Chapter Text
“Are you ready, Nox?”
The Villain key lifted his head, moonstone eyes meeting opal. Violet’s face was etched in resolve; though she had posed it as a question, Nox knew she would not take anything other than a “yes” for an answer. There was no going back now; after all, they were right on the verge of completing their mission.
Their siblings, along with their jar of narratonin, were laid out on the large table to form the circle for the wish-making ritual, still and unmoving. They hoped that the others had not been woken up from their slumber in all this time – that they were blissfully unaware of everything that had transpired since they last were all together.
They would explain everything to the others after it was said and done. Certainly, it would take far too long to remove the keyrings from each of their siblings and try to explain things then. Time was of the essence, and it was slipping from them bit by bit. Violet kept reiterating that this, surely, was for the good of them all. They would fix things now, apologize later.
And apologies would certainly be in order. The betrayal, the separation, losing their siblings…it would be a lot for the others to take in. It had been for Silver, Bronze, and Goldie, who had not come with them very willingly. Their opinions differed; they had grown quite fond of these humans, and would be fairly hurt once it was all over, but it was rather difficult to argue against Violet. Nox would be lying if he said he hadn’t found a certain fondness for them himself, despite their interference with their plans, but he would never admit that to his older sister.
The humans…his mind, against his will, drifted to a certain blond. They had come for their siblings (to “rescue them from their perilous plight”, as Violet had put it, though Nox had his doubts on the truth of that wording) in the dead of night. In the time it had taken them to get to Ex Libris, Chase most certainly had woken up and noticed that the keys, and perhaps some of his narratonin, were missing. Nox tried shying away from imagining what emotions he must be feeling right now, instead telling himself that perhaps Chase’s wish was a selfish one – not one that he truly deserved, but it did little to alleviate the guilt that gnawed at him.
It’s not like this will matter, he told himself. In a few moments, everything would be completely rewritten: Chase wouldn’t feel despair, hurt, betrayed – because he would have never found the keys in the first place. When time would again reach his century, he would just be a regular teen having a regular summer. He would forget everything about the keys, Ex Libris, wishes…and Nox himself.
And Nox hated that that thought is what hurt most.
Violet snapped her fingers in her little brother’s face, incredulous that he had chosen now to space out on her. “Nox, Nox! Seriously, focus now. We are so close to achieving our mission. We don’t have time for any lollygagging. I shall ask again: are you ready?”
He gave a few quick blinks, snapping out of his daze. “I…y-yeah. I’m…I’m ready.”
“Good. Now, remember: word the wish exactly how I dictated it. We don’t want any mistakes.” Before Nox could groan about how many times she had recited it to him and most certainly would never forget it for as long as he lived, she popped into her key form. He caught her mid-air (rather ungracefully, Violet would have pointed out) and gently placed her on the table, nearly completing the ring. Now, only one key was left to form it: himself.
In all honesty, Nox wasn’t entirely sure if this would work. He knew all twelve keys were needed in order to perform the wish ceremony, but he didn’t know if they all needed to be in their key forms in order for it to work, or if the keys even could make wishes. Whenever he had questioned Violet about it, she (rather unconvincingly) proclaimed that everything would work out fine. He suspected she herself didn’t know either, but did not want to sow a seed of doubt in her younger brother. For her, this had to work, because if it didn’t, all hope would be lost. She refused to believe otherwise.
He made his way to the last open spot in the circle, where the Villain key was to be laid. The moment his foot reached the spot, a familiar energy began coursing through the circle, emitting a blue-green light with a gentle hum. That night flashed into Nox’s mind, as he remembered how the energy had surged through his body, cold and fierce, forcing him to grant wishes he did not wish to grant. But now, this time, he was in control. Assuming it worked, at least.
I guess we’re about to find out.
Between the humming of the circle and the cacophony of his own thoughts, Nox found it difficult to concentrate on the wish he was making. Instead, in that moment, all that he could focus on was that little idiot. If he knew what they were doing, would he have understood? Would he have been angry? Would he have hated him?
…Would he have forgiven him?
Perhaps it was a good thing that Violet had drilled the exact wording into his head for an entire afternoon, as he could recite it without needing to think. His thoughts were swirling around so fast, he didn’t think he could’ve made the wish if he had to think about it for more than a second.
I wish…
I wish things were different.
I wish it didn’t have to be this way.
I wish you wouldn’t forget me.
“I wish…”
…
A flash of blue; a blinding light. The earth seemed to rumble as the hands of time rewound, groaning under the weight of such a wish. As the world seemed to dissolve and reform around him all at once, one thought broke through the discord and found its way to the front of Nox’s mind:
Are we really doing the right thing?
CA-CLANG
The sound of the fallen crowbar echoed through the room. A sudden jolt had run through the thief, causing him to tumble backwards and grab his head. It felt like lightning had just struck through his brain, and it took him a few moments to refocus his gaze and collect himself.
What…what was that?
He never lost his composure in moments like this; it was completely out of character. Yet, he found it difficult to remember what exactly he had just been doing…he had come here for a reason, hadn’t he? He looked down at the crowbar that he had apparently dropped, then at his bag of stolen goods, then at the ornate metal cage standing before him.
Right. Right. He needed money. This place was rumored to have a hidden wealth. He had broken in to get some things to pawn off. Right. So what was he missing?
And…why was he in the library? He glanced around the room, trying to determine if anything of value had caught his eye and drawn him there. His eyes landed back on the metal cage, where he spotted the most alluring thing he had ever seen: an odd cicada-shaped jar, slightly larger than his hand, which glowed softly with a blueish-green light. All at once, the urge of needing it gripped his heart, like it was beckoning him to take it, to hold it, to open it. At the same time, the strangest sense of déjà vu struck him, as if he was reliving an old memory.
Yet…he had never been in this building before, had he? Surely he would have remembered this jar that commanded him so.
Something else seemed to tug at him, though, as well. Almost a voice, so familiar and yet not, that told him to go deeper in the building; to find it and collect it. If the jar was appealing to his heart, this was calling to his mind, and he felt as though what it was telling him was what he was supposed to do.
He stood there, trying to rationalize his thoughts. What was wrong with him? Being beguiled by a jar, and feeling a sense of loyalty to a strange voice – was he losing his mind? It was just a jar, and it was just a voice; surely he could turn back now and leave with what he had. Clearly this place was driving him mad.
And yet…the heart wants what the heart wants. Despite the voice in his head — familiar, familiar, why did it sound so familiar? — and his better judgment beseeching him to stop, his body moved on its own, gripping the crowbar to tear away at metal bars until the jar was in his grasp, knowing the whole time that it was wrong, wrong, wrong.
Just having the object in the palm of his hand wasn’t enough. A second voice was present now, as though the jar itself was speaking to him, whispering to him and drowning out the sounds of the oh-so-familiar one – he needed, needed to know what was in it. Whatever the first voice was telling him to do…it could wait until after he opened it, couldn’t it? He could take one peek, then go search for whatever else was pulling at his consciousness.
He slipped his finger through the handle, tugging it open until he heard a click.
And, in that moment, he felt as though his fate had been sealed the moment he laid his eyes on the jar.
…
A flash of blue; a blinding light. In an instant, fog engulfed his vision, the world seemed to spin, and, just as soon as it had started, everything faded to black.