping into anything. I can’t pour liquid into a cup without spilling it. Heck, I can barely slice up a stars-forsaken tree ! There is no way I can fight or detect traps like this! I’m more of a hindrance than a help at this point, and you don’t need that on a journey to save an entire blinding country!” 

The backs of your eyes are burning. Or just the one. That’s weird.

It makes everything worse. Can’t even cry right anymore, can you?!

Not that you’re crying. You refuse to let a single tear escape for something so stupid. It would only make Isa feel bad about leaving you behind, and that’s not your goal. He has every right to do that. He should, in fact! They all should if they’re smart, and you know they are. So they’ll leave you, and you’ll be alone again.

You’re used to that… so why does the thought hurt so much?

“Sif…” Leaf-litter crunches as Isa draws closer. You hide under your hat, but you can see his boots and the bottom of his striped pants as he stops in front of you. “Sifarooni. You’re not something to be used and tossed away. You’re a person.”

Are you? You don’t feel like one most of the time. Don’t people have memories of their past? Childhoods they can recall? Interests that aren’t dictated by how well they help you forget you exist? Personalities that aren’t molded around other people’s?

“More than that, you’re my pal! My very best bud! You’re part of our little team no matter what.”

“You don’t mean that,” you mumble.

“‘Course I do! Why would I say it if I didn’t mean it?” Isa wonders.

Because you’re upset, and Isa doesn’t like seeing people upset.

You shrug.

“Sif, you’re coming with us. We’re not going to leave you behind to freeze in time. I super duper promise to the nth power.”

You don’t know what the nth power is, but it sounds important. Serious. Is Isa serious about this? He’s not pulling your leg? Stars, you hope not, but you have to make sure. “...Even if I’m deadweight?”

“You’re not. But if you were, then yup! Even then. You could be the deadest deadweight to ever exist, and we’d still take you with us.”

You try to imagine what that would be like—to be the deadest deadweight in the universe. You’d have to not be able to fight. Or walk. Or feed yourself. Or do anything. You’d have to effectively be a statue. Frozen solid.

“So…hypothetically, if I was frozen in time, you’d still take me with you?”

“Yup!” Isa confirms without even giving it a moment of thought. “I’d toss you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and march to the King!”

A wet, relieved laugh escapes you. Emerging from the safety of your hat and cloak, you stick out your tongue and make a face. “Ew. Potatoes.”

Isa laughs uproariously, and you giggle. 

“Can’t I be like…a sack of flour instead?”

“Nah, too soft.”

“Too soft? What do you mean ‘too soft?’”

“To throw at the King!”

You laugh. “What?”

“You don’t think you still wouldn’t help us, right? I’d haul you all the way there and throw you at the King’s stupid face and be like, “LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO MY FRIEND! AHHHH!” And it would hurt him. A lot! So yeah, if I’m gonna toss you at his face, it’s gotta be something hard. Maybe you can be like a sack of rocks!”

You smirk. “Fitting for a Rock Craft user like you to carry.” 

“Very!” Isa agrees heartily. “So how about it? Still want to join us on our quest to save the country if I liken you to rocks?”

You chuckle. “Yeah. I’d be honored.”

“Good! Because you’re stuck with us,” Isa declares, hands planted confidently on his hips. “You don’t actually have a choice.”

You can’t stop grinning. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Come on, let’s head back,” Isa says, and you agree with an emphatic nod. 

Your eye really burns now, but not in any entirely bad way.

After some food, a couple painkillers, and a desperately needed nap, you’re feeling refreshed. You’re still useless and antsy, but you feel less bothered by it than before—especially once you notice Isa is still in your room. 

He escorted you here earlier, but you’d expected him to leave when you fell asleep. You’re overjoyed that he stayed and even happier when he suggests the two of you play a game. He wants to spend time with you.

YOU!!!! 

That must mean he really does think of you as a friend and wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better earlier! 

Yay! To be honest, you’ve been worried for months that you’ve been doing the whole making friends thing wrong. But if Isa is willing to say out loud that you’re friends then all the nicknames and jokes and general helpfulness must have paid off!

The two of you head to Bonnie and Mira’s shared quarters to peruse the board games the House had lent the Saviors of Vaugarde. (You kind of hate that people refer to your party that way. You haven’t ‘saved’ anything yet. Then again, Vaugarde’s weird. You suppose you should expect it at this point, but you hate the eyes on you. No doubt your blunder will be in all the papers if any are still circulating. It’ll be in the town gossip for sure.)

Mira, Bonnie, and Odile are all there when you arrive. Odile and Bonnie are focused on several papers at the room’s only table while Mira is scrunched up in a plush-looking circular chair, nose in a book.

“Hi hi everyone!” Isa greets as he waltzes into the room. “Don’t mind us. We’re just here for some board games.”

Bonnie gasps, head shooting up from where they’re bent over their paper. “No way! You’re not taking any of them!”

“But you aren’t using any right now,” you point out, immediately withering under the glare Bonnie shoots you.

They cross their arms over their chest. “Doesn’t matter! You can’t have ‘em.”

“Aww. But sharing’s caring Bonbon,” Isa cajoles. 

“Yes, don’t be selfish, Boniface,” Odile adds. “We’re in the middle of studying anyhow.”

“Yeah, and it’s crabbing boring!” Bonnie shoots back. “I want to do something fun.” 

“You could play a game with us,” you suggest hopefully.

Bonnie and Odile both level you with a look .

Oop! You think you actually understand where that term ‘glaring daggers’ comes from now! Scary!

“A game sounds fun,” Mira speaks up. “I’m kind of bored of reading anyway.”

Mira? Bored of reading? That’s new! Then again, you’ve been stuck here for a while so maybe it’s not such a surprise…

Isa claps his hands together. “Great! Mira’s bored. Bonbon’s bored. I’m bored. Sif’s bored. M’daaaaame? Are you bored?”

Odile heaves a sigh, shutting a heavy-looking book on the table with a thump. “I suppose I can be.”

“Yay!”

“I get to pick!” Bonnie declares, hopping out of their chair and rushing to the stack of board games in the corner of the room.

Choosing a game is a lengthy and complicated process in which Bonnie thoroughly examines all their options and shoots down any suggestions you make. In the end, they decide on checkers.

“Only two people can play that at a time, though,” Mira points out gently.

Bonnie turns to Mira, all but shoving the box into her hands. “Then you play with me.”

It’s very clear Bonnie doesn’t want to play with you.

Mira’s gaze flicks anxiously over the rest of you, torn. “Um…”

“How about Team Checkers!” Isa suggests.

“That’s not a thing.” Bonnie frowns.

“Sure it is!”

Bonnie scowls at the ground, debating whether it really is a thing or something Isa made up. You’re not sure what they believe in the end, but they cave regardless. “Fine, but Belle’s on my team.” 

With that, the checkerboard is set up on the table, and teams are formed. Isa and you on one with Mira, Bonnie, and Odile on the other. It’s just like regular checkers except each person takes turns making moves for their team. You…don’t actually know how to play checkers. You watch what everyone else does, and after a few turns you think you understand. You just move your pieces forward one square and jump over the other team’s to capture them. Simple! 

Except it’s not because Bonnie accuses you of not playing right at some point, so maybe you’re cheating. Just a little. But then Bonnie starts cheating too, and then you keep cheating because why not? (It’s better than admitting you don’t know how to play a simple kid’s game and embarrassing yourself!) And you’re the better cheater anyway because you and Isa win. Yay!

A thrill goes through you as the two of you bump fists. Like friends! Because you’re friends: confirmed!

Bonnie, of course, won’t stand for defeat and demands a rematch. Cockily confident, you and Isa accept, and the entire game dissolves into chaos from there, becoming a challenge of who can snatch the others’ pieces the fastest. It’s a good exercise in depth perception which means you lose, of course. But Bonnie is triumphant and beaming proudly with their fistfuls of playing pieces held high so you can’t be mad. 

Odile, on the other hand, is very much over all of your shenanigans and suggests a different game. Chess.

It’s not one you or Bonnie know how to play (you only admit it after Bonnie does), so Odile takes on the role of teacher, lining up a small army of different shaped playing pieces on the checkerboard you just used. You’re lost as soon as pieces start being able to go in any direction other than forward. 

When Odile finishes her explanation, you can’t help but stare blankly at the gameboard. Haha! You are not going to be helpful to Isa at all in this game! But that’s okay. You can just cheat, right?

Bonnie grabs the tallest lightless piece. “You said this is the king?”

“ A king, yes,” Odile confirms.

“Cool. Let’s kick his butt!” Bonnie plops the king piece in the middle of the board with a loud clack! and grabs the second biggest lightless piece. They place it to face the king. “Belle’s the queen ‘cause she slays.”

“Hehe! Aww thanks, Bonnie!” Mira coos. 

“What piece am I?” Isa wonders.

“Mmmm…this one!” Bonnie decides. They place one of the darkless pieces next to Mira’s queen.

“Ooh! A rook! Cool! I have the power to move horizontally and vertically!” Isa boasts.

“You have the power to beat things up with your fists,” Bonnie corrects, deadpan. “And Rock Craft.”

“I can punch horizontally and vertically!” Isa cheers, pumping a fist in the air.

“But not diagonally.” Odile smirks.

“Oh no!” Isa wails. “I’m weak to diagonals.”

Bonnie eyes them both, nose scrunched up cutely. “You guys are weird.”

Mira giggles. 

You would too except you don’t really get it, so you just smile.

Bonnie turns back to the board. They snatch a slender darkless piece, with a slit cut out of its rounded top. “This is Dile.”

Odile exchanges a knowing glance with Isabeau. “I can attack diagonally. Lucky me.”

“HA!”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Bonnie rolls their eyes, hand hovering over the board. “What piece is the lamest?”

Oh no. You think you know where this is going…

“If by ‘lame’ you mean the piece that is the most limited in terms of moveset and worth the least amount of points, then that would be the pawn.” Odile lifts one of the small, rounded pieces off the board.

“Kay!” Without skipping a beat, Bonnie snatches one of the darkless pieces that match the one in Odile’s hand and plops it onto the board alongside the others. “That’s Frin.”

Ouch! But not unexpected.

Also, if Bonnie’s assigning roles based on the piece’s abilities…

“Um, wouldn’t you also be a pawn by that logic then?”

Bonnie’s attention snaps to you, and they are not pleased. Ah. You really should keep your mouth shut! 

Even Mira is looking at you in surprise like you said something out of line.

“No. I’m a horsie.”

So saying, Bonnie grabs one of the lightless pieces shaped like a horse from the neck up and slaps it down by the others. 

“That is a knight,” Odile says.

Bonnie grins, a smug look pushing up their cheeks. “Neigh.”

“Uh huh.” Odile nods as if that makes complete sense and stands with a sigh and a creak of the knees. “I see chess is too sophisticated a game for this group. I’m going to go get a drink. Enjoy…whatever this is, children.”

“Awww! Noooo! M’dame!” Isa laments, swiping out a hand to grasp her sleeve as she passes and missing by a long shot. “Don’t let us drive you to drink!”

“Too late. I’m already wasted. Go on without me.”

You laugh along with Mira and Isa as Bonnie clacks the game pieces together.

“Bring us some adult juice back?” you request. You don’t know why you say it. You don’t even really like the taste of alcohol that much.

Odile tilts her head as she places a hand on the doorknob, considering. “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll play a real chess match with you later if you dooooo!” Isa sing-songs. 

“Hm. Good luck prying those playing pieces from Boniface.” With that, she leaves the room, and you all turn back to the checker (chess?) board turned playmat by Bonnie.

They’re banging all the pieces that they’d declared as your party earlier against the king piece, making whooshes and explosions and other sounds of action as they do.

You notice they aren’t touching your piece. So you pick it up and tap it against the king piece. 

“No!” Bonnie snatches the piece from you and lays it back down on the board. “You’re KO’d!”  

“Oh. …Can I get a crafted water?”

“Does Horsie look like they can give you a crafted water right now?” Bonnie asks, eyeing you like they can’t believe you had the gall to ask. 

You glance at the horse piece Bonnie is currently stomping on the king’s crown. 

“I guess not,” you say slowly.

“Yeah. Exactly,” Bonnie sasses. “Wait your turn.”

You wait.

Isa grabs his piece and waltzes it over to yours. “Here, Sif! I’ll give you a crafted water.”

Bonnie is quick to squash his plan. “You don’t have any, Za.”

“Does Madame?” Mira asks hopefully.

“No.”

Mira’s shoulders deflate. “I’m guessing I don’t either, huh?”

“Nope.” 

Horsie is really doing a number on the king…

“Wow, we really gotta divvy up our supplies better,” Isa observes.

“AH!” Bonnie cries. “He’s doing a super power move!” The kid sends all the pieces flying through the air, supposedly knocked back by a huge blast. Except for yours. Yours stays exactly where it is. 

“Heal, Belle, Heal!”

“Ah! Um! Here!” Mira scrambles to pick up her piece from where it’d fallen on the board and taps it to Bonnie’s. “Super Sparkle Heal!”

Isa scoops his and Odile’s pieces up from the floor. 

While he’s figuring out from Bonnie if his piece and Odile’s piece are KO’d or not, you scan the board and get an idea.

Grinning, you grab a second darkless pawn and send it plummeting down from the sky onto the King’s head. “ Knife to Meet You!”

“Hey! You’re still KO’d!” Bonnie objects just as you knew they would. Luckily, you have a plan.

“But look at all the pieces I have!” You gesture proudly to the multiple darkless pawns on the board. 

“That doesn’t count.” Bonnie frowns.

“Sure it does.”

“Whoa! A whole Sif army?!” Isa exclaims.

“NO!” Bonnie protests. “NO FRIN ARMY!” 

“Too late! They’re already charging! You can’t stop them!” You direct all the darkless pawns to rush the king, some accidentally on purpose brushing the other party’s pieces. “Oop! Sorry, Mira. Sorry, Horsie. Sorry, Mira, again. Oh my stars, there’s so many of me!~”

Bonnie huffs. “You’re stupid.” 

Maybe but…you want to make them smile. And you’re close. You can feel it.

You let out a dramatic gasp. “Wait! There’s a late Siffrin!” You drop the other pieces on the board and keep one in your left hand, flinging out your fist so it’s behind Bonnie. “He was taking a nap. You march the pawn past the kid, purposely making the piece tickle the crook of their neck. 

They giggle. “Hehehe! Hey!”

“Excuse me, Bonnie. You’re so big. Oh, Change, was I shrunk?! When did that happen?~”

“Tiny Siffrin army?!” Mira exclaims with delight.

“So cute!” Isa beams. 

“Noooo! Not cute! Get off me!” Bonnie swats you away, trying and failing to keep their grumpy face on. You gather up your other pieces to march them up the kid’s arm. Tap the top of their hat. Boop the tip of their nose. Wiggle the pieces into their sides and any other ticklish spots you know of to make them laugh.

It works! They’re laughing and giggling, and not just at the tickles but your antics as you make a Siffrin pawn dive off their head and divebomb the king. It topples, and you stand your previously KO’d Siffrin pawn on top of it triumphantly, trilling a little victory song as Bonnie gallops their own piece over to yours. Mira and Isa add theirs and Odile’s to the victory pile. All your little pieces jump in joy. Or hit the king. It’s kind of unclear.  

But you did it! Finally you did something good! Bonnie is smiling! Around you! Because of you! They’re playing with you like they usually do! Which means you’re not ha—

“STOP!” Bonnie drops their piece abruptly and pushes away from the table, making everything shake. Their face is angry angry angry! “That’s not how you play! You’re ruining it, Frin! You ruin everything!”

“Bon—”

Bonnie doesn’t let Mira finish. Lightening quick, they snatch all the party’s pieces and run off, slamming the door behind them. You flinch.

What just happened? You were having fun. They were having fun. What did you do? How did you blind it this time? Why do you always blind it?!

You backtrack as well as you can in your head, searching for the moment you went wrong. Was it being silly? Tickling them? Toppling the king piece? Did they want to do it? Stars. They probably wanted to do it! Clearly they were the hero in their little play. The hero always got to deal the final blow. You were a support character. You were supposed to stay down. Not take over. Stupid stupid stupid! 

You slump down in your seat and breathe in and out as Isa and Mira debate whether they should go after Bonnie now or give them space. You kind of wish you’d gone along with Odile earlier. Hopefully she brings back something to drink…

Despite Isa’s rousing reassurance, you’re still afraid of your party leaving you behind. Push hasn’t come to shove, yet. The curse hasn’t reached the town you’re taking a break in. There haven’t been any Sadnesses at the borders the resident Defenders haven’t been able to vanquish. So until that moment comes, you can’t be sure.

But you try to believe Isa anyway. He called you his friend! You’ve never had friends before! Not that you can remember, anyway. (Hopefully you never had a friend before, or else you’re an awful friend for forgetting them!) 

The others haven’t confirmed as much, but you think they’re your friends too. They hang out with you when they can just as easily do other things to keep themselves busy while they wait for you to recover enough to leave. Although, helping you practice depth perception exercises is directly related to you being able to leave, so maybe that doesn’t count. Odile is just trying to get you better faster. But that still means she would rather leave with you than without you, right? Otherwise, why bother? 

Mira learns how to apply the ointment to your eye from one of the nurses, and then completely takes over the task from there. You tell her she doesn’t have to. It’s kind of gross, and it’s taking up her time when she could be doing other things. Besides, you don’t like making her look at your injury. You can barely look at it. But Mira is as sweet as the fruit she’s named after and insists that she wants to. Unless you don’t want her to. Which you then have to assure her you don’t mind at all! Really! She seems reassured by that and from then on, she applies ointment to your dead eye twice a day, usually chatting about the latest happenings in the book she’s reading to distract you. 

It’s nice! But it’s also probably just so you can leave faster? And maybe also because Mira is blaming herself for not being able to save your eye—as if that could ever be her fault—so she’s doing all she can to make up for it.

This includes taking you to a play, apparently??? It has nothing to do with your missing eye or saving the country, and you’re kind of mortified to be in public, but you stick close to Mira, and the play is phenomenal! You don’t think you’ve laughed so hard in a while! The two of you gush about the show for hours afterwards, and you even reenact your favorite parts for Isa.

Bonnie cooks for you—well, really, they cook for everyone , but they don’t give you only potatoes anymore. Actually, they seem to be on a carrot kick lately for some reason??? The root vegetable is included in nearly every meal somehow—even the dessert. You don’t mind. You like carrot cake! 

They’re still very huffy and call you stupid more often than not, but they are willing to exist in the same room as you now so hopefully that means they don’t hate you too much? They are very adamant about beating you in every game the five of you play, however, going so far as to refuse to ever be on your team on the grounds that they can’t beat you that way. That’s fine by you. You understand their anger at being stuck and not on their way to save their sister. You even let them beat you on purpose—that is until they notice you aren’t really trying and have a fit over it, claiming it doesn’t feel good if it isn’t real. You get that. So you put in some effort. It’s the least you can do.

You’re surprised, but no less delighted, when Isa and Odile take you out to a tavern one night for a few drinks and several games of darts. It’s a challenge with monocular vision, and you never manage to win a game (that’s all Odile), but you do beat Isa by one point eventually. Isa celebrates like it’s a true victory, and it’d be rude to not match his energy so you do, screams and all. And yeah, maybe you do feel a spark of pride at hitting the dartboard for an entire match and not the wall so…victory!

As promised, Isa spars with you as soon as the healers give you the all clear. It’s embarrassing how bad you are at both offense and defense, but Isa is an endless well of encouragement and makes you laugh even when you fail. The others participate in the daily spars as well, either by cheering you on from the sidelines or sharpening their own skills alongside yours. Even Bonnie gets in on the action, cackling and really leaning into their role of faux Sadness as they run around you with a giant stick and try to whack you with it. They get you more times than you’d like to admit, but their laughter makes it worth it. 

You and your allies settle into a routine of sorts after a while, combat training in the morning, free time to do whatever in the afternoon, and games in the evening. No one suggests you play chess again. Not after last time. Thankfully, there are plenty of other board games to keep you entertained and cards are always a classic go-to. After whatever game has been played (and sometimes replayed) you all disperse to your own quarters. 

It’s easier to sleep the second week. You’re in less pain, and the nurses check on you less often. Once or twice a day now instead of several. You don’t need the strong painkillers anymore, just the regular ones.

It’s the morning of the third week of your recovery, and Mira is just finishing up taking care of your eye when Isa raps his knuckles on the doorframe. 

“Morning, Sif! Morning, Mira!”

You smile. “Morning.”

“Oh, Good morning, Isabeau!” Mira greets. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a log! You?”

“Hehe good!”

“Sif?” Isa turns to you expectantly.

Oh! Your turn.

“Ten out of ten!” You inform him.

Mira gasps and claps her hands together. “A perfect score!”

“Ooh that’s rare!” Isa observes. “Good for you, buddy!”

You nod, and Mira gestures for you to keep still. Oops! You become a statue.

“We’re almost ready,” you tell him as Mira dabs the last bit of ointment on your eyelid, and you do your best not to flinch. (You fail.)   

“Huh? Ready? OH! For sparring. Yeah, good!” Isa says. “But there’s no rush! Take your time. That’s—not why I’m here, actually. I…have something for you, Sif.”

“Oh?” you perk up. What could it be? Food? No, that’s stupid you just ate breakfast. But you do like food…

“A surprise?” Mira wonders, eyes sparkling with intrigue as Isa approaches. You notice he’s keeping one hand behind his back. “Oh! Oh! Is this part of the Secret Quest thing you told me about the other day?”

“Maybe~” Isa sing-songs with a grin that says it absolutely is. 

You had no idea he was on a Secret Quest! Since when? Why does no one tell you things? Scratch that. You know why. Your memory is crab! Teehee!~

Mira bounces in her seat, making you bounce as well. “Ahh! I’m excited!”

The corners of your lips tug upward, her giddiness infecting you as well. If Mira’s excited then it has to be something good, right?

Isa pulls his hand out from behind his back to reveal…a box.

It’s small. Plain. Lightless. 

He holds it out to you. “Here! I made you something.”

“A box?~” you tease, taking it into your gloved hands. “You shouldn’t have.”

“But I did! And I put something in it too!” Isa boasts. 

“Fancy!” You place the box on your lap and lift off the top. Inside, nestled on a fluff of darkless cotton lies…a circle of lightless fabric? You pick it up, two equally  lightless strings falling to dangle on either side of the circle.

“It’s an eyepatch!” Isa says. “I noticed how much the one the House healers gave you bothers you soooo I thought why not get you a better one? At first I tried shopping for one, but eyepatches aren’t really a thing that’s in high demand, so it was hard to find any, and the ones I did find were just as thin and scratchy as the House ones, so I tried my hand at making one!”

He…made this for you? You turn it over in your hands, awed by the careful stitching and the soft lightless fabric. It’s even your favorite shade!

“It would have been done sooner, but it took a while to figure out how to put craft into it so it’s waterproof and won’t itch or get too hot and shift even when you move around a lot.”

“Isa, that’s amazing!” Mira gushes. “I didn’t know you could put craft into fabric like that!”

“Haha, I know right? It’s super cool! This House actually has a class on it if you’re interested.”

Mira nods eagerly. “I am!”

“Soooo, Siiiiif. Don’t leave me in suspense. What do you thiiiink?” Isa wonders after a moment of silence. “Do you like it? Hate it? Did I step in it? Please tell me I didn’t step in it…”

You shake your head quickly, your smile growing wider and wider. He made a gift for you. FOR YOU! YOU!!!

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

“I love it, Isa!” You hop off the bed and jump up and down, clutching the precious gift close. “I love it! I love it! I love it! I love it!”

Isa bounces with you, cheering. “YAY! I’m so glad you like it!”

Mira screams at your happiness, and you scream in response, and now all three of you are jumping around the room and screaming, and you can’t stop smiling. Can you smile any wider? Is this what it means to grin ear to ear? It’s wonderful! You feel so light, and it bursts out of you in giggles as you hop up and down.

Up!

Down!

Up!

Down!

Up!

“Do you want to put it on?” Isa asks through his own laughter.

“YES YES YES!” You cheer, punctuating each one with a hop. When you land on two feet again you stop, panting for breath. “Help me?”

“O-OH! YEAH! OF COURSE!” Isa settles and gently takes the eye patch from your hands. You turn around and hold the patch over your empty socket as Isa ties it in place. He’s so careful as he gingerly loops the band under your left ear and over your head.

“Is that too tight?”

“It’s perfect!” You turn back around so you can see him properly. “Thank you, Isa!”

“Haha, no problem, Sif! Let me know if it ever starts to bother you, and I’ll readjust it.”

You nod. You’re both grinning like mad.

“Oh. My. Change. It looks so good!” Mira squeals.

“Is it… eye-catching ?” you ask cheekily, poking out your tongue between your teeth.

“HAHAHAHA!” 

“Hehe! Very!” Mira giggles. 

You punch the air victoriously, both fists raised high.

YES! YOU’RE GOOD AT PUNS AGAIN!!!

“C’mon let’s go show Madame and Bonnie!”

Mira bounces towards the door, and you follow just as jubilantly, eager to show off your new eyepatch.

You can’t believe Isa took all that time and effort to make such an amazing gift for you! Is this what having friends is like? Having people there to eat with, laugh with, spend time with? If so, you never want to lose it!

Two days later, you’re sure you will. Odile was wrong. You can’t spare a month. It’s barely been three weeks, and the curse has nearly caught up. You can see it creeping towards the west edge of town through your window when you wake up. Everything beyond it is still and dark and eerily silent. Soon the town and all of its inhabitants will be too. 

You can’t hear any insects buzzing or birds piou piou-ing anymore. All the wildlife in the area has either vacated or been frozen.

Time’s up.

And you’re not confident it’s enough. Despite the spars, all the depth perception exercises, all the careful care and rest, you still bump into things. You still need to grip the railing when you go up and down steps. Bonnie still manages to land hits on you in spars even if it’s less frequently than when you first started. And your hits only land half the time… 

You’re not in top shape. Fighting a single Sadness right now without dying would be a feat, let alone the King . 

But you won’t let that stop you. You can’t .

You pack quickly. You’ve been pretty much all packed from the first day you arrived. There was no point in unpacking. You weren’t staying. You didn’t want to stay. And you didn’t want any more reason for your party to leave you behind. So you’re the first one ready.

You take a seat on the steps of the House and watch the unnatural night beyond the town’s borders, a barely perceptible breeze tugging at your hair.

If you stay here for another few hours, you’ll be frozen in time. Isa joked about carrying you along if that ever happened, but you don’t think that would actually be possible. Anyone and anything frozen in time becomes as immovable as a mountain. He’d have to leave you. They’d all have to leave you. 

They might still leave you anyway. You’re a one-eyed liability. They tried to help you not be. Although, now you have to wonder if any of their efforts were even genuine. Did you mistake their kindness for friendship? 

The more you think about it, the more certain you are that that’s the case. Mirabelle and Isabeau are too nice to be mean or turn away someone in need. You’re hurt, so they do all they can to boost you up. Make you feel better, both physically and mentally. It’s why Isa called you his friend when you whined about being useless. It’s why Mira took over caring for your dead eye even though it’s disgusting. It’s why they entertained you with plays and board games. It’s why Isa took all that time to craft you an eyepatch! Not out of friendship but obligation. It was all just one last glorious hurrah before they left you for good. Because they want to leave you with good memories to freeze with. Anything else would be cruel.

You don’t think Odile cares so much about that. Not that you think she’s heartless, but you know she isn’t one to spare feelings either. That being said, she does have them, and leaving you behind—even if it’s the pragmatic thing to do—would make her feel guilty. At least by helping you with depth perception exercises she can reassure herself that she did all she could. She tried. It’s not her fault you weren’t good enough!

And Bonnie…well, Bonnie just hates you now. The others probably convinced them to feed you as some sort of life lesson. Something like: you can be upset at people but don’t be mean and deny them basic necessities. 

Helping you, feeding you, entertaining you…it was all just to placate you. To make the blow of abandoning you that much softer. So maybe you won’t even recognize it until it’s too late, but you do. You feel it! You see it! Or maybe you don’t. You are half-blind now, after all. How certain are you that they haven’t already left? Taken a back exit you don’t know about and aren’t halfway to the next town by now? Are you sitting here waiting for nothing?!?!

…

…You are, aren’t you?

Hahaha! 

You’re so stupid!

You think you actually have friends?!

Why would anyone want to be friends with you ?

You bring absolutely nothing to the table. In fact, you weigh everyone down now more than ever!

You should be left behind. You just don’t want to be because you’re selfish and clingy and stupid! ~

You realize going with them is risking the fate of the entire country, right?

Millions of people, right?

RIGHT?!

Yup! 

You do! 

Of course you do!

And you’ll still do it anyway because you’re an idiot.

A selfish, disgusting, idiot with no regard for other people so long as you get what you want.

Disgusting. 

Why are you so awful awful awfu—

“There you are!” Isa’s booming voice makes you start, and you whirl around to see the entire party pouring out of the House’s entrance.

“What the crab, Frin?!” Bonnie shouts at you. “You should’ve told someone where you were! Or waited in your room! We were looking everywhere! Belle thought you got lost in the House or something!” 

It takes you a moment to find your voice. “S-sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Mira assures you, although with the anxiety in her voice and the speed with which she’s descending the steps, you don’t quite believe her. “We just gotta get a move on!”

Bonnie clomps down the steps after Mira in their big boots. “LET’S GO, LET’S GO, LET’S GOOOO! I have snacks! We can eat while we run!”

“Walk,” Odile corrects as she descends the steps at a more leisurely place, her cross-body bag slung over her shoulder. “I will not be running anywhere. The curse is not going to overtake us that quickly.”

“Crab. It is really close, though,” Isa notes nervously, frowning at the town border.

“That’s why we have to move!” Mira calls over her shoulder as she speed-walks away from the House, Bonnie on her heels. “Come on!”

You watch as Odile reaches the bottom of the stairs and Isa, a few steps ahead of her, looks over his shoulder. 

He locks eyes with you.

You brace for a hasty goodbye.

“Sif? You coming?”

…Coming?

You?

What?

Odile also pauses, glancing over her shoulder to eye you.

YOU?!

Now they’re both looking at you, expectant.

Waiting.

For…

You .

A puff of breath you didn’t know you’d been holding escapes your lips, and you nod, a grin breaking across your face. “Yeah!”

Lightheaded with happiness, you bound down the steps and join your friends.

You have a King’s butt to kick. Together!