Remember

Episode Five: Rift

Chapter Three

Soaked to the bone and feeling utterly broken, Timpani sobbed into the mud at the base of the cliff, the very place she'd discovered Blumiere's body only two days ago. Since then, she'd grown so close to the blue-skinned man that she felt their bond may exceed any she had with another human. She also hadn't slept a wink since then, and if she weren't still in the general vicinity of said blue-skinned man's father, she would have gratefully passed out right then and there, likely to be choked by the sucking mud.

For a moment she considered letting the mud swallow her up. This spell wouldn't last forever, so if she waited long enough, surely it would eventually allow her to die, never to see her aunt and uncle again. Never to see Blumiere again…

Oh, Blumiere! If only he hadn't— If only she hadn't— But there were so many reasons both of them were at fault, at fault for all of this… The arousal of a hibernating hostility, and the slaughter of so many of her own people… If only they hadn't—

With a cry of exasperation, she chased those thoughts from her head. Pushing upward with her arms, she attempted to stand but, try as she may, her body just wasn't ready to allow her to get up yet. She could feel Merletoph's spell easing away at her aches, but her right leg was twisted in a way she knew wasn't natural, despite the absence of pain.

After a minute or so of fruitless struggling, Timpani gasped as she finally felt a significant amount of pain in her leg. She could also feel it moving, twisting back around until it was in a less-concerning position. It was surely the spell at work, but it was not something Timpani was prepared to handle at that moment. Gritting her teeth against the mud and clay that coated her mouth, she forced back screams as the spell reconnected muscle to bone cell by cell, mending the broken limb at a pace Timpani swore was slower than what a surgeon could manage. But about five minutes later it was done, and Timpani was finally able to struggle to her feet.

Only to meet the eyes of Blumiere.

He was still several meters away from her, and so she stood frozen, eyebrows arched over her wide crystal orbs.

Blumiere! Oh, Blumiere… In that moment, the only word she could think of was his name. Blumiere, Blumiere, why, Blumiere?!

Her throat constricted and sorrow came crashing over her like a storm, carrying with it a torrent of hurt and despair. Tears bubbled at the corners of her eyes, blurring the face of the man she… Of the man who was causing her such grief.

He took a step forward; she spun on her heel and ran.

It took Dimentio less than a second to realize he'd left his mask, hat, and gloves in Merletoph's house. He hovered above the shingled obsidian of the castle's roof, staring with his unobstructed eyes down at his pale hands. His long hair tickled his face as it was ruffled by the wind, and for a moment Dimentio stopped to take in these new sensations. It felt good. He could see so much more without the mask obscuring his vision. He brushed his hair out of his eyes, surprised by how soft it felt on his bare fingers.

He knew he could not stay like this for long. In less than half an hour his father would be here to conceal his existence, and if he saw him like this…

Would he even recognize me? His father hadn't seen his face since he was old enough to eat and levitate on his own. That was when he'd given Dimentio the magically fitted mask and the all-concealing clothes. But, it didn't matter whether or not his father would recognize him. The real problem was Aldrik's reaction to his missing mask. He would ask why Dimentio wasn't wearing it, and then ask where it had gone...which would lead unerringly to revealing the talk he'd had with Merletoph.

The obvious solution was to return to Merletoph's house and retrieve the mask himself. After the incident with the wounded woman, however, Dimentio didn't know if he could face the old man.

Who cares what he thinks of you? A dark voice in his head prodded. If father were in your position, he would have gone back and killed the old sage. Dimentio pushed the voice away. He knew he couldn't kill his grandfather.

And that was when he realized: he knew he couldn't be like his father. His hands shook as he was attacked by this cognizance, however, his chest was filled with an unfamiliar warmth and a smile appeared on his face.

For the entirety of his life, he'd been under the assumption that being a mage like his father was the only option he had. It wasn't that he wanted to, or even that he had a choice in the matter; before he met Merletoph, he wasn't even aware of a second 'choice.' But now Merletoph's words held meaning.

"It is your decision alone."

And it was clear to him now what decision he had to make.

But how are you going to do that? The dark voice had returned. Father will never let you leave him, and besides, Merletoph is probably afraid of you, now.

Dimentio shook his head. He would figure it out. He would figure himself out, even if he needed help. And he knew there was only one person who could.

With the smile still present on his face, the conflicted magician disappeared.

The smile leveled out as he reappeared in an empty bedroom. The injured humans were still present, yes, but Merletoph was missing. After a quick search of the rest of the house (and a near run-in with the mechanical miracle Mimi), Dimentio concluded that his grandfather had vacated his home entirely. Dejected, he returned to the bedroom to retrieve his mask, hat, and gloves. He would need to return to his father whether he liked it or not. It was now even nearer to seven o'clock, and the existence of his signature would give him more problems than freedoms.

Before he could leave again, the purpled arm of the injured woman caught his eye. It still wasn't healed; in fact, it looked like it had gotten worse.

Why isn't Merletoph healing it? But the scroll was gone, too. Maybe the light spell had failed?

His heart lurched as he recalled how he'd nearly ended this woman's life. She still had a fighting chance, and he'd almost taken that from her.

If I am to choose a path of light…

He was running out of time, but Dimentio was compelled to try something. It had worked with the other wounds on the boy and this woman, so it was worth a try for this injury as well. Once again he placed his hand on the woman's wrist, feeling the weakened heartbeat pounding through the dark sludge that was infecting her veins. If he could draw that darkness out of her and into his own body, he might be able to stop it from spreading or even heal it completely. He didn't know what effects it would have on his own body, but taking the darkness out of the other two wounds had only caused him a moment's worth of pain.

His ears roared as their heartbeats synced. A sudden jolt of fear struck him; this was his turning point the last time he'd connected with the wound. But he willed himself to keep a clear head, and to focus on his task. This time he was going to heal her.

Then, pain snaked up his arm with such ferocity that he almost pulled away from the woman. A howl that was not his own split the air and the woman shifted on the bed, causing her arm to jolt. Dimentio held on through the movement and through his own pain, which by now had reached his head and was blurring his vision. It seemed to stop there though, which was a good sign. The blood magic had not yet reached her heart.

Then, the woman jerked her arm away, and Dimentio lost the connection. An explosive agony filled his head and he collapsed on the floor, gritting his teeth. He clutched at his head, hoping it would fade like it had before.

A few minutes passed and he was still in considerable pain. He was aware that his time here was running out, so he forced himself to get to his feet. His vision was still blurred, but as he stood he could see that the woman was sitting up in the bed, holding the blanket up to her chest with her arm, which was pale and devoid of purple veins. She stared at him with mild curiosity; a bit of fear sparkled in her eyes. Dimentio could only smile weakly behind his mask, surprised that he'd managed to heal her.

The woman's lips moved but he couldn't hear her. With no time for conversation anyway, Dimentio simply nodded at her and, for the second time that morning, teleported back to the roof of the Tribe's castle.

It was a minute before seven when Aldrik arrived. It was not uncommon for him to arrive so close to the hour, but this time Dimentio detected an urgency in his father that suggested he was worried he might not make it in time. The young magician's head was still giving him trouble and he was not seeing straight, so Dimentio concluded that perhaps he was imagining things. He had no wish to converse with his father anyway, and he couldn't care less where he'd been. He wanted to get this over with so he could go search for Merletoph. He was hoping the sage might have a remedy for his pain.

"Hands."

Dimentio and his father usually signed to each other when they met like this, and this time he was grateful for their nonverbal communication. He didn't think he would be able to hear his father because of the pounding in his head.

Surrendering his hands, Dimentio waited for his father to cloak his signature. As soon as Aldrik touched his wrist, however, he knew something was off. His skin was so tender he had to bite back a cry of pain, and when the cloaking spell entered his bloodstream it felt as though his body was fighting it. His vision darkened until he was completely blind and his head pounded thunderously, completely blocking out his hearing.

Aldrik released him and left without another word, as he always did. Now that he was alone, Dimentio was overwhelmed by fear. He was even losing his ability to sense his father's signature, which should have extremely powerful given he'd just teleported.

Afraid that he might soon lose his ability to teleport altogether, Dimentio hastily warped back to Merletoph's house.

"Timpani, why? Why do you avoid me?"

Blumiere wove through the trees, tripping over sticks and getting stuck in the mud as he pursued the human woman. But she was having just as much trouble, and he was catching up to her.

Worry weighed heavily on him. Why was she running away from him? And why was she here? Was she involved in the fight between his family and the humans?

Talk to me, don't run! He silently pleaded. He didn't want to lose her, especially not without knowing what had happened.

He had gained enough ground to reach her now. With an outstretched hand, he grabbed her shoulder, trying to slow her down. He retracted his hand when she cried out in pain, but when she continued trying to escape him he made a gentler grab for her arm, hoping to get her to face him.

"Ow… ow! Unhand me!" Blumiere got his wish as Timpani whirled towards him with a fury in her eyes. But as soon as their gazes met, she broke down again, sobbing pitifully.

"Huh? You're crying?"

Frustrated that it had taken him this long to notice, Timpani yanked her arm away with a huff.

"Why?" Blumiere stepped closer, making sure she wouldn't try to run again. "Timpani, you must tell me what has happened!"

"It's nothing…" the woman managed in between sobs. "Don't worry about it… Just forget it…"

Blumiere reached out to her but stopped suddenly when he noticed something on Timpani's neck. Is that...? He recognized a dull stain, the blackened blood of an unfinished contact magic spell. So she was at the battle! And she got hit, but by who? A numbing thought hit him. "Oh no…" His heart pounded. "Timpani, is my father behind this?!"

That was his first guess. He didn't expect it to be and certainly hoped it wasn't right, but Timpani's sobbing grew louder and she nodded her head.

"I'm… I'm just an ordinary girl," she whispered. "A h-human…"

Blumiere didn't like where this was going. Desperate, he cried, "But that doesn't matter, remember? L-like you said, anyone with a heart would not… Timpani, I don't care if you're a human, I-I still…"

She was shaking her head. "This is goodbye, Blumiere."

Stunned, he could only stare at her in disbelief. "What…?"

"I said this is goodbye, Blumiere! We can't see each other anymore! You have to stay away from me!"

"N-no, you're wrong… It's alright—"

"It's not alright, Blumiere! We were foolish to believe we could have something of a normal relationship!"

A shattered cry came from Blumiere; it was obvious he was fighting tears. This was so unlike the Timpani he knew. "What did my father do to you…?"

It was that question that finally broke Timpani. Quivering, she fell to her knees and gave in to silent, heaving sobs. "P-please…. Le-leave…"

"No!" Blumiere knelt down next to Timpani and wrapped his arms around her, hanging on for dear life. "I won't leave you here like this, Timpani. I will keep you safe!"

"Idiot!" Timpani gasped, trying to break free. "You can do n-nothing! You are a prisoner in y-your own home!"

Unable to deny the truth, Blumiere whimpered and clung to Timpani as she struggled.

"You are pathetic and stubborn and foolish!" Timpani yelled, tears still streaming down her face. "Now let me g-go!"

She heard him breathing shakily in her ear, and as he pulled away from her she noticed that he was crying as well. He sat in the mud and did not move, even as she stood up.

"...Goodbye, Blumiere."

"Timpani, wait."

She saw the desperation in his eyes and knew what he was going to say next, the words that had been on the tip of both of their tongues for some time now.

"I love you. I love you, Timpani. Please, don't go!"

"That's exactly why I have to go!" She was furious, absolutely furious that he'd finally said it, right before she was going to put this all behind her. "I love you too, Blumiere, there's no denying that! But we are in danger, Blumiere!" Taking notice of the blood crusting the wound on his arm, Timpani continued, "See?! You're wounded! That happened during the fight, no doubt! A-and that never would have happened if we'd—"

"Timpani..."

"If we'd never met!"

"Don't say that," Blumiere's voice was pleading. "W-we can find a way…"

"Shut up!" Sadness and anger fought to take control of Timpani's voice. Fists balled, her next words came out in a hoarse yell. "Don't you understand how much I want there to be a way for us to stay together? Why can't you just let me go? Why do you have to make this harder for me? You think you can make everything better just by wishing, Blumiere, but you can't! There is no possible way we could stay together, and you are only torturing me by begging me to stay with you longer! Now let me leave! This is our goodbye, Blumiere, and this is our fate!"

She waited for a moment to see if he would say anything. He did not.

"Goodbye, Blumiere."

She wanted finality. He didn't know if he could give it to her.

"You can't even give me this, can you?" the raspy whisper was such a contrast to her previous tone that Blumiere almost didn't catch it. But when he did, he looked up at her, hurt.

"You won't even let me say goodbye?!"

The tears dripped silently off of his chin. "To say goodbye is to admit that I'll never see you again."

"That would be for the better," she spat, turning away from him. Timpani left him there in the mud, where he waited to see if she would return to him.

She disappeared without turning back once.

Dimentio appeared on the floor of Merletoph's living room, numb to the world. He wasn't even entirely sure he'd made it there properly, but he could feel carpet beneath his hands, so wherever he was, it would do until he regained his senses.

He tore the mask away from his face as nausea afflicted his stomach. A moment later he retched onto whatever was in between his hands, which he hoped was only his mask and the floor. He barely had time to take a breath before he retched again. A terrible taste filled his mouth, one he determined was a mixture of blood and dirt. If his vision wasn't still obscured, he would be able to see what was coming out of him, but for now, he could only assume he was throwing up the remainder of the contact magic spell he'd taken from the woman.

It was right before he vomited for the third time that he felt a hand on his back, rubbing gently in between his shoulders. He found it soothing, and he pressed into it, eager to feel someone else's presence near him. He picked up a soul signature that had a light quality to it; he realized it must be Merletoph's. It struck him that he'd never felt the old man's signature before, despite having searched for it. Why he was able to feel it now was a mystery he hardly had time to delve into, however, as another wave of nausea overcame him. At last, the pain in his head was easing.

The hand on his back disappeared, leaving him alone in darkness again. It soon returned and guided him to a sitting position. He leaned back against what he assumed was the couch and felt something warm touching his eyes. It wasn't until his vision brightened that he realized Merletoph was using a wet cloth to clean his face. He could see that the moistened fabric was beginning to turn black.

That spell must have been coming out of my eyes, as well, he concluded. That would explain why I couldn't see. He glanced at the floor and saw more of the black liquid there. His assumption was correct; this was the way his body was expelling the magic he'd absorbed from the woman. Now he could feel it clogging his ears too, and he began to rub at it with his hands. Merletoph shook his head and pushed Dimentio's hands away, insisting he clean it himself. Dimentio's hands dropped to his side as he gave in, exhausted. He allowed Merletoph to remove the gunk from his face without any further complaints.

When at last he could hear again, Merletoph's voice was the first sound to reach his ears. "You healed her, didn't you?" A broad smile brightened the sage's face. "I tried the scroll, but it only stopped the poison from spreading. I left to retrieve another one, and when I returned, she was miraculously healed, and was asking about a boy in a mask."

Dimentio, despite being slightly offended by his grandfather referring to the magic that coursed through his blood as 'poison', offered a weak smile in return. "Aha ha. I healed her."

"And it left you in such a poor condition. Were you aware of these consequences?"

The magician shook his head. "I don't think I would have done it if I knew. I'm just glad it's all out of me now." He glanced at the floor and grinned, showing off blackened teeth. "Aha. Terribly sorry about the mess."

"I am just glad you are safe." Merletoph's golden eyes glittered with an emotion that Dimentio scarcely recognized. He couldn't quite remember the word for it, but he was reminded of what he needed to tell his grandfather.

"I want you to teach me white magic," Dimentio said, his enfeebled voice now serious. "And… I want to try to find my mother, too."

It wasn't until tears welled up beneath the yellow irises that Dimentio finally placed the word. Moments later, Merletoph gave the emotion a voice. "I am so proud of you. Your mother will be, too."

Proud… With that one word, Dimentio's playful facade shattered. Suddenly he melted into the eight-year-old child he was supposed to be; a child who had just turned his back on his father and made a decision that would change his life. A scared child who had never had anyone to lean on. Thousands of emotions crowded his mind; excitement, fear, uncertainty, anticipation; and as Merletoph embraced him, they all flowed out of him through his tears.

Proud…

He imagined his mother, kind and beautiful, smiling at him and saying those words.

"I'm proud of you."