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It took a grand total of two hours for the Housemaidens trained to use their Craft to fight to drive Siffrin away from the House.
The people in the House did not know that was their friend, and did not listen when Mirabelle clung to them and tried to stop them from attacking Siffrin.
It was like watching ants attack a human. He winced, and shook off their attacks, but nobody had come close to hurting him the way Odile had.
By the time Siffrin stumbled away from the House, almost tripping over themselves as they retreated, slow step after slow step, head hung low, it was still the only wound Mirabelle could see on Siffrin.
The shoulder of their cloak tore apart from the burst of paper, skin torn down to the bone, a liquid in that horrible shade pouring from the wound, staining the fabric. All his shades were inverted, and still that unusual shade seeped into the cracks.
Mirabelle hated to imagine what it would look like if Odile had cast her Rock Craft on him instead.
She remembered seeing Siffrin cry, as he turned away from them. His tears leaked down his face and hit the top of the House and rained into Dormont, but they did not stagnate midair the way the King’s did. They just landed on the ground and created puddles the way normal rainfall would.
“I feel so stupid,” Odile acknowledged, face resting in her hand. “I attacked without thinking, that’s unlike me.”
“It really was,” Isabeau said, an unusually hard twist of anger in his voice, not looking at her as he paced, waiting for the Head Housemaiden to come back. “They were obviously hurting! They were in pain, and you–! You.”
Odile flinched. She kept her head turned away from all of them, but Mirabelle could see the barely-there tremble in her shoulders. “I wasn’t thinking.” She repeated, distantly.
“There’s. . . nothing we can do about it yet.” Mirabelle decided quietly, tightening her grip on her skirt. “We have to wait for Euphrasie to– to come back. And tell us what she can do to help!”
“Is. . .” Bonnie fidgeted on their chair, squirming uncomfortably. “Is Frin gonna freeze everything, too?”
“No!” Mirabelle reassured.
“He wouldn’t!” Isabeau agreed, pivoting around on his heel to come to a screeching halt in front of Bonnie. “They’re– they’re a good person, Bonnie! I know they’ve had a rough couple days, and they said all those things, but they! They definitely didn’t mean any of them!”
Bonnie sniffled, scrubbing their eyes with the hand Isabeau wasn’t holding. “Then why’d they say it? Why’re they big?! Why– why didn’t they want us to go home?”
“I don’t know, Bonbon.” Isabeau admitted softly, shaking his head. “Whatever was going on with them– It must’ve hurt a lot.”
Siffrin wasn’t a bad person. Mirabelle had to remind herself of that. He never meant to hurt them. She remembered his eyes widening in guilt the moment she had slapped him and–
She tried to remember. Was his cheek bruised?
Before he grew, he had been exhausted, half bent over, not looking at any of them, struggling to breathe, and she had forgotten all about it. And then staring up at him, Mirabelle had all her attention ripped away in beat with his cloak tearing with Odile’s attack.
She couldn’t remember.
But Siffrin must’ve been in so much pain. . .
“Mirabelle.” Euphrasie called, gently, and Mirabelle whirled around in relief to see the Head Housemaiden standing in the doorway, hands clasped and lowered, smiling gently. “And your companions. . . How are you all holding up?”
“Not well!” Isabeau snapped, and Mirabelle flinched at the pure anger in his voice as he whirled on Euphraise. “Our friend is a giant– giant! And you were all attacking him, and you sent him away! We could’ve fixed it!”
“Oh my.” Euphraise frowned, looking at Mirabelle with concern.
Mirabelle remembered Siffrin smacking Euphrasie away, screaming at them moments before he was attacked, and. It was entirely possible that Euphrasie was angry about that!
What if Euphrasie didn’t realize that Siffrin had just gone through a terrible Change? What if she didn’t realize Siffrin wasn’t always like that, what if she didn’t forgive him, what if she didn’t help them find Siffrin–!
“My apologies.” Euphrasie sorrowfully said, shaking her head. “I. . . knew you were close, I suppose. My memories of before he Changed are foggy, but. . .”
“You were speaking oddly.” Odile realized, looking up from her stupor. “I had. . . forgotten about that. How are you feeling now?”
“Much better.” Euphrasie frowned, looking over her shoulder at one of the windows lining the hallway. The glow of the terrible shade of the sky was still shining through, painting the side of her face. “I. . . cannot say the world is much better.”
“No,” Odile muttered, bitter. “I can’t imagine it is.”
“I came to tell you that. . . we are organizing our most powerful Craft users to track them down.” Euphrasie relayed. “Including myself. We. . . wanted to know if there were any weaknesses to exploit, or, maybe their Craft type–?”
“Weaknesses!” Mirabelle gasped.
“No!” Odile said, shaking her head. “No, absolutely not! We are not going to give you the means to hurt him!”
“We aren’t going to help you attack him!” Isabeau shouted, withdrawing a step, angry.
“We don’t want you to hurt Frin!” Bonnie cried, angry as they stomped one of their feet against the ground.
“Head Housemaiden, what if– What if you let us chase them down?” Mirabelle begged, half certain she’d say no, but she had to try! They couldn’t let Siffrin be tracked down and hurt! The four of them would help Siffrin get better! Whatever had cursed him or hurt him. . .
“Oh!” Euphrasie blinked, and then nodded eagerly. “Yes! Of course! Please– if you can get through to them, I would rather deal with this peacefully. I was worried that you would all say no. After all, you’ve traveled such a long way and have had such a hard fight–”
Hardly! Siffrin had conquered the House and the fight with the King had been so short, nothing had really happened!
Mirabelle felt relief peel through her, lifting her hands up to her mouth and sucking in a couple of calming breaths, just like Siffrin did. “We want to. We– we have to try to get through to him.”
“Good! Good.” Euphrasie smiled at them. “We have horses and supplies. I’m not sure how long it will take you to catch up with them, but it shouldn’t be too long! Last I heard, we could still see them!”
That wasn’t saying much. Siffrin was so big, like a mountain, towering. It had been a while, though. Being so big, it must be hard to move.
Mirabelle felt worry sweep through her, and she nodded firmly to herself. “Okay! Okay, we should start going! Bonnie–”
“I’m coming with you!” Bonnie yelled immediately. “I want to help save Frin! You can’t tell me I can’t! You can’t!”
Mirabelle smiled at them. “No, of course not, Bonnie. Who do you want to ride with? You’re not old enough to ride on your own horse!”
“Oh.” Bonnie relaxed, and pointed at Isabeau. “I’ll go with Za!”
“Excellent.” Euphrasie smiled at them. “I’ll let the stable hands know! I know the future of our country is safe in your hands.”
It would be safe no matter what. Mirabelle was certain about it! The world breaking wasn’t Siffrin’s fault. Or, if it was, they didn’t mean for it.
They’d fix this.
They were going to find out what was wrong, and they were going to save Siffrin and the world!
One step at a time.
((o))
“No thank you.” Loop said, shaking their head at them.
“Are you sure?” Isabeau practically pleaded, frowning down at them. “You know Sif better than any of us–!”
“You would like to think that.” Loop scoffed, looking anywhere but at them. “But no. The truth is, I don’t know them well at all! And I don’t. Exactly want to see them while they’re like this.”
“Are you sure?” Mirabelle pressed. “It’d help to have you there.”
“No.” Loop said, shaking their head. “I saw enough of that from down here. But! When you eventually save them from themselves, bring them back here! I would love to talk to them properly again!”
“Hmm. Very well.” Odile said, guiding her horse around to face where they could see Siffrin’s hat, far in the distance, cutting the horizon like a mountain. “If you change your mind, the House has horses.”
“I won’t.” Loop reassured. “Good luck, have fun, don’t die!”
They left. Mirabelle hoped they could do this without Loop. Something told her they would need every one of Siffrin’s friends that they could manage.
Oh, she wished she knew more about Siffrin! They had to have more friends somewhere, didn’t they?
They didn’t have time to track them down from the car reaches of Vaugarde or the globe, though. The four of them could save Siffin.
She knew they could.
((o))
They caught up to Siffrin in a forest.
He had long since sat down, heels resting in a stream, cloak and legs hunched as much as he could in a clearing. The trees leading to his current resting spot were trampled and destroyed.
Mirabelle guessed they didn’t mean to, their size a detriment, but the sight of the unwarranted destruction of nature broke her heart. It wasn’t worse than freezing an entire country in time, but it hurt nonetheless.
The heels of Siffrin’s palms dug into his eye and socket, shoulders shuddering with silent sobs. Mirabelle was almost impressed that even as a giant, every noise he made amplified, that she couldn’t hear a single sound. Trumping all of that was her worry, filling every centimeter of her with concern.
“SIF!” Isabeau yelled at her side, and the giant startled, dropping their hands as quickly as possible, which wasn’t very fast at all.
Siffrin stumbled uneasily to their feet, heels destroying the ground at their pivot, raking holes across the dirt and leaving terrible rivets behind.
“What are you all doing here?” They cried, stumbling back a step. The birds that had settled after he had sat down forever ago were alarmed again, taking to the skies with desperate cries.
“We’re just here to talk!” Odile shouted back as everyone reigned in their suddenly terrified horses, dismounting and letting them flee the scene. Their Crafted whistles would call them back as soon as they were ready.
“Yes!” Mirabelle agreed. “Talk!”
“There’s nothing to talk about!” Siffrin thundered, the sky closing in around him, the shades spiralling around him like he was sucking them into his very self. “You were supposed to pick up the hint and stay away!”
They reached towards them, and Mirabelle tried not to be afraid at their giant hand extending towards them. The smell of sugar wafting off of Siffrin was overwhelming, pressure only growing the closer he got.
“But,” Siffrin spat, “you’re all so stupid you came anyway. . .”
Isabeau frowned, crossing his arms. “Hey, buddy. We’ve got a preteen here. We’re trying to teach them that calling names is mean, so we’d really appreciate it if you could set a good example.”
“Ah–! Sorry!” Siffrin scrambled, withdrawing. Mirabelle couldn’t see their eye, but she imagined they were looking between them. “Sorry, I didn’t mean– You shouldn’t have come.” He threatened, leaning out over them.
Once again, he moved to grab them, but Mirabelle could see the way he hesitated, trying to figure out how to pick them up without hurting them.
This was their Siffrin. He was still in there, still hurting.
Mirabelle could work with this! He was still the painfully sweet dork he had always been, not wanting to hurt any of them, not wanting to fail Bonnie as a bad example.
“Siffrin. I know you said there was nothing to talk about,” Mirabelle said softly, “but can we please try anyway? We’re. . . not. . .”
Saying she wasn’t mad at him was a lie.
She was mad at him for saying all those horrible things to them. She was angry at him for not talking to them, she was angry at him for whatever he was going through that had taken him away from them.
Maybe she was really just furious at whatever was hurting him like this.
This was not like Siffrin. This was not who he was.
Siffrin breathed in, and out. They spiraled one of their fingers, and the platform they had formed earlier to bring them up to their level appeared again. It levitated, and the team stumbled, caught off guard as they were lifted off the ground, nearing his head.
Siffrin cupped his hands beneath the platform, and it disintegrated low enough that they spilled easily into his hands without any pain.
“What is there to talk about?” Siffrin demanded bitterly. “You’ve given yourself up to me. You’ve surrendered. There is only me and you here, and I can do whatever I want with you. You’re my prisoners now! I can keep you!”
“Siffrin. . .” Odile shook her head at them. “You can’t cage us. We’ll fight back, don’t think we won’t.”
Siffrin sunk into the collar of his cloak, ducking away from their sights. “Right. Not friends. . .”
“What?!” Bonnie squawked. “Who said we’re not friends?!”
“You did! And Odile did!” Siffrin cried, voice so loud that everyone cringed, reaching up to cover their ears. “Volume. Sorry. . . I’m sorry. You’re right. All I do is hurt you. What kind of friend does that? What kind of friend. . .”
He shivered.
“You’re still our friend, buddy.” Isabeau said gently. “You’re allowed to be having a rough time. Everyone has a rough time sometimes! Hurt? Sure. Confused? You bet. But it doesn’t make us love you any less.”
Siffrin lifted their head again. With the lightness and strange shades surrounding them, Mirabelle still couldn’t see their face, but she could picture the frown. “You’re just saying that because I’m a threat. Because if you’re not careful, I’ll destroy the world. I know why you’re here.”
“Why are we here, Siffrin?” Odile asked, uncharacteristically gentle.
Siffrin shifted. “To defeat me.”
Mirabelle gasped, reeling backwards. “No! No, oh, Siffrin, I’m so sorry you would think that!”
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Siffrin wept in defeat. “I broke the world. I broke people! I don’t know how to fix it! I don’t know how to make anything better! So the only way to fix it would be to defeat me, wouldn’t it?
“Oh, Siffrin. . .” Mirabelle whispered, hands clasped.
“The Head Housemaiden is fine,” Odile reassured. “Nobody is frozen anymore.”
“That’s not true!” Siffrin shuddered. “If it were true, you wouldn’t be here! Something has to be broken or failing, or–!”
“Look up, Siffrin!” Odile cried. “The only thing that is still odd is the sky!”
Siffrin looked up.
Mirabelle could feel his hands tense beneath her boots, the way his entire body grew rigid.
“I told you,” they bellowed mournfully. “I keep breaking things! The sky is still a part of the Universe, and I broke it!”
“The what?” Isabeau blinked.
Mirabelle frowned, eyes slowly drifting to Siffrin’s shoulder, fabric still torn apart.
Of course. With that attack, it was no wonder they thought they hated them. They hadn’t meant to hurt Siffrin. Mirabelle knew for a fact that it was a mistake Mirabelle made.
But then again, this kind of immediate blame didn’t just come from one bad nap. Yes, they were mean to all of them. Yes, they said hateful things, but. . .
That wasn’t quite hating themselves.
How long had this been building up, been going unnoticed?
How had they never seen how much Siffrin had been hurting?!
How had Mirabelle somehow looked past it this whole time? Her friend needed her, and Mirabelle had never reached out a helping hand to them, and how had she been so mean–!
“Nails,” Siffrin whispered far above her.
She jolted, pulling her nails out of her mouth, and looked up at him.
Whatever expression she bore made Siffrin cringe, titling his head down. “. . . Sorry.”
“Oh.” She murmured, and then lifted her hands up towards him. “Oh, Siffrin. . . you’re always looking out for us–”
“I ruined it,” Siffrin whined. “I’m sorry, I’m so–”
Their hands were trembling beneath them. It felt like an earthquake, and the sharp inhale Siffrin took was such a strong gust of wind that Mirabelle nearly tripped, balance already shaken up.
“–sorry,” Siffrin said on the exhale, hands lowering.
“Wait,” Mirabelle said gently, struggling to regain footing. “Siffrin, wait, wait–”
His hands hit the ground, and Mirabelle felt his hands angle, and she slipped backwards, feet slipping out from underneath her.
“Woah!” Isabeau cried, scrambling to catch all three of them as they slid, doing his best not to let them hit their heads across the ground. “Woah, woah–! Sif!”
“No!” Siffrin cried, jerking. “Sorry! I’m so sorry!”
His voice was booming again, rattling Mirabelle’s eardrums. Bonnie cried, shoving their fingers into their ears, eyebrows furrowing.
“I’m calm,” Siffrin promised, pulling away. “I’m quiet. I’m so sorry that I keep hurting you all. I can. . . make you stay. But I can’t stop threatening you.”
“You want to stay with us.” Mirabelle whispered in bubbling realization.
Siffrin shook, on his knees, hands clamped over his knees, barely peaking out from his cloak. Whatever glamor was covering his features rescinded just enough that she could see his features. The creases between his eyebrows, the worry of his lips, the way his eye stared down, down, too far down to even be looking at you.
“Maybe.” Siffrin said, quietly. “But I won’t. Keeping you. . . It’s wrong. I know it’s wrong.”
“Sif. . .” Isabeau frowned, looking up at Siffrin. “We aren’t. . . mad at you for this.”
Siffrin turned his head away.
“I don’t know why you’re so big.” Isabeau said. “I don’t know what happened. I know that you were angry for a good day, but I know you took that to heart. I know you faced the whole house by yourself because you felt so guilty over it. And you were. . . so hurt when we found you. And then you got angry again.”
His hands lifted in front of him, clenching into fists. Isabeau held them to his chest as he looked up at Siffrin. “But you weren’t really trying to hurt us, were you? You don’t know why you’re big. You don’t know what happened.”
Tears splattered onto the ground between them and Siffrin. Everyone but Isabeau startled, the water like a bucket thrown out a window, and even that was an underestimation.
“You’re scared.” Isabeau continued. “I know what that’s like, believe me. Scared of yourself, but maybe. . . scared of hurting us too?”
Siffrin lifted up one hand to duck beneath their cloak, but everyone could see the shape of his hand lift and tug on his arm underneath as he cringed away from them.
“I thought so.” Isabeau grinned, proud of himself. “Look, Sif. None of us are angry at you.”
“Why not?!”
“Because you don’t deserve it.” Odile said calmly. “You’ve been having a bad day. That is not indicative of how much you deserve or don’t deserve. You are a person. An exhausted, tired person, who, due to forces beyond our comprehension, has been turned into a giant.”
“What if I do know?” Siffrin whispered, and even that was unspeakably loud. “What if it’s the same Craft that turned the King into what he was? What if I’m a monster? I deserve it. I do. I do!”
“Oh.” Mirabelle exhaled, lowering her hands slowly, frowning up at him. “Oh, Siffrin. I hardly think you wanted this.”
“. . . No.” Siffrin admitted. “Not like this.”
“Siffrin, we don’t hate you.” Mirabelle told him, honest, watching his expression clench and smooth out with misery. “We want to help you. Will you let us? Please?”
Siffrin stalled. For a long time. His shoulders shuddered with another sob, lifting up a hand to press against his eye and eyepatch. “. . . you won’t hate me?”
“Never, Siffrin. Never.” Mirabelle promised.
“Of course not.” Odile reassured confidently.
“How could we ever hate you?” Isabeau demanded.
“Stupid Frin! We want you back!” Bonnie insisted, angrily. “So say sorry already, and we can go to Bambouche together, okay?”
Oh! They had never discussed that! Did Bonnie want Siffrin to come back with them? Mirabelle blinked at Bonnie, caught off guard.
“Together?” Siffrin asked, voice wobbling.
“Together!” Bonnie reassured smoothly. “Now get down here already! I wanna hug you!”
“I don’t know how,” Siffrin admitted painfully. “What if I fall?”
“We’ll catch you.” Isabeau promised. He lifted up his hands. “Come on, Sif. We’ve got you.”
When Siffrin started to shrink, Mirabelle was ready.
When the sky shrunk back to its familiar shade, her heart sung.
But nothing felt right until Siffrin was curled up in their arms, sniffling and clinging to their backs.