Remember

Episode Seven: Countdown

Chapter Two

Timpani watched as Kathleen rose to console Ronan, draping her arm around the boy's shoulder as he tried not to cry. "We'll find 'er, lad," she said. "She's probably out lookin' for you right now."

"But, but look," Ronan tugged Kathleen toward the house. "All our stuff is gone!"

Timpani furrowed her brow, coming up with a few reasons why someone would break into his Nanna's house; none of them good. As Ronan convinced Kathleen to look inside the house with him, she turned her attention back to the young teen on the ground in front of her, who stirred at the noise. She tensed, wondering if this boy's first instinct would be to attack her. With Blumiere hiding his face and Merletoph still carrying Dimentio, she wouldn't have much in the way of backup if the mystery boy turned aggressive.

His eyes fluttered open. A deep blue gaze half-squinted by a bruised cheek peered up at her, staring for a few seconds before he processed his surroundings. Then, with a choked grunt, he scrambled backward, met the wall behind him, and threw his hands in front of his face.

"I didn't take anything!" He yelled, his obstinate tone contrasted by the way he cowered behind his hands.

Out of the corner of her eye, Timpani saw Blumiere moving forward. She shook her head at him, trying to subtly keep him out of the boy's view. He raised his eyebrows and stepped back, but still looked ready to pounce the moment things took a bad turn. Timpani hoped, for the boy's sake, that Blumiere wouldn't have to resort to defending her. As much as she loved Blumiere, she couldn't vouch for his magic as an effective measure of defense against a child.

Timpani decided she would have to be stern. "What are you doing outside of this house?" She asked. "It's not yours."

The boy scoffed. "I'm not doing anything. Like I said, I didn't take anything, either."

"Someone did."

"Yeah, well," The boy lowered his hands so he could glare at her. "It was all gone by the time I got here."

"So you went inside?" Timpani tried to hold back a smirk.

He met her smirk with a scowl. "I was just—" He turned his head away, displaying the bruise on his cheek. "...just looking for some food, okay?"

Timpani tried her best to recall if she'd seen the boy's father on the battlefield before she asked her next question. "Your father is a Trader, right? Why aren't you with him?"

Shoulders slumping, the boy fell silent. His face twitched with an emotion Timpani couldn't quite read. Anger? Fear? She waited, patiently, for him to answer her question, and after a few more seconds, he did.

"They left. We were supposed to leave early this morning, to, you know, escape. But when I woke up, they were already gone. So, I don't know. They never told me where we were going, either."

Kathleen and Ronan reemerged from the house before he could say anything else. Timpani stood, keeping an eye on the dark-haired boy.

"The 'ouse is nearly empty," Kathleen reported. "No sign of 'is Nanna, no sign of a struggle, either." She caught sight of the boy, who watched her with narrowed eyes. "Ah. 'E's awake."

"He went inside the house," Timpani said.

"What?!" Ronan stomped over to the boy. "Yeh went in me 'ouse?"

"I didn't take anything!" The boy rose to his feet as well, and both Timpani and Kathleen moved to a more defensive position. "I went...I was looking for food, but there wasn't any, and besides..."

"Besides what?" Kathleen prompted.

Timpani noted the shudder that shook the boy's shoulders. "Well, there was a chain chomp."

"Onyx!" Ronan interjected.

"It...chased me outside. If I hadn't been surprised I would've gotten away, but it grabbed my foot. I fell. Knocked me out, I guess."

"And you're sure you didn't take anything," Timpani said, putting on her stern face again.

"Yes! Well—" He suddenly scoffed, lowering his head and crossing his arms. "Well, okay. I did take one thing. Here." Reaching into the pocket of his breeches, he withdrew a small piece of paper and handed it to Ronan, who snatched it away from him. "I was looking at it when the chain chomp came in."

Kathleen leaned over his shoulder to help him read it. "It's from yer Nanna," she said. "She's on 'er way to Lyfell, it seems. That's about a three-day journey from 'ere."

"She left?" Ronan hung his head in dismay. "Why'd she leave without us?"

"She—" Kathleen sucked in a breath as she kept reading. "Oh. Someone told 'er we died."

"But we didn't," Ronan said matter-of-factly. "We're not dead."

"But you did disappear for three days," Timpani murmured. "After you were sent to attack the castle with the others."

"But we're not." Ronan's lips trembled into a frown.

Kathleen put a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright," she said, "yer Nanna left us a note. That means she believes we might be still alive. We can go find 'er, once we bring our friends to The Gateway."

Ronan's eyes lit up. "That means I get teh come with you?"

"We must hurry," Merletoph said from where he'd been quietly observing the scene. "We are already short on time. And if we are adding one more to the traveling group, we will have to account for that, as well."

"Wait," Timpani interjected, "what about him?" She gestured to the dark-haired boy, who looked away with a huff. "His parents are missing. We can't just leave him here."

"I'm fine—"

"You got attacked by a chain chomp while scavenging for food," Timpani snapped. "You're not fine."

In her fussing over the stubborn teenager, Timpani failed to notice Blumiere approaching. She exhaled a panicked breath as she saw his face, unobscured by his cloak, set with confidence. He knelt down next to the boy, who kicked his legs to scramble away. His back pressed against the wall of the house.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Blumiere said. Slowly, he slid his bag off of his shoulder and opened it, removing a roll of bread and two pears. He held them out to the boy. "Here. We can do without these. Stay here, where it's safe."

Despite his horrified expression, the boy eagerly took the food, apparently too hungry to care where it came from.

"Kathleen," Blumiere continued, "when you return with Ronan to find his grandmother, would you take him with you? Perhaps his parents escaped to the same town she did."

Kathleen nodded. "We can do that."

"Why are you helping me?" The boy burst out, already two mouthfuls of bread into the roll. "I thought you hated humans!"

"My family does," Blumiere sighed. "I'm very sorry for what we've done to you and your town. We're really not so different from each other. We've all got hearts and souls, even if we look and behave a little different." Timpani caught Blumiere's gaze for a moment as he smiled at her before turning back to the boy. "And...anyone with a heart would not ignore an injured soul."

Timpani's own heart flooded with warmth at Blumiere's words. Pride for the young man made her eyes well up with tears. She put a hand on his shoulder.

The expression on the dark-haired boy's face wavered into indifference. He kept his gaze trained on Blumiere as he munched the bread with trepidation.

"What's your name?" Timpani asked, hoping to put him more at ease.

The dusty-blue eyes flicked to Timpani for a moment. "Alexander."

"I'm Timpani. I own the flower shop in town. You might've seen me before."

Alexander nodded. "I recognize you."

Timpani quickly introduced the others, ending with Blumiere.

"Blumiere?" Alexander's mouth twitched into a smile.

Blumiere cleared his throat, a dark purple blush coloring his cheeks. "Yes, yes, it's terribly ironic, I know."

"Blumiere, Timpani," Merletoph's urgent voice cut through the conversation. "Really, we must be going. If Alexander is staying here, let's make sure he's got what he needs to stay safe. Quickly, so we can get moving."

Timpani softened her gaze and offered Alexander a smile. "Do you trust us?"

The boy grimaced as he looked between Timpani and Blumiere, contemplating his options. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed, and he exhaled. "Yes. I trust you."

"Wait!" Ronan said. "One more thing before we go!" He dashed through the front door of his house, appearing a few moments later with a gnarled bone pocked with bite-marks. "Give this to Onyx if 'e comes back." Ronan held the bone out to Alexander, who raised an eyebrow at it. "Otherwise 'e might try teh attack you again."

Alexander took the bone and held it at arm's length as if it might try to attack him. "Eh. Thank you," he mumbled.

"Onyx is a great chain chomp. 'E'll protect you." Ronan put his hands on his hips and surveyed Alexander with contemplative eyes. "I think it'll be fun teh travel with yeh. I think we'll be friends!"

A smile graced Alexander's lips. "Yes," he said, "I think so, too."

"He's not here."

Aldrik softened his expression at his brother's pitiful statement, hiding his own irritation. They'd been searching for almost two hours, and they'd found nothing more than the trace of Blumiere's signature. It had completely faded now, painted over by the signatures of the rest of the Tribe as they teleported around the area.

"No. It would appear not."

He bit his tongue. He knew he was running out of time, and a small part of him wanted to tell Basile everything right now, to ask his brother for the crown again. Maybe, that small part hoped, maybe Basile would be desperate enough this time to give in. The Voice curled itself away in the recesses of his mind, having gracefully left him alone for now, so Aldrik didn't even have a second opinion to argue with.

If The Voice was counting exactly twenty years, he had less than a week to become king. He had his heir, whether or not Dimentio complied. He needed the crown. If it came down to it, he would have to kill Basile. He'd have to kill Remi, and possibly Lucienne, too, leaving him the only one left of his generation, and the only possible candidate for the crown.

I won't, he decided. I'll speak to Basile when we have a moment to ourselves.

The rest of the Tribe had ceased their search and gathered nearby while Basile addressed them.

"Blumiere must have fled elsewhere. We...must find him and bring him home." Basile's voice crackled with weariness and defeat. "You are...free to return to the castle, but…" Aldrik saw the way Basile straightened up, drawing his shoulders back to smother his brokenness. "Keep your mind open for any trace of his signature. Alert me immediately if you feel it."

"You should be the first to feel it, father," Basile's oldest son, Abany, said. He didn't even try to conceal the mocking in his tone, but he vanished before Basile could respond. The others teleported away shortly after, each offering no more than a slight acknowledgement to their king.

When he and Basile were the only ones left, Aldrik sighed. "That wasn't very eloquent."

The look in Basile's eyes alone allowed Aldrik to predict the fist that flew toward his face. He sidestepped with ease, pushing Basile's arm aside with one hand.

"I don't want to hear this from you, Aldrik!" Basile's mouth twisted into a snarl. "I'd like to see you try to be king of this dying Tribe!"

Aldrik had never heard a more straightforward invitation.

"They won't listen. They have no reason to. Even while my son is missing, they—"

"Basile," he cut in, clapping his hand onto his brother's shoulder. "Take a breath. If I had the means to lift this burden off of you, would you allow me to?" A gust of wind carried the scent of pine to the top of the butte, ruffling Basile's slicked-back hair.

Pride hardened Basile's stare for only a moment before it melted into something like resignation. "If you had the means to bring my son back home safely, I would allow it." A bit of steel returned to his gaze as he said, "Why, have you done something with him? Were you involved in his escape again?" Then, a look of recognition. "We would have felt Blumiere's signature again if he'd teleported somewhere else. You cloaked it again, didn't you?"

He hadn't, but Dimentio had already made his presence known to enough people. "I did."

"That's why you...were here before me…"

Aldrik always enjoyed watching the gears turn in Basile's head. Unfortunately, this time they were turning for the wrong reasons. Aldrik strove to get them back on track. "I can tell you where he went. But I need a little something from you, brother."

Basile's eyebrows arched in a desperate look so unbefitting of a king. "What do you want?"

Aldrik eyed the metal adornment on his brother's head. "The crown, Basile."

He could have laughed at the bafflement on Basile's face. "The crown? Aldrik, you have no wife, no heirs...you aren't even the next in line! You nearly get my son killed and you want the crown?"

"You'd like to see me try to be king of our dying Tribe. You said it yourself."

"I was—!"

"I know, I know. But trust me, Basile, I have something you never managed to get your hands on. Something that makes me far more fit for the throne than you ever have been. The Dark Prognosticus. It speaks to me."

Basile shook his head, and even though Basile had never believed him before, Aldrik could barely contain his disappointment. "I would be a fool to believe that, brother. I know the Dark Prognosticus has not left its place in my chambers since I became King."

"It didn't have to."

"You have nothing, Aldrik. You will never be king."

The words stung like salt on a fresh wound. After he'd tried so hard to be alert and of his own mind during this conversation, Aldrik knew he had no choice but to give his brother proof of his word. With a measured sigh and a pang of dread, he closed his eyes and invited The Voice to the forefront of his mind. It crept in like a mischievous child into a room full of precious ceramics, but the power that came with it offered the effect he needed. He opened his eyes and watched the blood drain from his brother's face. The gears were turning again. Tick, tick, tick.

"You…"

"Aha ha ha. Yes. Me. The Dark Prognosticus chose me! I should be king, brother! ME!"

Basile's chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. He took a few steps backward, never taking his eyes off of Aldrik. "You're insane. You...all along, you..."

Spurred on by The Voice, Aldrik seized Basile's arm before he could escape. Basile's gasp cut off as his body froze.

Cursing under his breath, Aldrik wasted no time placing his thumbs over his brother's temples. He'd have to make this quick, and perhaps try again immediately. He should have taken more time to convince Basile he had the Prognosticus before—

Aldrik's breath hitched as he met Basile's gaze. The memory-wipe spell throbbed in his fingertips, but he allowed it to dissipate, burning as it traveled back up his arms.

In every rendition of this conversation, Basile would always fight him to the end. His eyes would burn bright with fury, confidence, or indignation.

These were the eyes of a man who had given up.

As Aldrik let out a breath, Basile worked his mouth to form words, a slow, broken sentence that Aldrik had been hoping to hear his entire life.

"Very...well, Al...drik. The crown...is yours."

When Dimentio woke up, it was just past 9 o'clock in the morning. His head was still cradled against Merletoph's chest, and they were walking faster than they had been earlier. He cracked his eyes open. They must have been outside of town, because he didn't recognize the scenery. They'd already burned three out of twelve hours they had before Blumiere's signature uncloaked. He only hoped they were far enough along to make it to the Dimensional Gateway in the next nine and a half hours.

With a jolt, he remembered his escape from the castle and, before that, his encounter with his father.

Merletoph's voice rumbled over him. "You are awake. Good, I don't think my back could handle carrying you any further," he said with a good-natured laugh.

"Father's coming," Dimentio said, with none of his usual pomp and an involuntary twinge of urgency. "How far are we? Can we go faster?"

"Gracious stars, child. One thing at a time." Merletoph shifted him in his arms. "Slow down. Your father has not been following us."

"He will be," Dimentio pressed. "He knows where we're going. He knows about all of you, and he's going to kill you." He squashed down the emotions fluttering in his chest and took a deep breath. "Aha. If we don't hurry, none of us will make it."

"What?" Mimi's squeaky voice came from below him. "Who's gonna kill us?" Her question carried a wave of panic up through the rest of the group, and soon they'd come to a complete halt, circled around Merletoph.

Dimentio wriggled until Merletoph set him down on the ground. He took a moment to gain his balance on his feet, and then he walked to the center of the circle and addressed the whole group.

"My father took away my magic," he started. "All of it. He was only supposed to take my signature, but he took it all. He also…" Dimentio swallowed, keeping his expression carefully neutral. He cursed himself for leaving his mask behind on the castle's roof. "He knows where we're going. And he knows you've seen my face, so… he's going to try to kill you."

"You led him right to us?" Timpani took a step toward him.

Dimentio choked out a laugh. "Aha! No, of course not. I led him away from us. Well, unless he knows where the Gateway is, aha, in which case—"

"This isn't funny!" Had Blumiere not held her back, Dimentio suspected the woman might have actually lashed out at him.

"Dimentio," Merletoph's voice rumbled behind him, a welcome calm amidst the tension, "please cut to the chaste and tell us the truth. Are we in danger?"

"Yes."

Timpani's frown deepened. Kathleen huddled Ronan a little closer to her. Dimentio hadn't noticed him until then, but he took note of the fact that the boy had not been left behind as planned.

"How long do we have until your father finds us?" Merletoph had placed a hand on his shoulder, but Dimentio couldn't find comfort in the gesture.

"I don't know. He will probably search the butte for a while longer with the rest of the Tribe, but once he realizes we're not there, he will look elsewhere. Like I said, if he knows where this world's Dimensional Gateway is, he'll likely be waiting for us by the time we get there."

"We will have to hurry." Merletoph looked to Kathleen. "How far would you say we have to go?"

"If I remember right, we're only about a quarter of the way there. We 'ave maybe eight hours left teh go."

"We have about nine hours until Blumiere's signature uncloaks," Dimentio said. "I thought that would be the only thing we had to worry about. But if we're going to get there before my father, we'll have to get there soon. If I had to guess, I'd say he could find the right place in two hours. If he already knows, he'll be there in less than one."

"Two hours?" Timpani shook her head. "We could never get there that fast."

Blumiere raised an eyebrow. "If I knew where it was, I could teleport there. Since my signature's cloaked, it wouldn't be detected."

"Aha!" Dimentio jumped up, expecting to shoot into the air, but the effect was severely lessened due to his inability to fly. "We could teleport in smaller jumps—Kathleen!"

Kathleen flinched, bewilderment popping into her expression. "Uh. Yeah?"

"You could point Blumiere in the right direction! He could teleport to the furthest point on the horizon in that direction, and we'd repeat from there! Aha ha ha~! It's the same way I found the butte yesterday!"

Blumiere rubbed his hands together. "You want me to teleport the whole group?! I've never even teleported one other person with me before, but," he did a quick count, "six? I don't think I can."

"I can teleport too," Merletoph said. "I will take half of the group, and you can take the other half, Blumiere."

"Merletoph can take three, and you can take two," Dimentio agreed. "It's only two people. It's not hard. You could even take the two kids if you wanted."

"You're a kid, too!" Mimi proclaimed, and Ronan backed her up with a nod.

Dimentio didn't have time to argue. "Can you at least try, Blumiere?"

With some hesitation, Blumiere nodded. "I'll try." Next to him, Timpani looked skeptical. Dimentio disliked her, but he decided he would try to be nice to her for now, if only to show Merletoph that he could.

"Right, then," Kathleen pointed to a spot along the horizon. "It's tha' way."

After some discussion, Blumiere decided to take Timpani (who refused to leave his side) and Dimentio (who could guide him if something went wrong). That left Merletoph with Kathleen, Mimi, and Ronan.

During the few seconds spent in the white-void, Dimentio relished the look of terror on Timpani's face.

From their new location, the full extent of the mountain range that made up their home could be seen. In front of them were foothills and, further in the distance, a thick forest.

"That was…'orrible," Kathleen said as Merletoph's group landed on the other side of the teleport. Ronan shared similar sentiments.

"It didn't get any better the second time," Timpani admitted. "Do we really have to travel the whole way like this?"

"Would you rather die?" Dimentio asked, and once again Timpani's expression amused him. She had quite the range of faces.

"There's something wrong with you."

"Aha. More than you could know."

Merletoph shot both of them a frustrated glance, and Dimentio put on his 'polite' mask. Inwardly, he felt his stomach twist at his grandfather's disappointment.

"Kathleen," Merletoph said with pointed urgency, "would you please guide us to the next location?"

They were able to make several more jumps, but after the sixth relocation, Dimentio felt Blumiere collapse next to him. He held both Timpani's and Dimentio's hands, so they both went down with him, landing in a heap on a bit of rocky earth.

"Blumiere?!" Timpani had pushed herself up almost instantly to check over him. Dimentio rolled over with a groan, once again lamenting his lack of magic.

Merletoph helped Timpani prop Blumiere up in a sitting position, but neither of them helped Dimentio.

"I'm sorry," Blumiere gasped, "I don't know what happened."

"You're using too much energy," Dimentio said. "If you were better practiced, you would know how to streamline it better."

"You're not helping," Timpani snapped.

"Neither are you."

"Dimentio." Merletoph left Blumiere's side and approached him. Dimentio flinched away as Merletoph extended a hand, but he only used it to help Dimentio to his feet. "Why don't we have a talk while Blumiere rests a bit?"

As Merletoph led Dimentio away, he caught sight of Mimi, laughing and whispering to Ronan.

A low, flat rock rested far enough away from the group that they were out of earshot, but close enough that they could still monitor the others from afar. Dimentio sat down on the rock, his face carefully set and without emotion. Merletoph sat beside him with a grunt.

They were silent for a few seconds. Dimentio stared straight ahead, bracing himself for yelling or scolding. He didn't think Merletoph the kind of man to strike a child, but his skin prickled in anticipation anyway.

"Breathe, Dimentio."

"I am." Admittedly, his quick-paced breaths betrayed his underlying anxiety, but he was breathing.

"Deeper. Use your breaths to calm your soul. The breath is just as essential to your soul as blood is to your body."

He tried. He inhaled, as slowly as he could manage, and held it for a few seconds before releasing, letting the air escape unhindered.

"Try again. Follow my lead."

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. The silence fell again, more comfortable this time, and though Dimentio felt the edge of his trepidation soften, he could not shake the feeling that he was about to be lectured.

A warm, gentle hand touched his shoulder. "Are you alright, Dimentio?"

The absurdity of the question alone broke Dimentio's resolve. He turned his head, his eyebrows raising as he took in Merletoph's expression, finding sincerity in his eyes.

Opening his mouth to respond, Dimentio found himself halting as he actually thought about the question. Was he alright? His gaze found the ground again as he hesitated too long and Merletoph pulled him closer, wrapping his arm around Dimentio's shoulders.

"It is okay to say no," Merletoph said. "These past few days have been quite difficult for you, I'm sure. I am very proud of how far you've grown in such a short time."

Inhale. Exhale. Dimentio offered a single nod. It wasn't like him to be quiet, but he couldn't think of a good response for Merletoph. He couldn't even answer it for himself. He was still stuck on are you alright?

"When your father took your magic away," Merletoph continued on, not leaving Dimentio much time to think, "did he hurt you?"

Subconsciously, he touched the sensitive skin on his wrist, rubbing his thumb lightly over the wounded veins. "No more than usual."

Merletoph made a low humming noise. "Will it all come back tonight at seven o'clock?"

His heart skipped a beat. Not because he worried about his magic not coming back, but because he remembered that, if all of his magic did come back, it would be the first time in his life that he would have a soul signature. He would be alive. He'd exist.

For some reason, he wasn't sure if he really wanted that. Merletoph was still waiting for an answer, so he shrugged.

"You are about to leave your father for the rest of your life," Merletoph said, his tone gaining a firm seriousness. "Are you alright with that?"

"I don't like talking about this," Dimentio decided, puffing out his breath on an exhale.

"Very well. We can talk about something else." Merletoph kept his arm around Dimentio, holding him close. Imprisoning him. "Is there something on your mind?"

Dimentio sighed. "I don't like Timpani."

To his surprise, Merletoph laughed. "Yes, I saw the two of you butting heads."

"She's not nice. She doesn't trust me, and she's...strange when she's around Blumiere."

Merletoph's chuckles gained mirth, rumbling through his chest as his shoulders shook. "I won't attempt to explain that last part to you, my boy. But I can see that she struggles to know what to say when she is around you. You will simply have to take some time to get to know each other."

"Do I have to try and be nice to her? Even if she's mean to me?" Dimentio leaned forward, resting his head on his palms. It was tiring even to hold himself upright.

Merletoph's hand slid down to rest on his back, lightly grazing over the hole in his poncho. Neither of them mentioned its presence. "I have told this to Mimi several times before: 'Kindness yields the sweetness of friendship. Anger yields only what is bitter.' It would do you well to remember this proverb."

"But what if I'm nice to her and we never become friends?"

"Well," Merletoph smiled, "that would be no fault of your own. But Timpani is a smart woman. She will come around."

Kindness yields the sweetness of friendship… Dimentio thought of his father. Did he have any friends?

Anger yields only what is bitter. Yes, he could see that. His relationship with his father was about as bitter as relationships could get. His father was angry all the time, but Dimentio had never been kind to him. Could he have made things better if he'd been kind to his father? If he'd known how? Maybe he was at fault for his father's anger.

"You exist for one purpose. And you will fulfill it."

A wave of tiredness fell over him, dragging at his limbs. He was about to leave his father, and everything he'd ever known behind. He was going to be someone, and he would have to choose to be kind, or angry, or something else entirely. Leaning into Merletoph, his eyes drooped closed. He breathed in time to the rise and fall of his grandfather's chest.

"You exist for one purpose." Inhale.

"You exist…" Exhale.

I will exist.

As his mind drifted off, Dimentio finally came across the answer to Merletoph's first question.

He wasn't alright. No, he was terrified.