"Learn how to see. Realize that everything connects to everything else."
~ Leonardo Da Vinci
The letters were crabbed and rushed, written in faded ink that alternated between black and gray. The gradient shift of the ink seemed to make the words appear as if they were dying the longer the note went on. Fitting, for as far as Luno knew it was the last note written by Miranda before she succumbed to the lake once again.
Ian suggested I write out my thoughts to keep sane. He doesn't – no one understand that I'm not making it up – I did meet a woman standing on the pier across the lake; she's real, not a dream! That poor woman is lost to "the land of rot."
Even though she scared me, she seemed very lonely. She's searching for something that she's lost, but she can't remember what it is anymore, I think. The way she talked was hard to understand, but I believe I'm starting to figure it out.
If only her voice would leave my head and these images that plague me. She keeps whispering to me over and over, warning me to never fall asleep again or I'll end up like her – fractured.
Miranda
It was silent when Luno finished. Garry rubbed his face, trying to let the contents of the note sink in. While he couldn't make sense of this woman Miranda saw at the pier, he had a feeling it played into the "count down" Luno had mentioned. On the other hand, as he listened to Luno read he couldn't deny that Miranda sounded a bit crazy.
At the same time, Garry couldn't help but wonder if Miranda's note was just a part of this "break down" Luno mentioned. Would Ib also experience these seemingly auditory and visual hallucinations like Miranda probably had? The very thought of it made a pit swell inside of his stomach, but he tried to calm down by assuring himself that Luno had read through most of the journals already. There had to be a solution—they just had to piece it together.
"Not to alarm anyone, but this is likely what's going to happen to Ib after she wakes up. I'm sure you all picked up on Miranda's instability; however, what I really wanted to draw attention to is the first piece of the puzzle we need to solve in order to save Ib and get out of here—the woman at the pier." Luno sat down across from the three and put the book at the center so that they could see the page.
"Okay, so Miranda thought she saw some lady at the pier?" Amelia indicated for him to explain the significance of the woman.
"No, it's not that she thinks she saw this woman, it's about what no one else saw." Luno clarified. "Think about it for a moment. Why did no one else but Miranda see her or why didn't this woman join up with Miranda to escape?"
It clicked in Garry's mind, "Because only Miranda could see her. Luno, you insinuated that she died in the lake like Ib and was rescued. D-Do you mean to tell me that Miranda saw this woman while she was dead?"
"Exactly," Luno stated resolutely, his eyes and tone even and serious. "Miranda's succumbing to the lake after this is verified in another note, but there is another entry that I want to show you before it that not only contains more details of what happened to those who came back from the lake but is the second clue to the puzzle –"
"Luno, if you already knew all this from reading these beforehand, are you not just wasting time when you already know of a solution?" Soaru cut in, but his words contained no bite.
"Whoa, harsh, Soaru," Amelia stage whispered non-too-quietly to him.
Soaru didn't meet her gaze, choosing instead to stare at the corner of the book's page and give a half-hearted shrug in response.
"No, I see what he means." Luno took up for him. "To answer you, I have some theories but I thought it would be better to present all the information before discussing them so that we're all on the same page and can work towards a better solution."
"That's how we make just about all huge decisions when we're together as a group," Amelia said, finally satisfied when Soaru met her eyes for once, but he didn't smile back. She wanted to desperately ask him what was wrong, because she knew it wasn't just the whole situation they were in that was causing him to avoid eye-contact with them, but knew it would have to wait.
"Back on topic, the first piece of the puzzle is this mysterious woman that only Miranda could see for the duration of her death submerged in the lake, do I have that right?" Garry asked, bringing everyone back on task.
Luno confirmed that he was right, prompting Garry to continue, "Then I think another part of the puzzle would be the warning she gives Miranda, that she'd become 'fractured' like her if she fell asleep. Don't you find it strange that this woman is written as someone who's lost but caring, warning Miranda, instead of being portrayed as the one driving Miranda to insanity?"
"Huh, you're right. I never thought of it like that." Amelia said before reanalyzing the note. "You can tell that Miranda doesn't want her in her head, but she isn't written as someone bad or dangerous, just sad."
"Amelia, Garry, do you both remember Allen's letter I showed you at the inn?" They nodded. "This is the Miranda that he was looking for. She, like Ib, was saved from the lake, but it's the aftereffects that worry me and she isn't the only reported case of this happening to."
"The voices and hallucinations are what you meant by 'break down' I assume?" Soaru asked. Luno nodded, "Yes, those who come back from The Lake of Sleep successfully have been documented as having auditory and visual hallucinations along with remembering their time in this land of rot. However, the woman standing on the pier and whispering to them, and looking for something she's lost, I believe, are things that they really experience, and that it's a clue to saving them from returning to the lake."
"Why do they see this woman though and does it hold any merit?" Soaru asked.
"The next passage would better explain that," Luno stated then flipped to an earlier page in the journal.
To those of you who become trapped within this forsaken place in the future,
Time is of no consequence here, though the setting may be the Nivis Alba of the past, it is only a limbo waiting to be mended. She created this fragment for Cycloptic Smile, likely in the hope that the painting could be made whole again.
I do not believe anything can be done for those whom have been devoured, but there is hope of saving all of them from their suffering – making Cycloptic Smile whole. I know not what will happen if she is complete, but it all begins at the lake.
The lake itself is dried up in the present but, as this is far back in time, it still exists within this period. However, the lake is perverted here with a black substance with the same consistency as petroleum and also just as flammable. Out of all the oddities of this space, the lake is the strangest in that it does not contain oil lamps or creatures. Despite the lack of light, the area is visible and the black water reflects nothing.
It is at that lake where Matthew and I found my brother, Arata, and Florence.
They were dead. Their skin white, chapped lips a blue hue, and coated in that black substance. The lake had consumed them and taken them from me.
Florence wasn't as gone as my brother, she could have been saved, but I begged Matthew to try and save Arata instead. He gave in and treated him first. Once the rose was sewn back together the water dissipated from his body, but Arata wasn't alive. After an excruciating amount of time, Matthew managed to revive him through CPR.
Florence was next, but it was already too late. I had discarded her chances at living because I didn't want to lose my brother. I didn't know how I would tell Claire, but I had been selfishly thankful that Arata had survived.
We found a cottage, the very cottage I write in now, to regroup and care for Arata. It was in this very building that I came across the answers that were too late to save us. Everything is connected to this cottage, the origin of Vita from the Legend of Nivis Alba.
If you are unawares, then I shall break your illusion that the Legend is a mere folk tale. It has been perverted through the years, but the fact is Vita was and continues to be real. She lived in this cottage with her father and his creations.
It's within those pages that I found reason to believe that Cycloptic Smile is unwholesome, that she is missing something. I believe it also connects as to why Claire reacted so aggressively to Cycloptic Smile the longer she looked into her eye. It's likely to do with Vita's original intent behind the whole painting that was corrupted after it fractured into Cycloptic Smile but, if that is true, I came to wonder if the painting just didn't fracture into only Cycloptic Smile, but another painting as well.
If I could find this other painting, the missing half, and make Cycloptic Smile whole again, I had believed that we all could return home.
While Arata recovered, Matthew and I researched. We found one log written by a "Hal," who was searching for his friend, Anna. They were thrown into this world as well, but Anna wasn't like him (or us) – she didn't have a rose from the beginning. She had been a victim of circumstance. This world became far more dangerous for her because the half-rose she was cursed with couldn't be repaired.
Hal's documents of his findings and thoughts were most helpful. He went further into this "eye" he often referenced and found the "truth of the creatures," as he called it. Though he never clearly stated it, I believe I have come to understand what he had meant. However, it only dawned on me once it was too late.
In one of his reports, Hal mentions that he had found proof that there had been others before him – the research Journal of Warren and Ethel. He recounted that their research and discoveries had furthered his own and once, in his final log, noted that those two had found how to escape and the truth of everything.
We've searched for Warren and Ethel's journal, but have never found it.
The last thing I want to recount for you is the truth of what happened.
When Arata awoke he was stuck on a woman who he had met in the forest who had saved him. I told him that it wasn't real, that he had been dead, and that it must have been just a dream. He kept insisting it hadn't been and even told me that Florence had been there and would back him up. When I told him she had died, he seemed to crumple.
Arata seemed to become distant after that. He often recited phrases that he swore were being whispered to him. We had falsely chalked it up to being his way of coping with what happened. I made the mistake of leaving him alone at the cottage to search for Claire with Matthew.
I believe that the Truth Hal found at the center of the "eye" is the same one I saw for myself. We had decided to scour the forest for Claire, which is where we found the museum. It was too modern to be from this era and far enough out of the way that it didn't seem to belong with the village.
There, at the steps was Cycloptic Smile and Claire. She was attacking the painting and we jumped in to help her. The fight itself is a blur to me now, but I remember being pushed. Matthew and Claire had somehow gotten Cycloptic Smile on the ground in the meantime, which is when everything went wrong.
I couldn't see what was going on, but Matthew and Claire started screaming. I will always remember the way Claire screamed at me to run away, the guttural screams, and Cycloptic Smile covering her face.
They had become the monsters that we'd killed. The Truth Hal must have seen was this, that humans are those monsters that keep apologizing and begging not to be seen. Though I don't understand why they say these things, I don't have time to dwell.
When I arrived at the cottage Arata was gone. I found him standing on the pier, staring up at the starless expanse. Without looking at me he said:
"I know why the lake reflects nothing. While she stood on this pier, she was being painted back onto her canvas. She went deep, deep down into the water and fell asleep." He had looked down at the water then, "The surface of the water won't ever reflect because she's lost and can't find her way back."
"Her body is in the lake, but in a tight spot that's dark and hard."
I told him that we would find her, that we would get out, and that we should go back. He only told me that his borrowed time was up, that he wasn't strong enough on his own to survive, and that he was only afraid because this time he knew what would happen once he fell asleep.
Arata, my baby brother, succumbed to the lake.
Reuniting both halves of the painting is the only way out, but I don't know for sure. What I do know is that, had we listened to him sooner, my brother may have survived.
Please, if your friend has fallen into that lake then you must act quickly. If the painting can be made whole then maybe, just maybe, that friend will survive. I will leave this at the village entrance with the hope that it will be of use someday. Please, find the lost one in the lake. I should try to do it myself, but I've come to accept my fate.
I can no longer return.
-Hana Sasada
"That's…a lot of information to swallow." Amelia hesitated, rubbing the burn on her right forearm in remembrance of all the monsters, no, people she and Garry had lit on fire back at the bridge. Garry quietly reached over and gently grabbed her hand, stopping her. She took in his downcast eyes and slumped shoulders that carried the same weight of knowing what they had done. Luno kept himself composed though, he too was just as guilty. Before he had read Hana Sasada's entry, he had also broken a lantern and killed what he now knew to be people.
Ignorance was as good an excuse as any. The trio hadn't known that what they were doing would cause the fires that killed those people, they could even believe that those monsters were no longer people at all, but it didn't alleviate the guilt they felt.
"Are we inferring that those who die in the lake are haunted by this mysterious woman, who may actually be the other half to Cycloptic Smile?" Soaru broke the tense moment, unknowingly reminding the other three that they had more pressing matters to attend to than their own guilt.
"I think it's not a haunting in the typical sense," Amelia let go of Garry's hand to sit up straighter. "Those who fall into the lake see this woman in this land of rot, which sounds an awful lot like purgatory, and…what Luno?"
The blond closed his mouth, but stood up and began to pace back and forth with his arms crossed. "Purgatory is probably closer to the truth. Hana mentioned that She created this fragment of time, a limbo if you will. This land of rot is likely a form of limbo. Think about it, these people who fall into the lake die but where do they go, assuming souls and the like are real, where can they go?"
He whipped around to face them, "Purgatory, the land of rot, where those who have died are gathered because they can't move on."
"But this woman may be a painting so how would that work? Would she even have a soul?" Soaru pointed out; perplexed by the strange turn the discussion had taken. Since when did the question of whether or not souls exist play an important role in escaping?
"We all know the story of Nivis Alba, correct?" Luno asked before continuing right along. "Whatever Vita's father painted became a painting, instilling life within his daughter. Hana mentions here," he indicated to the passage, "about Vita's original intent behind the whole painting. Assuming that Vita could use the life instilled within her, she must have created the actual painting behind Cycloptic Smile and its other half—the real painting, and may have even been powerful enough to create a soul for it, for her."
Garry pointed toward one of the passages himself, tapping his finger against the book once. "Building off that, Arata's words to his sister say body and that she was being painted back onto her canvas. As Luno said, when Vita's father paints, whatever is being painted becomes an actual painting. If Vita's creation needed to be repainted again, then wouldn't that mean she had a solid form?"
"We seem to be inferring quite a bit here." Soaru sighed, unsure if they would ever be able to find all the answers they sought. "Let's just keep this simple. Those who die in the lake encounter a woman, who is searching for something. This something is likely her other half, as indicated that Cycloptic Smile is unwholesome and may have fractured into two from an original painting created by Vita. Those brought back from the lake are on a time limit to unite the paintings and/or escape before they die again. While this Warren and Ethel are said to have found out a way to escape, it is not known how without their journal, but Sasada has written that combining the two paintings could be the key to leaving this place. Additionally, the museum is where we'll likely need to go when we're ready."
"That is an impressive summary," Luno nodded, almost sheepish that he was getting too preoccupied with the finer details. "Keeping it simple might be the best way to stay on task."
"Okay, so now that we have the outline of the puzzle complete, we need to decide our next step." Amelia smiled at Soaru before turning her head back to the group, happy to have a clear direction to go in. "Personally, I think we need to find this painting first."
The three males nodded in acknowledgment. Finding the missing painting would allow them to mobilize more quickly in the event that Cycloptic Smile came looking for them at the cottage or in the event that they could eliminate a more time consuming event before if not only a bit after Ib woke up.
"But we can't just focus on finding the painting, that would leave Ib alone and it wouldn't be efficient. Navigating the lake water is a two man job, but we also need someone to watch Ib and for someone to start analyzing some of these notes." Luno picked the journal up from the floor and slightly waved it. "Soaru mentioned to me earlier that he's been to the museum, so we could have him try and indicate its location on a map, even if only the general area."
"Mark the entries and give them to Garry, he'll stay here, while we go back to the lake." Amelia looked through the journals and papers Luno had accumulated and pulled out the map Luno had shown her and Garry back at the inn, a journal, and a pen. Ignoring Garry's protests, she started jotting down key clues to the painting's whereabouts from Hana's entry and simply said, "Garry, shut up. It's obvious that you're the best choice to stay here and protect Ib."
Garry didn't like being given the easier task. He knew how straining it was physically to row through the lake and it didn't sit well that he was essentially being asked to sit this one out.
Amelia didn't bat an eye when she stated, "we both know how grueling it was rowing earlier. While I may be the strongest physically, you're quicker on your feet. We can't afford to have both of us exhausted, especially if something goes wrong. I need Luno for his muscle and brain, along with Soaru, who we also need to start writing down anything he remembers about the path he took to the museum. This map doesn't cover the lake area, but the back is clear enough for notes."
She closed the journal. "Garry, if anything were to happen while we were gone, I have no doubt that you would be able to protect both yourself and Ib. You're fast on your feet and I know you're strong, but, mostly, I just want the first person Ib sees to be you."
His mouth opened a little without his consent, air flowing past his teeth in one small airy gasp that only he heard. He stared at Amelia's face when she turned, tan skin glowing but the smile that usually split her face was small and prettier than normal, serene but confident. It crossed Garry's mind that Amelia's expression was something he'd never thought she could do. He had seen her solemn and teary, panicked and puzzled, smiling and boisterous, but this was something he couldn't quite place. Garry could have laughed, it almost sounded like she was the hostile mother-in-law that was finally allowing him to marry her daughter or, at the least, it seemed like an acknowledgement that she knew about his revelation on some level. Whatever it was, Garry was sure that even Luno was surprised.
He cast a small glance at Luno and nodded to himself, yup, even Luno was caught off guard.
Amelia, thinking Garry nodded his consent to stay, moved to grab the baseball bat. "Alright, now that that's decided, let's gear up and go!"
Luno picked up his jaw and ran a hand through his hair while looking slightly sheepish. "Y-Yeah, let me just set up Garry with some of these entries to read."
"So, you and Amelia…" Garry trailed off, his voice low enough for only Luno to hear. He knew from the moment Ib made the excuse to leave the two alone at the festival that something had to be up. Ib wasn't dense with things like that.
"Are you okay?" Garry worriedly asked when Luno nearly dropped the journal.
"Who, me? Yeah, I mean, it's not obvious, right? Like you and Ib obvious?" Garry gave his friend a strange look when the blond let out a small, airy laugh. "Uh, not sure what you're implying, but we can talk about you and Amelia after we get out of all this…now probably isn't the best time."
"I suppose not, especially since there is nothing going on between us." Garry only nodded, attaching a "uh-huh" as Luno was noticeably flustered. The blond took a few deep breaths and continued to dog-tag an entry before handing the journal to Garry.
When Luno turned to face Amelia and Soaru he was composed. He picked up the claw hammer and called back, "Try to see if any of them can tell us about Warren and Ethel's journal or how to unite this mysterious painting with Cycloptic Smile. You probably shouldn't wander too far from the cottage if you need to go outside for more firewood or something else. If something happens, there's another baseball bat and you know where to find us."
Garry mocked saluted. "If you need help, you know where I am. Be careful."
When he heard the front door close, Garry turned to the journal in his hands and opened one of the dog-eared pages. He had his own work to do.
The crackling of the logs as they burned filled the room, but Garry barely noticed. He had gone over Hana Sasada's entry again and noticed a few sections that stuck out to him in particular. The first was about how Claire had acted aggressively toward Cycloptic Smile the longer she looked into her eye and how it probably had something to do with Vita's intent behind the original painting. If this painting did split into that woman in the land of rot and Cycloptic Smile, and the one was looking for her missing half (the thing she had lost but couldn't remember), was the painting that attacked them also missing something?
His mouth dipped into a confused frown, unsure if the one-eyed painting was really missing something. Surely, her other half was missing, but only the one without a solid form seemed to be looking. Cycloptic Smile more or less just seemed to not want anyone to look at her, and the longer anyone looks the more aggressive and deadly things became.
His tapping fingers paused just above the page, an idea starting to take form. Earlier, it had become apparent that his fear and anger were directly correlated with how long he stared at Cycloptic Smile, including Amelia's aggression that Claire apparently shared to some degree. However, when he and Luno had blocked the painting from Amelia's view the effect lessened, but what did the painting gain by provoking Amelia's bloodlust?
Matthew and Claire had turned into monsters and the painting hid her face, was there a connection? What about what the monsters keep repeating, the apologies that they didn't mean to look—
'Wait, if Cyloptic Smile heightened our aggression the longer we stared at her and this Truth of the Monsters that Hana saw was only in the presence of Cycloptic Smile…then does she gain a means of defeating us? Maybe, but she's strong enough on her own. It also doesn't explain the monsters' apologies for looking at her. Unless there's something about her that she doesn't want us to see,' Garry gripped the journal tighter, his fingers fidgeting at the upper right corner. 'Perhaps what she's missing is something physical in addition to her other half, but she had all her fingers and limbs from what I remember of that walking nightmare. She does only have one eye, but I'm not sure if that's intentional or not.'
Garry tried to recall if the painting had a second eye-socket, but could only remember that she had a lot of hair on the left side of her face and that her single eye was pretty big. He shivered in the heat of the fire as he remembered the painting in full again, "Great, more nightmares."
The tall lavenderette stood up and stretched before rifling through some of the items that Luno left behind before coming across a pen. After hunkering back down, Garry ripped out a blank sheet of paper from the back of the journal and wrote: Cycloptic Smile increases aggression for unknown reasons and may turn people into the monsters, perhaps as a result of seeing something she's physically missing? Does she have a left eye? Note: Very strong. Don't stare.
The next peculiar passage was "it is only a limbo waiting to be mended. She created this fragment for Cycloptic Smile, likely in the hope that the painting could be made whole again." Disregarding souls and the like, it suddenly dawned on him that reuniting the paintings to make them whole again was likely the best option for escaping. If She, Vita or whoever, made that space for Cycloptic Smile to be made whole, then wouldn't it end if that purpose was fulfilled? Garry nodded to himself before moving onto the next passage.
Soaru was in the greatest danger out of all of them. He wasn't an original Alice, so he likely had a half-rose that couldn't be repaired if he was critically injured. Garry reasoned that with the growing excitement and flurry of conversation earlier it likely hadn't dawned on the others yet that Soaru would need to be extremely careful in any potentially dangerous situations that could arise. He added 'Soaru. Half-rose. Tell others to watch out for him; could die if not careful.'
Garry flipped to another dog-tagged page and began to read the short note, the frown on his face etching deeper into his face by the end.
Though we started off with four, only I am left now.
Ian stared too long into the abyss and became one of those monsters.
Miranda succumbed to the lake again.
Allen died from his injuries after handing me some book.
He told me he found it inside the museum and then he told me to keep it safe,
And that this book was guaranteed to break the chain for those who'd be here in the future.
Due to the importance of this book, I can say that it's right around the cottage but I'll leave its location like this:
"What does a snake do with its skin?"
Pray that you all make it out alive. Being the only one left is lonely.
-Eren
The sigh escaped him before he could reel it in, but, seriously, all the entries had been depressing thus far. People were dying or being turned into monsters, though that probably was its own kind of death. The only shred of hope for these people that he had was thanks to Hana's note that uniting the paintings would likely free all those who were "devoured."
Garry reread the part about Ian and thickly underlined Don't stare in his notes before refocusing on the mysterious book the note mentioned. He vaguely wondered if it could be Warren and Ethel's journal, but not even Hana was able to find it. However, that could also depend on who arrived first. While not a pleasant thought, Garry knew that he would be doing himself a favour if he made a timeline. It wouldn't even be too difficult. Warren and Ethel were obviously the first documented people, Hal and Anna likely came next thanks to Hana's entry that detailed how Hal had based much on his theories off Warren and Ethel's research journal, but Hana's group likely came next. While it was possible that Miranda, Allen, Ian, and Eren came before Hana, the girl had made no note of them in her entry. Additionally, wouldn't Hana have mentioned the book being hidden via riddle rather than write that they couldn't find it? Garry didn't fully know where Luno got the journal from, but he doubted Hana came after Miranda. As a bonus, the journal pages were likely in order, so there was always that.
Garry rolled his eyes at his own musings and refocused on the clue Eren left about the location of the mysterious book from the museum, which seemed like the end of the road. They would reunite the painting or something and then go back to Nivis Alba…Garry didn't dare add that they would only go back to prepare for the next battle. From the note, it seemed like the book was pretty close by.
He cast a glance over to the fireplace and reasoned that he needed to grab some more firewood. The ten logs Soaru and Luno had collectively brought in were almost gone. He paused, looking at Ib's sleeping face and was torn. In no way did he want to leave Ib alone, but he also just wanted to grab some more kindle and take a quick peek around. Garry reasoned he could always see if the house had a set of keys and lock the doors.
Getting to his feet, Garry looked around the room fruitlessly before slipping into the hallway. Keeping an ear out for any noise, he got all the way to the kitchen but still didn't have any luck. He gazed out into the yard, specifically at the woodshed before realization dawned on him. He hesitated at the screen door. There was no way the answer to the riddle was shed, as in the woodshed. That would be too easy.
The grass crunched under his sandals. Garry reasoned that it wouldn't hurt to check and, even if he was wrong, no one was around to see it. Time was metaphorically ticking, though, so the trip would have to be a quick one.
The woodshed was low and covered by a small thatched roof overrun by ivy. 'If I were hiding a book in a shed on a short amount of time, where would I put it?' Garry pondered as his eyes swept over the contents of the shed, 'Likely far in the back or between a few logs.'
On his knees, Garry stretched his right arm into the back of the shed while steadying himself with his other hand on the roof. The sensation of chopped, rugged wood against his face was certainly not welcome, even more so when he pressed himself harder against the lumber to reach further down the back.
Just as he was going to give up his pinky finger gently brushed against something cold but flat and thin—paper.
The woodchips chaffing against Garry's face didn't feel so painful anymore as he fervently groped for the paper, withdrawing to pull out some of the lumber for easier access, and finally pulled out a leather bound journal. It looked very old with extensive wear and tear. The paper itself was yellowed from age, crinkled and splattered with what looked to Garry like water marks. The writing was rather neat, though, in dutiful cursive that he almost had a hard time reading. Though damaged and missing some information the inside cover, in the same impeccable cursive, read:
Folklore Research Journal XXX: The Legend of Nivis Alba
Head Researcher, Warren Fau-
Assistant, Ethel C-
Garry closed the book and jumped up in excitement. There was no way he was going to look a gift horse in the mouth, nope. Finding the journal was a blessing and he needed to get back and look through it straightaway. Grabbing an armful of lumber, he hurried back into the cottage.
After chucking a few logs into the pit, he settled down on the floor and reopened the journal. The excitement coursing through his body nearly caused him to drop the book due to his shaking. Trying to calm himself down again, he folded his legs and propped the journals against them. Looking at the cover and first page, Garry noticed something he hadn't before—words were damaged and scribbled out, as if something or someone didn't want anyone to read them. Anxiety starting at the back of his throat, he leafed through the pages.
His eyes widened in shock and a small, airy sound close to a hiss left his mouth the further he perused the pages. Aside from the normal wear and fading, pages were scribbled out and some were just gone altogether—ripped remains the only trace of their existence. Garry cursed under his breath in exasperation. What was he going to do now? Gritting his teeth, he flipped towards the last half of the book. 'Information about their escape from here would be more towards the back.'
Opening to the last entry, Garry breathed a sigh of relief—it was undamaged, for the most part. The water marks were more prominent and it struck him as odd. The droplets had smudged the ink in various places instead of just being a part of the paper aging itself. Suspicion crept through him and was confirmed when he realized that, unlike the other entries he had leafed through, the handwriting was different. The cursive was still impeccable, but it looked a bit more rushed with the letters slanting right and the cramped paragraphs.
Day: Unknown
Warren, I cannot begin to apologize to you or tell you all that I want to say for it would take hours, perhaps even days to communicate. There is so much that I wish to convey to you, but time is now finite and mine has come to an end.
Pausing in his reading, Garry briefly flipped back to the inside cover and realized it was Ethel who was writing. He recalled Eren's last entry and swallowed, the same feeling of sadness starting at the back of his head. If Ethel was writing, what had happened to Warren? Did he die and this was Ethel's final…Garry shook his head. Hana's entry had mentioned that these two had found a way out of this nightmare, so that would mean they were still alive to see it through…he hoped.
Though you may never read this, I want you to know that I have always loved you dearly. I have been your friend and assistant for so long that I can no longer recall a time when you were not in my life. Warren, I am sorrier than you can ever imagine that I forced you to investigate this legend. Had I not been so stubborn and simply listened to you then none of this would have happened, but the voice tells me that I am mistaken.
We were fated to be the first.
Do you remember the voice on the twelfth day, not Ida's but the other? It speaks to me now and has offered a solution. You will not like it. I have been your partner for years, which is why I dare not tell you until I know you shall be too late to stop me. We are unable to take on Cycloptic Smile, Warren.
We did well in discovering that Cycloptic Smile was originally a whole painting that was created by Vita and, as a by-product, became human. The toll of creating life was too much a strain on Vita and she fell ill. Her father, using his ability to take the life of an actual living thing by painting it, saved his daughter by repainting her creation. However, the original's human body perished in the lake before the whole transfer, which caused a split in the painting: Cycloptic Smile and -. While the latter is trapped in the lake with her body, searching for herself, Cycloptic Smile is free to roam and defies the rules of the Gallery due to the limbo her original body is in. The effect Cycloptic Smile had on us is a perverse form of her original character, and that she is missing a piece of her that she is self-conscious of.
Despite her openly staring at others, the painting only hates being stared out when what she lacks is seen, which triggers her ability to create monsters out of humans. When not seen, she encourages others to stare in order to manipulate their resentment and anger to her advantage—seeing what she lacks. While I found it contradictory, you pointed out the attraction and repulsion Cycloptic Smile must feel. To be afraid of having her deformity seen while also wanting it to be seen is the pitiful cycle she finds herself subjected to.
The voice has proven that we are unable to fight against her and win—we cannot reach the other painting. While we know of her body in the lake, we are unable to locate it in a timely fashion. Cycloptic Smile will come for us before then, Warren. The spools of thread are gone, meaning we can only run or our deaths shall be permanent. Time is a luxury we simply do not have.
The Guardian, as it called itself, is in need of a human body for the future harbingers that will put an end to everything. Your dream of Vita, her appearance forgettable, telling you her name isn't real is true—her name will be decided centuries from now.
While I know you shall try to stop me, I have decided to take the deal: my body and soul in exchange for your escape.
I am sorry, but at least you finally got your Year Walk…
It may be selfish of me, but I love you and my only regret is that I did not tell you sooner.
Goodbye.
Neither the suffocating heat in his face nor the flat pit sound of thick droplets against the page had torn Garry away from the line. He kept rereading that line, Goodbye over and over with the reality slowly sinking in despite how he already subconsciously understood that her Goodbye truly and definitely meant forever.
His gray eyes remained on the page. How had things become like this? He had known it was likely going to be sad, but not that sad. The question of whether or not Warren ever got to read Ethel's confession popped into his head uninvited. Did it matter? In the grand scheme of things, was Warren reading Ethel's final words important enough to have an effect…Garry admittedly didn't know, but he desperately wanted to believe it had. Call him a sap or a hopeless romantic, but things like this really got to him, in part because if he were to die at that very moment what regrets would he have—not telling his sister he loved her, not making an impression on the world, not living long enough, not confessing to the person he liked—and it honestly scared him.
Garry cried harder, realizing he had tons of things he would regret not doing if he died. Did Ethel feel the same? Was her life, reduced to a mere decision of choosing between their deaths or just hers, full of regrets ranging from things like not telling her family she loved them one last time to not eating at a new cake shop? The fear she must have felt, knowing she would surely die, and the pain of knowing she couldn't do anything about it. The sacrifice Ethel made to make sure Warren lived was so beautiful, but so tragic. It was too tragic. If Warren did read her entry, Garry couldn't begin to imagine the emotions he must have felt, but he could imagine the man running regardless of reciprocating her feelings. He would run and run while desperately hoping against the odds that he wasn't too late—
Arms wrapped around his shoulders in an embrace and warmth emitted from the face pressed against his shoulder. A soft hand crossed over to gently wipe away a salty streak on his right cheek. "Don't cry, Garry" it was soft and silvery, slightly accented from sleep, and Garry leaned into the warmth of her palm.
Gently cupping the hand on his face, Garry turned his head a fraction to look down into her ruby coloured eyes. The left side of her face was pressed into his shoulder, but she was looking up at him, which brought a smile to the corners of his mouth.
"I won't, now that you're back." Her brow creased in confusion before relaxing. They didn't speak until Ib turned her eyes to the journal.
"Was it…sad?" Ib asked. Garry gave a faint nod in response. He removed his hand from hers and she moved the appendage back to his shoulder. Content in the affection and worry, Garry didn't point it out. Though the countdown was on, he just wanted to relish in the moment for a little longer.
"Soaru's alright, shaken, but he's with Amelia and Luno right now down at the lake. We're trying to find the other half of Cycloptic Smile in order to reunite the paintings so we can escape…we have a decent idea on what to do after, but we're on borrowed time now…" His words caught in his throat, not wanting to say anything about her state before waking up. "We, uh, found you in the lake and…are you in any pain? Do you feel unwell or sick?"
Ib shook her head. "There's a slight throbbing—" Garry reached to stop her from touching the stitches but was too late. Feeling the grooves and thread, Ib traced the wound with her index finger before resting on the chaise lounge.
She subtly swallowed, but due to their close proximity Garry clearly heard it.
"…Did I die?"
Garry looked down at the page, his eyes catching Goodbye, again when he choked out "yes."
"Oh."
Silence permeated the room.
Garry didn't want to explain that Luno's fixing of her rose hadn't been enough or that Amelia had to administer CPR. They knew the reality of how dead Ib had been and it scared them, but Ib didn't need to know the scope yet if at all. The last thing Garry ever wanted to do was scare her. He almost kept it to himself, but wondered if he was doing the right thing by keeping it from her. If it were him, would he want to know?
"You were dead…dead. Luno fixed the rose and Amelia administered CPR but…it took a while for you to breathe…" Garry looked over at her and regretted his decision to not keep it to himself.
Fat tears poured from her ducts and her bottom lip trembled. Her arms unwound from Garry and she wiped at her face in an attempt to stop herself just before a sob broke free. Instinctively, Garry pulled Ib into his lap and gently pressed her face into his chest while his other hand was around her waist. "Shhh, it's okay, you're alive, we're all alive." He whispered in what he hoped was soothing. He repeated it a few more times, running a hand through her hair.
The knuckle white grip on his yukata relaxed, the hot tears on his collar bone stopped falling, and Ib's sobs slowed into sniffles. "I'm sorry," Her voice caught when she hiccupped. She peeked up at him, ashamed for turning into a mess but, most of all, for dying.
"It wasn't your fault." His voice was firm. "You're alive, and that's what matters most."
Ib nodded into his chest.
They stayed like that for a minute as Ib collected herself. Thinking rationally, she should get caught up on the important things that had happened while she was…unconscious and help Garry in whatever he was doing. The book he'd cried into earlier was pressed against the bottom of her thigh—surely a good place to start.
"Garry, please bring me up to date on what's happened." The lavenderette nodded, not bothering to argue with her about resting when she looked so serious.
"Do you remember anything from the time you…out?" Both avoided using the word dead.
"Yes, the painting you mentioned in the lake, do you mean Smile?" Garry gave her a puzzled look. "Who?"
"She's lost in the land of rot, looking for what she has not." Garry did not like the sudden faraway look Ib got in her eyes when she talked about her. "Because she couldn't remember her own name, I called her Smile. She never once stopped smiling, either, not even when she tried to take my eyes…huh, Smile and Cycloptic Smile have the whole smiling thing in common."
"Wait, what?" Garry screeched as he grabbed onto her shoulders and stared more intently at her face to make sure she wasn't missing anything.
"Ah, don't worry, we're friends now." Her smile put him a little more at ease, but he still wasn't so certain. "Really?"
"Yes," Ib nodded. "I've always hated my eyes and she's always hated her empty eye socket. Though forceful, Smile helped me to realize that I shouldn't take them for granted…" It was almost awkward to talk about how much she used to hate her eye colour now. It seemed so trivial, though Ib knew a lot of it was a complex built off others' avoidance of her. Ib nodded to herself, she would just have to be more confident in herself and understand that not everyone would be so accepting.
"I think she…saved me."
"I…don't really understand, but she's not a bad person if she helped you." Garry smiled at her. "When they find her painting in the lake, we'll figure a way to reunite the paintings into the one Vita originally created, and then get out of here. Oh, you wouldn't know, but there were others before us—a number of them, actually. Luno has a number of journals from those who were stuck here that gave us clues on how to get out of here. I found the research journal of Warren and Ethel out by the shed thanks to one of the entries. These two were the first ones ever here and managed to find an alternative escape route."
His voice died down and became somber. "I thought I could find out what it was, just in case we needed a Plan B, but…most of the pages are damaged and things are crossed out. The last page…their escape was a onetime thing and…"
Ib picked up the journal, still open to the page, and read through it. It made sense why Garry was so upset earlier and Ib wondered if Ethel was in limbo like she had been. Had she been one of the lights in the water in the land of rot? She shivered and turned back to the journal when she read something that shocked her.
Ib flipped the page, not wanting to see it anymore, but pasted onto the back cover was indisputable proof of what she feared—a photograph of Warren and Ethel.
Though younger in the monochrome photo, Ib would recognize the woman with her small eyes and signature hair-bun anywhere. Turning to the last page again, Ib reread the last two lines:
Goodbye.
-Ethel Creo
As she opened her mouth to tell Garry about what she had discovered, the distinct sound of a door being slammed opened thundered throughout the cottage. The pounding of footfalls had the two tense and nervous for whatever or whoever was about to turn the corner. Garry held tighter to Ib protectively, briefly sweeping the room for alternative escape routes.
"Pack up, we gotta go!" Amelia's voice entered the room before she did. Hair fell into her face and she visibly looked panicked. "Sorry to interrupt snuggle time, but we have to go now."
The two bolted up from the floor. After a few steps Ib's legs gave out on her and she fell back onto the chaise lounge. "Ib!" Garry and Amelia called, hurrying to make sure she was alright.
Though thankful for their worry, Ib couldn't help feeling bad. "I'm okay; I just got up too fast."
Amelia mirrored Garry's worried frown. Without saying anything, Garry quickly shoved the journal into the bag with Ib's yukata and handed it off to Amelia, who stuffed a few other items into it, before walking back over to Ib.
"Are you able to stand?"
She stood up and took a few steps and then a few quicker steps before nodding. Garry and Amelia shared another informative look, uncertain if Ib was truly up to running or just pushing herself. "Ib," Amelia started as they all headed towards the backdoor where Soaru and Luno were waiting for them. "If you get tired or can't run anymore, promise me you'll tell one of us—we can't lose you again."
Ib briefly looked away, guilty that she had been caught, before looking at both of them and resolutely said, "I will." She did not want to trouble them anymore than she had and, if it meant admitting when she felt weak, would do it if only to put them at ease, "I promise."
*Omakes*
1. Angelic Smile
(After seeing Amelia smiling)
Garry about Luno: If he wasn't in deep before, he definitely is now.
Soaru: He's got it bad.
2. Oblivious
"So, you and Amelia…" Garry trailed off. He knew from the moment Ib made the excuse to leave the two alone at the festival that something had to be up. Ib wasn't dense with things like that.
*Amelia and Luno and angels burst into tears at the irony, even Soaru cries though he doesn't know why*
3. Garry Pop Culture References 2.0
(When Amelia busts open the door and tells Ib & Garry they have to leave)
Garry: Gotta go fast
Amelia: Did you jus-NEVER MIND WE GOTTA GO
Voice in the background chimes: FAST
*Trivia: Soaru is a character I found myself truly appreciating this chapter. He focuses on the bigger picture, how to get out, rather than sweating the tiny details in tough situations.
Yeah, so the whole trying to update multiple times a month didn't pan out. The first half of this chapter was finished soon after my last update and I was going to post it, but I thought it was too short (last chapter was shorter than the chapters I've been putting out for this arc). I'm rather disappointed in myself about not updating, but it's my own fault for not realizing that I'm a shit updater and for not knowing my own limit. That being said, I am going to try and have the next chapter out really soon since I plan to have it be the lastchapter dedicated to this arc.
While part of me is relieved that this arc is coming to a close, I'm so nervous about the next one because I'm not exactly sold on what I want to do with it just yet. I have a couple more characters that are going to finally be introduced outside of being briefly mentioned or featured back in the group scenes when everyone was chill with each other.