"And we're sure about this?" Stele asks. "I mean...are we really sure?"

It's the fourth time she's asked the question. None of them seem particularly keen on answering it again, so Scythe glares at her until the confusion leaves her eyes.

They're all tired. And anxious. Repeated questions aren't really helping.

"Everything's sorted, then?" Scythe looks at Ember. His former student is, perhaps, the most nervous of them all; she's frowning as she places her hands flat against the console of her TARDIS, her gaze distant, empty. "Ember?"

Her chosen name suits her well.

He's proud of her-he is, really. It's...complicated.

"We still need Jade," Ember murmurs, and the air in the room shifts, turns uncomfortably tense.

"I see." Scythe tenses. "And you've got that...figured out?"

"Not really," she says, biting her lip. "You know how it goes."

He does indeed.

"Keep in mind that however you decide to handle things, you'll have to deal with the consequences later," Stele says, taking the words right out of Scythe's mouth. "Are you prepared to deal with that, Ember?"

"She's just stubborn," Ember says with a grimace. She gives Stele a look. "She's my best friend. I know how she is."

Ember's flippancy puts a sour taste in his mouth. None of them agree with the war, with the Time Lords' pompous way of doing things-of dodging and darting around their enemies in an attempt to gain ground-but Jade is different, stubborn as Ember says but worse-much worse.

"She's found her cause," Stele says softly, gently. "I fear what will happen when you try and pull her away from it."

Ember's gaze hardens, flashes until her entire body is tense, buzzing with the heat that gives her her name.

Beneath their feet, the TARDIS rumbles its impatience. Ember's fingers flip across the keys. He feels the moment they leave Gallifrey, feels the moment they slip into the stars.

There's a pit in his stomach, a tremor in his chest. They're headed into dangerous territory here, and he doesn't like it-he doesn't like it at all.

"Florida's nice," Ember says, raising her voice as she ducks into one of the TARDIS' hallways in search of better-suited clothes. "Lots of beaches." She rummages through one of the blue boxes on the floor. Nothing fits her current style. She's not even sure what her current style is.

"And rain," Scythe mumbles, foul-tempered as ever. He says it so softly Ember barely catches his words.

"London has rain," she shoots back, giggling. "Lots of it." She can nearly feel Scythe's gaze bearing into her as she keeps her back to him. She pulls out a pink tank-top, drops it. Jeans. She likes jeans. Not skirts-too hard to run in.

"Florida has hurricanes." Scythe says.

"Hurricanes aren't always bad. Sometimes they miss the coast completely"

Ember stands up. Ciara comes out of nowhere-Jade's always been quiet, and she's always found amusement in startling others-but the problem now is that her voice sounds dead, flat out exhausted, no trace of energy or wit in her tone. "Finally awake, huh?" she chirps. "You slept long enough."

No response.

Confused, Ember turns and cranes her neck to look back out into the console room. Ciara's standing with her back toward the hall Ember's in. Scythe is standing near her, one hand extended toward the ceiling, Ciara's locket in his grasp.

"It's broken," she hears him say, hears the shock in his voice. "How is that possible?"

"Will it affect my memories?" Ciara asks.

Scythe huffs. "I expect it already has. Have you been dreaming?"

Ciara hums in affirmation.

"Vividly?"

Another grunt.

"Headaches?"

"Constant," Ciara says softly, and Ember's hearts twist in her chest. "I keep...seeing images. Feeling things. And it's like...it's me and not me, all at once."

Scythe nods. "Well-"

Ember's cheeks flame. She turns slowly, tries to settle back into finding an outfit. The tank-top in her hand is sweaty, sticky in her grasp. She uncurls her fingers from around it and looks down to find her hand shaking.

"I'm afraid...by the time I do open the locket, there'll be nothing of me left." Ciara murmurs. "Who was Jade? Is she...good?"

"'Good' is, generally, a lot to ask of a Time Lord," Scythe says, deadly serious, and Ember nearly smirks from her spot safely tucked into the shadows. "There are a few exceptions. Jade is...a lot of things, Ciara. If we had the time, I'd tell you. But the truth of the matter is that it's your choice-you either wither away to nothing, or you open the locket and reassume your proper identity. It's entirely up to you."

That's not exactly how Ember imagined this conversation going, and judging from the worried pulse her TARDIS gives beneath her, Ciara doesn't take it well. But Scythe turns away and the conversation is, effectively, over, leaving all of them to go back to what they were doing before.

"Ember-"

"Put these on." Ember panics, reaches into the box and pulls out the first two things she touches. There's a few things she never wants to talk about with Jade. One of them is the circumstances that brought them here. The others are...unimportant.

Unimportant. Definitely.

"These-you just gave me two shirts, Ember," Ciara tilts her head. "And besides-I think what I'm wearing is just fine, don't you?"

"Right, uh, sorry." Ember's entire face goes uncomfortably warm. "Ignore me. I'm just…"

Ciara shrugs, silent, then walks away with another word.

And Ember just watches her, miserably confused. "I didn't mean literally…"

They open the TARDIS doors and Ciara's hit by something, everything, all at once.

The air is thick, filled with moisture and heat and the scent of something sweet; Ciara looks to her left and smiles-they've landed in a nearby orange grove. They're surrounded by trees in full bloom, oranges ripe on the branches, framed by white blossoms. There are waves rolling, crashing in the distance.

She blinks, inhales deep, trying to carve every smell, every sensation, into her brain.

This place is a little slice of heaven.

She's been here before, only...she can't remember when. And yet, in the back of her mind is the remnant of her old memories, her fake memories, and when she focuses, they crystallize into a hominess, a peace. She's from here. This is her home.

Red skies flash through her mind again. A golden dome. Snatches of voices. Her head throbs and she blinks the pain away.

Home-whatever. She doesn't even know where that is anymore.

Scythe brushes past her. He only bumps her, but the touch is still enough to bring her out of her daze. She blinks. She's back in the grove. Ember's shuffled past her and is heading down the path down to the beach.

She looks back in Ciara's direction, her eyes shining. "Coming?" she asks, lips pulling into a wry little grin.

"Coming," Ciara answers, a bit startled. Then again,she thinks, snorting, Ember is wildly emotional. Whatever was bothering her before must not have been important after all. "Hey-Em, where do you think the Sage is?"

Scythe chokes a little, freezes where he stands. A few steps away, Ember does the same.

Ciara frowns. "Did I say something wrong?"

"What did you just call me?"

"Sorry!" Ciara's cheeks flush. "I just...it seemed…"

"Why do you always insist on giving me nicknames, Jade?"

"Nicknames are fun! And besides, you love me."

"...I do, don't I?"

"-ara? Ciara, you in there?"

She blinks, focuses. The world is blurry, everything muddled. Ember's voice is warbled as she moves in front of Ciara, a caramel-colored swirl moving gently up and down in front of her.

Heartbeats. She can hear her heartbeats. And suddenly she's back on Gallifrey again, and she's-

"Ciara!" Ember snaps her fingers, the sound too loud to be more than the regular gesture. Ciara rocks, her whole body going stiff, cold as she struggles out of her daze. Ember is staring at her. Scythe is off to the side, shaking his head.

"What happened?" Ciara asks.

Ember curses, the sound gentle and brusque all at once. It's not a word Ciara understands, which only adds to her confusion.

"You called me 'Em'," Ember says, "you haven't done that in years."

"Oh." She's...not sure what that means. "Sorry?"

Ember's lips pinch together. "It's fine," she says, in a way that implies the exact opposite.

"We should get going-" Scythe says, clearing his throat. "We have a Sage to find-"

"Nicknames," Ciara says, ignoring the way Scythe glares at her when she cuts him off. "You didn't let anyone else give you nicknames."

Ember takes a step backward. "And you know that how?" she asks, brown eyes wide.

The question makes her freeze for a second.

"I...saw it, sort of," she says, stumbling over the words, suddenly uneasy. "Except it was more… instinctive-like a memory, except not as cloudy. I heard the words and I just...knew."

"Telepathy," Scythe murmurs, sounding awed. "Even as a human, you're remarkable, Jade."

Ciara stares at him. "Telepathy, like-"

"Please, is anyone there? I'm lost, I'm so lost…"

"-like the ability to read minds, yes." Scythe nods. "And, as if on cue…"

"Ciara, did you hear that just now?" Ember asks.

"Yeah." Ciara nods. "Who was that? Why was it…"

"I can feel you…"

"It's Sage," Ember frowns. "I don't know how, but she's projecting her thoughts. We can track her. Scythe?"

"Five steps ahead," Scythe says from several feet away. Ciara blinks. How did he get there?

Ember curses. "She could be anywhere," she mutters, jogging up to catch Scythe. "Where-"

"Down this ridge, toward that hut," Scythe says, looking at her strangely. "Did you really never pay attention to my lectures at all?"

"I paid attention," Ember retorts, her face screwing into a scowl. "You were just a boring teacher."

"Boring-!" Scythe sputters, whirling on her. "Honestly, the audacity-"

"Excuse me," Ciara butts in before the memory sizzling at the forefront of her mind can take shape. "Are we going to find her? Or no?"

Scythe gives Ember a look and she returns it, glowering. The two of them head down the hill without so much as another word.

Ciara trails behind them, snorting.

They really are insane.

Ember surges forward, then comes to a sudden stop, yelping as a big red car races past them. The picturesque orange grove is sliced in half by a slab of gray road. To make matters worse, the street is a busy one, and the fumes from the passing cars are almost enough to smother the scent of the orange grove behind them.

"Impatient," Scythe sighs, maneuvering toward the small traffic beacon on the street's corner. He jabs at the button, stares across the road to watch as the numbers on the other side tick down to safety.

"'S alright," Ember beams back at him, "I've still got a few lives left."

Scythe stares at her, and Ember pales.

"Ah, hells," she mumbles, looking sick. "I'm sorry."

He doesn't say anything in response, just looks straight ahead.

Ember stares down at her shoes.

"Light's green," Ciara reminds her gently, laughs as Ember takes off across the street, blatantly ignoring the crosswalk down by the light where Scythe is.

Beyond the groves is a series of shops-small ones, plaster walls pale and sunkissed, faint brown stonework decorating their fronts. They're tourist shops, names etched out in bold, cartoonish fonts, brightly colored clothes set out in their windows.

"Jade, please-"

She stops walking.

"Not you too," Ember's immediately at her side, tugging at her arm. "You're still human, if you-"

A car flies past them, it's horn shrieking impossible rage as it streaks through the stoplight and around the next bend in the road.

Ember glares in its direction, her fist curling around Ciara's arm. "We gotta go," she says softly. "Ciara, come on-"

"She said my name," Ciara whispers, awed. "I'm-she knows who I am."

Ember's gaze goes hazy, almost...sad. "Your mind feels the same," she says, "that's probably all it is."

There's something else she isn't saying, but Ciara doesn't push. She follows Ember to the other side, blinks as her head begins to ache-

"Jade, please."

"Can't you hear her?" she asks, rubbing at her forehead. "She's so loud."

"The human mind wasn't meant for telepathy," Scythe says in gentle warning. "Ciara-"

"Please, just leave."

The world spins. Ciara's vaguely aware of Ember's grip around her arm but she slumps, moans as her stomach begins to churn and her pulse speeds up, heart racing until she can hear it thumping in her ears, feel it in her throat.

"This is your fault. You did this to me."

"She's going to pass out!" Ember exclaims. There's a rush of wind and then Scythe is holding onto her too, and there's chatter beyond them as passersby start to take notice, and there are other thoughts creeping in and everything is just so loud-

"Damn it!" Ember thunders, and the world shifts and suddenly they're on the beach, there's soft sand beneath Ciara's arms and legs, grains trickling into her ears and hair. "Ciara, listen to me. Listen to my voice, just my voice."

Her world broadens, then narrows. She focuses. Everything hurts.

"Something is wrong," Scythe says.

Ember snorts. "Yeah? No shit."

"Language-"

"Don't 'language' me, old man."

She's exhausted but her mind's whirling, everything pushing in too fast, too much at once.

"Her locket, where's her locket?"

"Did she leave it on the TARDIS?"

"I don't know, is there any point in-"

"It has to be her choice, Ember."

"I know, damn it!"

Ciara shuts her eyes. Cold, clammy fingers trace her temples, press into her skull. Her mind opens-for a single moment, it feels like she's not alone in her head, and the sensation is familiar and strange all at once.

"That's the problem," Scythe says, his voice trembling slightly. "Sage's opened a link with her."

"She what?"

"I'm not sure either of them are conscious of it," Scythe begins, but he cuts off, sighing. The breeze blows again, tossing sand onto Ciara's face.

Ciara coughs. Her throat is raw and aching as she tries to sit up, clear her throat and talk, because she can almost feel Ember's anger as she runs off, headed...somewhere. "S-Scythe-"

"Ciara, I need you to listen to me."

Ciara blinks.

"The locket-your locket. Where is it? Is it on you? Is it back on the TARDIS?"

She croaks, heaves dryly as the air sticks in her throat "I-"

"Don't speak, just think it." Scythe's crooked fingers tap her temple again.

"It's on the TARDIS," She thinks toward him, the thought turning her brain to static, the world around her turning to nothing but noise as she panics, the pain in her head turning unbearably hot. "Please-" she stutters out, but there's no answer, and she opens her eyes and the world is blurry and shifting but she can see that Scythe is gone, abandoned her, and her back arches and she spasms-

"You idiot!" She hears Ember roar in her mind, not to her but to someone else, someone who wilts at the sound of the absolute fury in Ember's tone. "You're killing her!"

She's sitting down in a library filled to the brim with big books, thick ones bound in brown leather and golden trim. Fancy books-the kind with a lot of words that are all fluff. This one isn't. She turns the page, scours it hungrily, fully absorbed in its contents until-

Something small and metallic thunks down on the table next to her. She looks up to find Ember staring down at her, expression caught between amusement and annoyance.

"Do you know what time it is?" she asks.

Jade snorts. "I'm well aware."

"The library closed ages ago," Ember huffs, pulling out the chair across from her.

"Then why are you still here?"

"Because you are," Ember replies simply, winking at her. "Hurry up and finish studying, Jade. I'd like to go home at some point tonight." She pauses. "I brought you soup."

Her head stops aching.

It's almost instantaneous, when it happens-except that the echoes of the pain in her skull and chest are still unpleasant sparks at the edge of her awareness-and she's suddenly able to take a deep breath for what feels like the first time in forever.

She breathes. In, out. Her heart is still racing. Everything aches, if not as badly as before. She's-

"Jade?" A soft voice whispers, an unfamiliar one, sort of.

"She goes by Ciara right now," Ember says, "although-"

"I've found the locket."

Ciara sits up, suddenly extremely aware of all the eyes on her, and curls her arms around her chest. "What's going on?"

"You scared us for a moment there," Scythe says, kneeling down with a grunt. "Are you feeling alright now?"

Ciara swallows. "I think so," she says, "although-"

"Hm?"

"It's nothing." She forces away the discomfort niggling in her stomach, files it away for later. "What happened?"

"You almost died." Ember says, blunt, her voice trembling. "Sage here opened an involuntary mind link with you and nearly killed you."

"Involuntary-how?"

"You're human-you don't have the ability to shield your mind the way we do." Scythe answers. "I wish I could tell you such a matter was trivial, but unfortunately…"

Ciara's heart skips a beat.

And Scythe looks equally perturbed. "For a moment there, I was afraid we were going to lose you," he murmurs, reaching into his pocket. "The human mind wasn't meant to experience that kind of strain. I'm sure Sage was just unable to remember that little detail-otherwise she would have chosen a different method of communication?"

Sage bites her lip. "Yes-I'm sorry, Jade."

Ciara stares down at the sand.

"Do you realize what this means, Ciara?" Scythe probes. "You're too vulnerable as a human-you need to regain your memories as soon as possible-your proper biology makes you stronger, less defenseless-"

"But we're fine," Ciara says. "So what-I can't use telepathy. We're not in any danger."

Scythe's jaw twitches.

"Are we?" Ciara presses, concerned. "Scythe?"

"The sooner the better, Ciara," Scythe says, and then he presses her locket into her hands.

Ember and Scythe exchange a look.

"We're going to leave you alone for a while," Ember says. "Just...think about it, okay?"

They start to leave.

Sage stays at her side, frozen.

"What you said earlier-" Ciara begins.

Sage's expression hardens. "I don't regret a word of it," she says, green eyes flashing. "You'll know, when you remember. You'll get what you deserve." She turns on her heel and walks off, kicking up spouts of sand in her wake.

She's only known Sage for a few minutes, and she's already not sure what to think.

She stares down at the locket in her hand.

It's burned, and maybe that means something and maybe it doesn't, but the truth is that she doesn't know, she doesn't know a lot of things right now and this is solid-she doesn't want to go through what she just went through ever again, doesn't want to be that close to dying, and she's tired of not knowing what's going on, she's-

She flips the locket open.