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Chapter One
Familiar humming, a cradle song filled with memories from the past, draws her from sleep making her heart instantaneously clench. She struggles to fix her gaze past the morning sun illuminating the small room through the window to see a woman. Her face is a blank smooth void as always. Just seeing this person, even expression less, fills her with immense happiness, the feeling intoxicating and at the same time deeply unfamiliar.
The woman walks over to gather the infant into her arms, nestling her close bringing tears to her eyes at the comfort it brings. Where a mouth should be, the skin moves, shaping a single name:
“Mirielle!”
That’s not this woman’s voice. Well, she can’t remember the woman’s voice but she knows who’s voice this is.
A sharp tug on Mirielle’s consciousness pulls urging her away, but she clings to the comfort of the illusion. She has to stay before the woman goes again forever.
“Mirielle wake up!” The sharp voice cuts through the woman’s face again. “Putain!”
The dream shattered as a shock of ice cold water drenches her, soaking her clothes and mattress in a violent, immediate jolt from the dream. Mirielle splutters, dazed, blinking up at her friend, who stands holding an empty, dripping bucket.
“About time!” Sciel glares down. “I called you a hundred times. You just kept snoring.”
“You could have just left me,” Mirielle sighed, wringing the water from her shirt. Her head pounding. The damp bed was a depressing thought it’ll take days to dry. Well, she wouldn't be returning to it afterall so it’ll be someone else’s problem.
“Have you forgotten what today is?”
“I haven’t forgotten.” Her voice was flat.
“Is that what all these are for?” Sciel nudges several empty bottles with the toe of her boot.
Mirielle just shrugs. They numbed the pain this day brought. Well, everyday brings. The memories. The impending doom.
Sciel pinches the bridge of her nose. “You were dreaming. You refused to wake up. Must have been some dream.” There was a hint of bitter jealousy in her tone.
Stripping off the sodden clothes, Mirielle pulls on an oversized sweater. “A woman. She was humming. I felt safe. I just wanted to stay there.”
“Your mom?”
“Probably.” She can’t recall what her parents looked like. Mirielle was too young when they were Gommaged. But she apparently looks like mother.
“We’re late. It’s almost time for the Gommage. Here.” Sciel shoved a bundle of neatly folded clothes into her arms. “Get your ass moving, or I’ll leave, and you’ll have to walk to the pier alone like a loner loser.”
Mirielle gives a curt nod.
She slips into the small bathroom, quickly unbraiding her long hair from the sleeping braids before plaiting it back into her tight, practical daytime braid. She pulls on the Expedition uniform the pair had modified to suit their tastes and stares at the scared rosy face in the mirror. She slaps her cheeks a few times- sharp, stinging taps. Get it the fuck together. Her blue eyes shut drawing into her daily mantra.
Hide your emotions.
Slide the mask of unfeeling on.
Don’t let them see how fucking scared you are. How badly you want to hide.
And:
Remember your mission. Remember your purpose. The reason you are going on the Expedition.
I won’t fail, even if it kills me.
With a nod, she whipped open the door. Sciel was adjusting the final buckle on her own uniform. Mirielle's heart clenched, seeing her best friend in attire worn by hundreds before them- all of whom had failed their Expeditions. All of whom were dead. And death they too walk towards.
No. They will succeed. Sciel will live. And so will-
“Before we leave, here.” Sciel passes the blond a small gift box.
Mirielle crooks an eyebrow. “It better not be a ring or this is about to get real awkward.”
Sciel lets out an exaggerated gag. “Look, I love you, Miri, but not like that. Now go on, open it.” She crosses her arms, her usual impatience masked by energy as she rolls on her heels.
With a smirk, Mirielle lift: the lid. Inside, nestled on black velvet, lays a yellow-gold sash with white markings. She removes it, looking back at her friend.
“I wanted us to have something matching, something nobody else has.” Sciel said, tapping her own waist where an identical sash was looped through her belt. “Just you and me.”
“I-” Mirielle broke off, swallowing the sudden, painful lump of emotion before it can show through the masks. “Thank you, Sce. Can you help me put it on?”
Sciel leans in, her movements careful as she secures the material around Mirielle’s waist and around her uniforms belt. When she steps back, Mirielle doesn’t miss the almost disguised tear Sciel wipes away. “Damn, you’re so short the sash is almost reaching the floor.”
“Shut up, bitch.” Mirielle rolls her eyes, playfully shoving her friend. “You know I wasn’t fed enough milk as a child therefore I was stunted.” They were desperate, both of them, to inject any measure of levity into the crushing situation. “Shall we go?” She holds out her hand.
Sciel grasps it, her palm warm and solid, just as it was all those years ago. “Together?”
Mirielle met her gaze the weight of their unspoken future settling between them. “Until the end, and beyond.”
“You need a minute before we leave your house?” Sciel ask hiking her backpack over her shoulder. “I know I did before I left my home.”
“Nope.” It was the harsh truth. “Nothing to miss here.” But her eyes did briefly land on the window from her dream of the woman. “Let’s go.”
The streets of Lumiere are bustling as everyone is out for the Gommage. There are tears spilling as people are readying to say goodbye forever to beloved family, friends and lovers. The pair are stopped frequently by people wishing them luck on the expedition, pay their respects or to hug Sciel goodbye.
“Did you already say goodbye to your students?” Mirielle asks.
“Yeah. You didn’t notice my puffy eyes when I picked you up?” She replies.
“Well yeah, but it could have been a multitude of reasons.”
“Some don’t understand, others were beyond upset. Poor kiddos.” She sighs. “We’ll do it Miri. Our Expedition will be the last and we’ll free everyone from the Paintress.”
The blond was about to spew some facts about their likelihood but instead she agrees as Sciel still wants to feel hope despite all lost.
They reach the pier where it’s packed with people seeing off loved ones as Expeditioners or those about to be Gommaged.
“Uh oh.” Sciel nods to where Alan stands with a few others. “He’s noticed our uniforms.”
“He’s sure to have something to say.” Mirielle smirks.
When everyone received the Expedition 33 uniforms they were informed they could accessorize to their liking but to not modify drastically as they need to look uniform. And clearly, Sciel and Mirielle had not abided by that rule.
Both of their clothing were heavily changed by Mirielle’s hands herself. Being a seamstress, she’d been delighted to design and change the clothing to their individual styles.
Mirielle had greatly changed around her own jacket, changing it to be more of a capelette and removed the white undershirt and tie. And well…. Clearly Sciel’s is vastly different.
The other woman waves sassily at Alan and blew him a kiss causing him to cross his arms and shake his head. Later. He mouths.
“How about you not egg him on?”
“It’s fun. And god knows I need a little fun about now.” She stretches and looks around the crowd. “Besides, if he’s mad I’ll just tell him you altered the clothes so it’s all your fault.”
“…. Thanks.”
“Oh, there’s Gustave.”
“Where?” Mirielle’s mood instantly changes as she tries to peer around the mass of people to lay eyes on the man.
“Cute.”
“Shut up.” Mirielle shoves her.
“Any moment now the Paintress will stand.” Someone murmurs.
The woman weaves through people until she sees Gustave standing near the waters edge of the pier, he stands with Sophie. Holding tight onto her hands.
It’s good they reconnected before-
Gasps rise as the Paintress stands, her immense form in the distance moving slowly, as if in pain, to change the number on the monolith. It’s like a chill slices through her body at the dread.
People are crying, sobbing and begging for those about to be Gommaged. Every year they go through this pain. Everyone has lost someone they love, and she’s gotten numb to it. The only ones she lost that she loved was her parents and she was so young. Her brother didn’t count. That wasn’t love. The only other one was her- Mirielle’s left hand starts to raise from her sides before she stops herself and closes her eyes from the tide of emotions. No. Hide your emotions.
Instead, she focuses down at Gustave and Sophie as people begin to Gommage away around her.
The former couple are talking to each other, crying she can tell, and then Sophie too disappears in a cloud of petals, leaving the man alone.
Mirielle can feel his pain from here, she knows all too well what Sophie meant to him, even though they broke up years ago.
She’s about to step forward, to try and comfort him (who’s she kidding she shit at that) when Alan’s voice raises above the sobs and whispers. “Expedition! Follow!”
She’ll find him later.
Gustave - Before leaving on the expedition
Gustave’s gaze is drawn across the pier to where a group approaches a lone figure sitting at a table. And he can’t help but overhear the exchange.
“Why did you decide to come on the Expedition, Mirielle?” Margot asks voice pitched high chin raised as she looks down her nose at the woman.
“Yeah you’ve got a few good years left!” another chimes in. “Well, more than most of us, anyway.”
Mirielle slowly swirls the ruby wine in her glass eyes fixed on the liquid without giving the group an ounce of her direct attention. It was a drawn out deliberate pause. She lifts one shoulder in a dismissive shrug. “Beats sitting around waiting to die and wallowing in dread.”
Gustave couldn’t suppress a smirk at her blunt response.
Tristan leans in hooking a arm around her shoulder. The casual pressure making Mirielle’s jaw clench, her back instantaneously tensing. “You gonna be sober enough for the Expedition? Who knows what awaits us on the Mainland. Need you in prime fighting order.” He squeezed her shoulder his hands making theatrical, sarcastic gestures that earned snickers. “And, well, we all know how much you love your alcohol. Won’t be much of that on the mainland.”
“I’m going to step in.” Gustave mutters to Luc. They should be united on the eve of the Expedition, but instead, petty strife was boiling over fueled by stress, anxiety, and the sheer dread of leaving their home into almost certain doom. And unfortunately, she’s getting the brunt of it.
But Gustave knows theres more to it.
Mirielle is a blunt person who keeps to herself and refuses to soften her words, earning her few friends in Lumiere. And Tristan and Margot have never really seemed fond of her in particular.
“No. She wouldn’t want you to.” Luc stopped him brow furrowed. He wasn't wrong; the archer’s notoriously prideful. In the past when she’s needed help it’s almost been too late.
Her sharp blue eyes narrow on Tristan. “I’m more sober than you are rat face.” The words sharp. She leans in and whispers something into his ear. She then jerks her shoulder free of his grasp and slides away on the bench fingers still clutching her wine glass.
“You bitch-“ Tristan’s face turns an angry red, the humor draining completely. But before he can lurch forward, a new voice cut through the air:
“Hey! Asshole!”
Gustave turns to see Sciel storming over, her movements tight with barely contained fury. She doesn’t hesitate. She strides right up to Tristan and shoves his chest. He stumbles backward over his own feet caught off guard and lands flat on his ass on the hard stone.
“Sciel! That was not needed!” Alan calls out from across the crowded pier, his voice sharp with the command.
“Not needed?!” Sciel snaps back, planting hands on her hips and glaring down at Tristan as he scrambles to stand up. “They were harassing my friend! Your fellow expeditioner! And you stood there and allowed it to happen. Don’t you dare pretend you didn’t notice. So help me, if you don’t get him out of my face, I’ll wring that pasty little-“
With a flurry of motion, Tristan, Margot, and the others scattered, clearing a wide berth around Mirielle and Sciel.
“I didn’t need your help,” Mirielle glower:, looking up at Sciel with familiar, stubborn defiance. Gustave knew what she was about to do if Sciel hadn’t stepped in when she did. He had noticed how her hands had tightened around the glass. She had been seconds from smashing it into Tristan.
“You didn’t.” Sciel agreed, relaxing her posture. “I know you can defend yourself, but do you think feeding into a hitting and biting brawl would improve their view of you?”
“I don’t care what they think.” Mirielle brought the wine glass to her lips and downs the rest in one long gulp. “You know full well there’s only one other person than you that I care abou-“ Her voice cuts off as her eyes darted past Sciel. She spotted Gustave and Luc, still watching nearby. The blonde woman stood up awkwardly, straightening her clothes as if facing a reprimanding mentor.
Luc awkwardly waved before heading the opposite way, but Gustave walks over to the two women. “You okay, Miri? I was going to step in, but….” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck and avoids eye contact with Sciel, who no doubt is pissed he hadn’t stepped in first.
“I’m fine. It’s nothing I’m not used to.” Mirielle says flippant. She pauses however, glancing sidelong at Sciel expression shifting slightly. “But, uhh- thanks for asking. I appreciate it.” She looks at Sciel again, almost seeking a cue for how to handle this situation. “Anyways…. How are you holding up? I’m so sorry about Sophie. I know how much she meant to you.”
Gustave sighs. “I… I don’t know what to feel. Everyone keeps asking, but honestly, I just need to focus my attention on the mission ahead.” To getting us all out alive.
“I understand,” Mirielle nodded slowly. “How’s Maelle?”
“Not sure. I was about to find her.”
Mirielle gives him a small, almost wistful smile. “She’s lucky to have you.”
“The way I see it.” Gustave replies, meeting her gaze, his voice softer, “We’re lucky to have each other.”
Gustave hesitated, still processing her offer of sympathy and the sincerity in her voice. “Do you…. uhh want to come with me to find her?”
“No, no, no.” Mirielle quickly refuses. “I don’t want to intrude on that.”
“I’d feel better if you were with me.” Andy away from the others judgement.
“I’m not a damsel in distress.” Mirielle snaps, instantly crossing her arms, her guard shooting back up.
“That’s not what I meant!” Gustave threw his hands up in defense.
“Oh, for goodness sake. I’ll stay with her obviously. Go, Gustave!” Sciel groans, placing a hand squarely on his back and giving him a firm shove.
The man was only a few steps away when he hears Sciel hiss, her voice low and frustrated:
“Honestly, Miri, if you don’t talk to him soon-“
“Now’s not the time,” Mirielle replies her tone definitive cutting the conversation short.
Mirielle was hiding something, to do with him, and has been for years. That’s been danced around all they’ve been through.
Something deep down he’s dying to know. But, he’d never force her into anything she wasn’t ready for.
But first things first, he needs to find Maelle.