Remember

Episode Six: The Gateway

Chapter One

Sweat-slicked hair was swept out of tortured red eyes that glowed in the pressing darkness of the bedroom. Too afraid to wake the newly-appointed king, he scarcely drew breath as he hovered by the man's side.

His hands, clenched into fists at his sides, were trembling, seconds away from striking out and thrashing his brother awake. But he waited, mulling over what to say when the king awoke.

"Aldrik?" Hearing his name spoken so clearly in the thick blackness startled him; his quaking hands jolted into a defensive position. Instinctively he squeezed his eyes shut, hiding the crimson light.

"What are you doing here?" King Basile's voice was tight with a weary irritation. Aldrik felt a pang of guilt; he knew the king was struggling to get enough sleep. With the recent battles between the Tribe and the humans, none of them were getting the proper amount of rest. Nonetheless, there was something that needed to be said, and now was one of the few times that they could be truly alone.

"I...need to speak with you, brother."

"Now, Aldrik? It cannot wait until—?"

"Have you felt it yet, Basile? The Dark Prognosticus' pull?"

"What…" Fabric rustled as Basile sat up. "You wake me up in the middle of the night to torture me with questions you know the answers to?"

Aldrik's breath caught in his throat. Never before had his brother answered this question so forcefully.

"It's taunting me." Basile's voice was quieter now, shaking with emotion. "I can feel the darkness, but it is just beyond my grasp. Even now, even as the Tribe's King, it...refuses me."

Aldrik gritted his teeth as he tried to block out his brother's confessions, willing that he not be affected and lose his resolve.

"Our family sees nothing but a weak man who cannot protect his own people from human assaults… Our grandmother died because I did not have the power to stop them!"

"But I do, brother! I have that power! I could save us from these attacks!" His eyes flew open, revealing the blood-red eyes of a wielder. "Look, brother! The Prognosticus choose me!"

"What…?"

"Give me the throne, brother. Please. I can save our Tribe. The Prognosticus has been training me since birth for this moment. I am powerful enough to obliterate all of the humans who have wronged us!"

"You mean… all this time… every day I spent toiling away in darkness, years of effort I put into getting stronger and you wait until now to tell me? You watched me struggle for the entirety of my life and said nothing?!"

Aldrik wanted to tell Basile about the many times they'd had this conversation, and how every single time, no matter how old they were, he'd faced rejection at the hands of his older brother. "It was for this very reason that I didn't, Basile! I knew you'd be upset, so I thought I could hide it. But the Tribe needs the help of the Dark Prognosticus, or we are all going to die!"

"No! I will protect them myself! It is my duty as King!"

"But you've already failed, brother. You said it yourself. Our grandmother's death was your own fault. You could not stop the humans who killed her."

"I will not allow any more casualties! I do not need your help!" Basile's words were wrenched out through clenched teeth.

"Stubborn fool!" Aldrik gasped. "You are condemning us to death!"

"You dare call your king a fool?!"

"You are not my king, brother," Aldrik said, his tone firm. His red eyes glowed brighter as he took a few steps in his brother's direction.

"I have worked harder for this throne than any wielder has! You ought to bow before me!"

"You must give that title to its rightful owner, Basile."

"You could never be king, Aldrik! You've lived your life as a servant. Even if you were to gain such power, you have no heir! The Tribe would start to dwindle within a generation!"

That was indeed something Aldrik had pondered. "Perhaps Lucienne or Anastaise—"

"How dare you?!" Basile lunged for his brother. "I'll kill you! Then the Dark Prognosticus will have no choice but to call to me!"

The scuffle was over before it had a chance to begin. Aldrik was already standing, putting him at an advantage, and as his older brother flew at him, he dodged to one side and caught Basile's arm. In an instant, he was frozen, the result of a contact spell from Aldrik. The younger brother placed his thumbs over the king's temples.

"I really wish you would see things my way, Basile," Aldrik muttered. "Someday I will take the throne from you. Until then, I will allow you to go on thinking you are fit to be king."

A furious growl was all Basile could manage in reply.

"Goodnight, brother. Perhaps things will be different… next time."

Dimentio had always wondered what it might feel like to take a bath. He closed his eyes, feeling every muscle in his body relax as it was wrapped in the warm blanket of water. He wished he could relish this experience, but he knew Merletoph was waiting for him to finish so they could talk about his mother. That alone was motivation for him to get out as soon as possible, but for a moment longer he wanted to enjoy laying in the hot water.

His wrist was still sore and his head ached, but for the most part, the pain was fading. He could feel his father's soul signature tugging at the corner of his mind, and while he was relieved he'd regained his ability to sense it, it was not a comforting presence. Closer was the sunny signature of Merletoph. It felt unlike any soul signature he'd ever come into contact with; he assumed that was because Merletoph was a sage. Sages must have different soul signatures, he concluded. Still unsolved was the mystery of why he was able to sense it now when he hadn't been able to before.

Dimentio sat up, immediately shivering as the cold air greeted his skin. He exited the tub and grabbed the towel Merletoph left him, using it like a blanket to shield himself from the coolness of the bathroom.

There was a tall mirror on one wall that he'd avoided on his way in. He had his back to it now. Throwing the towel over his head like a hood, he peeked backward, and for the first time, looked into his own eyes.

...woah.

He approached the reflective glass, entranced by what he saw. His right eye was as deep blue as the night sky, pulsating and glowing in a way that resembled the eyes of his father. The left eye, a stunning yellow that glittered with golds and ivories, was an exact copy of Merletoph's, and likely his mother's eyes. He covered the dark eye with his hand and wondered if, with his hair this long, he really did look like his mother.

His shoulder-length, brown hair was still dripping with water from the bath, so he rubbed it with the towel a bit more. It then occurred to him that he had no idea how to style it, for he'd had no need to before. It fell into his face every time he moved his head, no matter how many times he tucked it behind his ears. Frustrated, he decided to wait until it was dry, and put on the clean clothes Merletoph had provided him.

It was a little small on him, but he managed to squeeze into a pale yellow shirt. It was wider at the bottom and reached just above his knees, similar to the poncho he usually wore, so he felt comfortable, despite the tight sleeves. The gray pants were bigger and easier to fit into, but not nearly as soft.

Tucking his unruly hair behind his ear one last time, he picked up the towel and his old clothes and prepared to exit the bathroom.

When he opened the door, however, he was unable to leave. Standing right in the doorway was the little green girl from earlier, hands on her hips and a pout on her face. Before he could say anything to her, she exclaimed, "You sure took a long time! I—hey!" Her eyes widened and she barged into the room, stepping closer to him. "Why are you wearing my dress?!"

Dimentio floated up and away from her so he was above her head, nearly brushing the ceiling with his wet hair.

"I am not," he said, staring right into her furious red eyes. A slight blush rose to his cheeks as he realized she could see his entire face. He broke his gaze away from hers.

"Hey, you're flying, too!" The girl drew closer. Dimentio's shoulders pressed against the ceiling. "Come back down here and give me my dress back!"

"Oh, this?" Dimentio gestured to the yellow fabric he was wearing as a shirt. "It didn't even occur to me that this might be a dress. It's far too ugly."

The green-skinned girl deflated, her shoulders drooping. "Ugly…?" She squeaked, tilting her head to the side. Then, anger consumed the timidity in her voice, and she tilted her head to the other side with a sharp snap. "Ugly?!"

He didn't entirely understand why his statement had caused such a reaction from her—he'd only been telling the truth—but, remembering that this was the same girl who had turned into a monstrosity at the festival last night, Dimentio decided it would be best not to irritate her further. "I'm...only saying you deserve to...to wear much better," he fumbled for something to say that would calm her down.

"Mimi?"

Both magician and miracle ceased their conversation and turned to the door of the bathroom. There stood Merletoph, arms crossed, concern flashing in his yellow eyes.

"Are you bothering our guest?"

Indignant, Mimi frowned and pointed at Dimentio. "He stole my dress and called it ugly! He deserves to be bothered!"

Merletoph took a step into the bathroom and knelt down, motioning for Mimi to come closer to him. She obeyed, albeit reluctantly. Dimentio watched them with curious eyes.

"My dear, I gave Dimentio your dress to wear because he has no other clean clothes. And no one deserves to be bothered, no matter how mean they are to you. Remember what we talked about?" His amber eyes prompted her to tell him.

The green-skinned girl hummed as she tried to recall the exact words. "Be kind to everyone, because kindness means friendship?"

Merletoph smiled. "Kindness yields the sweetness of friendship. And anger yields…?"

"Only what is bitter," Mimi stood up straight as she remembered.

"Exactly. So what do you think you should do now?"

"Three things?"

"Three things," the sage nodded.

Mimi appeared as though she were about to pout, but then thought better of it as she turned to Dimentio with a smile on her face.

"I think it's really cool that you can fly," she said, "and… your hair would look nice if you brushed it."

"Mimi," Merletoph chided.

"Sorry," she muttered, sagging her shoulders. "Okay, one more thing… Uhm… I guess my dress does look okay on you."

A bemused expression settled on Merletoph's face as he patted Mimi on the back. "Good. Now, Dimentio, why don't you try and say something nice to Mimi?"

Dimentio stared at him. "Something nice?"

"Yeah!" Mimi chimed in, "It's Papa's 'Three Things' rule! If you say something mean to someone you have to tell them three nice things to make up for it."

Did I say something mean? Was calling her dress ugly considered a mean thing to say? That must have been what she was referring to, he decided. I was telling her the truth. It really is an ugly dress. It then occurred to Dimentio that his view of what was right and wrong might be vastly different from the right and wrong Mimi and Merletoph knew. How do I know I'm not doing something wrong right now?

His feet touched the ground, and he met Merletoph's expectant gaze. The sage was waiting for him to say something.

"You…" He furrowed his brow. Why is this so hard? Suddenly self-conscious, he longed for the protection of his mask. "You...you're made of magic, which is...strange, but not bad."

Merletoph gave him a half-smile. "Alright. That's a good start, Dimentio. We can work on that later." He stood.

"Wait, but that's only one thing!" Mimi interjected. "He still needs to say two more!"

Dimentio watched with glazed eyes as Merletoph guided Mimi out of the bathroom and whispered something to her privately. He was still straining to think of something nice, something that he knew for sure was nice to say to another person. She said something about my hair. But...what if I don't like her hair? Why would I lie about something just for the sake of it being 'nice'? He narrowed his eyes as he continued to ponder the subject. Does Mimi actually like my hair? Did she actually mean any of the things she said to me, or was she saying them only because she had to?

"Dimentio?" He looked up into Merletoph's yellow eyes.

"Yes?"

"Come, let's get you something to eat. Then, we can talk about your mother."

Soaked from the rain and still caked with mud, Blumiere sat on top of the blankets on his bed, leaning against the magically-crafted obsidian headboard. His gaze was fixed on the wall opposite him, glazed and vacant. He was aware of his father's presence; he could feel his piercing stare as it traveled over him, judging or perhaps mocking him, but he did not care to acknowledge him.

"You needn't try to make excuses for yourself anymore."

Basile's voice shattered the silence like a rock crashing through a window, tumbling, then landing in an empty, unattended room.

"I know exactly why you were sneaking out, and why you were cloaking your soul signature." He hurled another stone. "I am more than disappointed in you, Blumiere."

The prince of darkness moved not an inch, persistent in his vigil.

Basile picked up a boulder. "The filthy human woman you loved is dead! I killed her!"

The wall holding back Blumiere's emotions crumbled. Tears sprang from his eyes and tumbled down his cheeks, leaving a clean streak through the dirt. His lips trembled as he swallowed back the sobs that quivered in his throat.

He knew Timpani was still alive. He knew she would be safe, far away from him. But with that knowledge came the understanding that he would never see her again. That she didn't want to see him again. And that, possibly, was worse than her being dead.

"You shed tears for one human but care not for the countless others that lay dead on the grass outside our door?"

"Le…"

"For the humans that you killed?"

"Leave…"

"Pathetic."

"Leave me be! Let me be alone!" Furious cerulean eyes wet with tears latched onto Basile. The king's own eyes widened, as if he didn't expect such defiance from his own son. Then his expression hardened.

"Very well. Rot in here for all I care." He left without another word.

Blumiere's sorrow-filled gaze returned to the wall. He sat still until his tears dried, and his mind and body numbed.

The rain had begun to fall again, striking through Timpani's already soaked dress like tiny balls of hail. As she stumbled out of the crowded trees and onto the cobblestone road, she doubled over, trying to catch her breath, but every time she inhaled, another sob coughed its way out of her throat.

Fear forced her to keep going. She was still too close to the castle here, still in danger of being spotted by one of the mages who lived inside of it. She didn't know if Blumiere was able to see her from where he was, but she didn't want to take any chances. Stumbling down the vacant street, she was suddenly terrified at the thought of being alone. There was no one outside, which was unusual, even in the rain. She pictured the townsfolk, usually out trying to sell their wares or share stories with friends, and imagined they were huddled away in their houses, as horrified of the mages as she was.

The sound of the rain drumming on the road covered up her footsteps. She trudged onward as through a town of ghosts, her cries of pain and grief swept away by the wind, heard by no one.

She passed through the town square and turned right down a narrow street lined with houses. Four houses down was the one she was looking for.

One… She counted the houses as she passed them, trying to give her mind something to do other than worry. Two… Three… Four…

She burst through the door and closed it tightly behind her. Collapsing against the wall, she gulped in breaths, trying to calm herself down. She was safe now.

"Timpani?" She recognized her aunt's voice. "Oh! Oh my goodness, what happened to you?!" Warm hands supported her and helped her walk over to a couch, where she crumpled into a heap, soaked with rainwater. A second voice called to her.

"Timpani! We haven't seen you in days, where have you been?" Her uncle stepped closer to her. "Are you hurt? Were you involved in the battle?"

She turned her crystal blue eyes to her aunt, and then to her uncle. "I…" But as soon as she tried to speak, the only thing that could come out of her mouth was a cough, and then she was sobbing again. A gasp came from her aunt's mouth, and then arms wrapped around her shoulders.

"Oh, you poor child, you're soaking wet. Emmak, get her a towel, would you?" He nodded and left, returning a moment later with a gray towel. He handed it to Timpani, and she wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Tha-ank you," she sputtered, still struggling to catch her breath. Emmak put a hand on her head, brushing her matted hair behind her ears.

"Tell us what happened to you," her aunt's words were gentle, but her statement felt as heavy as a stone to Timpani. What had happened? Where was she supposed to begin?

When did this all start? When I met Blumiere? Was it before that? How long has it been since I've started seeing Mimi around? How long has Merletoph passed me on the streets without me even knowing?

"Rebecca, maybe we oughtn't to—not now, anyway," Emmak seemed to recognize the conflict in his niece's expression.

Suddenly, Timpani stood up. "I have to go," she said, wrapping the towel tightly around herself. "I-I have to, one of my-my friends, he's in danger."

"Where? Let me go with you," Emmak offered.

"No!" Timpani backed away, heading for the door. "No, thank you, b-but I have to go a-alone."

"Timpani!"
"Are you sure?"

"Trust me! I-I need you to stay here, please, I-I'll be back soon, I promise."

Emmak and Rebecca exchanged a glance. "If you must…" Emmak said, worry creasing his brow. "But please, Timpani, be careful."

She opened the door to the pouring rain, taking the towel with her. "Don't follow me," she called behind her as she stepped outside, "please."

Ignoring the protests of her aching limbs, Timpani began to run back the way she came, heading for the forest on the other side of town. She focused all of her thoughts on Ronan, refusing to allow herself to think of anything else.

I left him in the hands of that boy. He said he took them to Merletoph, but what if Merletoph couldn't help him? Oh, please, let him be alright!

She sent several more prayers to the stars, and among them, her heart prayed that Blumiere would be alright, too.

"Why don't you tell me everything you remember about your mother?"

Dimentio chewed the piece of buttered bread Merletoph had given him, a contemplative look on his face. So far, everything I thought I knew about my mother has been wrong, he realized. I don't...even know what her soul signature feels like. "She left," he shrugged. "Right after I was born. I...guess I don't know why anymore."

"Is that all? Your father never talked about her?"

Dimentio forced himself to grin. Only that it was my fault she left. She couldn't bear to be around the other humans after having borne me. That she was terrified of me. "Aha ha. I guess not." Then he turned away from Merletoph. "That's why I came here. I was hoping you knew more about her."

"I apologize, my boy. I assumed you had been told about your mother."

"...Have you met my father?"

"Sha'i never introduced me to him, no."

"Good."

Merletoph cocked his head, leaning in toward his grandson. "Now, why is that, Dimentio?"

"My father is…" Dimentio hummed, trying to put his thoughts into words. "My father is not...nice. Not by your standards, anyway." Not once had his father said anything nice to him, not even a lie that was meant to sound nice just to make someone else think he was being nice. He only said what was necessary, which, by Dimentio's standards, was all that needed to be said. But was he nice to mother? Or did he treat her like he treats me? For the first time, he found himself worrying about his parents' relationship.

Merletoph seemed equally as worried. His brow creased as he said, "Sha'i was so in love with him. It wasn't long before she convinced me she was going to move away with him. I...I should never have allowed it, but I just wanted her to be happy."

Dimentio was again awed by how different Merletoph's way of life was. He let his daughter leave him, simply for her happiness' sake? There were no rules she had to abide by that would tie her to her home? Perhaps there were, and she convinced Merletoph to let her break them.

"I didn't see her again for about a year, but I could always feel that her signature was close by. That was enough to give me comfort. Then, she showed up again one day, and told me she and Aldrik were leaving this world altogether."

"But he never left," Dimentio muttered.

"I wonder why," Merletoph ran a hand through his stringy white hair, yellow eyes fixated on something in the distance. "He didn't tell you?"

"He never mentioned having any plans to leave with her. He told me she left on her own. Because she was…"

"Your mother was not afraid of you," Merletoph's gentle voice floated over Dimentio's. "I'm nearly certain of it. Look at everything she did to protect you."

Dimentio put his hands behind his back, instinctively rubbing the damaged skin on his wrist.

"When Sha'i came to me that night, right before she left, she told me it wasn't safe for her to stay here anymore. I had always assumed it was because she sought a place where she and Aldrik could be safe together, but if he never intended to go with her, it must have been your safety she was worried about."

"But she didn't take me, either," Dimentio exhaled and put a hand to his bare cheek, momentarily marveling at how smooth his skin was.

"That does worry me," Merletoph admitted. "The closer we get to the truth, the more convinced I am that your mother did not intend to leave alone. The problem is, I have no clue what would have prompted her to do so."

Once again, Dimentio felt uneasy as he pictured his parents' relationship. Had his father been the one to force his mother to leave by herself? "You mentioned you could still feel her signature," he said. "Can't you teleport to her? Are members of the Tribe of Ancients able to use soul tracking?" Soul tracking was a skill he'd learned almost as soon as he'd mastered teleportation. It allowed him to move to the exact location of his father's signature even if he couldn't picture the room he was in. If only I knew mother's signature. I would go find her right now.

"Soul tracking between worlds or dimensions is dangerous and usually inaccurate unless you are extremely skilled with magic." Merletoph frowned. "And besides, even if I were to do it, I can no longer pinpoint Sha'i's signature. I can feel her moving, as if she is still traveling between dimensions, but nothing more."

"And that's why you think she found The Gateway?"

"I'm certain of it. There's no other way she could have left this dimension on her own."

Dimentio narrowed his eyes. He really didn't want to bring up this point if he didn't have to, but it was the only valuable information he had left to offer. "What if… well…" he cleared his throat and tried again, embarrassed by his lack of eloquence. "Er...what do you know about the Dark Prognosticus?"

Merletoph's expression hardened, and his golden eyes dimmed to amber as he tilted his head forward. "I know more about that despicable book than I ever wanted to."

Recalling Merletoph's story that he'd eavesdropped on, Dimentio realized he must be referring to the time he spent with his brother, Merlumio, the first true wielder of the Dark Prognosticus. "Do you know if the Dark Prognosticus might be able to give someone the power to send another person away?" He spoke with a tentative slowness, knowing Merletoph would assume the worst. Unfortunately, in this case, the worst was also the truth.

Dimentio was met with a fearful gaze. "Why...do you ask?" Merletoph's voice shook.

"I...I've never known for sure, but…" the magician trailed off, wondering again if he should be truthful, or if telling the truth would be a bad thing right now. Would lying or not telling Merletoph his suspicions be the 'nice' thing to do in this situation? How was he ever supposed to tell? I can't keep guessing. I will leave it up to Merletoph to tell me if I've done something wrong. With his decision made, Dimentio continued, "I have reason to believe that my father is the wielder of the Dark Prognosticus." He smiled and then, thinking that might be inappropriate, leveled his expression and turned his head away from his grandfather.

Merletoph was silent for what seemed to be several minutes. Dimentio swallowed. Had he done something wrong? But at last, the old sage spoke. "The Dark Prognosticus has the power to separate an entire race of people and scatter them across the dimensions. I don't doubt that it could send one woman to wander through the Gateway for eternity…"

Dimentio straightened, returning his gaze to Merletoph. "Do you really think that's what happened? Did father… Did he send her away?"

"It is… likely, considering what we both know as fact."

"...why?" He knew his grandfather didn't have an answer, but at the moment that was the only word that surfaced in Dimentio's mind.

The wooden chair Merletoph was sitting in creaked as he stood. "I am just as troubled as you are, my grandson. But," his aged voice hardened with determination, "I do know one thing: we must find your mother. And to do that, we must first find this world's Dimensional Gateway."

"Dimensional Gateway?"

Both Merletoph and Dimentio were startled by the new voice that entered the conversation. In the doorway to the living room, the wounded redhead was wrapped up in a blanket, leaning against the wall. A determined smile brightened her face.

"I believe I know what yeh're talkin' about."

"You do?" Dimentio leaned forward, not entirely sure the woman knew what she was talking about.

"Of course! Ronan and 'is Nanna and I 'ad to get 'ere somehow, seein' as we couldn't use your fancy teleportation to escape the war on our 'omeworld. We came in through a world full o' doors, and our lucky pick landed us 'ere."

Merletoph stood and approached the woman, a warm smile thanking her before he said a word. "My dear. First, tell me your name."

"Kathleen."

"Kathleen," Merletoph said as he put a hand on her elbow to steady her. "Can you show us where the Dimensional Gateway is?"

She nodded. "'Course I can. But I'm warnin' yeh now: it's a long trek."

"Thank you, Kathleen." Merletoph began to guide her back toward the bedroom. "I am so glad you are healing, but you need to rest, especially if you are to guide us to the gateway."

Dimentio watched them go, surprised at how lucky they were that someone knew the way to the Dimensional Gateway. It was nice of Kathleen, he mused, to so willingly help someone she didn't even know. Then again, Merletoph had helped her first, which was nice of him.

...perhaps Kathleen is only being nice because Merletoph was nice.

"We have our plan then, Dimentio!" Merletoph's jovial voice reached him, clearing away his musings.

"We do?"

"Yes! We will leave for the gateway as soon as Kathleen is feeling completely rested!"

"We're leaving?" Dimentio knew this was the conclusion Merletoph was coming to; he'd known it all along. He knew the only way to find his mother was to chase after her himself, but… Leaving… leaving father without telling him… There's no telling what he might do if I leave.

Sturdy hands rested on his shoulders, squeezing gently and offering him warmth and comfort. "You must go back to your father," Merletoph said, his voice firm. "He mustn't know what we're planning. Come back here in three days, early in the morning, so we have as much time as possible before your signature uncloaks. If we can escape before then, your father will never be able to distinguish your soul signature from the millions of others that exist in the Gateway. Do you understand?"

Dimentio nodded, trying very hard to ignore the pounding of his heart in his chest. "I understand. I'll see you in three days."