Remember

Episode Three: Points of View

Chapter Three

"I can't believe it," Mimi whimpered for the umpteenth time, taking a seat on the steps outside Ronan's house. "She's dead… Melody is dead…"

Ronan cleared his throat and scratched at his neck. He was devoted to Mimi, and always did his best to cheer her up and help her in any way he could. But in this situation, there was absolutely nothing he could do. He could be as loyal or devoted or cheerful as possible, but Mimi's situation required more than that. He couldn't bring a girl back from the grave.

"It's okay, Mimi," was his automatic reply, though they both recognized the statement as a lie. Things were not okay, as far as they were concerned.

Sighing, Mimi half-closed her eyes and rested her head on her folded knees. She remained silent, staring at some invisible object in the trees.

Movement in the distance caused her to sit up straight once again, and as she recognized the shape as a human, she tugged on her friend's sleeve, saying, "O'Chunks, look."

Following her gaze, the older boy gasped. "Hey, ah think that's—"

"Mimi, Ronan!" Lady Timpani called as she approached the children, out of breath from the hastiness of her journey. "Thank goodness! You're both here."

Mimi leapt from the stairs and bounded across the clearing, launching herself into Timpani's arms. "You're here!" She rejoiced, "You're finally here!"

Timpani smiled and hugged the girl to her chest. "Yes, Mimi, I'm here. I'm so glad you're safe. And you, too, Ronan," she added with a nod to the orange-haired boy.

"Miss Lady," Ronan started, stepping away from the wooden stairs. "'Ave yeh come teh 'elp us?"

Like Blumiere, Timpani had become accustomed to the nicknames the children had come up with for her. From Ronan, it was 'Miss Lady,' and from Mimi, 'Nice Lady.' Either one called her just 'Lady' from time to time, and although at first Timpani had insisted they call her by her name, she'd grown used to it.

"I'm afraid I only know half of the story," Timpani released Mimi and knelt down so she was eye-level with both children. "Perhaps you can enlighten me?"

Ronan and Mimi began to tell the story simultaneously.

"I-I couldn't change anymore…"

"And Mimi n' Blue came to my 'ouse and I saw her…"

"I'm stuck green now…"

"A-an' then we went into town…"

"...people in black…"

"...a funeral, I think…"

"Sh-she's dead, now!"

Mimi burst into tears. Timpani held back a sigh; she'd understood next to nothing. She clasped Mimi's shoulder and spoke in a soft, calm voice, "Shh, it's alright. We'll figure something out." Taking what she already knew as well as the few snippets she'd gained from Mimi and Ronan, Timpani pieced together what had happened. "Mimi," she met the girl's ruby gaze, "from what I understand, the reason you can't turn into a human is because this young girl who passed away, Melody, was the…" she struggled to find the right word. "...model...for your human form. So this ability to turn into anyone you can see only extends to those who are alive. Is that correct?"

Mimi nodded, sniffling.

"Were you aware of this?"

She shook her head.

Timpani stood. "Alright. So there are certain things you don't know about this ability you possess. I would suggest we learn as much about it as possible so this kind of thing doesn't happen again, but first, we need to deal with the situation at hand."

Both children were looking up at Timpani with wide eyes. They fully trusted the woman to have the answer to their problems, but in truth, Timpani hadn't completely formulated a plan yet. She needed some time to think.

"What 're we goin' teh do?" Ronan spoke up, standing on his tiptoes for a moment before standing straight again. "Yeh've got a plan, right?"

Timpani ran a hand through her hair, suddenly getting an idea. "Yes, actually. But it'll have to wait until tonight."

"The Summer Festival is tonight!" Ronan piped up. "We can find Mimi a girl then!"

"Exactly," Timpani nodded, clasping her hands together. And someone else is coming tonight. You two know Blumiere, right?"

Ronan and Mimi exchanged an excited glanced and exclaimed simultaneously, "Blue!"

Timpani couldn't hold back a chuckle. It seemed the children had an appropriate nickname for the blue-faced man. "Yes, he's coming back tonight. Why don't we wait until he gets here, and then we'll work out how to solve this."

"He's okay?" Mimi piped up, her eyes filled with worry." Last time we saw him he was stole away by another blue-face!"

"He what?" Timpani's brow furrowed.

"I think it was 'is dad," Ronan added. "'Is dad came and took 'im 'ome. 'E looked real mad, too."

A dreadful feeling made Timpani's stomach churn. Blumiere hadn't mentioned much about his father, but given this information, she guessed Blumiere hadn't ended up at the bottom of the cliff because he'd been taking a walk.

Did he run away…? She couldn't help but wonder, and she began to worry that he might not make it tonight. Or perhaps he'll get back sooner than he intended…?

"I'd better go back and wait for him," She spoke her thoughts.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Mimi stared at the grass around her bare feet. Timpani's words had caused her to be concerned for Blumiere's wellbeing.

"He'll be fine, don't worry," Timpani assured, although the assurance was just as much for herself as it was for Mimi. "Will you two be alright with staying here until he gets back?" She wanted to ask Blumiere about a few things, and she didn't know if he'd be completely willing if the children were there.

Mimi was about to protest but Ronan, older and wiser, understood what Timpani was getting at. "Yeh, sure, Mimi an' I can stay 'ere. Let's play a game, Mimi!"

The green-skinned girl was easily swayed, and soon the two had begun a game of tag.

"I'll see you soon," Timpani waved, heading back the way she came. Blumiere was on her mind the entire walk to the top of the hill on the meadow, and as she sat to wait for the man's return, she started plotting ways to save both the children and Blumiere.

Prior to his first visit to the humans' town, Blumiere rarely fought with his father. He wasn't known to fight with anyone, and would much rather solve his problems peacefully instead of getting upset and starting a verbal war with the other person. His father, on the other hand, was quick to give into his temper and wouldn't hesitate to verbally berate or abuse another family member. Blumiere recalled many times when his older brothers had challenged his father's opinions or disobeyed him. And his brothers didn't hold their tongues either. During those fights, Blumiere would seek refuge with his mother. And, later on, at her grave.

But this time, his father was neither forceful nor peaceful, but silent. The tension in the air was palpable, and as Blumiere stared at his feet dangling over the edge of his bed, he struggled to keep his breathing regular and his worry at bay.

King Basile was sitting across from his son in a wooden desk chair, observing him with probing eyes. He hadn't said a word since Blumiere had arrived home, and he had been sitting there for nearly an hour already.

The noise of his pounding heart was the only sound Blumiere could hear, and that was hardly any consolation for him. Why isn't he saying anything? He wondered for what seemed like the hundredth time. Is he waiting for me to speak first? But what should I say? He stole a glance at his father and, upon meeting his gaze, redirected it to the floor, feeling his stomach contract in fear.

"I want you to tell me everything that happened."

When at last his father spoke, Blumiere nearly had a heart attack. It took him a moment to process what his father had asked. "Everything…?" he dared to look at him again. "Starting from where?"

"From the moment you ran away last night." Blumiere winced at the terminology his father had used. 'Ran away' suggested he'd done something criminal; intending to escape and never come back.

And starting from this point meant he'd have to explain how he escaped. He didn't want to rat out his uncle, but he also knew he couldn't lie to his father. And besides, Blumiere had a feeling his father knew Aldrik had helped him. He's likely testing me to see if I'll tell the truth right away.

He was trapped. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he prepared to tell the truth, but only what was absolutely necessary. "I...left of my own accord, but with the help of Aldrik."

King Basile was unfazed, which confirmed Blumiere's earlier speculations. "How did he help you?"

"He cloaked my soul signature so I could teleport undetected."

"And why did he help you?"

Blumiere recognized a change in the tone of his father's voice; he was transitioning from confirming information he already knew to interrogating for information he had yet to receive. Blumiere could do a bit of fabricating, now. "He wanted me to look for someone."

"Who?"

"I-I, uh, a friend of mother's," Blumiere's heart pounded. It was a terrible substitute for the true answer, but there was no way he was going to reveal to his father that Aldrik had a human wife. Besides, for all Blumiere knew, Sha'i might have known his mother.

Basile didn't like that answer either, for he leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at his son. "Do you actually believe your mother had friends?"

His harsh words surprised Blumiere. Of course his mother had had friends! She'd told him so many stories of the wonderful things she'd seen, and the intriguing traditions of the humans… But now that Blumiere thought about it… Had she ever mentioned any friends? "I-I guessed I assumed…"

"Aldrik must have lied to you. This person he's sending you after would not have known Anastaise." Basile took on the somber, flat tone with which he spoke every time he mentioned Queen Anastaise.

"But…" Blumiere hesitated, knowing it was not his place to ask questions at this moment. But he had to know. "Mother spent so much time with the humans. There's no way she couldn't have considered any of them friends." He thought of the humans he'd met so far. All of the ones who didn't throw rocks at him had become the first friends he'd ever had.

Basile didn't seem pleased that his interrogation was veering off track, but he answered Blumiere's question with vigor. "Your naivety has made you a fool, my son."

Blumiere winced.

"Do you actually think your mother interacted with any of the humans she saw?" When Blumiere didn't answer, he continued, "Anastaise hid in the shadows. Why do you think she only went at night? She stayed hidden and watched the humans from a distance, and the day they found her, they killed her!" By now King Basile's voice had raised several decibels.

Blumiere's stomach churned. He clutched the sheets of his bed beneath his hands, trying to pretend he didn't notice the tortured breaking of his father's voice. He should have known not to bring up mother.

But that wasn't the only reason he was feeling nauseous. If what his father said was true… That would explain why his mother never told him full stories of her visits into town...why she only promised to take him with her when he was older… "You...You're sure?" Blumiere was still in disbelief.

King Basile stood up, towering over Blumiere and glowering at him. "Your mother lays cold in her grave outside. What more evidence do you need?!" With that, Basile headed for the door. "You have told me all I need to know, Blumiere. I will see you again in the morning. And if you show up missing, there will be severe consequences." The door slammed behind him.

Stunned and alone, Blumiere sat frozen in time. His father's final words repeated relentlessly in his mind.

What more evidence do you need?!

The humans had murdered Queen Anastaise as soon as they'd seen her. Seven years later, they could have killed her son, too.

But they hadn't. Maybe it was because he'd left soon enough to escape, or maybe because they were too afraid of him to act right away. Whatever the reason, Blumiere was lucky to be alive. The truth of what his father had been saying all along hit him at last.

But as much as this truth scared him, he knew he couldn't stay away. At least, not from Ronan and Mimi and Timpani. He had to go back, and he'd promised Timpani it would be tonight.

But how in the worlds was he going to leave this time? There was no way his father was going to let Aldrik back in here, and his signature was no longer cloaked, or else his uncle wouldn't have found him this morning.

And if he managed to escape and wasn't back in the morning? His father had threatened something terrible if that happened.

Open-ended threats were the worst kind, Blumiere mused.

It was getting late. Blumiere stood before his window, longing in his cerulean gaze as he stared in the direction of Timpani's home. From here he could not see the plains or the lone tree that sat upon the hill, but he could picture the vivid colors of the flowers so clearly, we was sure he'd be able to teleport directly there.

But of course, that was impossible now. Unless he could learn to cloak his own signature, there was no way he'd be able to make it undetected.

"Aha ha ha ha!"

Blumiere jumped, spinning around and crying out in horror and confusion.

...or, he would have, were it not for the sudden pressure over his mouth, as if someone were clamping their hand there in order to keep him quiet. But there was no such person, or anything, as far as Blumiere could see.

"You weren't planning on jumping, were you? Aha. What a terrible way to go."

He tried to speak but could not, so he shook his head, eyebrows arched in fright.

As his mouth was freed, a figure materialized before Blumiere's eyes. A young boy dressed in a purple and beige poncho and black pants, gloves and pointed shoes appeared. His face was covered in a mask that was split black and white down the middle, bearing a perpetual grin and upturned eyes. A jester's hat similar to his poncho sat upon his head so that no part of his hair could be seen. In fact, there was not an inch of his body that was not covered by some sort of clothing. But what caught Blumiere's eye, more so than the bizarre outfit the child was wearing, was that he was hovering about two feet off the ground.

"Good, good!" the boy chirped, his voice muffled by the mask. He moved his right hand, touching first his mouth and then the open palm of his left hand. "It would be a shame if you died before I had the chance to introduce myself."

Blumiere blinked, slightly disgusted. He waited for the alluded 'introduction.'

"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out by now, cousin."

Silence overcame the room as Blumiere processed what the boy had said. Cousin…? So then… He must be… "You're Aldrik's son," he uttered. That would explain the levitation. He must have inherited Aldrik's magical abilities. Blumiere wondered how Aldrik's magic could have been stronger and more hereditary than Basile's, the wielder of the Dark Prognosticus himself, but he didn't think he could get an answer to that at the moment.

"That I am," the boy said, tearing Blumiere from his thoughts, "I am Aldrik's first and only son: the Master of Dimensions and Pleaser of Crowds!" He spun mid air and bowed. "I am… Dimentio!"

He certainly didn't inherit Aldrik's dry personality, Blumiere thought. "That's, er… quite the title, Dimentio." The name felt odd on his tongue. "I'm Blumiere, unless… Unless you already knew that." He furrowed his brow, still struggling to comprehend the situation.

"I did know that, and yes, I am aware of the splendor of my title. It is one I wear with pride."

Blumiere was about to ask where he acquired such a title, but thought better of it.

"Anyway, dear cousin," Dimentio pressed on, "I have been sent here by my father to aid you in your escape. You see, father desperately wants to find my mother, or, at least, receive confirmation of death. She disappeared about a year after my birth and was never seen again, aha ha." He paused to change his position, so now he was 'laying' on his stomach, supported by nothing but air. "Father can't leave the castle, and I don't exist, aha. So that leaves you." Dimentio jabbed a finger towards Blumiere.

The older man nodded slowly, growing more uneasy by the moment. There was something not right about the boy; he seemed to be around seven or eight years old, and yet he spoke with the fluidity and intelligence of someone Blumiere's age, or older. That, combined with the perpetual smile on the mask he wore and the fact that he resembled a living jester's costume rather than a boy, gave him an eerie aura that made Blumiere feel disturbed and uncomfortable.

"Father already aided you in escaping once," Dimentio continued, hovering a bit closer to Blumiere. "He took your signature, correct?"

"Yes," Blumiere's voice wavered.

"Aha ha ha. Then I'm sure you know what to do."

Blumiere did know, and he was not thrilled by the idea of doing it again. "You wouldn't happen to know a different method, would you?"

Dimentio was silent for a moment, then burst into semi-manic laughter. "Aha ha ha ha! A different method? Believe me, dear cousin, if there was another way, I would have found out by now."

Taking a few steps backwards, Blumiere swallowed, his eyes growing wide.

"I'm sure you've noticed by now that I have no soul signature of my own."

Blumiere hadn't thought to check, but now that he'd mentioned it, he realized the boy was telling the truth. I never felt him teleport into the room, either. He gave a quick nod.

"Of course I don't. Because I don't exist, remember? Aha ha. So think about this: every morning, at exactly seven o'clock, father cloaks my signature. It must be done at exactly the right moment, for if you cloak a signature that is already cloaked…" he trailed off and snickered, before getting back on track. "Then, every evening, at exactly seven o'clock, my signature is cloaked again. Twice a day, it must be cloaked, for I must not be known to exist. Every day since I was born I've endured this pain. The burning sensation, like thousands of fire ants crawling across my skin. The cold, paralyzing ice that crawls through my blood. Aha ha ha ha ha. Such a thing should kill a child. But here I am. Lucky me. Aha."

Blumiere could feel the sweat trickling down his forehead. "So that… That would make sense, yes…" He didn't know what else to say. At this point, he just wanted to leave and find Timpani.

"Don't worry, it won't be so bad. I promise. You'll get used to it." Blumiere swore he heard mocking in his tone, and for that reason he still did not give up his hands.

The motley-clad boy inched closer. "Come now, cousin. This is the only way. You want to go back, don't you? And see that woman again…"

"Wha-?!" Blumiere bit back an exclamation, wary of the possibility that someone outside might hear him. "How did you…?"

"Father might have mentioned a woman he saw you talking to," Dimentio commented offhandedly. "I'm sure you want to see her again."

Blumiere nodded, unsure of how to reply to that.

"Of course. Just be careful if you decide to have a little fun. Unexpected...mistakes might happen. Like me. Aha ha ha ha."

"Excuse me?" Blumiere furrowed his brow, disgusted that Dimentio would even suggest such a thing. I would never! Timpani and I aren't even- Well, she might have kissed me, but… That doesn't mean…! He knew he was blushing, so he covered his cheeks with his hands.

Dimentio continued to laugh. "Be careful, Blumiere," he repeated, grabbing for his hands. Blumiere didn't resist, instead taking a deep breath in attempt to prepare for the pain he knew was coming.

Somehow, he managed to hold back his cries of agony as the magic entered his bloodstream. Dimentio did not say a word; he watched as Blumiere clenched his teeth and took in labored breaths through his nose.

"Good to go!" The masked boy chirped, twirling midair.

Blumiere closed his eyes, trying to focus on the meadow with the tree and the flowers, and Timpani's smiling face…

"Oh, and one more thing."

"...What?"

"Don't forget to look for my mother. I'll give you a hint. She's a human. Aha."

Dimentio's laughter faded away as Blumiere entered void-space.