Hungry Ghosts

The only monsters Gol had ever dealt with were the truly terrible people that went out of their way to make his and his sister's life miserable. The experiences were few and far in-between, but they were there, and stood out as stains across a lonely existence - stains that Maia remembered when conducting herself around others. At first, Gol understood. Once bitten, twice shy. Innocent or not, they were all complicit to some degree – all monsters in her eyes. But now, he wasn't so sure. How could there be monsters in places where the sunlight hit endless valleys of green, birthing life in its wake? Where no blood was shed and no eerie mist, sheltering a dark underbelly, outstayed its welcome? Monsters indeed roamed the world, but they weren't in Steephead Village - or any village for that matter. They were here on Misty Island, seconds away from devouring him and Maia. How could he have led them to such an awful place? He would have given anything to turn back time and stay by the boat… or even remain at home instead. He could picture it now. Their cosy quarters, their functional main room -

An ear-splitting roar assaulted his ears. The Lurkers must finally be upon them. Gol's breath caught. He kept his eyes shut tight.

Then, silence.

Hesitantly, he parted one eyelid. There was no ring of beady eyes and bared teeth around them. There was no encroaching mist or desolate soil. Instead, the familiar walls of their small hut enclosed them.

What happened? It couldn't have all just been a terrible nightmare, could it?

Blinking in awe, he was suddenly aware he was on the floor, still cradling Maia. No, if it was indeed a nightmare, then why wasn't he in his bed? Why wasn't she in hers? He didn't want to move or let go of her, for fear that they were still on the island, and he had retreated inside his own head as a last refuge, dreaming of a better place to ease him gently into his own grave.

He forced himself to steady his breathing and focus. Had they somehow teleported away? Impossible. Without the assistance of -

"Gol?"

Gol's gaze dropped to see his sister's half-lidded eyes looking back up at him.

"Maia!" he exclaimed, crushing her against his chest in a tight hug. Her eyes widened and she let out a squeak of pain. He immediately loosened his hold, looking down at her stomach with a frown. "Sorry."

For the moment, it didn't matter how they had escaped. He needed to deal with her bleeding first and foremost. The Dark Eco infection needed to be treated as well, before it causes any serious harm.

A grunt escaped his lips as he finally stood, scooping Maia up. The floorboards creaked under him as he staggered into their bedroom. Through their only window, the late afternoon light poured in, painting the room in deep orange hues. Outside, he could faintly hear villagers milling about in the valley below.

Maia seemed too distracted to care about what Gol was doing. Her eyes darted around the room, a crease forming between her brows.

"I'll return with some Green Eco," Gol said, carefully placing her down on her bed. He then grabbed her hands and secured them over her stomach, applying some force as he did. It would slow the bleeding, but the Dark Eco within her would not be so easily stayed. Extracting the Eco from her would be too dangerous, as it would risk tearing her insides apart. It had to be neutralised with Green Eco.

When he went to straighten up, she grabbed him by the collar. "How… how did we..?"

"I don't know," he replied softly.

She let go of him and winced. Her hands found their way back to her stomach.

He raced out of the room to find some Green Eco. As a Sage of a somewhat unpredictable substance, he'd have been a fool not to have some of its counteractant nearby in the event of an experiment gone wrong. Thankfully, he had some spare, stored in a canister amongst the absent empties.

While he prepped the Eco, he stared with a sinking heart at the slew of torn skin beneath her fingers.

This was all his fault.

xxx

Many thoughts pursued Gol into the night. The only one that didn't completely eat away at him, however, was the thought of teleporting again.

How had he done it?

He tried in vain to focus on that sole thought as he watched over Maia's sleeping form. Bars of moonlight came in through the window, highlighting the steady rise and fall of her chest. With each movement, barely audible breaths escaped her lips. It was a comforting sight, as the past couple of hours had been spent fighting blackened veins that threatened to creep up into her heart. The infection had finally been eradicated after multiple Green Eco treatments, and now, here Gol sat, victorious, but without any more Eco to treat himself. It was a worthwhile sacrifice.

His eyes burned and his body ached, but he had no urge to move from her bedside. He'd stay here and take care of her forever if that was what needed to be done. She was all he had, after all. Not even the earliest of memories could tell him otherwise. There were no memories of their parents, and no memories of a caregiver or a guardian. People entered and left their lives - more frequently now than back when they were younger - but when he boiled it down, it was just the two of them, left to fend for themselves. It was just the two of them against the world.

Groggily, he finally removed his kidney belt. Green Eco or not, he still had to deal with his own wounds. Shrugging off his coat, he examined first the grazes, then the bone-shaped bruise across his abdomen. He felt along his broad back for the puncture wounds, and his hands met with a sticky wetness. It would make quite the addition to the collection of burn scars that peppered his arms. But what was a bruise and three little puncture marks compared to the large scar that would be forever embedded in Maia's stomach? A scar to go with the stains. Perhaps it would remind her that stains weren't so bad. For him, however, it would be a constant reminder of an image that would haunt him for the rest of his life: her spilling out ribbons of crimson.

xxx

Sewing up the holes in his jacket didn't keep away the invading thoughts, but at least it kept him physically occupied. When there was nothing left to be done, he noticed how unfocused the room was to him. How long had he been awake for? He glanced over to Maia, still fast asleep. A moment's rest wouldn't do him any harm. If she needed him, she'd wake him.

Gol slumped lower on the chair, kicking his legs out and crossing his arms. He let the slow rhythm of his breathing lead him into sleep.

When he opened his eyes, darkness surrounded him, until it didn't. Somehow, it had lightened to a grey, and thickened. With its newly gained volume, it swirled aimlessly in front of Gol, just like…

Fog.

Where was he..?

A wet crunching came from somewhere ahead, carried by the breeze that stirred the fog. Gol stood still, listening intently. What in Precursor's name was that? Then, he heard something that made his blood curdle. Slurping. He tried to put distance between himself and whatever foul thing was happening from behind the cover of grey, but found that his legs were like thin tree trunks, rooted and trembling. Looking down, Gol realised his predicament: he was waist deep in mud.

The drum of his heart picked up. No… He couldn't be back here… He couldn't. They'd escaped, didn't they..?

The brown sludge was creeping, moving at an incredible pace. From the point at which he'd discovered he was in mud to now, it had already reached his chest. He'd be swallowing it soon enough. Before he could even begin to dwell on that, however, the fog in front of him dropped like a sheet. At the edge of the mud pit, he spotted a body slumped on its side. A hand dangled, just grazing the brown surface below.

It was Maia.

Through crimson strands of hair that were caked across her face, he could see her eyes - wide, pleading, staring at him. No, they hadn't escaped. He'd failed her.

He noticed that her body was jerking violently. A shadow stooped low over her, and with dawning horror, he realised it was feasting.

Gol opened his mouth to scream, but the mud muzzled him as it gushed down into his throat.

The shadow looked up; its blazing yellow eyes swallowed him whole.

Gol's eyes flew open, and he almost stumbled off of his chair. His heart was close to bursting out of his chest as he tried to control his erratic breathing. Whipping his head to the side, he found Maia's form underneath the blankets of her bed. They were home. They were safe.

A steady breath was allowed to pass his chattering teeth. The rise and fall of Maia's chest had shallowed somewhat, but her eyes remained closed. Had he woken her with his outburst? He wiped away the pinheads of sweat across his forehead and watched her for a moment. When he was sure she was still asleep, he sighed, and collected himself.

So sleep wasn't an option. Of course it wasn't. There had to be a price to pay for narrowly avoiding death. He knew it wasn't the last time he'd see that… that thing. A shudder went down his spine as its shape took hold in his mind's eye once more. He had to keep occupying himself - no, distracting himself so he wouldn't have to see that again. Looking around the room, there wasn't really much else to do. No chores needed to be done. Recreational time didn't appeal to him either. He'd read every book in the hut three times now.

The answer came easily enough; it was the one thing that was his saving grace in all this: their escape from Misty Island. If he focused all of his efforts in finding out how they did it, then maybe then he'd be allowed to rest peacefully.

With that decided, Gol leaned down to plant a soft kiss on Maia's forehead. He hovered, studying her calm features. To ward off the bitter aftertaste of the dream, he committed it to memory, then left the bedroom.

Dawn was nearing. With the windows and open doorway lighting the way, he made out three metal canisters in the far corner of the main room. He strode over and snatched up the one that was filled with Dark Eco. Then, kneeling down with both hands over the opened lid, he closed his eyes and willed the Eco to flow into him. As usual, the process dragged. He figured he had to absorb a lot more of it to compensate for the cluster's diluted nature and to account for his body's slow ejection of it. There had to be a way to keep it in his body… Gol shook his head. That was a problem for later. Right now, all effort had to be poured into this one act. If he could recreate his escape, then perhaps there was a slight chance he could forgive himself for not being a better Sage and protecting Maia… a very slight chance.

The canister was half empty when Gol pulled away. He rested his hands on his thighs and let his mind race. His theory was that he had to clearly picture where he needed to be. The Eco - that was now gradually leaving him - would take care of the rest. That's what had happened on Misty Island. At least, that's what he remembered.

Gol sucked in a deep breath and pictured the small bedroom. He then mentally placed himself at Maia's bedside. That's where he needed to be right now. The image drifted through his mind for what seemed like an age, and yet, silence still permeated. Gol forced his sleep-laden eyes open. To his dismay, the main room greeted him.

Where was that thunderous crack? Or was that not part of the teleportation process? Had he not absorbed enough Eco? On Misty Island, he couldn't recall how much he'd actually taken. Regardless, this was by far the most Eco he had ever dared to absorb. It should have been enough. Was he not picturing the room correctly? Was fidelity a factor in this? No, it couldn't be that either. Being somewhat of a recluse, he knew the room inside and out. So what was it? As much as it pained him to do so, he replayed the events of Misty Island in his mind. The only difference that he could identify was that he was not in any immediate danger right now. Surely that wasn't it? How would that even be determined? What level of danger was appropriate enough to unlock the ability? No, maybe it really was the amount of Eco he'd absorbed…

Gol made a noise somewhere between a groan and a cry.

What was the point of all this? He couldn't even channel Dark Eco properly! What chance was there in the stars aligning again?

Rubbing his eyes, he went to stand. In his periphery, a shadow darted across the floor. Gol spun around. The abruptness of his movement sent him into a dizzy spell, and he stumbled over his own feet. Landing hard on his backside, he could see more shadows appear. They danced around him. One snaked its way across the ceiling. Peeling away from the wooden boards, the shadow drooped down like wumpbee wax. Elongated blobs merged together as they twirled, until a discernible shape materialised just above Gol's frozen form. Orbs of yellow blinked mere inches from his face.

It was that thing from his dreams.

Images cascaded in its wake: Maia's widened eyes, the jerking of her body…

Maia! What if the shadows were swarming her in the bedroom as well? What if they were some form of undocumented Lurker? She was alone and bedridden…

Defenceless.

No, not again. He had to get to her before -

A thunderous crack exploded in his ears. It was as if ice itself coursed through his veins. Every molecule of his being vibrated as a cloudy column of purple engulfed him, piercing through the shadowy figure directly above until there was nothing left. Then, the column dropped.

Gol felt his jaw drop.

He was in the bedroom.

Keeping his elation at bay for the moment, he peered around. The dark corners of the room were still.

His body visibly loosened. Thank the Precursors.

A dull ringing - an aftershock of the explosion - almost concealed his name being called. He turned to the source.

Maia was slouched against the bedhead, mouth agape and clutching her stomach.

xxx

Food. He needed food. His rumbling stomach was a reminder that he hadn't eaten since departing for Misty Island. Maia hadn't either. So when the village came to life at the break of dawn, Gol hurried down to the fisherman's stall. As he went, Gol was acutely aware that he was being watched. The feeling was overwhelming, but he reminded himself that these watchful eyes weren't yellow. These eyes also didn't accompany rotting gums and teeth seeking flesh to tear into.

A weary smile formed on his lips. The villagers were probably gawking at his haggard appearance again.

From the fisherman's wary glance as Gol approached, he gathered the word 'haggard' was a severe understatement. Before he could make any mention of it, the fisherman took a step back. "You best be moving on now," he said with a quiver in his voice. "That travelling merchant told us what you tried to do to his boy."

Gol stopped dead in his tracks. "I beg your pardon?"

"You tried to kidnap that poor boy," a smaller voice chimed in. Gol twisted around to see an old lady emerge from behind the stall.

"What? That's absurd!" Gol exclaimed. A pair of villagers gravitated towards the unfolding scene.

"Then why was he alone in your hut?"

"The boy's father said your intent was to hurt him."

Gol scoffed, addressing the newcomers. "That's not true! My intentions were innocent. I only wanted to -"

"How can you speak of innocence when you dabble in that evil Eco?"

"It's not evil!" Gol countered.

"We're getting fed up with all this shady business, Acheron."

"And that woman you call a sister? What of her? Where is she? Plotting something I presume."

"Please, there's been a terrible misunderstanding," Gol said. His hands raised in a calming gesture, but the tremble that ran through them suggested anything but.

"Misunderstanding!?"

"Look at him! That's the look of a guilty man."

Murmurs morphed into cries as more people gathered around. Their normally cautious looks were now twisted with anger. But regardless of how riled up they were, Gol still was given a wide berth.

They were still wary of him.

This was the last thing he needed right now.

Before the haze that was his mind could fully process what he was doing, a flicker of Dark Eco danced across his open palm. It was brief, but it was enough. Silence fell, punctuated by a couple of gasps. The villagers stirred, and Gol spied a gap forming. With the river in his sights, he ran for it. As he slipped past, he muttered a quick apology.

Keeping to the bank, his feet barely touched the soft earth as he barrelled towards the hut. When he neared the cave, he stopped. Maia sat with a hunch on the ledge, cradling her stomach and letting her legs dangle in the air. She wore a loose, long tunic, and her welder's goggles were absent, allowing her untied hair to fall unencumbered around her face. Never had she gone without her goggles, or her midriff threads for that matter. What perturbed Gol the most, however, were her eyes. They were always focused; nothing escaped her sights. Well, now nothing except for him.

She didn't even appear to notice his approach.

"Maia?" he called. No reply. He started again, this time keeping a more brisk pace while scaling up the rocky pathway to not rouse any alarm. When he came up to her right side, she almost jumped out of her own skin.

"Are you alright?" Gol asked, steadying his breathing and throwing a look down at the river. "Why are you out here and not in bed resting?"

Blinking, a familiar frown accompanied her sullen features. She angled her head slightly toward him, deliberate in keeping the left side of her face out of view.

"I've had enough rest," Maia grumbled.

Movement below caught the twins' attention. A couple of the villagers had emerged from behind a nearby hut. As soon as they'd come under Maia's gaze however, they froze. She scowled, watching them scramble. A question then began to form on her lips as she gave Gol her full attention, but the words never came to fruition. Gol had dropped to his knees, hands reaching to brush away the hair from her face. With a growl, she swatted him away.

"Let me see," Gol pleaded to her. From behind a lock of hair, a faded purple blotch peeked out. The bruise should have disappeared by now. Surely he'd used enough Green Eco…

"Just leave it. It will go on its own."

Gol grimaced; there wasn't any more Eco to spare. He cursed inwardly. Now he'd have to see Samos again. But what to say to him? He reached out again. "Maia, if it's not healed properly -"

"Enough!" She deflected his hand and drew her legs back in to stand. Knowing her, she'd find some place to hide out, and then they'd be back to not seeing each other during the day. Before Misty Island, it didn't seem to bother him too much. Having her around while he did consultations for the villagers was painful at best. But now… The idea of them being apart for so long was ludicrous. He also couldn't have her wandering through the village while its residents were still riled up.

It wouldn't end well… for them.

Sighing, Gol grabbed Maia's shoulder, stopping her ascent. "Fine," he said evenly as he stood. "Let me know if you need anything. I'll be inside." As he went to walk, he added: "Tell me if you see any more villagers heading our way."

He didn't wait for a reply, and made his way to the main room. If she wanted him out of her hair, then he supposed he'd better get a move on. Glancing back through the doorway, a pang hit his chest. Her face was buried in her hands.

xxx

The days seemed to bleed into one another. After the recreation of teleportation, time had rather lost most of its meaning for Gol. Distance was measured with time, and time gauged from the celestial bodies in the skies above. For instance, from sunrise to sunset was how long it took to get from Steephead Village to Volcanic Crater by foot. Utilising the teleporter gates that were maintained by the Sages significantly reduced this time. But travellers were anchored around those fixed points. They still had to travel to and from them in order to get to their destinations. What Gol had accomplished destroyed any notion of that. Distance was now completely irrelevant, and by extension, so was time.

And it was all thanks to Dark Eco.

What else was possible with it? Dozens of new ideas and experiments had somehow filtered into his weary mind, but how could he pursue any of them when their Dark Eco supply was limited? It would entail weeks of searching the mainland before they happened upon even a slither again. On the other hand… there was the place that had almost wiped out the last of the Acheron bloodline. The place that caused him grief whenever he closed his eyes. If he wanted the Eco solely for those experiments and ideas, then he'd happily stick with the agonising search.

But he didn't. For the first time in his life, the pursuit of knowledge wasn't the force that drove him. His mind was made up; he would travel back to that horrid place, and he would get his hands on that Eco, because he needed it like he needed air to breathe. Strength was to be gained, not knowledge. With such an amount of Eco, he could become more than the pathetic Sage he was. Most importantly, he could finally have the means to keep Maia safe.

Gol carried himself over to the doorway, knowing he would find Maia sitting out on the ledge of their little cave. Reluctantly, he'd explained to her the situation with the merchant and his young boy, and the villagers' subsequent reaction to it, when she was comfortable enough with his company again. She hardly batted an eye at his troubling words. After that, most of her time was spent out by the cave entrance. But whether it was her way of keeping watch or sulking remained to be determined.

His heavy footfalls alerted her to his presence, but her gaze remained fixed to the village below. He never thought he'd admit it, but over the past couple of days, he missed hearing her talk - even if it was mostly teasing and snark. He longed for her to irritate him about something - just to know that there was still life in that shell of hers. Dare he say it, but it felt like she truly did die on Misty Island. He supposed that he did as well, being foolish enough to threaten the villagers after their collective show of bravado. What was he even thinking? Nothing. He wasn't thinking at all, he reminded himself. Now, he was nothing but a spectre amongst the village. The two of them were both ghosts, but it seemed that only one of them was still hungry.

Gol swallowed thickly, then cleared his throat. "I'm going back to Misty Island."

Maia straightened up.

"And I'm going alone," he added quickly. "I need that -"

On her feet and already halfway towards him, Gol's jaw clamped shut. He found himself backpedalling to the hut. When he wanted to see life returned to her, this was not what he had in mind. She lunged before he could reach safety, managing to grab fistfuls of his jacket.

After a moment, she found her voice. "Tell me you're not serious, brother?"

"I am."

Her grip loosened. "Just let it go."

Let it go? He would have burst out laughing had the situation not been so dire. On top of all this moping about, he couldn't see a future where Maia wasn't outside that Precursor citadel, bleary-eyed as she continued her fruitless search for a door. A door! She needed to take her own advice.

"I can't… That Eco will make me stronger."

Maia's eyes searched his as she thought for a moment. Sometimes she was like one of the books on their shelf. He could tell she was coming to a decision all from the way her mouth set – and it would be a decision that he wouldn't like.

Her hands finally fell from his jacket. "Fine then. I'm coming with you. No distractions this time."

Eyes like empty plates. Crimson puddles lapping at pale skin. A dark figure looming over her -

"Don't be absurd. I'm not letting you near that island ever again," said Gol with a wave of his hand.

Maia gritted her teeth, voice dropping dangerously low. "Since when do you get to decide what I can and can't do?"

"Since when you almost..." Gol shook his head. "This is something I must do alone."

He backed away from her and went over to what was left of the canisters.

"On that island, you couldn't even hold a single wisp of Dark Eco in your palms." Gol deflated at her words, but kept walking. "You said it yourself: you're weak. So what makes you think you can survive there on your own?" Maia chuckled darkly. "You wouldn't last a second without me, because you're useless. Completely and utterly useless. You always have been - and you're supposed to be the Sage of Dark Eco! Maybe -"

The rest of the sentence died in her mouth. Her glaring eyes extinguished when Gol turned back around. There was a tremble in his lower lip.

She was right, of course. A Sage was one that had mastered their respective Eco, and Gol knew deep down that he was no Sage. He was indeed useless. But he would change all of that upon returning with the concentrated Eco.

Gol crouched down. A fire burned within him as the need to leave only grew stronger. He grabbed the last canister of Dark Eco.

Tentative footsteps started up.

"Don't even think about it," Gol managed through his tightening throat. The footsteps stopped. If she tried to latch onto him when he teleported…

With unsteady hands, he unscrewed the lid. Maia hovered nearby silently, watching as he absorbed the last of their Dark Eco supply.

Gol closed his eyes. Hopefully, it was enough.

No creak of floorboards followed. He could still feel her gaze on him.

Good.

He tried to ease his restless mind. His focus had to be on those puddles of liquid Dark Eco by the water, and nothing else. He imagined that pulling sensation again, as if it was the only thing keeping him afloat in a sea of turmoil.

The familiar crackling rang in his ears, and he opened his eyes to see the barren island form lazily around him. His mouth parted in disbelief; it was surprisingly a lot easier this time. His elation fell away, however, when beady, yellow eyes flashed in his mind. Gol peered around, frozen to the spot, examining every nook and cranny for any sign of those dreaded monsters. They had snuck up effortlessly last time, after all.

He then cast his gaze downward, where the puddles of Eco waited. But something in his periphery made his heart drop. There, still moored to a rock jutting out of the water, was the boat they had arrived on, along with the numerous empty canisters they'd brought. The poor fisherman who had lent it to them would certainly be wondering what had happened. How many days had it been now?

Gol grimaced; it would be unkind not to return the boat after he was finished here.

xxx

With nothing but the flickering flame of a candle to provide light, Gol carefully poured out the concentrated Dark Eco into a thin metal tube. It sizzled as it hit the surface. Once it was filled a quarter of the way, Gol stopped and sealed the canister. On his desk laid a leather glove that stretched up to the elbow. Two large loops were sewn in: one at the wrist and one just before the crook of the elbow. With great care, Gol threaded the tube into the loops. When he'd put the glove on, the tube would run along the outer part of his forearm. A thin clear tube was then attached to the wrist-end of the metal tube, and threaded through smaller holes along the glove until it poked up at the elbow. A tube that was shorter, but otherwise identical, was fixed to the other end of the metal tube. Needles dangled from the free ends of both of these clear tubes.

Slipping it on his right hand and tightening the buckles, he tested the weight. Only a slight tug on his shoulder. Irritable, but manageable. He'd get used to it… eventually.

Now for the difficult part.

He had to ready his upper arm for insertion. The two clear tubes would act as transferrers: one to send Eco directly into his veins where it would be more cleanly absorbed, and the other to provide an easy excretion point via his artery. By collecting and reusing the rejected Eco, there would be a constant flow of Eco running through him. It would only be a small amount, but if his body became accustomed to it – and he truly hoped it did – then he would increase the dosage gradually.

Shallow breaths could only be taken. If he took any deeper of a breath, he might miss or damage his vein.

The tiny flame of the candle started to dance erratically, casting fleeting streaks of light over the workbench. Gol groaned. The lighting certainly wasn't ideal for what he was doing. At all. But this couldn't wait until morning. When the candle settled, he rested his right arm on the bench, and positioned the needle over a vein in his bicep.

As the sharp end neared skin, a hand latched onto his wrist, stopping its descent. He almost dropped the needle.

"What are you doing?" Maia asked. Her voice was steady, but her eyes had betrayed her panic.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"What. Are. You. Doing?" she repeated, now in a low hiss.

So that's how it was going to be. "What does it look like?"

"It looks," Maia began, staring into his bloodshot eyes, "like you're going to hurt yourself."

"There may be pain at first," Gol replied, gently grasping her wrist with his gloved hand, "but this device will prove to be a much more efficient way of channelling Eco."

Her eyes cut between the glove and the needle she had stopped. "By forcing it into your body? Are you sure all that lack of sleep and teleporting hasn't muddled your brain?"

Of course she'd be bitter about his newly learned ability. All she could do was watch with growing irritation as he teleported back and forth between Misty Island and their hut. He still hadn't taught her how to do it yet.

Gol gave a more forceful tug at her wrist, but it didn't budge. "It's not 'forcing' it."

He dove into an explanation of how the device worked, and her glare gradually faded away. When he finished, she loosened her grip, and allowed Gol to remove her hand from his wrist. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes," he said, a little too quickly.

Maia waited until Gol let go of the needle, before letting her shoulders relax. She leaned against the table, and a couple of silent minutes passed between them.

"It's a little flimsy. I think I'll pass on having one of my own," she finally said, feigning a look of disgust, then shifting to that smirk he hadn't seen in quite a while. The comment was a dig at his craftsmanship, but it still made his heart leap.

Gol snorted, concentrating on taking off the glove in order to hide his smile. "Why would you need one?"

"Gol?"

He looked up and met soft eyes.

"I… I'm sorry for what I said earlier. About you being weak and useless. It was cruel, and I didn't mean it." She rubbed her arms. "I - I was just… angry at what happened to us. At how helpless we were."

Confusion spread across Gol's features, but not because of the apology. He'd received many short but sincere apologies from her over the years, but opening up to him never followed. She was always the tight-lipped one whenever feelings became involved, and preferred to just sit and stew until it was forgotten.

"It's okay. You have every right to be angry."

"But not at you."

He snatched up her hands and shook them. "Yes, at me. I couldn't help you when you needed me to." His voice broke as he forced the words out. "I couldn't even protect you! What kind of brother am I if I can't protect my own sister?"

"So far, we've been doing well enough with me looking after the both of us. You don't need to fret over nothing," she reassured him, then pushed off the bench, breaking contact.

"It's not 'nothing'." He stood up and followed her as she made her way to the bedroom. "What happened to us on Misty Island is bound to repeat itself, and next time we won't be so fortunate."

Maia sighed, pausing at the door.

"So I need to consume more Eco," Gol continued, balling his fists. "I need to become stronger - for both our sakes."

"We both need to be stronger," Maia said, and was rewarded with a flabbergasted look from Gol. "But for now, what I think what you really need is rest. I'll find a safer way of inserting those tubes into your arm tomorrow."

With that, she opened the door and beckoned for him to follow her into the dark room.

Gol glanced at the window. It was well into the early hours of the morning now. Even though he had time at his whim, it still managed to escape him. Staying up was becoming a bad habit, but it was preferable to the alternative…

"Whenever I close my eyes, I see fog… and shadows," he began. Maia's brows raised slightly. "They twist into monsters, and you're there, and they…"

He couldn't bring himself to finish that trail of thought.

Maia brought a hand to the side of her face and unconsciously rubbed her faded bruise. "We can move the beds together - just like when we were children," she said. "Will that help at all?"

Gol looked at her, then at the shadows that stretched across the floor.

"Come on." She gestured again.

He went back to his table to blow out the candle, then let her lead the way into the dark.