The eyes had already vanished by the time Hat Kid made it back to the main stretch of land and reentered the forest. Whether it was because they found what they were looking for—hopefully not her—or just because they were well hidden, she didn't know. Either way, she dashed through the brightly lit wood, only slowing down to a brisk walk after the icy trails marking the snow women's territory was far behind her. She moved with purpose, stopping just to give a little time for the snow clinging to her clothes to melt before stepping onto the paved roads of the ghostly town.
It felt like she was looking at it with new eyes. Of course, Vanessa's storm and the forest itself had destroyed much of the real town—where Subcon Village still remained a frozen wasteland, the other settlement across the wood had thawed, but was left in complete ruin—but she now recognized some of the pathways she'd walked before, the towers that had miraculously been left standing. It was as close to perfect a match as things could get.
Well, the palace wasn't. The real Subcon wasn't anywhere close to any mountains. The ruins in Subcon had a gated area with a large, impressive fountain: She'd wondered before if that had been a small castle or mansion, the surroundings towers and fallen walls once weaving around it. The castle here was largely set apart, fashioned vertically to better scale the mountainside. Comparing the two, even without the gate, it somehow now felt more closed off to her than before.
Hat Kid felt acutely aware of every sound and movement as she beelined for the palace and entered through its wide doors—even more than the eternal silence the Horizon usually possessed already forced her to feel. As she shouted Moonjumper's name down every hall, the echoes of her own voice and footsteps seemed to call back to her from every angle. Her own shadow played tricks on her against the walls.
To her dismay, there was no sign of Moonjumper anywhere. She checked his study and bedroom, the dining room and kitchen, the garden… Eventually, she even began to each of the towers, crossing the outdoor walls when able to look for any sign of the phantom prince from above. Over half an hour into her search and she reached the castle's highest point: A spire with a domed interior and wide archways from every side.
She'd had to scale the walls to reach it. The stairwell below ended a level too soon and there was no ladder. The way up was so well hidden that she was lucky to find it at all from the inside. Strangely enough though, out of all the rooms in the palace, the spire seemed the most cared for. It was first time since her arrival that she truly felt she'd stepped into Moonjumper's home. A trio of tables encompassed her in a semicircle, partially blocking some of the exists. A telescope stood opposite of them. The tables were littered with books; papers; and old, astronomical instruments. A burnt-out candle rested in a brass holder filled with cooled, uneven wax and there was a pile of sketches to the left of it: Quick, simplified drawings of celestial spirits that reminded her more of star maps.
The telescope was too large for her to use. Hat Kid ran from one side of the spire to the other, but there was still no sign of him. She bit the inside of her cheek, What am I doing? How was she going to talk to him about everything anyway? Maybe it would've been better to talk to some of the Dwellers first, just to try to get a little more information from them about the situation before confronting him.
Leaning against the cold stone along one of the arches, she heaved a deep sigh. Her legs ached from the nonstop running and climbing. Her eyes scanned over the tables once again until the settled on a cylindrical piece among the instruments. Brows furrowing, she titled her head curiously and squinted her eyes at her for a close look.
It was the other half of the damaged spyglass she'd found in the caves. Even as Hat Kid removed her piece from her bag, she already knew it would fit. Although it had been broken in two, there were actually four sections to the antique tool, alternating between a plain surface and a finely etched, spiral patterned design. She took both halves in each hand, closed them, and pressed the second and third sections against each other until she heard a firm click as they snapped into place. Then she opened it again and took a look for herself.
It was a pretty advanced piece, and it had a dial that allowed her to alter its range. With it, the spots of color that were the Dwellers several meters below to her own eyes became clear figures in a rounded frame. It worked so well that, for a moment, she thought of staying in the spire to keep up the hunt for Moonjumper from afar. That is until a green and white blur flew past her line of vision.
A Dweller Crow came to rest along one of the outer walls, perched about fifteen meters away from her. Although they still irritated her—dead or alive—the ghosts didn't seem to find them much and most soared through the Horizon freely. She'd gotten used to seeing them around. What actually interested her was the hourglass shape in its talons.
Hat Kid's mouth drew into a displeased frown. Although happy at the appearance of yet another Time Piece, the thought of having the rip it away from the bird right then didn't appeal to her. Still, there was no choice for it. Without a second thought, the child put away the spyglass, stepped out of the spire, and jumped down to the crow's level to land in a crouch before breaking into a run with her umbrella drawn at her side.
The crow spotted her well before she could reach it. She tore her mask from her hip and slapped it on her face with her free hand as it jumped back into the air and dove for her. Closing the gap, she jumped up to meet it only for the bird to swing back with a cry of outrage at the last minute in attempt to dodge. She struck it in the wing and it spiraled away before regaining its balance and flying off—clearly changing its mind against fighting her with its prize in tow.
She gave chase and as it flew beyond the palace walls she leapt in pursuit to catch it by a thin leg. The bird lurched in the air, dragged down by her weight and wildly flapping to keep itself steady. They drifted in a low, swift glide. If it weren't for the still massive drop below, Hat Kid would've just swiped the Time Piece; however, she hung on and prayed that the crow kept its strength long enough for them to hover to safety.
Someone screamed below. The young alien was too busy focusing on the task at hand to look away, minding their descent. There was a bit of framing between levels. Not much to balance on, but enough that maybe she'd be able to pull herself over to the closest walkway. She swung her body in its direction, pulling the crow with her.
Everything that happened after that seemed to take place in a blink of an eye. The second her feet touched stone, she fought to wrestle the Time Piece from the crow's grip, letting go of it with her other hand. A red blur—a Dweller—flew up at the same time and startled them both. The Time Piece slipped out of Hat Kid's hand just as soon as she thought she had it, striking the wall before shattering completely against the Dweller's mask as he tried to help to meet her.
Hat Kid gasped in shock, but her body moved as if on instinct at the sight of the swirling, purple light that burst from the broken glass: She dove toward it, back in the air for just a second before she was swallowed by the rift.
She still felt like she was falling for a long while. Everything was dark and then she suddenly hit the ground in a harsh roll, knocking the wind from her lungs on impact. The child had to give herself a moment to catch her breath, but was otherwise unharmed.
It wasn't her smoothest entry into a time rift. She'd had to climb trees and buildings to reach some and shimmy down drainage pipes to reach others. She'd mark this as one of her least favorites. Rolling onto her stomach, she took in her surroundings. It was an island surrounded by floating rock, inhabited by a mix of both Subcon's and the Horizon's flora. It was a strange blend of light and dark, the bright blues piercing against a shadowy mist of miasma.
Whereas the blue time rifts always reflected the dreams and memories of those who entered, the environments in the purple time rifts were affected by those in contact with a Time Piece as it shattered. That meant she was effectively in the Dweller's mindscape… As guilty as she felt for thinking it, Hat Kid honestly would've preferred if the relic has broken over Moonjumper instead. She probably would've gotten more of the answers she wanted that way. There was no helping it now though, and it wasn't like she'd throw a Time Piece at his face and risk a global scale anomaly just to satisfy her curiosity later.
Even still, maybe she could find something useful here away. Recomposed, she pushed herself up from the ground. One of the advantages of a purple rift was that she could usually piece together certain memories to get a complete story. These pieces, key moments of a person's life or a life-changing event that lead them to who they were, were—as she simply called them—Storybook Pages. She always tried to collect them when she could. She doubted this Dweller's story differed too much from the others, but even if she just learned a little bit about his arrival to the Horizon, it was more than what she had to go on any other way.
Purple rifts also tended to be multi-leveled, meaning that there was probably a page not far from her right then. Rather than look for an exit, Hat Kid shuffled off into the wood, using her umbrella to bat away at the underbrush and clear a path for herself. The island was small—hovering in a void similar to the Horizon itself and she actually managed to walk along its entire circumference before finding what she was looking for a little way further inland. There was a series of branches she was able to scale up almost like a stairwell, jumping from beam to beam in order to reach the top of a wide tree where the first page was tucked between a mass of leaves.
The higher she climbed, the more she began to notice thin, red pieces of string dangling from the overgrowth. They hung like spider threads above her; scattered and few, but noticeable against the cold blue colors of some of the trees. They reminded her a little of the ribbons she'd followed when she first entered the Horizon, the ones the dangled decoratively everywhere. These, however, seemed messy and purposeless, like abandoned scraps in a tailor's shop.
Hat Kid reached out to touch one, sliding the string across the flat of her palm. It felt strange. It was fine, but strong. It looked and moved like yarn, but it felt like steel: Cold and hard and harsh.
She shook her head in wonder, letting it go. It was likely something from the rift's dream elements. Turning back to the page, she climbed up the last branch to reach it. It reacted to her touch immediately and at once she was consumed by a bright light similar to how she first entered the rift. All at once, the scenery changed, letting her relive the first of many moments to come alongside her Dweller friend.