Chapter Text
There's a comfortable warmth coating your body as you all sit around the campfire, food held lightly in your hand. Chatter and murmurs surround you as your family talks about mundane life and daily findings, normality finally returned to you after so long. There's nowhere you'd like to be more than this, even the yearning for your homeland cannot compare to the pure joy that fills your every moment surrounded by those you love.
You're not particularly interested in whatever they're talking about, not out of dismissal, but purely from the fuzzy content that washes over you just by being in their presence. Happy to simply exist and have them surround you, have them choosing you day after day despite and because of your flaws.
Mira's talking about some new flower she found while foraging, the petals smoothed out after pressing it once the group had reunited for the day for lunch. Isa, Nille and Bonnie all pop in to give occasional comment or fun fact around the flora of this area. Odile, parallel to your seat, flips through her book with mild interest, clearly paying more attention to the conversation going on than what she's reading.
Dinner rolls around without much fanfare, the afternoon bleeding into evening bleeding into night. After everyone puts away their belongings on their tents for the night, everyone gathers around the campfire to eat, the empanada you received with a soft 'thanks' from Bonnie sitting in your hand, warming up your calloused skin.
Despite the warmth of summer sneaking up on you, you can still feel the air having that note of crispness that only comes with the cold, a nice reminder of the time passing by. No longer forced to be tied into a display-noose, something you stare at with disdain and intrigue, that which claws at your throat; begging to consume all that you are and will be.
Shifting around in your seat, you look outwards towards the forest, the crickets singing a lullaby that threatens to drag you to sleep, a melody carved by nature itself, a harmony created by freedom. It's always different, never that accursed place that haunts even your dreams.
You do not dislike Dormont, you do not hate the place much less the people. But you think you're allowed to be unsettled in its presence, the way the architecture grinds on your very being, walls a dull lightless color, a castle made of shadow— a corruption born from a selfish wish— that seems to not let even air breathe within its walls. There's nothing wrong with Dormont, neither is there something wrong with you. This, at least, you have come to learn.
Three hundred and sixty-four days have passed and your heart has never felt lighter, every shift in the moon cycle, every constellation you find and miss when the clouds and fog are too thick, a blanket of comfort born from change. Maybe they were onto something with the change belief, thought you'll never speak this thought out loud. You'd rather it never reaches that scum God's ears. Eugh.
Still… even after near a year, you can never seem to stop your thoughts from wandering, all the way back to Loop. Sometimes you wonder if things could've turned out differently, if there was a happier end to this, like you could magically go back and fix all your mistakes; every dismissive and snarky comment just erased under the pressure of intent. When your thoughts take a darker route, you wonder if this is the best possible outcome.
Being chained to a body that's barely yours? Forced into a tutorial puppet? A passenger in your own afterlife, a ghost born from a cautionary tale? That's no way to exist, and perhaps you can understand why Loop took their final decision the way they did. Perhaps you would always respond like this, were the given circumstances correct for the event to even be thought out.
There might not be much you can do, but you carry Loop in your heart, the way one has a chip on their shoulder, or maybe the way a mother cradles a fallen child. Gone and lost to a world too cruel.
Is the Universe cruel for its nature? Or is your selfish wish born from human nature a cruel reality none can escape?
Where do you draw the line, and where do you mark the blame?
But well… despite it all…
Loop kept you anchored, they were there when you clocked out mentally, when you forgot your family's names, when they turned to nothing more than puppets on a stage, something that long lost its autonomy within the ribbon of insanity you tied into a noose. A tight knot constricting every bit of personhood, thinking yourself so real when you were as much of an actor as them. Despite it all.
Despite it all.
Regardless, wishful thinking doesn't get you anywhere, you have a place in your heart for Loop marked, but you will not let grief stop you from moving on. You deserve to continue on with your life, regardless of the guilt that churns within. It's still a work in progress.
You think it's because of Loop that you can still even hold a conversation. You relied on them to be real, to hold your sanity when you couldn't be trusted with it, even when it cracked under pressure, Loop was always there to catch you when you fell. You miss that safety net.
Two hundred loops or more were bound to chip away at your brain capacity.
Tuning back in, the conversation seems to have somehow turned into a discussion of your eating habits. You notice, belatedly, you're gripping your empanada with more strength than necessary. Your stomach churns violently at the thought of the loops, your brain straining under the pressure. You hold your breath and let go a shaky gasp, bordering on a whimper.
Thankfully nobody has noticed, which is good because you can feel yourself start to clock out mentally, body overwhelmed with emotion, stress too big to handle on a crowded space. Quietly getting up, you put away your half-eaten food and go back to your tent to try and meditate, maybe some breathing exercises will help calm your heart.
You're brought back to Odile explaining to Bonbon how body your struggles to adapt to its new needs. A void replacing your stomach, your sweat becoming nothing more than decorative star dust, not really doing anything to regulate your temperature.
"Is there really nothing we can do?" Bonnie fidgeted, clearly anxious at the lack of answers provided. Odile merely sighed, patience everlasting.
"As much as I wish we could, no, Boniface," Flicking their nose, Odile leaned back. "That however, does not mean there's nothing we can do to alleviate Siffrin's struggles. Like making lighter meals or giving them distractions if needed."
She smiled. "But as much as I wish we could magically erase all the troubles the time loop and excessive use of wish-craft, the best remedy now? It's time, ironically enough."
Bonbon seemed really pensive after that, taking their new cooking restrictions with seriousness, a task made all the more important when you accidentally maybe made an off-hand comment about like one of your deaths that totally was on accident but like pineapple tasted good!!
Anyways. You can hear your family shuffle outside, everyone getting ready for bed. It was getting pretty late, so it makes more than sense. You decide to let yourself further relax as Isabeu steps into your cot wordlessly, you're not sure speech can come to you at this moment. But it's fine, they understand. You're starting to understand too.
Tomorrow will be the dawn of a new era, a whole year free from the self imposed prison you made in a place that represents stagnation more than its religion can condemn.
You're free, tomorrow is another day.
Opening up is scary, but being heard is so very nice. You wouldn't trade this for the world, yet there's one thing that never seems to stop nagging you.
…
It all comes back to Loop, doesn't it?
You really do wish you could've given them a better fate, you wish you could've given your homeland a better fate, somehow undo all the hurt that was inflicted upon your birthplace and its culture. But the world isn't kind enough for that. And you're learning to live with it, so it's fine.
Sending one last prayer into the wind, you whisper, so quiet only someone with enhanced hearing could hear it:
I won't let you fade. You will be remembered.
Loop, wherever you may be, with the stars or resting peacefully, know that I will carry our legacy for as long as I live. Your home will not be forgotten nor will its people.
If the time comes… I hope we can meet again.
Your mind is hazy with sleep, unconsciousness tugging you back to its domain. A nudge, more than a shove, yet insistent nonetheless. Drifting deeper into sleep, you feel something within your stomach.
You're too tired to care right now, that's morning you's problem if the food settled badly into your system.
A tug on your stomach is the last thing you feel, and you pass out for good.