WARRIORS HIGH

ISLAND OF THE FALLEN


CHAPTER THREE

HOUSE OF MEMORIES


It may have taken years of living there, but Riven wasn't all that bad to Sunfield anymore.

Strangely enough, he wanted nothing to do with the place despite his happy-go-lucky demeanor. As he stumbled into the city, his father's death still fresh in his head, Sunfield had been thoroughly unsettled by the drabness of the grime-filled, groveling community, centered around the sewer-based marketplace. Something about the dark corners around him made him fear that his demons would lash out and drag him to hell themselves if he didn't watch his back.

But even then, he was still kicking. He had been taken into the higher ranks of Riven when a man called Thunderwing found him on the streets outside Warehouse 29, not older than 12 at the time, and took him in. It was where he met Fang and Poppyfrost, Aldreheart and Sparkpelt. Some of the best friends one could ask for.

As time went on, he found his calling selling vinyls with an old Japanese woman who had been deported for a crime she didn't commit (Sunfield took great pleasure in channeling his inner weeb and playfully bickering with her in flawless Japanese. And people said that My Hero Academia was a waste of time) and fostered a place for himself. A place where he could savor music and drown out his fears without having to sip a drop of alcohol.

When Bloodclan took over Forrestlake for a week nearly a year and a half ago, something had spurred in him. A sense of duty, not unlike the boys in those movies that risked everything to serve in the army during WWII, to rise into Poppyfrost's ranks of spies and assassins and kick some hunky thug ass. Besides, Fang had taught him how to spar and shoot a gun. How hard could it be?

Well, it took dramatic pleading, several failed attempts at guilt-tripping (he loved Fang dearly, but God his stoicism was annoying) and promises that he wouldn't get himself killed, but a solid eight weeks later, Fang sent him after a boy that had information on some happy-go-lucky juggernauts that had loose trigger fingers on bombs.

Not even a week into his assignment, his target was holding him by the throat at knife-point.

If Sunfield said to anyone that the same boy would become one of his closest friends, they probably would have either laughed or questioned if they were in a bad drama.

But Dusty had stuck it out for him. They had endured 20 days in nuclear fallout together without Sunfield getting stabbed. If they weren't friends after that, then the brown-haired boy needed to get his social status re-evaluated.

Sunfield smiled softly at the thought of Dusty. It had been months since they talked face to face, ever since he left with Axis to that big tour.

He'll get all of the pancakes, instruments and eye candy he'll ever want, he thought to himself, Good for him.

Was he jealous? Maybe a little. I mean, who wouldn't be? But he had a life here, holding up the record shop on this side of the marketplace. He got to listen to whatever the hell he wanted and weaponize his charm and good looks to make a few bucks. Maybe one day he could cool himself to find him someone that could join him for coffee...a brown-haired girl in jeans or a well-toned boy in khakis...his bisexuality gave his standards plenty of room to wander. For now, though, he was content comedically drooling over Michael Bublé's Christmas vinyl in the middle of July for shoppers to see.

Besides...he had other things to worry about.

Idly, his hand drifted to his neck. The wounds had long healed, but the left side of his throat area always felt...empty. Whatever was going on, it wasn't right.

After recovering from the reset, which Jaywhisker had told him about at the Christmas party, Sunfield had tried hard to avoid dwelling on his death. Even the thought of his death sent a foreign chill down his spine he was never ready for.

But he could never forget. The sensation of the shrapnel slicing into his larynx and ripping apart his neck...the feeling of his blood choking out of him...the coldness that flushed the soul from his body like a wet towel…

How could anyone forget something like that?

He didn't talk about it much. Sometimes he would bring it up in passing in his talks with Alderheart, who was on an oxygen tank for his cystic fibrosis, but the last thing he needed to do was ruin the mood with the thoughts in the back of his mind.

He'd find something else to think about eventually. That's what he always told himself.

His watch beeped, signaling 9 PM. Closing time.

He hopped up from his chair, cracking his back before tucking away the cash register into a locker under the desk, turning off the lights and slipping out, locking the doors and flipping the sign to Closed as he walked into the dying throngs of the marketplace in the evening.

As he waved to past customers and acquaintances along his path to the Warehouse 29, where the entrance to the royal wing was, he couldn't help but feel like there was a weight over everyone that was walking to and fro. Almost like the world's worst weighted blanket, per se.

Sunfield couldn't blame them. After the reset, hundreds of people, men and women who sometimes had children in their care were just gone. Disappeared without a trace. The crisis went on until around January, where those who lost people either cut their losses or were given the cold shoulder by the police. What if people started disappearing again without an explanation? He could definitely see why the police were at odds with the people these days.

Sunfield wasn't too discouraged, though. It was his purpose to make these people have slightly better days and by God was he going to commit to that.

He let his feet lead him to the secluded entrance to the royal wing. After navigating the vast concrete halls (and grinning to himself at the memory of Dusty holding his hand. Damn, the boy was gay), he turned into the main control room.

He hit the lights, stretching as they flickered on and illuminated the bar to his left and the walls littered with newspapers, pushpins and string. Fang was reaching up and stamping a pin into an obscured image on the wall.

"Rough day, Old Man?"

Fang jolted ever so slightly, but still didn't turn to greet him.

"I'm working."

"I'm liking what you've done with the place," said Sunfield with a grin as he pulled a juice box out from under the bar, "Very...avant-garde."

"You're hilarious."

"If I wasn't, you would've killed me by now."

"Oh, don't worry," said Fang gruffly, "I've come very close in spite of your...wit."

"I have absolutely zero doubt about that," said Sunfield before sipping the straw.

Fang didn't try to respond. He finished pinning up some more strings before stepping back and heaving a sigh.

"So who you hunting down now?" said the boy, sitting on a table and following Fang's eyes as they traced the red lines.

"ARS."

"Still?" said Sunfield, "You've been trying to hunt those guys down for weeks. Why not just go back to punching the fuck out of shoplifters?"

Fang grunted. "I have a lead."

"That's what you say every time I ask why you're still hunting them down."

"This one's my best one yet."

"Fang, they're invisible." said Sunfield, before pausing to finish his apple juice, "It's you can't figure them out, then they're probably very good at what they do."

"Which is exactly why I'm hunting them down."

The boy backed off. He knew when he needed to stop himself.

But this was unlike anything he had ever seen from Fang. Usually, he'd call on the rest of Proto Court, the protectorate he'd been indoctrinated into when he was found on the streets, to help him out, but he hadn't talked to anyone, or even left the room for weeks at a time. Sometimes it took Brightheart pulling him by the earlobe to eat when Poppyfrost and Sparkpelt made Sunday dinner.

Fang was treating ARS like a grudge match than an actual threat.

That was enough to unsettle Sunfield enough to make him back off and leave him to his business.

"I'm gonna play a game with Alderheart."

"Good plan."

Yep. Fang needed some alone time.

Sunfield slipped out of the room and shut the door behind him, walking down the cold blue-lit halls before turning in to see Alderheart and Sparkpelt. The former was strapped to his oxygen tank, taking deep, controlled breaths while Sparkpelt seethed over Pre-Calculus.

He sat down next to the boy. "How's life?"

Alderheart did his best impression of a stoner and gave the "ok" sign.

"Yeah, lucky you that you get to go only three times a week…" muttered Sparkpelt a little too loudly.

"Ooh…" said Sunfield, closing his eyes and sticking his arms out as Alderheart flipped off his sister, "I'm sensing some baaaaad vibes in this general area."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"That's Shawn Spencer to you, mademoiselle."

Sparkpelt threw a pencil in the direction of the two Y-chromosomes, but missed and hit the shelf of games instead.

Sunfield's eyes lit up with an idea.

"Parcheesi, anyone?"

"But we have dinner in an hour," said Alderheart through his plastic ventilator.

"Very funny," said Sunfield, clearing off the coffee table.


Just after midnight, Sunfield's victory at Parcheesi had worn thin.

He finished washing his face and looked into the mirror, dreading the mattress he'd have to pass out on. As he rubbed his face vigorously with a towel, he opened the medicine cabinet tucked behind the mirror and grabbed a small orange container with the label of melatonin.

Sure, it helped him sleep, but it did nothing for the dreams he didn't want to have.

He popped the sleeping pill, swigged some water and dragged himself to the mattress.

The first time Sunfield re-lived his death after the reset, he had been so uncharacteristically rocked that he had sworn off sleep. The coldness of death, specifically being able to describe how it felt to die, gave him a rush of existential adrenaline that threatened to make him lose his lunch every time he gasped awake.

So he confided in Brightheart, and he had given him some melatonin to help him sleep. He had briefly tried a dream suppressant but dropped it after it made him nauseous. But after sidestepping sleep for as long as he could, he went to bed on melatonin for the first time.

And...it was safe to say that things hadn't gotten better.

Just...weirder.

It wasn't waking up to one Garrison blowing out his neck with a sidearm, but it wasn't exactly riding on a unicorn to heaven with a girl named Patricia holding his hand either.

This specific dream, he woke up in an armchair, invisibly bound to the red pleather seat and looking at a chess set.

He blinked and looked up at his captor emerging from the darkness.

"You've certainly become one for theatrics."

"It's for the sake of your own entertainment."

"How sweet of you."

The boy sitting across from him was a near carbon copy of Sunfield. They had the same structure, same face, same eye color. But the imposter had some noticeably different features, like a more disheveled clothing choice, a distinct shade of malice behind his sky blue eyes and a thick red liquid grappled to his hands.

"Game night?"

"You seemed in the mood. Congrats on your Parcheesi win, by the way."

"Aw, thank you."

Sunfield grabbed the pawn in the fifth column from the left and moved it forward two spaces. E2 to E4.

"So, Sunspot," said Sunfield, chuckling at the imposter's name for himself, "What tactic of manipulation are you going to try and use against me now?"

Sunspot grabbed the pawn across from Sunfield's first move and flicked it forward one space. E7 to E6.

"Well, I could be petty and have Garrison fuck up your neck again," he said, a single drop of blood from his hands onto the chessboard, "But that's too easy. Tonight...I just wanna play chess."

Sunfield moved D2 to D4.

"Sure, alright. And what price are you gonna force me to play if I lose?"

Sunspot moved D7 to D5.

"Usual stakes. Control over the host...the whole shabang."

Sunfield moved his leftmost knight to where his second pawn used to be. B1 to D2.

"Right, right...So you can extinguish those who did me wrong. Again."

Sunspot moved his leftmost knight next to his first pawn. G8 to F6.

"Come on. You can't deny that I'm effective."

Pawn E4 to E5.

"Doesn't mean I have to like it."

Knight F6 to D7.

"Of course not. It's all a matter of perspective...and the bigger picture."

The game went on. It wasn't until Sunspot had moved his queen in front of the pawn second from the right that Sunfield broke the silence.

"It's a little quiet," he said, moving his pawn second from the right forward one, "Can we get something more than just silence."

"Sure."

Sunspot grabbed the pawn at C5 and knocked over the white pawn at D4.

"I hear motherly lullabies are in fashion."

Sunfield's gaze darkened.

"Sorry," he said, taking the pawn Sunspot just moved, "I'm not in the mood for music."

"Aw, you're no fun…" whined Sunspot playfully as he moved his leftmost bishop five spaces, placing Sunfield's king in Check, "I found this really beautiful one from your memories...late 2008...You were barely a year old and wailing...And you thought it was an angel from heaven…"

"Have you ever thought that weaponizing my mother isn't going to be effective?" said Sunfield quietly as he moved his king out of Check.

"Seems to be plenty effective now," chided Sunspot as he moved the pawn second from the left two spaces.

"It's not gonna work," said Sunfield, trying to hide how much the mention of his mother hurt him, "I'm not gonna let you torture me."

"Really, Sunfield…"

Sunspot moved his pawn from G5 to F4. Pawn take pawn.

"I surely cannot be as bad as your father…"

That did it.

Hastily, Sunfield grabbed his bishop and whacked the pawn Sunspot just moved off the board.

"We're done here."

"Fair enough."

The moment Sunfield stood up, he was staring down the barrel of Garrison's pistol.

BANG!

Dusty screamed.

Shots fired.

The darkness of the mountain entrance was replaced by the forest.

And as his vision blurred, he could see, feel Dusty's heart breaking all over again. Pleading him to hold on.

Sunfield hated this. Hated this so much.

He wanted to be free of it.

Bzzzzzzzzt.

Everything halted. Sunfield's vision suddenly grew sharp.

Bzzzzzzzzt.

Sunfield jolted awake, his arm shakily wiping off the sweat as he searched for the source of the noise.

Bzzzzzzzzt.

He grabbed his phone from the desk and looked at the name.

His eyes brightened as he accepted the call.

"Dusty?"

A smile grew on his face as he heard his friend on the other line.

"Hi! How have you been?"


"We'll set up another check-up for two weeks from today just to see if everything is still going alright, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"And remember," said the doctor, helping a pregnant Icecloud to her feet, "Make sure that someone is nearby so if the contractions start early, they can get you here."

She shuddered at that, which the doctor seemed to notice. "It's going to be alright. We'll be right by your side through all of it."

"Okay…" she said quietly, "Thank you, Dr. Townsworth…"

Icecloud slowly began to shuffle out of the office and into the sleek, white hallways of the hospital. She passed by friendly nurses and half-heartedly returned their greetings, but kept her arms close to her chest as she walked to the elevator.

It was almost embarrassing, how much anxiety she had just from walking through a hallway unattended. But who knows if there was a predator disguised as a nurse that would follow her and pin her against the wall?

The thought made her turn around. No one was following her.

She slipped into the elevator and pressed the button for the main floor. The doors slowly whirred shut and Icecloud was left to be lowered.

She felt cold. The noise of the elevator faded out to the whirring of the ventilator in one certain jail cell.

The scent of the elevator clouded up with the musk of mortal sin.

Icecloud began to freak out, her breathing growing labored and short. Her eyes darted around into the warmly lit elevator interior. Tears built up in the corners of her eyes.

And then the voice came.

"It's alright, Icecloud."

"They cannot hurt you."

"Breathe."

Icecloud shut her eyes.

And breathed.

The brain-based hallucinogens were locked out and the sounds returned to reality. And she reminded herself that she was no longer hopeless.

Foxleap, Jack, all of her friends and family were there for her.

The doors opened and she stumbled out, taking a moment to breath the fresh summer air venting through the windows of the lobby and straighten up, walking into the waiting room.

Ivypool, who was texting someone on one of the seats, got up when she saw Icecloud and hugged her gently.

"How are you?"

"Fine," the pregnant woman said quietly, "Townsworth said everything is going well."

"Good to hear," said Ivypool, taking her hand and leading her out into the parking lot. The sun was setting in the west as they strapped themselves into Ivypool's own 2024 RAM 1500, which Foxleap had gotten her for a "thank you for becoming my girlfriend again" gift.

Ivypool set off and headed for home as Icecloud fidgeted with her hands nervously.

"Anything from Jack?"

"No…" said Ivypool, "Nothing since last week. He did say that this was a particularly elusive mission, though…"

"I know…" said Icecloud sadly, "That's alright. He'll be back soon."

There was a brief silence as Ivypool turned onto the highway before she broke the silence again.

"Have you...picked an institution yet?"

"I was thinking the one that moved into the old house," she said with a shrug, "They seem to be treated well. Plus, Jaywhisker enjoys entertaining them every weekday."

"That's...pretty close to home."

Icecloud sighed. "At this point, I can't let my own mind go too far."

Ivypool nodded sadly, making a valiant effort to hide the guilt that Icecloud just caught as she hid it away.

"I hear Cinderheart's sleeping with Lionblaze again," said the former, trying to change the subject.

"That's exciting."

It was exciting. Usually, the sex life of anyone in the house wasn't a topic for discussion, but Lionblaze and Cinderheart had been on the rocks after a sudden miscarriage. No one was ready for anything to go wrong, especially when the sexy adult version of their son had come to visit them just nine months prior.

Coupled with Icecloud's own child coming within the month...Safe to say everyone was afraid this was some sort of sick foreshadowing.

"Do you know if Lionblaze is gonna propose?"

"Dunno," said Ivypool, "I think that...with what happened he wants to take it slower than they had been. Personally, I think that Jayfeather and Half Moon being engaged is enough for one household."

Icecloud smirked. "Imagine if Berrynose and Honeyfern got engaged."

"Ugh! It would be like every day is their honeymoon!"

The two chuckled, realizing how grown up they felt. Once upon a time, they were just a group of best friends who would clumsily fall in love for the other. Now...three years later, it was a shoestring of families united under one roof.

Icecloud missed the days where they could just goof around, get high and blackout drunk and go on double or triple dates. Those made her feel young and carefree...like she was actually living life to the fullest.

But now everyone was starting their twenties. Sure, some things never changed, like Hazeltail being the best cook on the island, Berrynose and Honeyfern fucking like rabbits and Breezepelt being a lovable asshole, but now Jayfeather and Half Moon were going to get married, Lionblaze and Cinderheart had been trying for a child, Hollyleaf was considering moving to England after her brother's wedding to settle down with her boyfriend, her brother was about to propose to the woman next to her and Icecloud…

She was about to give birth to a child she would be putting up for adoption.

It was the right choice. She and Jack had talked about it for months after her rescue. Icecloud knew that the "conventional" choice would be to get an abortion, but in the end...it just didn't sit right with her. She felt too fragile for a procedure that risked being that damaging. Thankfully, she had a loving boyfriend and a loving family that supported her at every turn of the path.

Without them, she didn't think she'd still be alive.

The drive finished in silence. Ivypool drove the winding path up the mountain and, after pausing to open the false mountainside to their massive garage, pulled the truck in and locked up.

The two walked into the elevator, doing the handprint scans and stepping into the elevator.

Despite the previous episode in the hospital, Icecloud felt calm as she was whisked up to the main floor of the mountain mansion. Just the fact that there was someone there was enough to keep her nerves at bay.

The doors open to a lively environment. Hazeltail was cooking up dinner, donning a pink apron Hollyleaf got for her on Christmas that said "I'm gay and I cook. What more do you want?" and most of the group was on the couch next to the massive TV, complaining about Jaywhisker was enough of an angsty teen for this household. (Mallowleaf was nearby, chuckling at the whining but ready to step in if one word was a bit too much of a hot take.)

The two were on their way to join her when Foxleap snuck up from behind them and swept Ivypool off her feet and into a bridal carry, making Icecloud jump.

"Love of my life," he said, pressing their noses together.

"Love of my life," smirked Ivypool, pressing a brief kiss on his lips.

"Isn't this conversation most interesting…?"

"No, not really."

"You don't enjoy complaining about horny teenagers?"

"Well, you're the most interesting person talking, so…"

"That's not correct."

Foxleap gave her a look.

"Ah," said Ivypool, "As a matter of fact, I just remembered I have a fiery rivalry with teenage hormones that I need to vent about."

"Yes, you do," said Foxleap, setting her down and guiding her towards the couch, "Now you should go complain about it."

"Yes, I should."

Foxleap returned to a chuckling Icecloud, a goofy grin on his face.

"Subtle."

"Aren't I?"

"Very."

"I need your help."

"I'm not gonna pick the ring, Foxleap."

"Yes, I know that...but I need your advice. You're interested in jewelry."

"That was in 8th grade. And I have other things to worry about."

"Pleaseeeeeee?!" said Foxleap quietly, clasping his hands.

Icecloud could have planted her flag, but she sighed and gave in.

"Fine."

As she walked towards the elevator to the workshop, Icecloud blinked.

"How many diamonds does it have?"

"Does that really matter, though?"

"Is it more than 50?"

Foxleap paused.

"Uh...well...kinda?"

"Jesus Christ. Thank yourself you asked for a second opinion."

"Only from the best."


Icecloud woke up lying face up on a chiropractic table.

"These dreams are getting weird."

"Well, pregnancy does a lot of weird shit to the mind."

She glanced at her double, who was in a t-shirt and jeans. Her hair was, unlike her own silver tipped dirty blonde hair, was a sleek, clean brown draping over her shoulders and along her breasts. She looked composed and her eyes were soft.

"So how did the appointment go?" she asked as Icecloud, not pregnant since this was a dream, sat up and took her shirt off.

"Weren't you there?"

"Only for the elevator ride...I can tell if you're having a crisis and calm you down."

"Right…" said Icecloud as her double started to feel up her muscles, working the tension in her stomach, "Nothing really new. The baby's healthy, I'm healthy...Now I just wait until the contractions."

"That's pretty ominous."

"Like...yes, I was sexually violated until I couldn't stand. I've felt some of the most pain one can probably feel, so...Why am I so worried?"

"Probably because every woman that's ever given birth and their mother says it's the worst pain in the world?"

"Yeah…" said Icecloud nervously, "Probably…"

"Look," said the double, gesturing for her to lay on her stomach, "I've spent a lot of time studying the extent of my abilities here and...it seems that I can contact you when you are in a state of deep distress. So, if you wish, I can stay near and talk you through your first contraction."

"Won't you feel the pain as well?"

"Hopefully not. But I guess we'll have to see."

Icecloud sighed, her head facing the ethereal floor as her double rubbed and stretched the muscles on her back.

"What if something goes wrong? She mumbled mostly to herself, "What if I kill the baby somehow? What if I pass out or…"

"Icecloud."

"Yes?" she said, looking up at her double.

"I'm gonna walk you through everything. I'm your voice of reason when you need me to be. But in order for that to work...I need you to trust me."

Icecloud's eyes blinked with uncertainty as her double lowered herself to look her in the eyes.

"Do you?"

Icecloud thought a bit…

...and then gave a short, conflicted nod.

"Yes."

"Thank you."

And all throughout the night, Icecloud's double didn't let her dwell into nightmares.


So...I'm gonna be honest, I'm a little worried.

There are a lot, and I mean a lot of subplots I've placed on my shoulders. Some are much more clear-cut, but others, like these, are really dense and complex.

And I haven't even gotten to the main mindfuckery I'm about to spout.

So I guess if you really wanna stick around, you're gonna have to bear with me. Because I'm experimenting with a lot of weird shit and I'm gonna try my hardest to make sure all of it is comprehensible.

That being said, SUNFIELD'S BACK!

Need I say more?

As for Icecloud, well...

Now I actually have to confront my fear of touching her. Because I dragged her through hell and back. If this subplot fails, then that's something I'm never gonna let go.

Hopefully, this chapter made sense and you enjoyed it.

See you around.

Best,

~Res