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Ralsei is alone.
This is not a new predicament.
For most of Ralsei’s existence, he has been alone.
Alone, waiting for his destined heroes to arrive. His Delta Warriors.
He yearned for their arrival, yearned for his chance at companionship. He hadn’t even known what companionship could possibly entail, yet he yearned for it regardless.
And now, now that he had them, he missed them even more. Funny, how that is.
Ralsei stared at the dark reflection in his window. A lone plush of himself sat in the corner of his room, carefully placed upon a ladder as if it were a shelf. A couch cushion, a worthy seat, rested right beside it. Dust buried itself into the crevices, insistent on making its presence known. It clogged Ralsei’s nostrils. He was far too used to the feeling.
He missed his friends. Dearly. He had nothing to do when they weren’t here. No purpose. No way to distract himself from the ever-looming threat.
The darkness is overwhelming. More than it should be. Dark. Yet darker. Ralsei swallowed harshly. Maybe…
Maybe they could fix this.
Susie had been so insistent that she wouldn’t let that future take hold. That he wouldn’t let that future take hold. That Kris wouldn’t let that future take hold. And Ralsei wanted so desperately to just believe her.
To be a foolish, naive idiot who thinks fate can be altered. To believe that they actually had a choice. That free will existed. That, maybe, maybe, Ralsei won’t lose all of this.
But Ralsei had been created for one purpose and one purpose alone– to serve. The idea that he could become something tangible, something real, was a terrifying one. Although perhaps not a terrible one.
No.
No, that was just idiotic.
Despite all that he made himself out to be, despite the role he was molded and shaped to play, Ralsei was not an optimist. He wasn’t a pessimist, of course! The idea that he could be a pessimist was just preposterous! But Ralsei was a realist.
And so, Ralsei knew that he would never be real.
Honestly, they shouldn’t even care about him.
He was just…
He was just a Darkner. Just an object in the real world. Nothing of note. Nothing worthy of real care. For he was an object, and objects do not feel.
Honestly, why couldn’t Susie and Kris just forget about him! Spend them with their real friends! Avoid the Dark World like a plague! Then perhaps calamity could actually be avoided. Then perhaps they wouldn’t have to face it head on.
Ralsei blinked. Has his vision fogged? Oh dear! He must have forgotten to clean his glasses with all the ruckus today had been! He could be so silly sometimes! Just a complete and utter fool! Honestly, it was getting annoying!
Ralsei took off his glasses, summoning a cloth to clean them. Yet, his vision was blurred all the same.
What?
He lifted a hand, his claws grazing his damp fur. It wasn’t thick or dry enough to be the residue blood.
Ah. So he was crying.
Ralsei could see it clearly now, in the transparent, barely noticeable reflection of himself in his dark window. He wasn’t even sure how a reflection even existed, especially considering light was a foreign concept to him and to this world he inhabited. But it existed none the less.
Perhaps, in this room where one could barely see, one could barely imagine, the photon readings were far closer to zero than the typical far negatives Ralsei was used to. Perhaps a sliver, just barely a sliver, of light had filtered through, allowing Ralsei the curse to see his own cursed reflection.
Now wasn’t that a thought?
Ralsei supposed that his stupid, pointless, worthless tears had proved some use. Some of the flakes of blood– Susie’s blood– were washed away by them. Still, they marred his face, marked his eyes. Made him look exhausted.
Ralsei wasn’t supposed to be affected by all this.
Ralsei was supposed to be a beacon of hope and of comfort. Be there for the heroes in whatever way he can. And he cannot do that if he is bawling his eyes out of the most minor of inconveniences!
Fate ticks forward, and no matter how much Ralsei wants, it will proceed. Destiny was unavoidable. Ralsei is not allowed to want.
Tears flowed more viciously now.
An unshakable fear ran through Ralsei. What if someone found him? What if Kris or Susie or the Angel or– or anyone, really, burst into his room? He can’t cry. Just in case.
And so, Ralsei, eternally examining his reflection, began to smile. It was a strained thing, his incisors showing too much.
It was wrong.
He tried again.
Maybe if he squinted his eyes it would look more authentic? He should soften up his features.
No. No that wasn’t it.
Ralsei was supposed to be good at this. He had been smiling for all his life, unwavering in the joy he radiated. Why was it faltering now!?
If…
Ralsei narrowed his eyes. No ifs. He shoved his claws into his mouth, forcing his lips to curl upwards. Removing them with a disgustingly loud pop, Ralsei, shoved his knuckles into his cheeks, hoping to recreate dimples.
No. No.
It still wasn’t—!
“I thought we told you it was okay not to smile.”
“KRIS!” Ralsei yelped in shock, flustered as he reoriented himself. Ralsei rubbed at his face, desperate to wipe away the dampness of his fur, the redness of his eyes.
Ralsei blinked. “Kris! What are you doing here? Alone, too!” ‘Where’s Susie? Where’s the soul?’ Ralsei did not ask, for it would have been horrendously impolite to.
Kris shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep and got bored.” They grinned slightly, a broken but real little thing. Why could Ralsei get his smiles to look like that?
A hand, metallic and cold due to the gauntlet that protected it, tugged at Ralsei’s wrist, dragging Ralsei far away from his thoughts. He let out a startled little noise, more akin to a squeak than anything, a soft blush dusting his cheeks. “Stop thinking,” Kris insisted, “it’s bad for you.”
Ralsei let out a huff of indignation and shock. “I can’t just stop thinking!” He insisted, wringing his fingers together despite his defiant glare. “Fate–”
Kris, clearly fed up, shoved their fist inside Ralsei’s mouth without a second thought. “Stop talking. Soul’s not here. You don’t need to talk to me as if I don’t know about fate.” They spat, a harsh glint of anger marring those fiery red eyes.
Ralsei sputtered. Kris softened. They wriggled their hand free, wiping the saliva against their armor as if it were dust. Ralsei shuffled slightly. “You should… you should go back home! I don’t want your mother to worry.”
“No.”
Ralsei froze. “No?”
Kris grinned. “Nah. I don’t want to leave you alone and my mom won’t worry for a moment.” Their face turned sullen for a moment, as they muttered something under their breath that Ralsei was sure sounded eerily similar too: “she’s probably too hungover to give a shit about me.”
Ralsei, of course, wasn’t sure. And so, the least he could do was be affronted by Kris’ use of language in his head. Ralsei inhaled sharply. Alright. So Kris was staying. Wonderful. “I… I’m quite fine by myself, Kris, truly!”
Kris scrunched up their nose. “You look on the verge of a mental breakdown.” Ralsei flinched. Kris, almost instantly, gripped Ralsei’s shoulders. Ralsei wanted nothing more than for those flimsy, lanky arms to snake around him and hold him tight. His body did not move. “Which isn’t a bad thing.” They looked as if they were speaking from experience– as if they themselves had once thought it was a bad thing but had since taken it in some level of pride.
Ralsei had no doubt that that was the case.
For the soul was an emotionless thing. It cared, Ralsei knew that much, but it rarely let Kris truly and wholly emote. Grief was an emotion. And so, grief meant freedom. To Kris, at least.
Ralsei didn’t deserve to grieve. Ralsei shouldn’t have emotions.
“You look tired,” Kris hummed under their breath, one hand cupping Ralsei’s cheek to get a better look at his eyes. Ralsei couldn’t keep his gaze off of the metallic sheen.
“I’m a Darkner, Kris.” Kris tilted their head, their brows furrowed as if that very concept was a challenge they needed to overcome.
“Lancer has a bed.” They said, and simply left it at that. It was the simplest thing in the world to them. It was a necessity and a luxury all rolled into one. And wasn’t that just so utterly fascinating?
Ralsei sighed. It’s not like he had a choice, did he?
But… Ralsei met Kris’ eyes. Kris didn’t care if Ralsei didn’t have a choice. They would give him one anyway. “I’d… I’d rather not sleep right now, Kris.” And Kris, the cage dangling from green strings, did not argue.
They hummed softly. “Does this Dark World have a piano? Maybe I could teach you or something.”
Ralsei lit up. Kris’ playing was just so wonderful! Ralsei would be absolutely delighted to be able to hear it again! “Oh, yes! I’m sure there is one somewhere! Let's go look for it!” Ralsei stood there for a moment, waiting for Kris to take initiative.
Kris did not. “How about you lead me? You probably have a better idea where it is.” Kris suggested. Ralsei noticed that Kris had a habit of tilting their head to the side. Both from confusion and for exaggeration. That… Well, wasn’t that adorable?
It took Ralsei a moment to actually realize what Kris was asking of him. Kris’ reasoning was sound, of course, but Ralsei couldn’t just lead! He was Ralsei, the healer, Ralsei, the support. Kris was meant to lead!
…No.
No, the soul was meant to lead. Kris was just being taken along for the ride.
So, Ralsei supposed that he would be forgiven if he took charge just this once.
He giggled, grabbing Kris’ hand despite his continued hesitancy. Ralsei then took off running. “Come on!”
It didn’t take long for Ralsei to stumble upon the piano. He had remembered hearing that the Organikks and Wicabels had been intently working on building one. It was a pale blue-green, though it lacked those little pipes that the pianos in the Dark Sanctuary had– unless that wasn’t a piano, which would make sense. There was another instrument similar to it, but Ralsei simply could not remember the name.
Kris narrowed their eyes, clearly trying to figure out how and what to teach Ralsei. They ambled towards the leather seat, resting on it with a practiced ease. Their fingers brushed the keys subconsciously. Kris shuffled to the left slightly, making room for Ralsei. Ralsei took it as his invitation to sit down.
It was a little cramped, but there was enough space for the both of them, even if Ralsei was pressed against Kris’ side. “Gonna teach you the basics… and one song,” they added, after a brief pause.
Ralsei stared at the keys. There were so many of them. How could Ralsei possibly know which one was which!
Kris pressed a key square in the middle of the piano, getting Ralsei’s attention almost immediately. “The notes go from A to G and then repeat themselves. The note I’m playing right now is C. Middle C. Most pieces will be centered around Middle C.” Ralsei nodded vehemently. Should he take notes?
Ralsei stared at the keys, before pressing the first black key left of Middle C. “So, this is A?”
Kris shook his head. “That’s an A sharp. B flat. Same thing. This–” Kris pressed on the white key just next to it, “–is A.” Ralsei frowned. Sharp? Flat? What did that mean? “The white keys are the normal ones, like A, B, C, up till G, and the black keys are the flats and sharps. I’ll talk about them later once you actually learn the notes.” Kris’ eyes darted around. “I’m going to look for paper and a pencil. You try to figure out and memorize which notes are which.”
Ralsei froze. By himself. That was fine. He could do that. He could figure it out himself. It was simple, wasn’t it? Just a couple of letters. “...Alright.” That was alright. Kris stared oddly at Ralsei for a brief moment before standing up to saunter off.
The keys looked almost blinding. Ralsei experimentally pressed on the A. The key slammed downwards– unexpected but not quite as discordant as he thought it would be. He had pressed down too hard, hadn’t he? The piano… seemed fine though. Maybe it was just in his head. He was just starting to learn! If he wasn’t clunky, that would be absurd! (It was something he had to be prepared for when the soul entered the Dark World. It could have been new. Unprepared. And so he had to expect that. It felt odd, expecting the same thing from himself.)
Ralsei pressed on B next. C. Middle C, right? It was somewhat in the middle of the keyboard, so that would make sense. D. E. F. G. …H?
No wait. Kris had said it ended at G and repeated from A. And wasn’t that confusing? But Ralsei could see how the keys looked exactly the same from one group (octave was what it was called, he would later learn) to another. So perhaps it wasn’t all that bad.
A, B, C, D, E, F, G, not H.
A, B, C, D, E, F, G. Once more. Just to be safe.
A, B, C, D, E, F, G. Good. Good. He knew it. He understood.
Perhaps not perfectly. But he knew.
There is a dip in the chair. Kris sat next to Ralsei, pressing against his fur. They held a paper and a pencil in one hand and a clipboard in the other. Wordlessly, they began sketching lines and circles and a little circular symbol with a line straight through the middle off to the left. Five circles on the lines, four on the spaces, two just below the lines, one of which with a strike through it.
“What are you drawing…?” Ralsei asked, almost hesitantly.
Kris hummed as they revised some of their lines and created a list of letters to the side in two rather random categories. “Scale. You’re going to need to know how to read them.”
Ralsei’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Those symbols back at the Dark Sanctuary!”
Kris placed the page on the stand, shifting slightly so their hands could rest on the keys if they so wanted. “See the note all the way at the bottom below the staff?” Ralsei nodded. So the staff was the name of that group of lines. Ralsei could work with that. “That’s middle C.”
And Ralsei pressed middle C out of habit. Then he froze.
Should he have pressed it? Absolutely not, he was sure of it. He had imposed on Kris’ teaching!
Ralsei hesitantly met Kris’ crimson eyes, despite fearing what he would see.
There was no anger.
There was no anger.
Kris nodded. Vehemently. Their hand reached out subconsciously, ruffling Ralsei’s fur. He did okay.
Ralsei swallowed harshly. Kris pointed back at the staff. There is a second note below the staff. There was no line cutting through it. “That’s D.” Kris pointed out. Ralsei pressed D.
“Then is that one,” Ralsei pointed at the next note, the first one on the staff, “is E?” Kris lit up. A pat on Ralsei’s horn. “Do I… need to remember all of this?”
“Nah.” Kris tapped the group of letters they made right next to the staff. “There’s an acronym.” Kris spread out their hand, counting on their fingers. “Fingers are like the lines on the staff, and the spaces between your fingers are the spaces on the staff. So: Every–” Kris pointed at each of their fingers individually, “– Good Boy Does Fine.”
Ralsei hummed softly in confusion. “And that means?”
“E, G, B, D, F. The first letter of the word is the letter on the staff.” Ralsei nodded. Alright. That made sense. Kris pointed in between their fingers. “F, A, C, E. Does that make sense?”
Ralsei squinted slightly, trying to commit the concept to memory, counting on his fingers for a moment. Kris had already turned away, writing furiously and messing with the keys of the piano. They cursed quietly under their breath. They tilted their head in confusion, growling in frustration.
“Are you alright, Kris?”
Kris blinked, looking up at Ralsei. “Trying to write a piece from memory, but it sounds wrong.” They immediately returned to their annoyed crusade. Ralsei smiled softly, tugging at his fur. Cute.
Ralsei forced his eyes to stare at Kris’ hands. Their fingers slammed the keyboard, repeating the same simple tone over and over again. Ralsei frowned, trying to figure out what sounded wrong. “Maybe you’re missing a note…?” He suggested.
Kris lit up, as if something finally clicked. They played a note (F…? Or perhaps G? Maybe A. Ralsei wasn’t sure) on the piano, humming slightly. “Maybe…” Their brow furrowed. They messed around with the keys again. The smallest of smiles worked its way across their lips. “Thank you.” They whispered before going back to writing on the paper.
They fashioned the paper on the stand attached to the back of the piano. There was a little swirl on the left side of those little lines Ralsei had seen earlier. Beside it, there were two 4’s stacked on top of each other.
Ralsei didn’t even have to ask what it was, as Kris had immediately begun explaining. “The treble clef– that swirly thing over there– means you play with your right hand. The 4/4 is a time signature. The four on the top means four notes in a measure, which is this group of notes right here,” Kris’ index finger circled a series of notes separated by lines, “while the four on the bottom tells you that the base note is a quarter note.”
“A quarter note?”
Kris flushed, realizing that they had forgotten to teach Ralsei this. It was important, then. They grabbed a second piece of paper and began sketching furiously.
“There’s really only three types of notes you have to worry about right now. Quarter notes–” a filled-in circle with a line protruding from the back, “–half notes–” the same thing as a quarter note, except the inside of the circle was blank, “–and whole notes–” an empty oval.
“A quarter note lasts for one beat, a half note lasts for two beats, and a whole note lasts for four beats.”
Kris played a C in demonstration. “Quarter note.” 1. 2. 3. 4. 1. 2. 3. 4. “Half note.” 1–2. 3–4. 1–2. 3–4. “Whole note.” 1–2–3–4. 1–2–3–4.
“How would you play three notes?” Ralsei asked, as curious as a cat.
“Dotted half note.” Kris drew a dot right in front of the half note. “The dot means you play the beat plus half of it. So a dotted quarter note is one and one-eighth beats, a dotted half note is 3 beats, and a dotted whole note is six beats.”
Ralsei nodded along. That didn’t quite make sense at the moment, but he was positive that as these lessons continued (oh, how he hoped they would continue), he would understand it better.
Ralsei looked up, staring at the musical sheet. It looked so incredibly daunting. He… wasn’t sure where to start. Kris pointed to the beginning note, playing a note for Ralsei. “E.”
Okay. Ralsei inhaled sharply. First note was E. One down. D. C. Up once more. E three times in a row. Make sure to hold the last note for 2 beats longer. Repeat with D. Go up to E. Two F’s in a row. E, D, C, D. E, E, E, E. D, D, E, D. Hold out C.
It was clunky, it was slow. Ralsei was proud of himself.
Kris grinned, giving Ralsei a thumbs-up. They pointed towards the F’s. “Not F. G. You’re supposed to go up two, not one. I make that same mistake all the time.”
Kris’ fingers rested upon the keys once more, and Ralsei let them demonstrate.
Their fingers played smoothly against ivory-white keys. They didn’t even look back at their hand. It was a practiced motion, as if Kris had played this little tune a million times over. They probably had, given how the pieces Kris played back at the sanctuary had given Ralsei a headache just by looking at the sheet music. Sure enough, where Ralsei had pressed F, Kris had pressed G.
Absentmindedly, Ralsei realized that Kris was really good at staying on beat. “Is there anything that can help me time the notes I play better?” He asked, as he shifted his right hand back to the piano to practice another time, now corrected.
Kris nodded. “Metronome. I hate them. They distract me, so I count in my head. It might work for you, though. You could probably tune it out. Drum beats are also pretty good. Less noisy.”
Ralsei hummed in acknowledgement. Next time he played this piece, he would try to find one. Maybe there was a metronome darkner that they recruited? “What’s this song anyway?”
“Mary Had a Little Lamb. It’s a nursery rhyme. Sometimes it's a lullaby.”
Ralsei huffed. “Was that intentional?”
Kris shook their head, their long bangs barely hiding the mischievous glint in their eyes. “Nope.” They rasped, popping the P. “Just often the first song taught to beginner pianists.”
Ralsei rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll try to sleep.” Kris weaved their fingers into Ralsei’s, lifting them both up from their seat.
“You can use my bed. It’s very comfy.”
Ralsei swallowed harshly. “I know.”
Kris brushed against Ralsei’s shoulder, leading the way as they were always supposed to.
Ralsei followed, as he was always supposed to.
Kris pushed open the door. In the time they were gone, Ralsei had put back up the wall that divided their’s and Susie’s rooms.
Ralsei laid down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was comfortable. Soft. Firm. Ralsei didn’t mind it.
There was a soft ruffle of shifting fabrics from Ralsei’s right. He blinked. “Kris?” He asked quietly, afraid to shatter the carefully curated peace.
Kris sat next to Ralsei on the bed, tugging off his gauntlets and letting them clatter onto the ground. Ralsei kicked himself upright in alarm. “Kris!? What are you doing!?”
Kris continued to carelessly remove their armor, tugging off one of their sabatons. “Helping you sleep.”
Ralsei sputtered. “But– wh– how is removing your armor supposed to help?”
Kris shrugged. “Hugging armor doesn’t sound very comfortable, does it?” They said.
Ralsei flushed. “Wha– Kris, you don’t like hugs!”
“I don’t mind them,” they corrected, “I don’t seek them out. You like hugs.” The chestplate, engraved with the Delta Rune, was taken off alongside the rest of their armor.
“I don’t– I really don’t want to burden you. You should really be getting back to the Lightworld! Your mom is going to be worried sick! Don’t you have the festival tomorrow? You really don't want to miss that, do you?”
“Mom’s busy.”
Ralsei frowned. “It’s the dead of night?”
“She’s busy.”
“Alright.” Kris had won this little game of theirs. For now.
Hesitantly, he reached out. “Here,” he muttered, “let me help.”
Kris shook their head. “You don’t have to help all the time.”
Ralsei tore his gaze upward, determination set on his face. “I want to. I want to help. Not because it’s right but because I want to.”
Kris’ eyes didn’t meet Ralsei. They shrugged noncommittally. Ralsei knew that was as close to a true yes as he would get.
Ralsei fiddled with the clasps, watching as Kris’ chestplate came loose enough for them to wiggle out of it.
Ralsei coughed slightly, as Kris stretched out their freed limbs. He took off his glasses, wiping at the lenses and rested them on Kris’s bedside drawer. Kris tilted their head, looking at Ralsei. “So,” Ralsei began, his face flushed, “how is this… how is this going to work?”
Kris positioned themself against the headboard, sitting cross-legged. They patted their lap. “I’ll be getting up soon anyway. Don’t need to lie down.”
“Oh– um– yeah, that. That works!” Ralsei squeaked out, far too flustered for his own good.
Ralsei pressed his head into Kris’ lap, carefully orienting himself so his horns don’t poke their legs. “How… um… how is this?”
Kris didn’t respond. Hesitantly, their fingers wove into Ralsei’s fur, scratching at the base of his ear.
Ralsei blinked for a moment before leaning into the touch. He let out a soft sigh. For a moment, his eyes fluttered closed before Ralsei pried them open once more.
There was silence, thick and calm. Save for the rustle of fabric and creaking of springs, there wasn’t a sound to be heard.
Suddenly, so very suddenly that Ralsei almost didn’t believe it, Kris began to hum. It was soft, almost imperceptible. The ear that Kris was petting twitched slightly.
The tune was familiar, but not the deep-setting way the ambient music of the Darkworlds was. This tune didn’t belong in the deep. It was very clearly something distinctly bright.
Ralsei blinked, his droopy eyes lighting up in recognition. “That’s the tune from before, isn’t it? The song you made me play.”
Kris huffed out a laugh. “Got it stuck in my head.”
Ralsei smiled softly. “It’s a nursery rhyme, right? What are the lyrics?”
Kris cleared their throat, as their voice, raspy and gruff, began to sing. It wasn’t in tune, nor was it professional, but it was Kris’, and that was all that mattered.
“Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb.”
Ralsei shifted to his side, burying his muzzle into Kris’ leg. Kris’ hand shifted, lightly petting Ralsei’s cheek instead.
“Mary had a little lamb.”
Ralsei’s eyes fluttered closed, too heavy to open. Kris seemed to pause for a moment, listening, before continuing.
“Its fleece was white as snow.”
When Ralsei awoke, Kris was gone. His sleep-addled brain could piece that together. There was something soft in his arms. Blurrily, Ralsei could see the silhouette of his plushie. Ralsei pressed it closer. He wouldn’t mind staying here for just a bit longer.