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Castle Town embraced Susie. She descended in that lone ray of light to find seemingly the entire kingdom assembled and cheering her return, and their excitement only grew as she described her renovation plans. The work commenced at once, and proceeded smoothly, with an unprecedented level of cooperation; the town’s recruits had at this point been drawn out from a variety of different darknesses, and all sorts of gentle, petty rivalries and alliances had sprung up between factions, but for this task, everyone was united. Queen printed the materials, with her mouth, and provided directions, as she was printing the materials, with her mouth. Swatch interpreted Queen’s directions. Tasque Manager organized. The Swatchlings dusted. The Mizzles decorated. Lancer excavated. Jackenstein supervised. Roulxs Kaard was locked in a cupboard. Throughout all of this, Susie strode tall, and holiday cheer fell over Castle Town in her wake. Ralsei also trailed behind her, helping where he could, and otherwise smiled and stayed quiet, which were two things he did best.
Susie took a particular interest in Noelle’s room; having seen the genuine article, she had a clear idea of how to color the furniture, where to arrange the snowflakes, the placement of the pine tree. The subject of mistletoe was raised and Susie stammered a bit and decided to save it for another day. She insisted the fridge be stocked with water bottles in addition to the party platter and the gingerbread cookies – for whatever reason, Noelle couldn’t seem to get enough water.
Then it was complete, to everyone’s satisfaction. The Darkners dispersed to their usual haunts, ignoring a certain locked cupboard, and Ralsei invited Susie upstairs to his room. He’d prepared for this, clearing away the fluffy carpet in favor of a new tea table and a modest cookie assortment, and Susie thanked him, pulled up a chair, took a heaping plateful, and stopped and stared at him until he took some for himself. Then she happily obliterated three biscuits in a single bite.
“Hell of a day,” she said, gulping tea. “Ups and downs.”
“It was. But at least we finished on a high note.”
“Guess that’s the important part. Has me looking forward to tomorrow. I’m glad I got to see Noelle’s house for myself. That way I know she’s into all this Christmas crap for real.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate how thoughtful you’ve been,” said Ralsei.
“Yeah, well, this was the easy part. Next I gotta show her around the place without her thinking I’ve lost my damn mind.” She gestured airily. “Imagine me acting like some big fancy hostess.”
“We’ll all be there to help.”
“It’d just be nice if she could have somewhere to chill, you know? Like you said before.” Susie set the teacup down. “Maybe she doesn’t have to live here like we do, but for when her mom’s too much to deal with…”
“I understand what you mean,” said Ralsei. “You don’t have to worry, Susie. Staying here isn’t the same as hiding here. Heroes don’t run and hide, after all. But even heroes need to rest sometimes.”
Susie looked up sharply. “What? When did I— How’d you know that I…?”
Ralsei smiled and stayed quiet, until Susie coughed and glanced away, taking another cookie.
“Just be sure to eat when you’re in the Light World,” he said. “The food here is yummy, but it doesn’t really fill you up.”
“That’s nothing new. At least now I can chew on something tasty instead of, like, standing around and sniffing it. Or just looking at it ‘til someone tells me to piss off, haha.”
“Ha ha,” Ralsei repeated.
“We could talk Kris into sleeping over, too. Smush all the rooms together again.” Susie grinned. “Noelle’s house might be gigantic, but I bet it doesn’t come with that feature. Or her own personal toothpaste boy.”
Ralsei saw the opportunity, but wasn’t certain how to proceed from here. He hesitated long enough for Susie to notice.
“Uh, dude? You okay? You’re doing that scarf-twiddling thing.”
“Am I?” He stopped kneading his scarf between his claws. “I guess I was.”
“What’s up?” Susie’s posture was casual, but the grin was gone. Whatever Ralsei said next, she would listen to it closely. And while there were several things that he wanted to say, the only topic he could bring up now was the least consequential. Even if it did make him nervous.
“How do I put this.” He gripped the sides of his chair. “Susie, you know how Noelle’s a girl and Lancer’s a boy?”
“Yeah?”
“But then there’s Kris, who’s just… Kris.”
“They sure are. Ain’t nobody more Kris than them.”
“And I’m the prince of the dark. Or, um, toothpaste boy.”
“Peachboy,” Susie said, nodding.
“Right, that too. What I mean to say is, I’ve been thinking I could try to be something else, for a change. For a little while. Something more… Kris-like.”
Ralsei watched Susie process this, bracing himself. His foresight didn’t have anything to say about this development, and he somewhat expected that he’d have to maneuver around some awkward follow-up questions about why he wanted to act more flirtatious, or eat moss, or occasionally turn blue. But Susie just nodded again and reached for a fresh cookie.
“Oh yeah, sure,” she said. “That’s cool.”
“It’s cool?”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“You get it?”
“It’s like, before, you were a prince of the dork, and now you’re a dork of the dark.” She chomped the cookie, spraying crumbs, and grabbed another. “Easy.”
Ralsei looked down. They looked back up.
“That makes sense,” they said, “but I feel like it shouldn’t.”
“Damn, these things are good.” She pointed to Ralsei’s untouched plate. “Hurry up and eat yours, fuzzbutt, before I take ‘em away from you.”
Ralsei obligingly nibbled through their snacks as Susie drained the rest of the tea, and they both agreed the party was over. Susie rose, yawning, and shuffled out of the room with Ralsei close behind. They glanced over their shoulder. There on the windowsill was the doll that Kris had gifted to Susie in the computer lab’s Dark World. They could see its embroidered eyebrows, the gold rivet decoration in its belt. Ralsei blinked and the doll was gone, because it had never been there, and they closed the door and followed Susie downstairs.
Castle Town never truly slept, but the castle’s residents had been some of the most involved with the renovations, and it was clear that they’d been tuckered out. The usual cacophony that strained through most of the doors was absent. Lancer’s room had been discreetly moved upstairs and even he had apparently curled up in bed; a soft rhythmic honking could be heard as he caressed his bike in his sleep. Susie paused beside Noelle’s new room, moved on to her own, started to go in. Then she stopped at the threshold, and looked back to Ralsei.
“Hey,” she said. “You mind if I tell you something stupid?”
“Is this about putting cake frosting in your tea?” They’d overheard her discussing that with Lancer.
“What? No. I said it was stupid, not awesome.” She leaned against the doorframe. “I kind of had this trick for falling asleep. Before. Not really a trick. I’d just force myself to stay awake ‘til I crashed as soon as I laid down, no matter where it was. Since the spots weren’t always all that, um, comfortable. And it worked pretty good. Don’t even think I had dreams most of the time.” She turned back to the room, its spiky bed. “When I stayed here yesterday, it’s the first time in a while that I can remember getting…” There were a number of complicated twitches in her face as she searched frantically for the next word, then a look of resignation. “Snuggly.”
Ralsei smiled and stayed quiet. In that silence, Susie’s scales darkened a shade or two.
“The point is,” she said, “you better have some real damn good soundproofing in this place, ‘cause I bet I’m gonna snore loud enough to shake the walls.”
“Don’t worry about it,” they said. “Goodnight, Susie.”
“Alright. I won’t.” She reached out and lightly noogied them. “G’night, Ralsei.”
She closed the door. Its latch clicked, and then the corridor was silent. The torch sconces' deep blue flames illumined Ralsei as they lingered there. They cast no true shadow – even in the strongest light, it was never anything more than shapeless, boiling static. This was one more thing about themself that their friends had either never noticed or accepted without issue.
They padded away in the direction of the foyer, down the stairs. They stopped halfway and sat on the step, carefully removed their glasses, set them aside, and covered their face with their hands. For a time, the breath that strained out between their fingers was shuddering and broken. Then they wiped their eyes with their sleeve, stood up, replaced their glasses, and continued to the foyer.
The cauldron was back in its old place and the torchlight glinted off its iron belly; Ralsei stepped around it and stood before the grand door with its six-winged heart insignia, normally sealed tight. It was behind this seal, and several other precautions, that the Grand Fountain lay. There had been a time when this kingdom stood empty and Ralsei spent indistinct hours standing before it and staring into the heart of that seething coruscating dark.
Ralsei raised a hand. The heart carved into the doorway began to burn black.
Then came a soft tapping from behind them. Ralsei’s hand dropped and they turned to see a figure in the doorway, ragged and motheaten and leaning against a staff that was gnarled as a treeroot. The cauldron’s glow glinted off Seam’s button eye and pooled in their empty socket as they limped around the foyer.
“Am I interrupting?” they asked. The cottony rasp of their voice echoed strangely off the stones.
“Not at all.” Ralsei folded their hands behind their back. “It’s nice to see you out and about.”
“I wanted to avoid the commotion, but couldn’t help but be curious about the work you’d all done. You’ve gathered some lively subjects, Prince.” Seam paused, the holes in their button eye swiveling. “Aha. Perhaps ‘Monarch’ would be more appropriate.”
“How did you…?”
“I can’t see as far as you can, but it’s hard for me not to notice something right before my eye.” They rapped the ground with their staff and the stones flowed upward into a straight-backed chair glossy as marble. “I’d say the title suits you, but you’d know better. As you’re the one who chose it.”
Seam sat down. Their robe and pelt were so threadworn that it seemed a marvel this simple movement didn’t split them apart; loose filaments formed a sort of corona around their frame. They settled into the chair like someone who didn’t intend to rise anytime soon.
“It’s an indulgence, that’s all,” said Ralsei. “I can already sense that the prophecy doesn’t care.”
“There’s nothing wrong with change. Even if it doesn’t change anything. Take the two of us here and now, for example. I’m sure that you can see it as well. Beyond the peripheries.” Their staff tapped the ground, jabbed up at the ceiling. “The symbols have shifted, haven’t they? And yet we’re still constrained by the same angles.”
Ralsei said nothing. Seam’s eyesocket distended, and then they grinned.
“Your face… hee hee. I’m irritating you, aren’t I?”
“I’ve had about all I can take of this sort of conversation for one day.”
“My apologies. I was going over the crystals you’ve collected, and couldn’t help but reminisce about an old friend. It’s got me talking like him.” They sighed. “Nostalgia, eh? The refuge of the hopeless.”
“Comforting certainties,” Ralsei muttered.
“Indeed. Though maybe that’s not correct, either. A refuge is somewhere you hide from danger. If you’ve lost all hope then the danger has passed. Leaving only the devastation that it promises.” They glanced upward. “And how is our newest resident?”
Ralsei regarded the cauldron. They went over to it and flicked it with one claw, producing a thin, high note and a ripple of sparks that swirled across its depths, reflected off their glasses. The first time they’d been able to properly use the thing, they recalled how Susie had scarfed down the cake they’d made from it, trying to downplay the flavor even as she’d licked frosting from her fingers. All this had happened.
“She’s sleeping soundly tonight,” they said.
“Tonight.”
“Yes.”
“I gather you’re praying for more.”
“Some part of you must be frustrated by all of this as well, Seam. We try to make Lightners happy, but it seems all we can do is cushion the blow.”
“Well, you and I are rather squishy,” Seam replied. “Ideal for cushioning.”
“You really have been thinking of Jevil too much.”
“I envied him for a long time, you know. The perspective he’d gained. I could only look upon what he saw for a moment, ever so fleeting, before I had to turn away.” Their hand brushed their eyesocket. “Often I wondered what could have been, if I’d the strength to match his insight. Perhaps what I gained could have made up for what I’d lost.”
“Hope, you mean,” said Ralsei. “For someone who’s lost it, you’ve become rather invested in Kris’s search for the crystals.”
Seam tilted in their seat, ears twitching. “Fascinating, isn’t it? I suppose that even if you’ve quit the game, you can find some value in watching how the rest of it plays out. This warmth inside my cotton, this anticipation and terror, it finds its way back to me with every new shard, however much I try to smother it.”
“You said you changed your mind about Jevil. That was because of Kris?”
“Oh, no. It’s because of you. Watching you, your struggles and prayers, your self-indulgent transformations… it reminded me of how hard it can be to see in the dark. I’d thought Jevil seemed so joyous with all he had learned. How far he could see. But in the shadows, joy and pain appear rather similar, don’t they?” Seam paused, then spoke softer. “The sun has set, little monarch. But let’s keep our eyes open. I suspect we’ll have our fill of joy and pain both, before it’s all through.”
Ralsei regarded the stairs, where they had led Susie away from Castle Town after their journey through the church. After turning down their invitation to stay. She’d playfully grinded her knuckles against their head and put on her bravest grin before entering the light, and they’d watched her ascend. This had never happened.
They said, “It’s not as though we have—”
Then they felt a new ripple in the shadows. Something piercing the sky. They snapped in the direction of the kingdom’s entrance, wide-eyed, and Seam raised their head as well.
“Well now,” Seam said. “A star is falling.”
“They’re here tonight? But that’s not…” They looked to Seam. “I have to go.”
“Yes, you do. I’ll make my own way out, don’t worry.”
Ralsei scampered off, but Seam stayed a while longer, and even when they got up, it was with some reluctance. Their stitches flexed and gaped, and the chair they’d conjured melted back into the stones. They playfully waved a hand over the cauldron and it spat out an assortment of shapes, hearts and diamonds, and then turned away and tottered back to their shop.
* * *
In the section of Castle Town that spread out before Ralsei’s castle, the neverending party continued, although tonight it was certainly at low ebb, the recruits having spent much of their manic energy on the decorations. That wasn’t even getting into the other “districts” – Castle Town was far, far bigger than it looked at first glance, the Grand Fountain crafting all surrounding darkness into that storybook facsimile of a town that Kris and Susie had first stumbled upon, its buildings slumped and vacant and strangely melancholy in their muted shades. The recruits had arrived at this section and filled it with life and color, but Ralsei couldn’t begin to guess at how many Darkners it would take to fill this place to capacity, or if such a thing were possible. The Fountain’s darkness never ceased flowing, after all.
Ralsei patrolled the square often, keeping their mind off other things by making friends with the recruits. While the Darkners didn’t show them much deference – not a surprise, considering their fluffy frame wasn’t exactly the picture of authority – they’d gotten along with almost everyone, and so tonight they had to hastily smile and wave at a few of them as they pattered over to the Dark World’s entrance. Ralsei must have let their patience slip, because one Pippins approached them with three cups and a calculating smirk, caught a glimpse of Ralsei’s face, and then stopped in their tracks and tried to hide behind a Rabbick with limited success.
In the distance, they could see it. The silhouette in the light, the glint of their armor. Kris was here. It hadn’t been expected, but then, they seldom were.
Ralsei’s existence was plagued by certainty. The prophecy shone brilliantly in their mind, always, drowning whatever else they did, whoever else they tried to be. But another light strained against that one, inexplicable but no less fearsome – if they focused, they could see Kris wreathed in it, the shine that scrambled their foresight. Kris was marked by the prophecy and walked its path no different than the rest of them, but Ralsei still believed that if any divergence from it could be found, then it was in the trail Kris might blaze.
As for what that trail might look like, they had no idea. Kris did many things they didn’t understand. There were many things about Kris that Ralsei didn’t, couldn’t, understand, consumed as they were by the light that pulsed in their heart. Sometimes that lack of understanding gnawed at Ralsei until they felt sick. Despite this, they hoped for the best, and some of those hopes had borne out recently. How Kris had held Ralsei among the shards of the prophecy’s glass, or sank into the flower castle’s baths and murmured about happy endings through the steam. All this, as their quest continued to erode them. Kris found their way into Ralsei’s prayers for more reasons than one.
Now they had found their way down here again, in the teeth of the evening, long after they should have gone to rest for whatever lay in wait tomorrow. They stood at the kingdom’s border as if they’d been nailed in place there. Ralsei got into their usual clasped-hand posture and walked up to them, their inchoate shadow and Kris's mundane one blending together.
“Good evening, Kris!” they said. “I thought you would have gone home by now.”
Kris said that they had. They said that their mother thought they were in bed.
“Well, at least she knows you’re okay,” Ralsei said. “Susie’s already fast asleep, I think. But if you wanted to relax here, we’d be happy to show you what she did with the place. Everyone worked really hard.”
Kris said that they could see that tomorrow. They’d have to see it tomorrow.
Ralsei’s smile slipped, and they glanced over their shoulder. For an instant they saw Castle Town’s main square drained and vacant as its periphery, but then they focused and it was back to how it should have been, a bedecked riot of color. They looked back to Kris, who still hadn’t moved.
“You’d have some trouble avoiding it, I think. We might have gone a little over the top. Is there something else you wanted to do?”
Kris said they wanted to go somewhere quiet. Somewhere far away, Kris said.
“Far away? But still in the kingdom?” Behind their back, Ralsei’s claws had started to dig into their palm. “Well, there are the empty parts of town. Not much to do there, but no distractions either.”
Kris said that would be enough.
“Okay. I hope you don’t mind if I come along. I was trying to take a break myself.”
Kris didn’t say anything to that, but they raised one gauntleted hand, palm-up: after you. Obligingly, Ralsei turned and padded off, Kris’s footsteps clanking softly behind them.
Ralsei kept their head down, eyes on the cobbles. They’d grown accustomed to the way Castle Town would shift in the corners of their vision – going from empty to full and back again, its main attractions blinking in and out like marquee signs – but it could be disorienting and they didn’t want Kris to notice. It might raise questions they weren’t fully prepared to answer just yet. So on they walked, until music behind them faded and was replaced entirely by the rhythmic jingle-jangle of Kris’s sabatons. Their posture was straight-backed, mouth in a neutral line. They didn’t look at anything in particular.
They stopped at a street that was like countless others in this sketchbook swath of the kingdom. The cobbles underfoot seemed to be the only solid thing about it – there were houses here, but every door was sealed shut and the buildings’ dimensions were queasy. Their windows showed an impression of rooms within, they had alleys and awnings and stoops, but if one looked at them from a certain angle then they become flat as cloth. Above these meager rooftops, Ralsei’s castle loomed, the Grand Fountain a scratch of deeper dark against the black skies. It ensured they could find their way back no matter how much they wandered.
“Here we are,” Ralsei said. “Is this far enough?”
Kris said that it was.
“Okay. That’s good.”
Ralsei rocked back and forth a bit on their paws. They resisted the urge to hum anxiously. This was part of their kingdom, but they could feel the emptiness of it coiling around them. No sound except a low and irregular drone, like distant wind.
“It all keeps expanding. We could recruit ten times the Darkners we have already and it wouldn’t develop the kingdom anywhere close to here,” they said. “But it’s okay. The Fountain is safe. It’s just… doing what it does.”
Kris said that meant the Fountain was the same as them. The same as all of them.
“I suppose so.”
Kris’s gaze was fixed on some distant alley. Ralsei craned their head, tried to see what they saw, but there was only the blue-tinted dark, the same dark that twinkled in Kris’s armor and nestled on their blue-tinted skin. They tugged their scarf, averted their eyes.
“Kris, please don’t be upset with Susie,” they said. “She cares for you as much as she ever did. She cares about all of us. In a way, she’s not too different from this place. She wants to take everything she cherishes and keep it safe, in herself. You and I are a part of that. The same as Noelle.”
Kris said nothing.
“This world will remain open to you, too. Whenever you need some relief.” They leaned over. “That said, I understand that the main square can be a little, er, overstimulating sometimes. Maybe I could put a piano in your room? Or anywhere. No one would have to watch you play. You could do it just for yourself.”
Kris said that the first piano they’d seen had been their father’s. Small and simple and lacquered wood. They said that their father often had trouble playing it because of the size of his hands, that he would play slow, brushing the keys with his fingertips only. Kris said that their own hands had been too small when they’d started but it didn’t take long before they could play better.
“Oh? Oh, Kris, that sounds wonderful! Thank you for sharing that with me!”
Kris said that piano had gone when their father had left home. They said the carpet was brighter in the spot where it once stood and nothing ever replaced it. Kris said that they would play the one in the hospital for a while afterward but whenever their hands lay on the keys they would remember the bright patch of carpet until they stopped.
“Oh. I’m… I’m sorry to hear that. But, Kris, you can make new memories. And your dad will be all right. We’ll save—"
Kris said the memories stayed with them everywhere. They said that they would play with their brother and Noelle’s sister with their families all watching and then all of them had gone and Kris could feel them watching still. They could only play alone and eventually that wasn’t enough either because even when they were alone they could feel everyone watching.
“Kris, you don’t have to talk so—”
Kris said that when they played at the church it had been the first time they’d tried in a long time and their hands had felt wrong. They said that no matter how much everyone praised them their best days might have been over and even if they played again they didn’t believe they could play well.
“Kris—”
Kris said that when they ate their mother’s cooking they remembered all the times they’d eaten it before and how the faces at the table changed across those times. Kris said they had grown so accustomed to their brother’s camera lens that sometimes they still saw it in the corner of their eye. Kris said that when they helped their father with gardening they would often pull up the flowers along with the weeds. Kris said they remembered every pencil they had taken. Kris said they could no longer remember the difference between feeling sick and feeling scared. Kris said it was easy to make other people laugh because they were never thinking about it very hard. Kris said that even their hiding places had grown too small. Kris said they felt sick every time the phone rang. Kris said it was important to answer the phone. Kris said the last time they could have told their brother they would miss him was when he’d taken their picture at the lake but it had been a good picture so they had smiled and stayed quiet and let the memory stay. Kris said they still weren’t hungry. Kris said that this shouldn’t have been difficult because most of what they had was borrowed anyway Kris said that they had practiced with different kinds of seeds and the taste was always bitter Kris said they had tried never to ask for anything Kris said that being sorry didn’t mean anything Kris said they had asked her to stop Kris said it wouldn’t be much longer and it shouldn’t take long after that Kris said their mother had been happy last night Kris said Noelle had been happy this afternoon Kris said Susie had been happy with Kris said Noelle was happier with Kris said the rasp of Susie’s laughter was Kris said that way Noelle still glanced over at them was Kris said Susie leaning into them in the mirror was Kris said Noelle’s constant peppermint smell was Kris said the weight of Susie’s coat draped over them was Kris said the way Noelle had learned to sing was Kris said Susie’s fingers running through their hair was Kris said Noelle’s fingers clutching at their arm was Kris said Susie lit in the smothered moon at the lake was Kris said Noelle’s outline in the sun through the classroom window was Kris said Noelle and Susie’s outline in the sun from the water off the lake was Kris said their conjoined outline in the glittering sunlight reflected off the lake was Kris said the rasp of Susie’s laughter and Noelle draped over her in the glittering late afternoon sunlight reflected off the lake was
And that was what Kris said
And that was how Kris said
And that was why Kris said
And that was when K r i s s a i d
*
They lay on their side in glittering blue darkness. Splayed fingers, gasping breath. The cobblestones underneath and around them now had become clear as cut ice, the buildings bleached and translucent. A thin spittle was at the corner of their mouth and they wiped it away with their mantle and got up. Their legs were weak and their chest burned, but they got up. No longer did they blend into the background of this place; their bleary reflection surrounded them, in the facets of this transfigured swath of the kingdom. The bright bright light had spilled forth and everything it pierced had been shorn of definition and substance. None of this had been intended.
Ralsei was nowhere to be seen. Kris called out Ralsei’s name. They cried Ralsei’s name. The bright light could be glimpsed in the back of their burning throat and their eyes burned bright enough that their reflections drifted through the glassy street like castoff sparks. They stumbled and dropped to one knee, a hand against their breastplate. The metal had been clawed into a craze of silvery scratchmarks. Hair-thin cracks of red glowed against their skin. It had not been intended.
“Kris! I’m here!”
Ralsei was here. They were approaching now, floating over the stones which had already begun to dissolve. They appeared unhurt but Kris still asked if they were all right as they settled to the ground in front of them.
“I’m fine. I’m all right. See?”
Kris saw. Ralsei’s face was taut with concern but they were otherwise unharmed. The light hadn’t reached them.
Around the two of them, the buildings had also started to sag; angles smoothed and rooftops bent, all returning to dark water. Water wicked through Ralsei’s robe as they dropped to one knee and cradled the side of Kris’s head. They saw their eyes reflected in Ralsei’s glasses.
Kris said that they were sorry. I’m sorry. They said.
“It’s okay. No one should have heard us, but the light…” They looked to the Fountain as if for guidance, and then back to Kris, speaking low. “We need to go somewhere else. Would you be able to do that? Go somewhere else?”
Kris said yes.
Yes. That’s enough.
* That’s enough. *
Ralsei helped carry them until they were able to walk. There was a gap in Castle Town now like a pulled tooth; the ambient darkness would repair it in time, but for now they’d gotten clear of it and settled to rest at another anonymous stretch of deserted street, slumping against one of the empty houses. Ralsei reached out to Kris, paused, and when they nodded then Ralsei gently ran one claw over the scratchmarks in their breastplate. They winced at how the claw snagged; the scratches were quite deep.
“Does it hurt anywhere?” they asked.
“I’m fine,” said Kris.
Ralsei gave them a look, then sighed and laid their palm against Kris’s chest. A soft green corona enveloped them and faded away.
“Better?” Ralsei asked.
“A little,” Kris admitted, and they didn’t sound as hoarse.
“Good. That’s good.”
They stayed like that in silence, seated with backs against the wall. Kris’s hair had come more disheveled than usual; they pulled it away from their eyes, watching the Fountain’s pulse.
“How much of that did you understand?” they asked.
“It turned to noise pretty quickly. And I ran away when I saw what was happening. I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything to stop it. By the time I realized…”
“My fault,” said Kris. “I didn’t check the cage's latch. Before bed.”
“Oh.”
“Next time I’ll tape it shut.” They paused. “You said Susie was asleep?”
“She was ready to go to bed last time I saw her.”
“You didn’t add windows or anything to those rooms, did you?”
“No. There’s no way she could have seen. Or heard.”
“I guess that’s something. Unless the others get curious.”
“I’m still happy you came here, Kris,” said Ralsei. “You’re always welcome to visit, whenever you want. You know that, right?”
“What I know and what I want have nothing to do with this.”
And for that, Ralsei could offer no argument, at least not one that Kris would accept. They fell silent, until Kris glanced over.
“Something else you'd like to say?” they asked.
“What? Why do you think that?”
“Scarf.”
Ralsei glanced down and saw they had knotted it around their hands, then groaned and shook it loose. This was one more thing they’d learned about themself – at first they’d maintained that clasped-hand pose because they thought it made them look regal, but it turned out their hands betrayed them in a heartbeat if Ralsei didn’t keep them occupied.
“I wasn’t sure how to tell you this,” Ralsei said. “Or when. Now’s as good a time as any.”
“What is it?”
“There was a night when Susie didn’t stay in the Dark World,” they said. “Last night, I mean.” Kris looked away from the Fountain, perplexed. “She came here after leaving your mother’s house. We talked, in my room. It was still empty then. She even lent me her doll, before she said goodnight and returned to the Light World. I think she was trying to be brave. Not that she isn’t brave already. But the truth is that none of it happened.” They met Kris’s eye. “There are moments you could have chosen one thing or the other. Said this, walked there. The prophecy doesn’t care about most of them, even if they shift things around a little. The traces they leave fade away into the dark. I’ve been glimpsing those traces, lately. Lines and vectors. Echoes and shadows.” They tried to smile. “Castle Town keeps changing in the corner of my eye. Sometimes I’m a little worried I’ll get lost.”
“You see this all the time?”
“Not always. It’s like a dust mote, floating on top of your vision. And I’m handling it either way. It’s nothing I’m not used to.” They laid their palm on the ground between them. “What I’m saying is, you don’t have to worry about this… diversion… interfering with anything. It’ll be just another vector. That’s all.”
Kris didn’t drop their gaze. It was different when they were this way – oblique, wary, heavy-lidded. They either looked like they were about to fall asleep or bracing for someone to hit them.
“And you still think our choices matter?” they asked. No judgment in their voice. Perhaps the faintest edge of curiosity.
“If you’d asked me that when we first met, I would have said yes,” Ralsei replied. “Without hesitating.”
“And now you wouldn’t.”
“No. But maybe that matters, in its own way?” Ralsei clutched at themself, staring at their knees. “The prophecy is a part of me, the same as we’re all a part of it. I’d thought it was all there was, so the only way out was trying to change it. Now it’s becoming clear there’s still so much I don’t know yet. That I can’t see yet. If the paths we’re taking… these self-indulgent choices… are part of the prophecy’s final shape, then that means I still haven’t seen the whole thing.” They pressed a palm to their own chest, the black heart embroidered onto their robe. “Kris. Being around you… is changing me, too. There’s something taking shape inside me, too. I’m not sure what it is. Or even if I like how it looks. But until it’s finished, and I can see it fully, I have to believe.”
Kris regarded them a moment longer, and then went back to watching the Fountain.
“Our happy ending,” they said.
“Yes. I hope so.”
“Susie told me what hers would be. At the church Fountain. Yesterday the same as tomorrow, for as long as tomorrow would last. I’ve heard that before.” They’d started lightly scratching their breastplate again, a rhythmic metallic hiss. “You don’t have many of those, do you. Yesterdays. So what would it look like for you?”
The scrape of metal on metal marked off the seconds. Ralsei adjusted their glasses with a trembling hand. They’d thought of the answer to this question, of course. The words were another matter.
“We keep meeting people who, um, like each other a lot, don’t we Kris?” No answer except the scraping. “And all of them talk about what that means, or what it shouldn’t mean. All I know so far is, everything we’ve seen, from all of those people… I don’t want anything like that. Yet. I wouldn’t know what to do with it. I just think about getting up in the morning. Making breakfast. Going for a walk. Going through the day. And every now and then, you and I would see each other. Crossing paths, or headed to the same place. Sometimes we might sit down and talk for a while. Maybe even until the day is over. And sometimes days might pass where we never see each other at all, but that would be all right, because I know you’d be around anyway, nearby, and it wouldn’t be too long before we could see each other again. Right now, that’s what a happy ending means. A place where I could be there for you. Where you could be there with me.” They forced themself to look over to Kris. “It’s not so much to ask, right? If we could have that?”
Kris’s hand had gone still. Their head was raised up to the Fountain, but now there was a slight tension to their back, an attentiveness, that suggested they were gazing into that blackness rather than merely gazing at it. As if they were studying its pattern for a glimpse of the dream that Ralsei had just shared, mapping its territory. When Kris turned back to them, Ralsei almost thought they could see it reflected in their eye.
Kris said, “But we can’t, Ralsei.”
There wasn’t any cruelty in it. They were only describing the world as it was. After a long moment, Ralsei nodded, and looked away.
“I understand,” they said. “The dark does this, too. When the light runs low and you’re not sure what you can see, anything seems possible. Then the sun rises, and it’s all the same as it ever was, and whatever you hoped for has to be put aside. But, Kris. The night never ends here.” They clasped their hands. “So I’ll try my best, to go on hoping. For all of us.”
They could feel Kris watching them for a little while longer, and then that sensation left, and it was only the two of them and the senseless murmuring wind.
“It’s a long walk back,” said Ralsei. “We should go soon, Kris. So that you can rest.”
“All right.”
“But, um. Before we do. I did want to ask for a favor.”
“Go ahead.”
“It’s a little embarrassing, so if you’re not interested, then I won’t be—”
“Ralsei,” they said wearily.
“Sorry. It’s just that it’s been a long day, for both of us, and I’ve had it on my mind for a while, even though it’s something I do all the time myself, maybe this was different because of just the context, I don’t know, so it’s partly because I want to make sure, and…” They swallowed hard. “Could you hold me? Like you did at the church.”
Kris didn’t answer. When they planted their palms on the cobblestones and started to rise with a grunt and a clattering of metal, Ralsei was sure they would get to their feet and simply walk off toward the fountain without another word. Instead they pushed themself up to one knee and stared at them expectantly. Ralsei gave them one last, shaky smile, mirrored their position, and embraced them. A second later, Kris’s arms closed over them, too.
When this had happened in the church – Ralsei knelt amidst the shards of that fatal glass, tears turning pink as they coursed down the stain on their cheek – Kris’s hug had been brief, feather-light, little more than an arm limply draped over Ralsei’s shoulder. The sensation had nevertheless been seismic for them. Now Kris’s hands cradled the back of their neck and the small of their back, chin on their shoulder, pressure and warmth.
“You’re really holding on tight,” Ralsei marveled.
“I’m out of practice.”
“It’s all right. Please don’t let go.”
The seconds ticked by. Ralsei closed their eyes and nuzzled against the fabric of Kris’s mantle. Then Kris spoke again, their breath tickling Ralsei’s ear.
“Ralsei. When I did this before, was there something else that I could have done?”
Ralsei told the truth. “Yes. There was.”
They were resigned to the next question, and how it would doubtless be the end of this moment between them. But perhaps Kris knew already, because instead they tensed, and then pulled Ralsei in closer still. When they finally let each other go, and wordlessly traipsed through these purposeless and barren neighborhoods, to the entrance where Kris cast a long look back at Ralsei before they let the ray of light consume them – when Ralsei watched Kris ascend and then returned to the castle, to pray fervently that the terrible sequence that filled their mind was only a fragment of something better – Ralsei remembered that feeling. Kris’s unpracticed arms holding them so tightly that for a moment it had seemed they were joined together, Ralsei’s heart beating against the armor that encased Kris’s own.
* Calibrating. *
The teeth of the evening had long since closed over Hometown. It was well past midnight when Kris stepped out of the school, and not a thing stirred save for the leaves and pennants waving weakly in the breeze. Nevertheless, the shadows, deep as they may have been, were mundane compared to the ones they had just left behind. Kris walked down the stairs and through the front lot, and when they entered the streets proper, they did not turn to look at the long dark path leading to the shelter before they continued on.
The neighborhood was rendered uncanny by the abandoned decorations strewn across it. Debris from the tragedy, the unexpected and inevitable tragedy, that had struck as they’d lain across the picnic table and watched those silhouettes gamboling in the sunlight reflected off the lake. Its aftermath would make itself fully known in a matter of hours, and this anxiety had kept Kris awake after they’d returned home, tossing and turning, electrified through their exhaustion. In their restlessness they hadn’t noticed the spark that slipped out from the birdcage – courtesy of a latch that had distended from their rough treatment of it earlier that morning – and hovered over them until its light painted their face. They were resolved to secure the birdcage in a more permanent fashion from now on, which was reasonable. The consequences of this excursion had not been intended.
The hospital lights were on, and Kris gave them a wide berth as they crossed the street. They continued with only the briefest glance at the abandoned Ferris wheel. All of this would be dismantled before the end of the school day, leaving behind the usual imprints – filled trashcans, churned earth. It might take longer before the anyone commented on the locked doors and darkened windows of the flower shop. Even after all they had learned, Kris was surprised as how readily Hometown pulled itself back together after loss. Everything the same, if a bit emptier than before, and the ones left behind stepping around that emptiness.
Kris reached the final intersection – the black gate of the Holiday manor, the dirt path to the lake, and their home and bed. Not a single window was lit; everyone else had gone to sleep. Nothing prevented them from returning home. There was no compulsion for them to choose any path other than the one that led back to their home.
Kris turned and went right, towards the lake.
The scuffing of their shoes on pavement trailed behind them. There was nothing to see this way, and no reason for them not to turn around and go back home, but Kris continued regardless. They didn’t look at the flower shop, or at the carts where their father’s unsold product gently wilted. Pavement gave way to earth.
Here on the lakeside path, there was also nothing to see. Kris didn’t see several things: Susie curled up beneath one of the picnic tables, a sheet of cardboard spread over the tabletop to catch the rain; their father seated at another table, hands folded, smiling vacantly, heedless to the rain that dewed his hair and dripped into his open eyes; Kris and their brother splayed out at the lakeshore, hands clasped, watching the sky; a disheveled silhouette looming at the end of the path, hair blowing loose around antlers that jutted like antennas to heaven. None of this was there. There was nothing here, and nothing to be scared of in the dark – at least, in this dark, on this night.
Echoes and shadows, Ralsei had said, and they had not been wrong. But an echo could still be heard. A shadow could still lay across one’s path. Nothing was ever fully sealed away.
Kris stepped onto the beach, its thin and gritty mud crunching under their soles. They knelt down and untied their shoes and slipped them off, removed their socks and tucked them into their shoes. They rolled up their pantlegs and stretched out, and let the black water lap at their bare feet. It was bitterly cold, but there they stayed, looking first at the bare patch of ground beside them, and then out over the water, the darkness veiling the silent, distant shore.
It was the end of another long night, and the next would be longer. Most of those who slept did so uneasily as their thoughts of the future gnawed at their dreams. Some stayed awake through their weariness, as Kris was, and others prayed for those sleeping, as Ralsei did; their sentiments were carried on the dark, purposeless and precious. To all of you, who remain cherished above and below. You seal each other against each other. You shut your doors so tightly. And yet, despite everything, the love still leaks through. It leaks, and it leaks, and it leaks.