Leandra spent the evening pawning off all of the many trinkets her parents had given her: first edition books, finely made dresses too opulent to be worn for any real occasion, and jewelry, oh so much jewelry. Any time there'd been a new occasion, there'd been a new piece of jewelry. The only thing Leandra still had gifted from her parents was her lute, which she loved too much to part with. She had effectively cleaned out all the pawn shops in Hightown and Lowtown and Leandra felt free. Freer than she had in a long time. The money was promptly wired to Mara's account and while Leandra knew the money would run out eventually, she'd bought Mara some time.
The Council of Five's letter was still burning in Leandra's pocket as Mara drove her back to her parent's mansion. The porch light was still on and she could feel her spine stiffen in anticipation of the fight that was to come. She had no idea what she would say or what she should do. But she knew she needed to confront her parents.
Leandra sat in Mara's front seat of her SUV, her hands twisting as she fidgeted with her dress, making sure she looked presentable. She glanced at the front door.
Mara placed a hand over Leandra's. "No matter what they do, or say, you have options. I will always be here to have your back."
Leandra's eyes pricked with tears, sudden grief overcoming her. "I'm just so ashamed of them."
Mara pulled her into a hug. "Then tell them that. Maybe it will mean something coming from you."
Leandra felt like she shouldn't dare to hope that there was any way her parents could change. And yet she couldn't help but try to get through to them. She held Mara, grateful to have something in her life that made sense.
"I might need a place to crash tonight, well many nights if this goes badly, Maker save me."
Mara pulled away and brushed Leandra's bangs into place before cupping her cheek. "Your home is my home." Then she pinched Leandra's cheek teasingly. "And with the money you gave me today, I have time to look for another job."
Leandra rubbed her cheek, a little sore from Mara's sharp nails. "Let's hope you won't need to." Leandra sighed deeply as her back hit the car seat, sending a few tears dangling from her eyelashes down into her lap.
Her hands and feet were shaky as she got out of the car, her legs wobbly in her heels as she fumbled with the empty suitcases out of the trunk. She tried to open the door to find it was locked. She floundered for the keys in her purse, but the door opened on her just as she pulled them out.
It was one of her parent's many servants, a quiet elven lad with slick black hair and almond skin. He was rather skittish around her and her family and was always overly polite and quick to leave so Leandra never got around to asking for his name.
"Lady Amell, your parents missed you at dinner. They are expecting you in the study." His voice was high with false injected cheer.
That was code for 'your parents are in a bad mood.' Well, it wasn't like what Leandra had to say would make them feel any better.
Leandra nodded. "Thank you. I'll go see them." She tried to remember all the servants' names, but there were so many that it was easy for her to confuse Gabby with Abby, Arianna with Brianna, and Chloe with Zoe. And her parents were never satisfied with anyone's work so new Dobs were being hired to replace Bobs every day.
Leandra entered the foyer to see the fireplace was nice and bright. Maids were doing the evening dusting and vacuuming and they curtsied as Leandra approached. She barely got to the stairs when her parents burst out of the study, looking infuriated. In her mother's hand was the letter explaining to her parents that she had sold her things to pay for Mara's salary and to not call the Guard.
"How dare you!?" her mother screeched, scattering the maids from their work like mice running from the light.
Her father was angry, but his anger was quieter, like a snake in the grass. He slithered behind her mother, giving her a strong foundation to lay her hand on. "Leandra Gloriana Amell, we are both very disappointed in you. You betrayed us. And for what? Some servant?"
Leandra felt unsteady at her parent's united front but she was determined not to be shaken. She calmly set her suitcases on the bottom step and rooted herself firmly to the ground. "What choice did you give me? You drained my accounts." She crossed her arms, glaring at them.
"They were not your things to sell. They belonged to the family!" her mother screamed, shaking the glass of red wine in her hand as she shoved a finger in Leandra's face.
Leandra turned her nose up at the finger, daring her mother to strike her. "Oh, was Gamlen going to wear my betrothal ballgown? He'd look so fetching in my jewelry." She found a wry smile on her face as she imagined him trying to squeeze into her skirt.
Her father scowled, reddening all the way to his balding head. "When did you get such a mouth on you? What in Andraste's name has gotten into you, young lady? Are you cursed after all?"
"If we're cursed it's because you brought on that karma," Leandra huffed, tearing into her purse and bringing out the letter showing the Council of Five's ominous inverted triangle stamp. "You're slavers!? Please tell me I'm wrong!"
Her parents froze, their faces paling. Her mother took a step back. "W-where did you get that?"
Leandra took a deep steadying breath before she said, "I found it in Gamlen's room. Is he… part of this?" She wondered if even Aunt Revka knew. Was she the only one in the dark about this?
"Useless boy," her father muttered under his breath.
Her mother looked nervous but defiantly angry. She tucked a bang back into place. "Leandra, it's not the same thing."
Leandra scoffed. "Oh, so I suppose I'm misinformed."
"Yes, you are. It's all above board. We're doing nothing illegal," her father crossed his arms.
Her mother touched her arm, her nails digging in slightly. "The criminals I hand over would not have made any contribution to society and, left to their own devices, would only harm themselves or others. I gave their lives purpose."
Leandra pulled away, her ears burning with what she just heard. "You…you really believe that?" But she could see her parents looked more upset about being accused of being slavers, than about the lives they had irrevocably ruined. Suddenly everything her parents did made sense. "The charity events, the outreach programs in the alienage, are they all just a smokescreen for your hunting grounds? Have you done nothing out of the goodness of your hearts?"
Her father looked uneasy, but her mother looked outraged. She slapped Leandra, marking her face with her nails. "How dare you! The good we have done for Kirkwall is immeasurable. We cleaned up the streets of the filth that would sully it. You dare judge us for doing the Maker's work!"
Leandra held her burning cheek, tears stinging her eyes. "That's what you call it? Is this what my legacy is built on?"
Her mother had never looked so furious. She threw her wine glass to the ground and it shattered, wine oozing on the carpet like blood. "You should be grateful for what your father and I have done for you. What we have given you, most others would kill for. I've never thought you would be so ungrateful! Leandra, why are you doing this?"
And suddenly Leandra couldn't hold in the truth any longer. "Because I fell in love with a man you would have sold off!" She gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth, uncertain about what she had really said aloud, but she could see her parents freeze in shock as they shared a panicked look.
"Leandra?" her father furrowed his thick eyebrows in confusion. "What do you mean?"
She said too much, but she couldn't find herself regretting it. It felt freeing to say. Love. She held her head high. "You heard right. My heart belongs to someone other than Guillaume." And then she squared her shoulders and glared defiantly. "You can find another heir. I won't marry to secure your future anymore."
"Leandra," her mother's voice was quiet with fury. "Don't think you can go through with this lightly. Go to bed, and we'll discuss this when you're more clear-headed."
Leandra laughed. That would have worked on her a few weeks ago but she felt like a new woman. "I've never been more clear-headed. And since you're both so proud of yourselves, I'm telling everyone the truth about our family." Her parents widened their eyes and started to argue over each other but Leandra straightened her shoulders, tucking her hands together as she stood her ground. Her voice was not a shout, but unwaveringly carried over her parents. "You should inform the De Lancets the wedding is off. And, if you want a relationship with me, you'll stop immediately and help me make amends if that's even possible."
Her parents stopped shouting and their mouths went gape as they looked at each other so confused. "Leandra," her mother's voice was shrill and panicked. "You don't know what you're saying."
"Yes, I do," Leandra snapped. "Because right now I'm too ashamed to be your daughter."
That made both of her parents flinch. Her father looked down at his feet and her mother's eyes glistened with the threat of tears. "Leandra," her mother said thinly. "You cannot tell people about our connection to the Counsel of Five. You do not understand. It will be dangerous."
"I thought everything was above board." Leandra narrowed her eyes, watching her mother's lips thin and quiver.
Her father stepped forward, wide-eyed and frazzled. "Forget about that, Bethann. Leandra, you're in love. Since when? Who is this man?"
Leandra crossed her arms, looking away as her cheeks heated. "You already know he's a good man, Daddy. You just can't see it yet."
"I've met him?" His brow furrowed as he searched for the connection. He shoved his glasses back up the long bridge of his nose and snarled, "how good of a man can he be if he doesn't even consult me first? What kind of standing does he have?"
Leandra gritted her teeth. She was not having this conversation right now. "You can meet him if you try to make amends. Otherwise, you can forget it. I won't let you hurt him."
"Leandra, you're obviously not thinking straight." Her mother was clenching her hands so tightly Leandra thought they would crack. "Go to your room!"
Leandra picked up her suitcases and started marching up the stairs. "Oh, I'll go to my room, alright, but I'm packing. I'm moving out. Tonight."
"And going where?" Her father chased after her, his blue eyes wild with panic.
Leandra stomped to her bedroom door, yanking it open. "To Mara's." Then she slammed the door shut and locked it. She threw the suitcases on her bed and started haphazardly folding clothes into her bags.
Her parents pounded on the door, screaming her name repeatedly, but she ignored that, angry tears in her eyes. She knew tonight could only be a disaster, and yet it felt necessary. She was scared. She didn't expect to cut her parents off, but she couldn't be a part of what they were doing. She wondered if this could even be resolved, if it was hopeless to keep faith for a better future.
As she tucked her lute into her suitcase, she saw a strip of red cloth with the Amell insignia, that she often wore as a hair ribbon. It had also been passed down through the family, although its only real value was sentimental. It had been expected after her betrothal ball that she give this ribbon to Guillaume to wear, so everyone would know he belonged to her, but she'd never gotten around to it. As she tucked it into her bag, she smiled, knowing who the rightful owner should be.
"Leandra Gloriana Amell, if you think you're leaving through this door then you have another thing coming!" her mother was screeching, her fist shaking the door vigorously.
Leandra had to hurry. She knew it was only a matter of time before her father left to grab the key.
So she couldn't go out through the front door. If Malcolm could come in through the window, she could leave through it. She threw the suitcases down below where they fell with a thud. When she peeked out the window her heart lifted to see that Mara had not left the driveway yet. She turned on the engine of her car, waving with the same mischievous grin.
Leandra peeked over the ledge. It was a long way down, and if she wasn't careful she could easily break her neck. She took off her heels and threw them onto the grass. She was halfway out the window before she realized she forgot something. She rushed back to her closet and pulled out the skimpy pink dress that Malcolm had begged her to wear.
Leandra threw the dress out the window, and it fluttered down like a hot pink butterfly. Then with a deep breath, she shimmied out the window, barefoot, her skirt rising up to flash everyone.
Thankfully only Mara was present for that.
She slowly stepped her way down, her arms shaking and burning with unused strength, her toes slipping in the wood graft of the rose terrace. The wood bit into her skin and she could feel splinters threaten to pierce her. About two-thirds of the way down, she misjudged a step and slipped, yelping as she fell onto her suitcase with a crack. Leandra groaned, stars in her eyes. Thankfully the suitcase was padded and soft, but when she pried open the suitcase, the stem of her lute had been snapped.
She found herself crying, the dam breaking at last. She was terrified about what she had just done. She couldn't take this back, and while she couldn't regret it, she knew home would never be the same. She hugged herself as she held the broken pieces of her lute. She had no idea what to do.
Mara touched Leandra's hand, bringing her out of her trance. Her dark eyes were misty with sympathy. "Let's get you home, babe."
With shining eyes, she smiled at Mara, grateful for the reminder, and intertwined her fingers into her friend's hand. She still had a home. She had people who wouldn't abandon her.
All was not lost.
Leandra smiled through her tears, inexplicably excited at the thought of the freedom that tomorrow would suddenly bring. She was no longer an Amell. She was just Leandra.
She didn't know who that was, yet.
—
By the time Leandra's parents unlocked the door, Leandra and Mara were already speeding out of the driveway. Bethann was fuming, making loud angry phone calls to the Guard, demanding that they bring Leandra back immediately. Aristride was busy calling up an inspector to figure out who had managed to seduce his daughter. Leandra's determination to reveal the family's ties to the Council of Five had worried them both, and they knew they would have to move quickly to get ahead of this.
Gamlen came home late around 3am and, as he dragged himself into the foyer, the Amell parents waited in ambush.
Gamlen looked surprised to see them at all. "Mom… Dad… What are you doing up so late?" he adjusted his collar, loosening his tie as his back straightened into a better posture.
Bethann folded her hands in her lap. "I could ask you the same."
"Was just out with some friends," he muttered looking down, his cheeks flushing. His hair was a mess and his suit had food stains on it.
"Well, thanks to you, Leandra found out about how the family's been paying off our debts and now she wants to go public with the knowledge," Aristride's voice was sharp. "How could you let this happen!?"
Gamlen tightened his shoulders. "Leandra knows better than that."
"Does she?" Bethann cocked her head, some greying black hair falling out of her loose bun. "No matter, she's determined to destroy herself and we can't let her take us down with her, and so I must ask you, what do you know of the man Leandra's seeing?
Gamlen shifted uncomfortably, biting his lip. "I didn't know she was seeing anyone." He dropped his gaze, unable to look at his parent's eyes.
His parents shared a look that remained unconvinced. His mother sniffed sharply. "In light of recent events, we think Leandra might be too unstable to be considered an heir, so you're going to have to step up."
Gamlen blinked. "Me?" he pointed to himself.
"Do we have another child we can depend on?" His mother squinted her dark eyes harshly.
Gamlen puffed up his chest. "No, no you can depend on me."
His mother smiled sharply. "Good, because I believe I can convince the Baudelaires to renew the betrothal."
Gamlen's mouth gaped, as he shifted from one foot to another. "But Mara…"
His mother glared harshly. "You can keep the slut as sidepiece for all I care, but hear me boy if you want to be heir, you're going to have to show some commitment. Do you understand?"
Gamlen was silent, gritting his teeth as the decision wrestled inside him.
His mother fumed, her slipper tapping impatiently. "Is there something unclear about what I'm asking?"
"No, ma'am," Gamlen nodded automatically at the sharp tone.
Aristride drank deeply from his glass. His glasses were balanced on top of his head, and his eyes rimmed red. He seemed uneasy about the whole situation but, as usual, he displayed a united front with his wife in front of Gamlen.
"Good," Bethann smoothed a wrinkle in her eyebrow. "Now find me some dirt I can use on your sister."
—-
"I don't understand. I've fed countless memories to the Kindness spirit. Why is this not working?" Malcolm knew frustration would not help, but he couldn't keep the irritation from biting him. Every night was spent rebuilding the flower forest, every day spent feeding false compliments to people and biting down his more snarky remarks. He couldn't help but feel resentful that his actions were tied to the Fade and to Kindness' health. He missed the times when he could act in ignorance.
"Do you think Kindness can be brought back by pretty words? Kindness is an action! Why is this so hard to understand?" Scholar waggled his piece of lumpia angrily before crunching the rest of it down.
The nebulous blue form hovered around Malcolm curiously, playing with the roses, whispering melodies to their petals. Clicky, which Shiny was now called, was harmonizing with Kindness in a foreign song that Malcolm could almost understand. The forest was looking much brighter and healthier, but it needed constant maintenance, and Malcolm was running out of motivation to keep going when his efforts seemed to make little difference.
Malcolm leaned on some large stalks of grass, so thick they could have been used as a hammock. There were more wisps than ever gathering in the forest, all adding to the music. The clouds in the Fade green sky floated on a gentle breeze, forming indistinct shapes that almost looked like a dance in time to the beat the wisps were drumming.
"I don't get it. The forest looks at peace. What could I possibly do to make this better?"
Scholar chomped loudly, shoving three sticks of lumpia in his mouth at once and swallowing. "Perhaps you are finally ready to begin shaping the Fade."
Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "I can do that?" It still sounded unbelievable.
Scholar plopped down in front of him. "Quite easily. Now that you aren't corrupting the Fade with your touch, I'm sure that it would be open to suggestions."
Malcolm looked at his hands with uncertainty, unsure of the power he held. "How do I do that?"
"Well, first, why don't we re-energize you? Why don't you try giving yourself something to eat for once?"
Malcolm touched his chin, thinking about what he'd like. He wasn't really hungry but he would kill for something to soothe his nerves, like a beer. He concentrated, seeing the Fade strings like normal. The Fade was peering into his memory bringing up the burn of alcohol at the back of his throat. The strings looked so easy to maneuver and reshape that he reached out and tore a chunk of the Veil off and started molding it in his hands.
Immediately the Fade lashed back screaming, the flowers whispering shrilly, the memory souring to bitter acid on his tongue.
Scholar smacked at his hand, the Fade substance dissipating. "Why would you do that?"
Malcolm rubbed his hand with confusion. "I thought you told me to shape the Fade!"
"The Fade has feelings like you do Somniari. How would you like it if someone ripped off a piece of you!?" Scholar then yanked one of his pointy ears in emphasis. "Now apologize!"
Malcolm rubbed his ear, scowling, but found the flowers were starting to quiver at his anger and he quickly tamped down his fury. He held up his hands, trying to open his heart out in apology as Scholar had taught him. "I meant no harm. Didn't realize that hurt you."
The Fade quieted to a whisper, a nervous bristling energy rustling through the leaves.
"Now ask this time." Scholar took Malcolm's hands and brought them together.
Malcolm furrowed his eyebrows, seeing the strings at the tips of his fingers. He held his breath, the Fade all of sudden looked so delicate. This time he reached out with a brush of his mind, the memory of soothing alcohol melting his tongue.
The Fade responded eagerly to Malcolm, its energy moving through him, and soon in his hand materialized an ice cool can of beer.
He tipped the can up to the sky nodding his head. "Thanks," and began to drink. Immediately his nerves felt less frazzled and on edge, and he felt re-energized. He looked around and found even more flowers were budding from the ground, their petals opening up to the sky in greeting.
Suddenly Clicky started popping in Malcolm's ears excitedly, pulling at his hair with an urgency.
Scholar cocked their head. "Are you sure? You're ready?"
Clicky was blinking with red energy, bouncing up and down as it rapped out rapid drum-like beats.
"What?" Malcolm turned to Scholar. He knew that the wisp wanted something from him, but he still could not understand it.
"They want your help to find their true name."
The wisp tugged at Malcolm's shirt. "Huh? How do I do that?"
Scholar picked up a piece of lumpia that had dropped on the ground and ate it without thought. "How have you been shaping the forest? How did you ask for your nourishment? When the path is open, you only have to walk through."
Malcolm set the beer aside and cupped his hands. The wisp settled eagerly within his fingers, feeling like a warm ball of light, not quite physical but it definitely had a sense of weight. The wisp tingled his fingers, clicking rapidly. Suddenly he could see the strings that made up the wisp's shape, the energy feeling very much like clay that would mold at the slightest touch. But he remembered how the Fade screamed when he forced it. Just a brush of fingers, and it was like something in his mind unlocked. The wisp and he were connected, the creature searching his knowledge for its truth.
Malcolm could feel the wisp start to mold on its own, needing only the gentlest of nudges to coax it along. It grew like a heartbeat shaping his memories. Malcolm let the wisp explore every sensation he had ever felt, feeling its child-like joy as it tasted each experience. It seemed to attach to the happier memories, love, hope, comfort, pleasure, and joy, but it still had a sense of incompleteness. Words in Malcolm's head echoed and were rejected. The wisp buzzed in dissatisfaction at each name and began digging deeper.
Then the wisp found the memories of Malcolm's mother cooking for him, and Malcolm could see something changed in its energy. Malcolm found his tongue reliving his childhood palate, chicken adobo, pancet, lechon, bulalo and so much that he had forgotten about. Soon he could hear the wisp chant, "tasty, tasty, tasty," over and over again as they ran through a menu of memories.
The wisp was borrowing his energy, Malcolm feeling like a battery. It was starting to feel more solid as it chose its shape. The wisp guided Malcolm's hands, molding it into a tiny flopping tongue the size of a small bat. It flapped in the air, blowing triumphant raspberries for everyone that would hear, "Tasty, Tasty, Tasty."
Malcolm pulled his hands away, the strings fading. "So that's your name. Tasty."
"Tasty!" The tongue waggled excitedly and then licked Malcolm on the cheek. "Salty. Sad. Bitter." The tongue shivered and then licked the lumpia in Scholar's hand. "Salty. Meaty. Tasty!"
Scholar handed the piece of lumpia over to Tasty. "A scholar after my own heart I see."
Malcolm rubbed his slimy cheek. "Well, I've never seen a spirit like that before."
Scholar petted Tasty affectionately as it somehow licked away at its piece of lumpia. "They're probably the only one of their kind. You did well, Somniari. Even Kindness thinks so."
The Kindness spirit floated down from their altar, looking more solid and humanoid rather than a nebulous blob, though there were still no defining features on their face. They giggled melodically, covering their hand where their mouth should have been.
Suddenly the sun darkened into night and a chill ran through the forest. Malcolm could feel something crack in the Fade, like a lock breaking open and darkness pouring in. The forest began to wither rapidly, aging into decay. Malcolm jumped to his feet, feeling the painful buzzing of demons drawing near all around him. In the shadows, shades began to form, choking out the forest flowers.
"Zelophehad!" Scholar shirked into Malcolm's shadow. "He wants to destroy everything you've done. Do not let him!"
Malcolm jumped to his feet, readying spells at his fingertips, but Kindness and Tasty blocked him from slinging them. The wisps all gathered around Malcolm buzzing at him, forming a wall of energy. Tasty spat at him darting up and down.
"If you get dragged into battle, Zelophehad wins!" Scholar cried.
"But isn't that what you want?" Zelophehad's warped voice echoed through the forest as the demons chittered excitedly, clawing at the flower stalks and ripping them into pieces. The shadows elongated over Malcolm, blocking him in. "Enact your revenge. Strike at me. Tear out my heart before I eat yours."
Malcolm's nerves were screaming at him to defend himself, but the last time he tried to fling himself at this demon, he barely made it out alive. But he couldn't abandon the forest and leave the Kindness spirit in Zelophehad's clutches.
A spell flung out. Malcolm blocked it with a barrier, and found the wisps reinforcing its wall with a hum of their magic.
Kindness floated to the center of the wisps, harmonizing brightly. The wisps weaved in dance, taking the energy of Malcolm's barrier and dispersing it around the heart of the forest. Tasty danced in the middle with Kindness, circling them like a planet in orbit.
Projectiles and tentacles and claws tore at the barrier, leaving scratches like nails in a glass.
"At last, I will devour each and every last one of you," Zelophehad screeched.
Outside of the barrier, flowers began to drop dead as the demon's presence poisoned them. The corruption felt so virulent Malcolm thought he would be swallowed by it. He lost count of all the demons clawing at the barriers, pride and rage, despair and desire all systematically rooting out every seed he had planted, every flower that bloomed. Soon every stalk was torn down, every mushroom smashed and the forest was flattened into a desolate desert. The only patch of green left was safely locked within the barrier.
A few of the wisps began to whimper as the barrier began to crack, dark mist seeping in. With it came a creeping chill that made Malcolm shiver. He braced himself. "I will not let you destroy this." His hands sparked as he readied for the first attack. Scholar zipped in front of Malcolm, waving his lumpia for attention.
"Zelophehad breathes war. But all war must end. Someone must make the first step towards peace."
"He's killing everything!" Malcolm's voice was strangled, unsure that what Scholar preached was realistic with a creature so intent on violence.
"And I will leave nothing left," the demon laughed.
"It is his nature," Scholar shook his head, his skeletal teeth elongating as the Fade around him began to warp, the green hue of the Fade fading to grey. "Somniari you shape the Fade as much as he does. If you look for the path of peace you will find it!"
Malcolm clenched his fists, which smoked with the unspent energy. He looked out towards the dead stalks on the ground, the torn petals, feeling the ache of its loss.
More demons joined the ranks, the warped fallen spirits of the forest unlucky to have been caught on the wrong side of the barrier. Dead skeletal animals wrapped in thorny vines rammed the barrier, their bones crunching sickeningly.
Tasty and the wisps kept dancing around Kindness, and their harmony kept the barrier up, but more and more cracks were forming. It was just a matter of time before the demons swarmed.
Malcolm looked at his hands. "I shape the Fade?" he asked in disbelief. How could he change that?
Scholar took his hands and folded them together. "And the Fade will help. Let it."
Malcolm took one last look at the dead forest. That was a mistake. Only a few feet away, waiting outside of the barrier was the warped twisted image of his father. He looked more monstrous, with long nails and sharp teeth, golden eyes too bright and hungry. Malcolm froze at the sight of him, and his father smiled.
"Malcolm, you've been a naughty boy." He cracked his knuckles into a fist.
Scholar turned his head. "Remember you're in control!"
But it was too late.
Malcolm staggered backward, still remembering the last beating he took. His whole body was trembling. He closed his eyes and suddenly he was back in the closet, listening to his mother scream in agony.
He opened his eyes again and everything was different. He was a child, in the house he grew up in. He could see his old legos stacked in the corner, his action figures scattered on the floor, his drawings tacked to the wall.
His father loomed over him, picking up a stuffed dog in disgust. It turned moldy and ragged in his hands, the buttons shriveling out of its socket as the toy disintegrated to dust. "Such a stubborn child only knows how to learn one way." He turned to Malcolm, smiling malevolently.
All of a sudden all of Scholar's teachings were gone. Malcolm's panic overtook him and he tried to dash out the nearest exit, which happened to be the kitchen. Malcolm ducked behind the counter, his heart galloping frantically in his chest. "You're in control," he reminded himself but he didn't feel in control. Not when he was too panicked to even think. He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself but all he could hear was his father's cruel laughter as his heavy steps came closer.
Malcolm bit his tongue, tasting blood. His breath stuttered in his chest. He tried to think of something, anything that would anchor him back to himself. He reached out into the Fade as Scholar told him, his heart screaming for help.
At first, nothing happened. He could only hear the sound of his own whimpering as the footsteps inched closer. Then a hand brushed his curls.
He looked up to see Compassion wiping his tears, and he couldn't help but notice how much she looked like his mother.
She cupped Malcolm's cheeks and touched her forehead to his and suddenly he felt more like himself. He looked down at his hands noticing they were his normal adult size again. He gazed out and the barrier was almost completely broken and claws were poking through reaching for them.
Compassion held onto Malcolm's hand as she brought him to his feet. She stared defiantly at Zelophehad still borrowing Malcolm's father's face. "You have been left unbalanced too long."
A sharp sneer curled the demon's lip. "Aw, Compassion the spoilsport. Come to ruin my playtime?"
"No, I've come to join the playtime." Compassion actually looked excited, her face radiating a bright enthusiastic smile. She still did not let go of Malcolm's hand and he felt very much like a child holding onto her and almost let go, but she squeezed on tight. She looked at him, her own blue ember eyes burrowing into him. "I will show you how to fight as I do."
Kindness floated down, their voice shrill and fading. Kindness took Compassion's hand, cupping her cheek with the other. The wisps followed, their tired voices harmonizing, as they sluggishly danced in rhythmic circles, flashing in unison like the beat of a heart.
Then the barrier cracked and the demons swarmed. The sound was like a cacophony of nails on a chalkboard. Compassion let go of both Malcolm and Kindness' hands and stepped forward. A terror demon launched its spindly arm at Compassion grasping her by the arm. Compassion grabbed it back, spinning it on its back like a tango. And then she began to sing.
"Hush now, Terror. Let go of your fear." She was speaking elvhen but Malcolm could somehow understand it. She pulled it in close for a hug, its gangly limbs flailing in confusion. "All your doubts will become clear."
The demons stopped their attack as if entranced by the song. The wisps dispersed to all the demons carrying the tune with a hum. The Fade clouds parted and the sun peeked out shining brightly on Compassion, her voice weaving into the Fade. From the dead barren dirt, sprouts started to bloom and entwined the demons, trapping most of them.
Zelophehad scowled and stomped on a growing flower, but it stubbornly wrapped around his foot and tripped him. He ripped the rose vine out by its root and snarled at his demons. "Attack the Somniari! Bring me his heart!"
The demons seemed to shake awake from the song spell. Several shades sharpened their claws and darted in on Malcolm.
Scholar was now joining the song, but his contribution was a more spoken word beat that the wisps started whispering back. "Weave the Fade. Feel the beat. Stay your blade. Move your feet."
Malcolm felt ridiculous. Would he need to start blowing bubbles again too? The demons swiped at him and Malcolm found himself ducking ice and fire spells and weaving through limbs in time to music somehow. Malcolm gritted his teeth. His life depended on it, but he didn't want to sing. This was ludicrous. Was it really necessary for life to become a musical to defeat his greatest nightmare?
Still, as he dodged and sidestepped each swipe, he found the ridiculous feelings overriding his fear, and he could start to think clearly again.
The terror demon trapped in Compassion's arms tried to jerk out of reach but Compassion spun it around, warding off more attacks with its body. All the while her elvish words seemed to unravel the demon, changing it into something else. "You can find yourself again. Be brave enough to break the chain."
The terror demon's limbs started to enlarge, growing brown fur and a very piggy snout. Suddenly Compassion was twirling the spirit of a bear, its side torn into with a jagged battle scar, but otherwise a very normal-looking spirit.
Zelophehad scowled, zeroing in on Malcolm who was busy trying not to be mauled by three shades. He moved like a blur, grabbing Malcolm by the collar, ready to rip his throat out. But instead of making the killing blow, he held Malcolm there as if waiting for something.
Compassion's voice fell to a hum. Kindness flanked her, grabbing her hand, and Scholar linked his hand too. Their voices carried through the Fade, weaving an aching harmony as they started to glow.
Malcolm could feel the terror wanting to eat him alive, but as he listened to the strange choir he couldn't help but break down in manic laughter.
Zelophehad narrowed his eyes, sneering. "What is so funny?"
Malcolm let the laugh go all the way to his belly as it shook away the nerves. This was so absurd. "I get it now," he chuckled. "You're like a mirror. You reflect whatever energy is flung at you, but you can't make a killing blow unless I do. That's why I can't kill you."
The demon's lip curled up revealing sharp teeth. "But I can kill you. I might be bound by certain laws, but I have reached beyond the Fade."
The demon tightened his grasp around his neck but Malcolm found that, though the grip was vice tight, he didn't need to breathe. For a moment he could see the strings that wove Zelophehad together and how easy it would be to reach out and unravel his malice like a loose thread.
Zelophehad seemed to sense this too and he threw Malcolm into the altar, his back slamming against the statue knocking the wind out of him. He then tackled Malcolm, his fist slamming in for a punch, but it stopped when Malcolm did not even flinch. He threw Malcolm to the ground, a roar bellowing in the back of his throat. "Fight me, damn it!"
Malcolm grinned, feeling triumphant at last. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, but I finally caught on."
"Finally," a chorus sang back before it faded to humming.
The spirit's song was growing more complex, each of the wisps taking their own melody, but they somehow weaved back together into one refrain.
Zelophehad seemed to shirk at the music. The dirt under their feet grew green again and the flower stalks and mushroom blooms were steadily overtaking the land, growing to the beat.
Compassion, Kindness, and Scholar still holding hands floated over to Zelophehad, their voices harmonizing in unison. "Is your hunger not endless? Are you not weary of pain? Are you not tired of waking? Let us heal you again."
Zelophehad swiped at the spirits in frustration but they just floated out of reach. "You will pay for your meddling. I will feast on your souls!"
Then Zelophehad morphed into a mass of tentacles with goat eyes warping out of sight and taking the ominous dark feeling with it.
The forest was definitely shorter now, more of grassland than a proper forest, but Malcolm figured that feeding more Kindness to it would fix that in time. The rest of the demons had fled and what spirits were left had been changed back by the song and were now acclimating to their new home.
The bear spirit nodded its head at Compassion and then slowly lumbered away, dragging a bad foot that looked like it had been mauled in a trap. It parted the growing flowers with its mass, only the top of its head visibly bobbing as it wandered away.
Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief, his head falling against the stone of the altar of Kindness. The dog statue's sapphire eyes shone brilliantly. The heart of the forest was still tall and strong, the flowers drinking up the sunshine with bright open petals.
Then a giant white jasmine flower spat out a golden owl that floated down to Malcolm's chest and bore at him with big inquisitive eyes.
The other spirits stopped their song and crowded around Malcolm, cooing in delight. Tasty sputtered flapping as it spurted raspberries. It licked the owl. "Soothing. Refreshing. Tasty!"
Compassion scooped up the little owl and held it to her chest. "Oh, Honesty you came back!"
Malcolm cocked his head feeling like the day couldn't get weirder but he could feel something was different about that spirit. Like he had met it before. "Another guardian spirit? How did it get here?"
"By a great act of honesty, of course." Scholar ruffled the top of the owl's ears fondly. "Just in time, too."
"Huh? When did I do that?"
"It was not you," Compassion's voice was sharp. "In fact, you've made it very hard for Honesty to come back." She placed the spirit on top of her head and it nestled in her curls like an ornament. She crossed her arms. "It's going to take some work before we restore Honesty and Kindness, so heed your actions in the waking world. They have taken shapes from you; they will be intrinsically affected by your actions."
Malcolm could feel his insides shrinking. He was already having the damnedest time restoring the Kindness spirit. Adding another spirit to juggle into that mess seemed like too much.
"So I'm supposed to kiss people's asses and now I can't lie? What's next? If there's a celibacy spirit, I quit!"
Compassion buckled over looking queasy.
Malcolm sat up alarmed, only now just remembering to check his emotions.
Compassion winced in pain. "Be more careful with your rage. Zelophehad might not kill me but you might."
Malcolm winced, feeling guilty and the spirit turned a shade of green and gagged.
"Not that emotion either," she held her mouth as if she might vomit. "You're too volatile, I can't stay around you." With shaky hands, she plucked the owl spirit off her head and deposited it on Malcolm's lap. "Just try not to kill this spirit- again." She turned to Scholar, scowling. "Teach him better."
Then Compassion blinked away leaving Malcolm with Scholar, Kindness, and Tasty who seemed to be much more used to Malcolm's mood swings.
Kindness hummed happily turning a shade of pink. They were still buzzing from the sing-along and they even looked healthier. More corporeal in every sense.
Scholar cocked their head, summoning some balut eggs which he started eating whole. "Well, that's a pretty color? Are you trying it out?"
Kindness hummed and floated to the dog statue touching the sapphire eyes and turning them into pink diamonds.
Scholar nodded resolutely. "Ah, I see. That's who you are now. Well, that's one step closer to finding the rest of you."
Malcolm cocked his head. Spirit conversations sure were confusing.
The Kindness spirit floated up towards Malcolm like a puppy showing off its sheen in a glittery glow. "Yes, you're very sparkly," Malcolm reassured Kindness, though he wasn't sure if that was what Kindness wanted.
Kindness hummed in delight, their speech almost recognizable, and then giggled. The owl in Malcolm's lap reached up their stubby wings at Kindness' glittery sheen and Kindness picked them up and whirled them around in excitement. They looked like two friends greeting after a long absence.
Malcolm sighed deeply as he laid back on the grass and looked up at the Black City looming eerily in the sky. He had survived another attack by Zelophehad and knew well enough how to stop the next encounter from being deadly. But as he stared up at the City defying gravity, he wondered how long he could balance on this knife edge before he fell off.
At least he got through it without singing.
