It's the last time Hershel Layton visits Akbadain. (Not the last nightmare, of course; there is still much more to come.) But somehow, as he balances on the edge of awareness and dreaming, he realises he has nothing new to fear. The past is in the past, the future is in the future.
He doesn't fall, or he no longer notices it. The tomb rushes up to meet him; dark, damp and inhabited by his dead.
Some of the bodies are still there, skeletons in the closet, though there seems to be one less than before...
A light in the dark leads him out onto a grassy plane. Below an old tree, he sees the missing body—boy. The living breathing red-haired boy. He's digging something up from under the tree.
He turns to Hershel, offering him the silver treasure with a smile. "Here."
It's a small crescent moon, smooth and cool in the palm of Hershel's hand. Puzzled, Hershel wonders, "But where is the sun?"
"Beats me!" The boy shrugs, picks up his shovel and carries on his way home. "See you!"
Hershel watches as he disappears over the horizon. The sun is beginning to rise; burning so bright, yet so far away. If he could just reach it...
Dessert sunlight streams through the curtains of the hotel room, waking Hershel Layton. He rubs his eyes and peers into the palm of his hand. Empty.
Shaking his head, he dons his hat, glances at the sleeping forms of his assistants and gets up to look out the window. A new day awaits Monte d'Or. A new day to forgive and fix severed bonds.
Yet, not everyone is quite ready to forgive, Hershel included. There are still so many questions in need of guilty answers.
"Why didn't you tell us, Professor? We're your friends... aren't we?"
"How could you keep this a secret?! I understand with Luke because he's so young...but I'm your assistant!"
"I say, Layton... I thought that criminal was your sworn enemy?"
"You honestly had no idea of his intentions? Of... of course I don't blame you, Hershel."
"I don't think it would be wise if you stayed with us at the mansion. Forgive me; it's just... after what your brother did to Master Randall..."
"Why couldn't you have reached me before him, Hersh?"
However, only one question plagues Hershel's mind:
Where are you now?
Hershel is 35, Desmond is 39.
This isn't a dream, no matter how much I wish it was. I gave up on dreaming years ago. After struggling to survive, after learning of my birth mother's demise, after turning my back on my brother and the true parents we had found. After Mira and Anne filled the void left in my heart... only for Bronev to rip them away from me. After my life became a quest of blood and vengeance and betrayal.
Through every disaster and nefarious deed, I had Raymond.
The noise of an airship rouses me. I could pretend I simply dozed off on the Bostonius and Raymond will be at the helm, shrugging when I ask if he dropped a blanket over me...
My eyes drift open, staring blankly up at the metal domed ceiling.
"Are you awake?" I roll my head to the side. The voice belongs to the Targent agent guarding me; a lean young man with shaggy black hair. "I'm afraid we had to sedate you, and restrain you..."
Its then I realise I'm handcuffed to a metal railing. I attempt to stand and my vision tilts at a sickening angle.
The agent is instantly on his feet. I await some sort of punishment. Instead, he guides me back down to the green tiled floor. "Easy, Fruitcake..."
I squint at him, "Jun...?"
He gives me a lopsided grin, lowering his glasses. "The name's Dodger— Agent Dodger."
"You're involved with Targent again?" I can scarcely muster up my disgust.
"Intelligence services, actually. Don't let the uniform fool you. My team was trying to infiltrate Targent at the ruins when there was a disturbance. We picked you up and now you're on our ship." He must see some fleeting hope cross my face, because his smile fades. "We were... too late to save Raymond. I'm truly sorry... And for what happened to Miss Sharpace and her daughter—"
The reminder hurts more than a blow would have. "You know?"
A solemn nod. "Yeah, you're kind of on our most wanted record for kidnapping and wanton destruction. Not as bad as Targent... But still, pretty bad. We had to arrest you and confiscate your weapons and your airship."
Apprehended by the intelligence services— I should be thankful it's not Targent. But there's only one thing on my mind right now. "Is... Is Raymond here?"
Jun shifts uncomfortably. "He's, er—he's still in our medical facility." What's left of him, he means.
I swallow. "I need to say goodbye to him— properly."
"I'll have to check in with HQ, but I promise I'll try to arrange something."
Before leaving, Jun tosses me a pack of Jammy Dodgers. "Eat. You look like you need it."
True to his word, Jun informs his team that I've suffered a loss at the hands of Targent and I should be allowed to grieve. His colleagues are reluctant, but they act sympathetic. They have all lost something to the agency: An escaped archaeologist deprived of her lower limbs, an ex-prisoner who didn't see the light of day for a decade, a fellow Targent deserter searching for her family...
Jun seems particularly fond the latter, Mint. (She's an experienced hacker; the reason the agents were able to hijack the Bostonius.) Jun introduces me to the blonde-haired woman as soon as we land in Stansbury.
The two agents must accompany me, but I'm permitted to... to lay Raymond to rest. I believe this is the place he mostly considered home, outside of Belmare. I can't risk leading the intelligence services to the retired Commander Falcon, though. Raymond would never forgive me...
But how would he feel if the Millars never discovered his fate?
"I can sympathise with your loss." Mint trains a handgun on me. "But you better not try anything funny."
She and Jun wait respectfully while I prepare a grave at the Memory Knoll, next to Ness. (The area is beginning to resemble a graveyard...)
In memory of a Loyal Protector and a Loving Companion.
No... Raymond was so much more than my companion— he was my confidant and my conscience. In the end, it was my choices that killed him. Rather than stand down, rather than face Targent rationally, I fought fire with fire.
I thought I had nothing left to lose, so I took my one remaining friend for granted. Now he's gone, just like Anne and Mira.
The Millars need to know.
How many others have I hurt in my obstinacy? Grieving families, childhood friends... even my own brother. Every bond, broken; I'm utterly alone.
A wise man once said; we forge our own destiny. I think I understand now... You were always trying to guide me on the right path, weren't you? Could you see I was turning into my former father? You hoped I could do better, yet you followed me, regardless. I can never compensate for the terrible things I've done... but I'll try, for you.
I promise, Raymond.
It's only when Jun addresses me that I realise I've spoken aloud. He's by my side and says under his breath, "Do you really mean that?"
Do I? I swore over Raymond's grave, but I have so much to atone for... Starting with the Millars— someone has to tell them.
I nod to Jun. He sighs and checks Mint is still stood several feet away from us. "I'm going to get a lot of flak for this..." He glances at the shovel in my hands. "Go for it."
Despite his codename, he doesn't dodge when I slam the shovel over his head.
He drops to the grass and Mint releases a startled yell. She rushes to Jun's side, rather than chase after me. Sorry Jun, but I need to get to Scotland. There are shouts of alarm as I reclaim the Bostonius, parked next to the agents' airship.
This is just my first bump of the road to redemption.
[[Disclaimer: Mint Royce belongs to EmmyEeveeZorua.]]
