Work Text:
Seth scratched out the last sentence they'd written. Looking over the whole page, they realized they'd actually scratched out the entire last paragraph. Their fingers twitched, and they dropped their inky quill involuntarily. It had been a long night of furious writing, and it had amounted to nothing. They cursed under their breath; it had been unusual before, but now, they could hardly stop themselves from swearing. They were just glad Aqua wasn't around to hear it.
They stood up, took their stack of papers, and spread it across the desk, undoing the previous hard work they'd done organizing it. Their handwriting had never improved the way they'd hoped, and it was hard to make out information at a glance, but they couldn't think of any better option than to glance across all the pages and hope to find some sort of correlation.
It was all that they'd been doing for the last few months. They looked again at the top of the stack: day 137. A few weeks ago, they realized that they'd accidentally skipped a day, so they knew the number to be most certainly inaccurate, but it was close enough. Four months, plus change. They walked over to the window, gazing out at the sky. The violet sun struggled to push through the inky blots amidst the clouds, casting only the subtlest haze across the landscape. If it weren't for their lamps, they wouldn't be able to work at all.
They thought back to the first day. The day that the Dark World was created. It had originally been Kris' plan; a few days prior, they came into the shop, whispering to the flowers about what they were going to do. If Seth and the others would keep the Lightners busy long enough, they'd be able to keep their Dark Fountain forever. Seth didn't fully understand the plan, but Kris had assured them that it was the only way to avoid the destruction of the world, and that it would let them repay their debts to Asgore.
It was perfect, until it wasn't. Seth pinched themselves. Every time they thought about it, it felt more painful. Their only contribution to the Kingdom was their intellect, and yet they could never have predicted what would happen.
For many hours, the flowers waited; they were but barely cognizant of their surroundings, but the dreams that Kris had instilled within them gave them hope. Kris never arrived. Instead, the Knight came, creating a Dark World, snatching Asgore, and leaving as quickly as they'd arrived. It happened so suddenly that the flowers hardly had a chance to meet one another before their dreams were crushed.
It had affected them all differently. Flowery was destroyed, completely. The only thing he had to live for was Asgore, and his purpose was removed so swiftly that he never got to meet him. Yellow blamed himself, and Blue took on the emotional burden of supporting him. The rest were never as emotional, but Seth could tell it weighed on them the same.
As hard as they were on themselves for missing the signs, Seth never gave up. Rather than wallow in misery, they occupied the study they'd built for Asgore and got to work. They had compiled hundreds of papers, including all of the information they'd ever learned about Asgore, Kris, the Knight, or even Ralsei, the destined Prince who had never come. The other flowers contributed some, but it was mostly a task taken alone.
At times, Seth felt spiteful about how little they had been able to help, or even how few times they'd shown that they'd cared. They dug their fingers into their palms now, looking out at that occluded sun. They considered closing the blinds. The light was nigh useless, and the view had already distracted them enough, but they felt like they needed to remember what had happened. They wouldn't be able to go on otherwise. About a month into their World, Seth had lost it, yelling and screaming about how little any of them had been able to do when the Knight had come. Flowery didn't even argue back. He flew away, and none of them saw him again for a week. When he finally reappeared, all the other flowers were so happy to see him. Strangely, he had returned to his sickeningly sweet, saccharine self, the way he'd been before.
Afterwards, Seth had mostly locked themselves away. The others couldn't understand them, and didn't seem to want to, either. They had all resigned themselves to filling in their duties, reenacting their dreams without thought to the world around them. They were like mice in a maze, Seth thought, repeating the same paths day after day and hoping that the scientists would never change where they put the cheese. At times, they even overheard them talking about Kris and Asgore as if they were still coming, as if their promised day would still arrive. Flowery even still rehearsed his monologues.
Seth recalled one night, when Aqua had knocked on their door. She had sounded so sweet.
"Uuu, Seth! Play with us! Play with us!"
It reminded them of those brief hours when they'd had dreams together. Aqua still had hers, but Seth couldn't indulge it. It would be wrong. They tightened the lock on the door and looked out the peephole, waiting until she walked away. The frown on her face broke their heart. For the briefest moment, they considered leaving, joining her, maybe even abandoning their work. It would've made the both of them happy. Instead, they walked away.
Now, they picked up a piece of paper, one that they'd stuck to the wall with a tack. The original sheet on which they'd worked out their equations. They'd enlisted the Floradinns to take daily measurements of the vibrance of the seven suns, hoping to find some pattern in them. At first, they identified small, stochastic shifts from day to day, with some shades brighter than others. A month in, however, it changed. They didn't even notice at first, but once they did, the pattern was obvious.
The brightness of the suns was diminishing over time. Not consistently; sometimes, they would glow brighter than they ever had, and it was different for each. Yet it was clear, unmistakable, if you knew what to look for. Not everyone did. A little while before the time that the golden sun was predicted to dawn for the last time, they revealed their analysis to Flowery. It took some time to build up the courage; no matter how kindly he acted towards them, they knew it must be a ruse. He had to resent them for what they'd said and done. Still, it wasn't long before the guilt overtook them and they felt the necessity of warning him.
"F-Flowery!" They'd been trying to reach him for hours, but he had avoided them, seemingly unintentionally. He had many tasks to attend to each day, and never lingered long in one place. As he floated through the air between spots in the Kingdom, Seth ran after him, but they weren't fast enough.
Luckily, he'd heard them this time. "Yes, Seth?" He stopped his flying and slowly descended to the ground. As Seth looked up at him they had to clench their eyes, as the sunlight behind him was too blinding. It was too difficult to make out his face, but they saw a glimmer of a smile on his expression. "Need something?"
"I-..." Seth nervously grabbed at the mass of papers that they'd brought with them. In their mad dash to catch up with Flowery, many had been dispersed to the floor around them, and even the ones they still held had been displaced, thrown out of order. "See, I've been running the numbers on suns' brightnesses."
Flowery nodded. "That's way past cool. You wanted to show me?" He kneeled down on one knee next to Seth, bringing him to eye level with them.
They couldn't tell if his tone was patronizing or genuine, but they never could. It certainly sounded tired; they couldn't imagine doing as much each day as he did, especially not with all the socializing. Then again, he was built for that. "It's not just research. It's, well, there's some really bad news."
He just smiled back. As if it hadn't registered to Flowery at all. "So, what's up with news?"
Seth's palms were sweating, almost bleeding into the pages and ruining their ink, and their speech quickened. "They're darkening. Each time they rise, they're less and less bright, and--"
Flowery chuckled, then extended an arm and patted Seth on the head. "Oh, Sethy. Don't worry about it. Leaf it be."
They shook their head, throwing his arm off of them. "You don't get it! T-this could have really, really bad consequences!!" The papers scattered on the ground as they threw their arms up and dropped them. "We could... we... it could be the end of us."
He didn't respond at first, instead standing up and spreading his arms. After a moment, he whispered back. "Don't worry about it."
"W-what??" Seth jumped up and down, huffing and puffing. "With no sunlight, we won't survive!"
Flowery shook his head. "If that's how it's meant to be, that's how it's meant to be."
He walked off without even saying goodbye to Seth. They wanted to follow, but they didn't bother; they needed to pick up their work, anyway.
Seth paraded the results around, begged Blue and everyone sensible just to do something about it, but they didn't know what to do, and so they ignored it. Denied the results. As if sticking their heads in the sand would change the reality of the situation. Orange and Aqua were more willing to believe Seth, but they had no ideas to contribute, nor were they keenly focused on the issue. So Seth locked themselves away even further. It made them sick, listening to the others pretend like the end wasn't coming. It got harder and harder to coax the Floradinns into helping them, and eventually, they resolved to take the measurements themselves, which ate up a lot of their day. Some particularly juvenile Darkners had even taken to messing with their work, believing them to be an irate conspiracy theorist.
In their own words, as they recalled writing, it had made them bitter, angry, but never hateful. They couldn't hate any of them. Truthfully, they wrote, it was out of love that they acted as they did. They spent many nights waking from nightmares in which they had seen their friends suffer in a dying world, and where they had been helpless to stop it. This possibility could not come to pass, even if it meant swearing off the rest of their responsibilities, interests, friendships, and anything else that might slow them down. Or, again, so they had written to themselves.
Now, they walked past the corkboard, ripping more and more pages off the wall. Tacks flew to the ground; it ruptured under the pressure, eventually falling off its supports and collapsing to the ground, scattering everything that was still attached. Seth hardly noticed this, papers threatening to slip out of their grasp, as they threw themselves onto the room's elongated davenport. Lying against it, they looked at their old notes. Each page had their recollection about the last moments of one of the flowers.
One time, Flowery came around Seth's room. They didn't answer at first, but he insisted. After making sure no one else was around, they let him in. He sat down on the couch, and told them everything about his dreams. The reasons he'd built himself the way he had. The aspirations that Asgore had shared with him; his own feelings of fatherhood that the other flowers had never heard. It was more genuine than they'd ever heard him, and he sounded almost heartbroken, yet proud. Before Seth could pry any deeper, he apologized and left, citing important matters he needed to attend to. Notably, he never mentioned anything about the setting suns.
It was the last time they saw him. A few hours later, when the golden sun was set to rise, the sky instead remained silent, and the wind paused. All the Darkners, from Floradinns to Netskies to Orange, shivered as the air grew cold, and some hid away. Seth had prepared a portable lamp, but the light traveled a shorter distance than it should have. They looked throughout the castle, calling out for another, and received only hushed whispers. Finally, they made it to the top, where Flowery had always stood. Touching his shoulder, they expected one of his classic responses, but it was hard, chilly, and solid. As they brought the lamp up to him, they saw what had happened. He had frozen into stone, his cheerful, genuine expression forever memorialized.
It was harder after that. Practically speaking, the Kingdom hadn't been designed for periods of extended darkness, and the flowers struggled to adjust the castle to take the new period of night into account. Seth always liked to take walks among the chemin de ronde while the suns were setting, but it had become uncomfortable. In the darker times, as they could make out individual blots in the sky, it grew terribly chill, and if they opened their mouth they could sense a strange, bitter taste on the air. They started to just stay inside.
Worse than that was the psychological impact. Blue and Yellow stopped checking in on Seth or sending letters, and they rarely saw Orange making finger-puppet shows for Aqua. Green's cooking all but vanished from the cafeteria. Without Flowery, and without his sun, the world was emptier.
Seth's mind had filled with speculation before, as had the rampant gossip of the others. Some imagined that the process might reverse after the first sun dimmed; perhaps it was using up all the energy. Others thought it might lead to a cascade, with each failing faster than the last. Perhaps it would fluctuate, and the golden light may even one day return. Despite their reclusion, Seth accepted the help of the others, who joined in when it became clear that the phenomenon would continue. They no longer relied on themselves to take measurements, or even perform routine calculations. As reports came in, the more boring and grim reality revealed itself. The other suns were still weakening, but not any faster or slower than before.
The next to go would be the green sun. It had always mesmerized Seth, as unnatural as it was, and so ill-befitting the functions of a plant; yet, they could not deny its radiant beauty as it shone over the cliffs, the verdant hues mixing with the violet waterfalls. It happened one rotation earlier than predicted, and by the time Seth had found Green, they had already turned. No final goodbyes. The others had already prepared a memorial for them; they were placed by the picnic tables outside, covered in wreaths, and adorned by dozens of recipes that they'd designed for others.
Next was the orange sun. The most 'realistic,' Seth had written, and the closest to that of the Light World.
It had already been almost half a year since the Dark World had been created, and they could only vaguely recall what it had been like there. It had felt so much more real, yet less at the same time, and now they tried to distract themselves from the idea of returning to that state. Sometimes, they looked off into the distance, at their Dark Fountain, and wondered who would one day come to seal it. Who had noticed their world? They had never received any visitors, certainly not the Knight again. They had heard of the Roaring, but knew it would have made itself more apparent. It was possible, they figured, that Asgore had been simply forgotten, his home left unattended for months and months after his disappearance. Maybe Kris and the others had succeeded and felt no more need to deal with their world, or maybe this was all the hallucination of a normal flower.
Seth shook their head and returned to their notes, reviewing the one about Orange. It felt so abrupt; her sun had disappeared a little closer to Green's than expected, but showed no conclusive pattern of increased pace. Seth had never been close to her, but they felt their heart twang as her crying rang out across the castle. Blue tried his best to comfort her, but it did as little as ever, especially with Green gone. Seth went to bed early the night that it happened and hadn't even woken up when they finally found Orange after hours of searching; she'd tucked herself into a corner. Blue thought it was so that no one would have to see her like that, but Seth wondered if she was simply afraid of the world itself.
Seth held the paper between their hands, fingers along the top, and began a tearing motion. They wanted nothing more than to destroy these notes, the memories along with them, and to move on. Reminders of their failures, and nothing else. All of this work, these papers strung together with ribbon and sticky notes and the mad scrawling of a flower living on half an hour's sleep, it had added up to nothing. They could predict the next sundown -- not even that accurately, mind -- and they could do absolutely nothing to stop it, divert it, or even explain it. Unfortunately, they couldn't pull the trigger, and they let the page fall down into their lap.
It hadn't really needed explaining, they thought. It was obvious from the start. They thought back to the one time that anyone besides themselves had considered it.
Seth hadn't adjusted well to the longer nights, and often found themselves falling asleep earlier than they intended. One such early nap was broken by a gentle knock on the door, followed by a much harsher one. They awoke with a start, and groggily made their way to the door, checking to peephole to look for intruders -- as if any were left in their world. It was only a mild surprise to see Blue and Yellow standing outside.
Normally, they'd argue with guests coming by, but they decided to just let them in. They were too tired to push back against visitors. Blue and Yellow both bowed as they entered, as if Seth was worth respecting, and they took their seats on the couch. "We've been thinking of a plan, the two of us."
Seth wanted to smirk, but held it back. "And what's that?"
"Wells, Blue and me were plannin' to head off into the sunset and sees what we can over there."
Blue nodded accordingly. "Yes. We don't know what we'll find, but... it's worth a shot, isn't it?"
They shook their head. "Unlikely." The two other flowers looked down, sorrowfully; they felt their heart ache, but they couldn't obscure the truth. "You know the dark, inky dots up in the sky. I stare at them sometimes. I go outside and look straight up at the sky, as if I'll see something. Some sort of... dark constellation, or a graph, all organized and plotted out like it'll tell me everything I need to know."
Blue smiled. "And what have you seen?"
Seth smiled, stood up groggily, and clapped. "Absolutely nothing whatsoever." They paced around the room, angling to hold themselves back from a lecture. "You've seen the same figures I have, and there's nothing. No pattern, other than the decrease. Doesn't correlate with anything at all, not even the dots up above."
The room had filled with a deafening, ringing silence, punctuated only by Yellow's foot tapping nervously on the floor. "You don't 'spose there could be nothin' at all causin' it?"
From the other side of the room, Seth watched as Blue took Yellow's hand. They wanted so badly to tell them that there was an answer. "I wouldn't bet on it."
Blue shook his head solemnly. "We understand. There's a risk, too, of course. But we have no other choice." He stood up, bringing Yellow up with him. "I presume you won't join us."
Seth shook their head. Suicide mission. It was all they could think, but they'd never say it. "I'm sorry, but... maybe I'm better off here. Collecting the data. Maybe there's a pattern I can find after all."
The two guests both smiled. "There's'n always a bright side, ain't there?" Yellow tipped his hat, and Blue nodded his head. "You'll do'er well, won't ya?"
Seth nodded. "Of course I will."
As soon as they had confirmed it, Yellow made his way out the door. Blue lingered for a moment longer. "And you'll take care of Aqua, right?"
"That's... a given, isn't it?"
Nothing ever came of it. Half a month later, the yellow sun fell, never to rise again. Just one rotation later, the blue sun followed. For once, Seth cried. They didn't understand it. They didn't know that they could cry; they never had before. When they'd heard Orange crying, they felt sick to their stomach with sorrow, like they'd breached a barrier that could never be crossed again. Now, listening to themselves wail, they merely felt pitiful. Useless. The worst part was Aqua's voice outside the door, calling out for Seth, asking them what was wrong, offering to help them, to make them feel better. So small, gentle, innocent, naive, and everything else that Seth hated themselves for lacking. They didn't respond to her.
Truthfully, they did a terrible job at their task. They couldn't bear to be around Aqua, who remained jubilant and playful despite everything that had gone on. She still hardly understood the situation, and she asked inane questions about their fate. Following the flowers, almost all of the other Darkners had turned to stone as well, and she found herself increasingly bored. One day, she had started to knock on their door again. They hadn't responded once during the last week, but she tried nonetheless. Her voice rang out from behind, getting a little more desperate but no less pure. Seth would use earplugs to avoid hearing her, as their will was too weak. At that time, they were just finishing their latest compilation of data. With most Darkners out of commission, it had again fallen to them to do the data collection and analysis, but they had nothing better to do. Finally, they completed that week's work.
It was as they had always feared. The next sun they predicted to fall was the turquoise one, the only one in the sky besides their own. It meant so many things, but they pushed the thoughts away. There was one easy way to distract themselves, they realized; they pulled out the earplugs and opened the door.
The next part was hard to remember. In the present, Seth grappled with the page in their hands, fresh tears forming and threatening to dampen it. None of it was fair. The shallow light of the violet sun had shifted its path through the window, and now landed on the exposed, empty part of the couch on which they sat. Their room had originally been intended for multiple inhabitants, and it felt needlessly large now, as if there was an empty space in every corner for a friend. They placed the page in the light, sat up against the seat, as if it could keep them company itself.
They delved back into their memory. From that day on, Seth had done nothing but play with Aqua. They'd recreated all of their favorite bullet patterns together, practicing alongside some of the Darkners who yet lived. It took both of their minds off the future, though Aqua still couldn't help but notice when one of their play partners wouldn't come back the next day. As the castle grew more and more desolate, Seth led Aqua down to the dark, overgrown marsh at the Garden. They worked together to set up a small camp, keeping a fire lit to illuminate their play even through the long, long nights they'd grown accustomed to. The wind quieted during these periods, yet it felt cooler than ever. One night, Seth had fashioned a makeshift blanket out of leaves to keep Aqua warm, but she'd asked them to stay with her regardless, sharing their heat like they'd read about penguins doing.
The days grew farther and farther apart as the light from Aqua's matching sun dimmed, and even when lit, the marsh offered little light. They began to lose track of time, and before long, Seth couldn't remember how much time they had left. When they vocalized their concern, Aqua showed her characteristic lack of worry. So, they played and played some more, and they spent time together, and for the first time since they were given form, Seth lost themselves in another's dream.
They couldn't handle thinking of what came next. They stood up and stomped over to the window, finally slamming the blinds closed. The violet light was already receding, but the little amount left had been enough for the room. Now it lay pitch-black, and Seth could only barely make out the shapes of furniture. They fumbled their way over to the lamp and started it, noting how it lurched, and reminded themselves to refill the oil again soon.
They took the oil back over to the couch and lay down, stretching across and knocking the page they'd sat down off to the side. It occurred to them to reach out for it, but they didn't bother. They couldn't tear up their notes, but maybe they could lose them. Maybe one day they'd wake up and the memories would be there. As they lay there, darkness encroaching, they shut their eyes and tried to will themselves to sleep; when it didn't work, they snuffed out the lamp. Yet, no matter how they tossed or turned, the faintest light still filtered through the blinds, keeping them awake. Resigned to their struggle, they reached over the edge of the couch and grabbed at the discarded paper. Holding it in their hands, they flashed back to the last time they'd played with Aqua.
The two had spent the short day playing near the ornate bridge, throwing sticks off and seeing how long they took to float underneath. Aqua tried betting on them, but she always forgot which one she'd chosen by the time they crossed under, or maybe she just pretended to. Over the last few days, she had found it more difficult to jump as she liked to, and so Seth accepted the task of carrying her around. She sat on their shoulders and watched as they threw the sticks into the water, laughing and howling as each one splashed. It brought a smile to their face, and they nearly laughed so hard that she fell off.
Afterwards, they'd walked her back to camp. She was light, but still weighed heavy on their shoulders, and she'd almost fallen asleep on the way there. They figured her shivering was the only thing keeping her from dozing off. As soon as they arrived, she bid them goodnight and waddled beneath her handmade blanket. Seth took the quiet time as an opportunity to fetch some leaves, then prepared some tea over the fire. Although the tradition was long gone, they still liked to drink it; as they did, they'd imagine one of the other flowers sitting across from them, engaging in conversation. It was an odd bit of roleplay, but it helped them ground themselves in the now-lonely Kingdom.
As usual, Seth slept lightly, only drowsing for a few hours. When they awoke, they crawled over to Aqua to check on her as they were wont to do. They put their hands over their mouth to avoid gasping as the horrid realization broke across their mind. Her hands were stretched atop the blanket, and they'd begun to turn to stone, though the rest of her remained untouched. One of their arms stretched out, but the other grabbed at it and pulled it back, their body fighting against itself as they panicked.
At first, they sat down beside her, watching as the petrification spread by microscopic increments against her pale skin. They had never seen the process all the way through before, and their mind raced with ways they could still fix it, as if it hadn't already been the sole object of their obsession for months upon months. They stayed there, on their knees, having lost control of the situation, fidgeting at their fingers and the hem of their jacket and biting their lips and doing nothing at all of use. Then Aqua woke up.
"Uuu... S-Seth... I feel funny..."
Their eyes widened. It struck them that, barring a miracle, these would be their last moments with her... and her last moments with anyone. "Aqua!! I-" The words caught in their throat. For all the times they'd explained it before, simplified or abstracted or as a metaphor, she never understood it. They decided to avert her confusion. "It's alright, Aqua. You... your arm just fell asleep."
"Uuu, asleep! I was just asleep."
"Yeah, that just happens sometimes." They bent forward and picked her up out of the blanket. Her arm sagged, weighed down by its new material, and they could hear her discomfort as it pulled behind her. "Watch out."
"For what?"
"Remember those berries we ate yesterday?" They'd actually eaten them more than a few days ago, but they didn't mind a little white lie in the moment.
"Uuu, yes! Tasty, tasty!"
"Well, they were the wrong type of berry. A little poisonous. Uh, they make you real tired."
"Uuu... I get it." She rolled around in Seth's arms, flailing her petrified limb. "Is that why I can't feel my arm?"
"I... yes." They took note of the loss of sensation. "Don't worry if you're too tired to walk or fly. I'm going to bring you somewhere." With that, they made their way off and through the trees, taking the short route to their destination. They worried they wouldn't have enough time to take the safe, clear route.
"Uuu, where are we going?"
Seth nearly tripped over a branch; they were staring at Aqua, watching every subtle change in her condition, and paid no mind to the terrain in front of them. "We're going to the edge of the creek again, to that circle you loved to play in."
"I don't remember." Her voice had gotten quieter, but she spoke no less passionately. It truly had been her favorite place; her lack of memory was disconcerting. Another symptom to note.
"Right underneath all the cherry blossoms, where they'd fall and dance in the air, then land right there under the sunlight breaking through the foliage."
"Uuu, like Leaflings! Leaflings! Can we play with the Leaflings again? I want to jump and dance with them." She squealed, and squirmed around in their arms again.
"I... yes, soon."
"Uuu, yay!!"
For once, their answer had satisfied her. Her giggling and yelling seemed to have taken a lot of energy out of her, and she didn't speak much more along the way; Seth continued to check and make sure she was alright as such.
Finally, after half an hour or so of walking, the two reached their destination. It wasn't quite as beautiful as they'd remembered, as the sky declined to provide its light, but it was the best memory they had of her. They laid her down in the pile of leaves, taking care not to jostle her. Only her head remained mobile, and it was already creeping up your neck. "You'll be alright here."
"Uuu, Seth, I don't get it."
They kneeled down beside her and patted her on the head. "It's alright, Aqua. You'll be alright." They repeated it like a mantra, more for their own sake than for hers, they knew. "Just be still."
She shook her head. "I want to jump! Jump! I can't jump, Seth. I'm stuck."
"Y-yes, that's the berries, remember?"
Aqua pouted some. "I want to twirl."
"I know, I know." They kept patting her on the head, but she began to squirm some. It was almost at her chin. "We had fun, didn't we?"
"Uuu... I had a lot of fun playing with you, Seth."
"That's good." They brushed at their eyes with their sleeve. "I had fun playing with you, Aqua."
"I miss Yellow and Blue and Orange. And Green!" She smiled and shook some, almost tilting over.
"Me too."
"Can I play with them again soon?"
Their cheeks were getting wetter than the fabric of their hood could handle. "Y-yes, Aqua. Very soon."
"Uuu, will you come, too?"
They shook their head. "I don't know."
"Uuu, why not? I w-want to play with Seth more." It was reaching the corners of her mouth, and she was obviously struggling to speak, though she didn't seem to notice. "Does Seth not want to play with me?"
They leaned forward and brought her into an embrace, hugging her with all the little strength they had left in themselves. Their tears dropped and pelted her lithic arms, the first wave of erosion. "I don't want to ever stop playing with you, Aqua."
"Uuu, yay." Her next words were labored, and took her time to articulate. "I still... don't get it."
"Shh, Aqua." They brought her in closer, rubbing her head, brushing hair away from her face, and putting their finger to her lips. "You're just going to sleep, alright? I'll play with you in the morning."
Her face moved, and they could make out a quiet humming, but she didn't respond. When they finally looked down, she had been entirely overtaken.
It was hard to read the page in the dark, but they didn't need the words. They knew. They'd read it a thousand times, and they could've lived it out in their head even without writing down a single sentence. Their muscles ached, their bones were hard and brittle. They clinched at their wrists, which ached just from holding up the paper. They were growing weaker. They kicked and floundered on the couch, letting out all their energy into the air like it had done something to them.
In the commotion, Seth knocked over the lamp. The fire jumped from it and onto the bamboo floor, immediately spreading. They thought to panic, then reconsidered. With just a moment of thought, they instead turned and walked over to the pile of notes that had fallen to the floor off of the corkboard. They took them and began to shovel them into the flame using their arms and feet, feeding it. Once they'd done that, they set to pushing their desk into the fire, then a pile of notes they'd written and left on the floor.
It had grown nearly out of control. Satisfied, Seth left through their study door and made their way down the empty steps of the Castle, exiting through the front. They looked behind them, seeing the flames fan throughout the rest of the building and nearly catching up to them, but they didn't flinch.
Before long, they were out of immediate danger, having made their way to the cliffs. They sat there, legs over the edge, watching the Castle burn to the ground for hours and hours. Before it finished, the violet sun had already set behind it, leaving it the only source of illumination on the horizon. As the wind died down, Seth retrieved the one page that they'd kept from their notes. Their finalized analysis of the most recent data, collected entirely independently. Lit by the flames, they reviewed it, performing a few equations in their head. The results were exactly as expected.
One more sunset.
One more day, in loose terms, plus the unnervingly long night between. They thought of what the other flowers had done. Blue and Yellow had sacrificed themselves in search of a solution. Flowery and Orange had hidden away from the others, perhaps to spare their feelings. Green and Aqua had continued living in their own ways, refusing to yield to the future.
Seth balled up the note and threw it into the abyss. More kindling, if it would spread that far. Then they lay down on the rocks of the cliff and looked up at the starless, dead sky, with the bright haze of their own fire burning just past the edge of their vision.