Twenty-Six || Identity

When they broke, Rue headed back to the inn and Mint decided to kill time at the tavern. It was still only early afternoon, so not many patrons would be there, but she was feeling a sense of triumph and wanted to share it with anybody who would listen.

"What are you telling them in there?" Rue asked. He was genuinely curious; Mint wasn't foolish enough to crow about how they were about to dig up a Relic, and he wondered what sort of narrative she had been spinning to dance around it.

"My marvelous adventures," she said. "Tales of my stunning power. And courage. And intelligence. But that all goes without saying." She paused. "Your name comes up sometimes, I guess."

"You have a new story for them?"

"All about how I thoroughly humiliated Duke. Or he thoroughly humiliated himself. They aren't mutually exclusive." She tilted her head. "You know, you should come by."

"I've been. I was there not an hour ago."

"I mean when there are people. They're curious about you, too." She frowned at him, but her eyes were still smiling. "Especially about you, actually. You keep yourself cooped up at the inn so much people are starting to think you're mysterious."

Rue betrayed a laugh. "Do they?" But he considered the statement. "Maybe I will," he said finally. "Elena was right. When we get the Relic, I won't be staying here much longer."

"Neither of us will," Mint said. Suddenly she brightened up. "We'll have a party!"

"A– wait, sorry, I missed something."

"Tomorrow night," Mint said. "We'll have a victory celebration. Klaus should just about have the amulet done by then, it'll be perfect timing. We'll round up the town and have a toast to my great accomplishments. And whatever it is you've been doing." She gestured to the alley that led back to the tavern. "We'll say its in honor of Klaus' research, they'll go for that. I could use a last hurrah before I need to start planning to take over the world."

Rue stared at her. That was a little more than he had bargained for; he wasn't much for crowds. Offering to go into the tavern at all was more than he had really anticipated, and to change it into some kind of event was too much for his tastes.

"We'll see," he said.

"No, the answer is yes," she said. "You need to loosen up a little. We earned a party. We deserve a party."

"We'll see," he repeated.

"Bah."

She turned and disappeared down the alley. Rue made his way back to the inn. He needed a little time to cool down; he'd already had a terribly long day, and a bit of rest wouldn't go awry.

When he got to his room he scrawled a few sentences in his book, then set it aside and lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Slowly, exhaustion tugged at his limbs. He let his eyes close and his thoughts wander.

It was actually within his grasp. The next day, or the day after, they would have Valen's Relic. And finally, finally, after so long he could finish what he had started, finish what he had to do, what he had to–

What he–

What do I have to do?

"I've been looking for you, Rue. Come with me."

It was dark and cold but white, so white, snow white, and he was scared, because there was something familiar there, he knew this man, but he couldn't place it and he didn't want to, he wanted him to leave, he had abandoned those thoughts years ago for a reason. The man was unarmed, but Rue knew he was dangerous, and he wasn't going to take any chances, so he struck before the man could move, and something–

–his arm–

–like claws, like blades–

–and suddenly everything was white and frigid and he was damp and bleeding and the man could kill him in an instant but he wouldn't, and Rue knew that, but he didn't understand why, he just knew that he couldn't lose this fight or he would be gone and there would be no more Claire no more stability no more ignorance no more Claire no more Claire no more–

What do I have to do?

–scarlet and snow–

What do I have to do?

Why did I come here?

I have to–

A sharp rapping against the door jolted him awake.

He was on a bed, lying askew, covers thrown aside. His breathing was heavy, he was damp with sweat, and for a panicked moment he didn't recognize where he was or why it wasn't winter, and where was the cabin, and he had to calm down. Calm down. Just dreams.

Cartha's Inn. Carona.

He glanced out the window and squinted. The shadows of the town were growing long; dusk was approaching.

Somebody knocked on his door again.

"J-just a minute," he called, and threw himself out of bed. He was still fully clothed, okay, one thing taken care of. He checked the bandana to make sure it was still sitting properly on his forehead, smoothed out his clothes and hair, and roughly tossed the bed back together. When he and the room were almost presentable again, he turned his attention to the door and pulled it open.

"Oh, Elena," he said, almost breathless. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Sorry," she said. "Is this a bad time? You look tired."

He felt it, too.

He shook his head.

"It's fine," he said. "I had a long day, I was trying to get some rest."

"Oh," she said, her voice dropping slightly. "Do you... do you want to get back to that?"

Again, he shook his head.

"It wasn't working out," he said. "What's up?"

"Well," Elena said, "I came back, and Prima's all better, and he's way better than all better and we got to talking and it turns out he's never been outside before. Ever." Her expression turned surprisingly dark. "Literally ever."

The statement caught Rue by surprise. When he thought back on it, of course it made sense – Prima had been sealed in the cube, and even when he had been un-sealed he would have been in Elroy's underground atelier, well away from the outside – but the realization was jarring.

"That's right," he said slowly. "I guess he wouldn't have had an opportunity..."

"So anyway," Elena said, chipper again, "he was saying he wanted to go see the lake ruins, and I like the lake, so we were gonna have a picnic out there again. Everybody." Rue was slow in processing what she meant, and Elena could plainly see that; she hastily added, "I mean, me and Mom and Dad. Prima really wants to see the actual ruins, and Dad said he wanted to take another look at them, too. And I figured, maybe you n' Mint wanted to see them? I-I mean, I know you guys are gonna go out to them in a coupla a days, that's what Dad said, but maybe you wanted to have a look beforehand?"

He managed a faint smile. "I'm sorry, Elena, I–"

He cut himself off. He was tired, he wanted to sleep, but if sleep was going to plague him with those kinds of nightmares...

"Actually, no, I'll come. Give me a bit to fix myself up."

Elena's smile lit up. "Thank you!" she said, and hugged him. "Prima will appreciate it too, I'm sure of it!" She let him go and raced down the hallway. "I'll see you soon! I have to go find Mint!"

"Try the tavern!" he yelled after her, and she disappeared down the stairs. When she was definitely gone, he exhaled and leaned heavily against the door frame, rubbing his forehead with his palm. Now that he was thinking about it, he was thankful for the interruption. He didn't want to dwell on that dream any longer.

. .

The excursion out the lake was pleasant as it could be; autumnal breeze was finally falling on the island, kept mild and pleasant by the sea, and the walk through the forest was gentle and cool. They had to move at a reduced pace because of Klaus' leg, but Rue wasn't in much of a hurry, and even Mint seemed to be enjoying the lackadaisical walk through the trees. Then again, she had apparently had a bizarre day, too; she might not have been as ragged as Rue felt, but it hadn't been an easy morning.

Their lack of energy was more than made up for by Elena and Prima. Prima had taken to the forest almost instantly, weaving through shadow and sunlight and marveling at every new thing he found, and Elena had taken to Prima just as quickly. While the procession of their elders made a lazy pace through the forest, Elena decided to dart back and forth, into the forest or across the path, Prima hot on her heels while she chattered about everything around them.

It was good that she did. Prima had been gifted with plenty of theoretical and practical knowledge about the outside world, but when he was actually exposed to it his long isolation became apparent. Trees and flowers, the scent of crushed grass and pine, even the warmth of sunlight and the chill of the breeze left him in awe. Seeing Prima's expression with every new experience, every new conversation, with every new bit of life that passed before him– his wonder was infectious.

"He's good for her," Mira said. "There aren't too many kids in Carona."

"Kinda weird, though," Mint said.

"Is it?"

"He's an animated object that we found in a box," she said. When Rue and Klaus shot her a look, she waved them off. "No, no, that's not– well, that's exactly what I meant. Just..." She gestured to them. "If you'd told me a week ago I was going to be instrumental in bringing life to a small mechanical child, I wouldn't have believed it. And even if I had, this is not what I would have expected."

"The last few days have been intense," Klaus said. "I can't thank you enough–"

"You've thanked us enough," Mint said. "You can stop thanking us."

He smiled. "If you insist."

The trees around them were starting to thin, and the incline ahead opened up. Not long after, the group crested the rise overlooking the bowl of the lake. The ruins of Old Carona stood golden in the sunlight. The lake, as ever, was still.

"The far side," Klaus said. "We'll set up at the base of the bridge." He was carrying himself with a little more energy now that they were in sight of the ruins again. "I haven't been out to the altar in– oh, it's been years. I'd like to have another look at it."

Nobody raised an objection, and the little procession started to make their way around the rim of the bowl, around to Old Carona. Rue felt a brief sense of apprehension, but reminded himself that the inhabitants of Yordaf's cathedral had never tried to chase them back out to the lake, even though by the end of their excursion they were easy targets. They were probably bound to it and its catacombs.

After a few minutes of walking in relative silence, Prima spoke up. "That's it?" he asked. "The altar?"

Klaus nodded. "Just out there," he said, and pointed further up ahead. "There's a stone bridge we can cross to get to the altar, just–" He stopped speaking suddenly, then sighed heavily. His hand fell back to his side. "Of all the damned luck."

"What's wrong?"

Rue could see what it was. "There's a shattered section," he said. "Maybe... two-thirds of the way to the altar. Stone's sunk."

Prima went rigid. "You mean we can't get to it?"

"No," Klaus grumbled. "No, you can get to it just fine, it's a little tricky is all. I won't be able to get there."

"What?" Prima looked at him. "Why can't you–"

"His leg," Mira said.

"O-oh." Prima looked away. "So, um, what do we...?"

Klaus waved his hand. "Don't worry about it," he said. "You can have a look around without me." He smiled. "I guess that means I'll miss the unveiling of the Relic, too."

"Given the crazy magic we're doing to pop this thing open," Mint said, "you'll probably see the fireworks from the lakeside, easy. You won't miss too much."

He rubbed his chin. "Not a bad idea."

"It's one of mine," Mint said. "Of course it isn't."

Soon enough, they reached the opposite side of the lake. Elena and Mira busied themselves with the food preparation. Klaus looked longing down the stone path, but nodded to Rue and Mint. The two of them, Prima in tow, set out across the stone path. It was a fairly long quiet, and quiet; none of them spoke until after they had reached the shattered part of the path, where Rue and Mint made their way nimbly across the few remaining bits of stone and helped Prima cross the way over. They were almost at the entrance to the altar when Mint spoke up.

"This is kinda weird, too," she said. "We've been sitting right next to this thing for days and never bothered to have a look at it."

"We haven't been able to do anything about it," Rue said. "And we've been... busy."

"Still can't do anything about it."

He shrugged. "Prima wanted to see it."

"Why?"

Mint turned her attention squarely on Prima, waiting for an answer. Prima, however, seemed oblivious to her stare, his gaze slightly unfocused. Mint raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, kid," she said. "Talkin' to you."

Prima gave a little start. "What? Sorry. What is it?"

"Why'd you want to come out here to see this?" she asked. "When that amulet's done we'll be here for real and you'll see it then. Why the rush?"

"Hm." He mulled over the question. "I guess it's just... I..."

Suddenly he stopped. Rue stopped almost immediately when Prima did; Mint took a few more paces before she realized they were both still. She turned to look at them, hands clasped behind her back. "Yeah?"

He clenched his fists, bit his lip, stared at the ground. Rue knelt down next to him and placed his hand on Prima's shoulder. The little doll was shivering. "What's wrong?"

"Don't put me back in the cube."

Rue blinked, confounded, and looked up to Mint. She shook her head and shrugged, and he quickly turned his attention back to Prima. "We aren't going to... why would you think that?"

"'Cuz this is it," Prima said. "This is what Elroy made me for, this is what I'm supposed to do. When the seal is broken, I don't really– what comes after that? You guys– I'm so thankful for what you did, I really am, but I know you only brought me back so I could do this." She drew in a deep, shaking breath. "Even Father– even Elroy sealed me back in the box when he didn't need me anymore."

Mint blinked, moved to speak, failed to find the words and snapped her mouth shut. Rue remained silent and let him go on.

"Right?" Prima asked quietly. "You just need me for this thing, this one thing, and after that I'm useless. Back in the cube." His voice fell to a whisper. "I don't want to go back in the cube. It's... dark."

"Well, it's a box," Mint said lamely.

"I mean everything's dark. I know what it's like right now, to think and feel and be, but then going back in the cube that all just– stops. And I know that there's something missing, I know how it's supposed to be, but I can't do anything about it. I can't even care, even though I know I should, and then when I'm me again I can remember all these things and how it was and then when everything's over I go back to being that way and I'm scared. I don't want to be like that." He wrapped his arms around himself. "I want to live."

He fell silent. It was a few more seconds before Rue finally spoke.

"Why do you think that'll happen?"

"Father– Father said it before he sealed me for the last time. He thought I couldn't hear him. I heard him. 'Just a doll.' I have a function to fulfill. After that–"

Mint smacked him over the head.

Prima yelped and clutched his head where she had hit him. Rue immediately leapt to his feet, all tension and anger. "Mint, what the hell are you–"

"Knocking some sense into him!" she shouted, drowning out the rest of his question. He hesitated, then relaxed slightly, although she still shot him a venomous glare. With Rue calmed back down, she looked to Prima. "You've been conscious for less than twelve hours and you're already freaking out about life? How stupid are you?"

Slowly, Prima looked up. He was still rubbing his head, but his body language had changed completely, giving way to palpable confusion. "Wh-what?"

Mint threw her hand out, indicating the shoreline. "I said, how stupid are you? You think Klaus is gonna shove you in a box just 'cuz we're done here? You think Elena would let him? That girl loves you– she nearly had a breakdown this morning when you ran out of energy. As long as that family's in charge of you, you're stuck out here, like it or not."

Rue stared at her.

Prima did, too, although his expression had less open disbelief. "But– but even Elroy–"

"Elroy was a terrible person," Mint said flatly. "Even says it in history books. Grand Magician Elroy: certified, historical asshole. Don't even think about him."

Prima opened his mouth to speak.

"Actually, I... think she's right," Rue added.

Prima stared at both of them.

"Completely right," Rue continued. "They won't get rid of you just because you did what Elroy made you for. I've worked with Doctor Adler for a few months now, I know him. He won't hurt you like that. He won't let anybody hurt you like that."

"But... but then what comes next?"

Rue shrugged. "Who can say? You'll have to figure it out for yourself." Prima looked at him quizzically, and Rue gave him a soft smile. "The rest of us do, too." He crouched again, meeting Prima's eye level. "It doesn't matter what Elroy made you for. You're alive. And as long as you're alive, there's always a chance. There's always hope."

Prima ran his hand under his eyes. "Th-thanks," he said, his voice a little thick. He looked up again, golden eyes meeting Rue's hazel-brown, and without another word he launched forward and hugged him. Rue was briefly caught by surprise, but returned the gesture, holding Prima for a few seconds until Prima let go.

Mint snorted. "Pouring on the sap, are you?"

Rue looked over to her, then back to Prima. "Her, too."

"Hey, woah, wait–"

She couldn't protest fast enough. Prima caught her, too, his arms wrapped around her waist. Mint leaned her upper body back, her face a mask of overwrought horror, and shot Rue a dirty glare.

"Thanks, buddy," she growled.

"You helped, too," he said. He stood back up. "All that said... Prima."

Prima let Mint go and looked over his shoulder to Rue. "Yeah?"

"You sure you want to break the seal?"

Over Prima's head, Mint gaped at Rue. He ignored her.

"I mean... you weren't exactly consulted. Seems like you should have a say in this."

Prima smiled broadly. "I do," he said. "It's the least I can do for you– both of you. And Klaus. Everybody here."

Mint exhaled. "Thank god." She turned. "Now please, please can we just visit this stupid thing? No more existential crises. I absolutely forbid it."

They seemed agreed on that.

With Mint taking the lead, walked up to the walls of the altar. The walls were only about six feet high, there was plainly no ceiling, and the stone path lead straight up to a flattened stone door. Mint pressed her hand against it and shoved it to the side. The door slid into the wall, and the path to the altar lay open.

It wasn't much to look at, really; the floor was simple stonework, the walls grimy and gray with age. It was a reasonably large space, but mostly empty; the only exception was a raised dais in the middle of the room, painted with smudged and faded patterns.

That only stopped Mint for a few seconds, though. She stood at the door, looking into the open space of the ruins, frowning to herself.

"Seriously, this is it?" She walked inside, heading toward the dais. "This is a let down."

Prima followed just behind her, looking around, frowning slightly. "Something's weird," he said. He made his way to the center of the altar and clambered up on the dais. "I dunno if this is right."

"It's a thousand years old," Rue said. "And in the middle of a lake. That can't have been–"

The altar erupted in light.

Elaborate patterns spun out across the floor, brilliant golden loops and curves dancing outward from the central dais, their glow quickly fading into a gentle, pulsing light. The central dais itself suddenly flared outward, harsh and intricate geometric patterns etching out across its surface before coming together at the center in an aura of pale flame.

But somehow that failed to compare to the walls. All around them, the blank stone walls suddenly burned to life, bright blue veins of energy sliding and dancing across the surfaces. They inscribed harsh runic symbols, hundreds of them; after a few seconds, the walls were aglow with strange shapes, all burning bright against the evening sunlight. They seemed at first to be random shapes, but it became clear that there was a pattern to them; certain shapes repeated at certain times, then whole strings of them. Finally it became clear that it was a block of shapes repeating after itself over and over across the walls.

"This," Prima breathed. "This is right."

Rue stared at the letters for a few seconds, several seconds, almost a minute.

"Artema," Mint said.

He did not respond.

"Rue."

Her voice was deathly quiet. He swallowed. "Yes."

"This is your handwriting."

He said nothing.

The runic symbols were sharp-cut, a harsh written language that he had never seen transcribed before but knew to the core of his being. It was the same writing he had woken up with. It was the same writing in his diary.

He pressed his hand against the stonework and traced the letters.

"My father in the heavenly light," he read. "I serve you and only you. Sleeper in the–"

He cut himself off and half-turned. Prima and Mint were staring at him.

"Wh-what?" he asked quietly.

"What... what was that?" Mint said, her voice barely above a whisper.

It took him a moment to realize what she had meant. He looked back at the writing.

Not just the alphabet. The words, the construction– it was written in his native tongue. He had slipped into it automatically when he read the words.

Rue felt cold.

"That's what it says," Prima murmured. "Go on, Rue."

His heart hammered in his chest. He was having some trouble breathing. But Rue started again, this time translating directly to English.

"My father in the heavenly light, I serve you and only you. Sleeper in the endless night, at least, I shall fulfill my sacred duty." His hands ran across frigid stone, but he had already stopped reading the words. "Arise from the Aeon's sleep; come forth, the time is now. Reign unto eternity."

He had lost his voice somewhere near the end; the last words were scarcely more than a breath. He coughed, trying to find it voice again.

"It– it repeats from there," he said softly.

"The hell?" Mint cried.

Prima was a little less overt. He walked to the edge of the gleaming dais and sat down, his legs hanging over the side. "That's right," he said. "That's the incantation. Rue, you– you read Aeonic?"

The word rippled through him, but he could scarcely acknowledge it. He didn't want to acknowledge any of Prima's question. He could read the writing, yes, but after the first line he had no longer needed to.

He stepped away from the wall and turned to look at the rest of the altar.

"We need to go," he said quietly.

Mint looked at him carefully. "No we don't," she said. "What's wrong with you?"

"I– I need to go," he corrected. "I need to leave. I'm– tired. Very tired. I need to go back to town."

"Woah, wait," Mint said. She started toward him. "What's going on?"

"I don't know."

That stopped her.

"I don't know," he repeated. "I don't know what's going on, I don't know why I know this place, I don't–"

"You know this place?"

"I've been here before," he said, the clarity striking him almost bodily. "I don't know how or when but I've been here before." His chest felt tight, and he wheeled away from her. "I'm going back to town."

"Hold up–"

"I'm sorry."

He had to leave. He was dizzy, he felt sick, he had to get away. Fighting down the growing urge to run, he walked away from the altar, onto the stone path, across the shattered bit of bridge. Mint was still calling after him.

"Artema! ARTEMA!"

It wasn't long before he couldn't hear her voice anymore.

When he reached the shoreline, he excused himself from the Adlers. He claimed the day had hit him harder than he had first realized, and he needed to lie down back in town. They understood – or understood as much as he could tell them, anyway – and with their blessing he disappeared over the edge of the hill, transformed into a bird, and returned to town fast as wings could carry him.

He didn't bother with niceties. He returned to his room via the window, left partially open to let the breeze in, and returned to human form as soon as he landed. He stood in the middle of his room for a few minutes, calming his fevered breath, gathering his thoughts. Then he picked up his diary and started flipping through it, as though somehow the language and the letters would prove to be something else.

Aeonic?

Impossible.

He snapped the book closed, squeezed his eyes shut, gritted his teeth, tried to think. It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. When could he have been here before? How did he know the spell? How had he woken up five years ago, trapped in a frigid tomb, speaking a language that had been dead for almost six hundred years?

Who the hell am I?