A/N: Random fun fact of the day: Bright Star isn't mute. He's just strange. To Ayame's extreme displeasure.
IMPORTANT NOTE ABOUT CRONA: Since you all got my hint from the last chapter…The anime and manga never give a definite answer about Crona's gender. I'd like to preserve that, however, since English doesn't have an actual gender neutral pronoun, I'm going to continue with the manga's decision to use masculine pronouns for Crona (he/his/him). This in no way means that I've decided Crona is male. It's just easier as a writer to settle on one pronoun than to use a traditionally plural pronoun like they/them. Believe me, I tried. So I'm going to use 'he', but Crona is still essentially androgynous/genderless. Just a heads up.
Review Responses:
pokelover01, glad you liked the chapter, and glad that you're excited to see Crona. I hope you like how I work Crona into the story later on! Thanks so much for reading and thanks for your patience!
cherrishish, yes they are. Thanks for reviewing, and glad you enjoyed the chapter!
Xenoprime1337, thanks so much! Glad you enjoyed Crona's introduction and I'm glad that you think I have the character right. Crona is one of the hardest characters to write, so I worried about that a little. Thanks for reading!
Sabian-Asher, I wrote a long note about it above, but the short answer is that I didn't. I haven't made a decision on Crona's gender and want to keep the ambiguity, but they/them is awkward in prose and I had to settle on one pronoun. I decided to go the manga's route of using masculine pronouns to make things simpler for me as a writer.
Diana Raven, thanks for the appreciation! Really glad that you enjoyed it!
Karma88, keep reading, keep reading, keep reading, definitely someday but when they're a little bit older, no clue, and thanks so much! Glad you enjoyed the story!
Mineemo, strongly suggest you see a doctor for that heart and gut problem. Might I suggest Franken Stein? In all seriousness, thank you for the review, and sorry for torturing you with that cliffhanger! Rest assured that there are no cliffhangers in this chapter. No sir-ee Bob. *whistles innocently while absorbing screams of frustration*
Wisteria, while as a struggling graduate student, I would love to get money, I don't think allows me to accept money from users. And anyway the greatest barrier to my updating is simply 'time'. The chapters are getting longer and more intense, which means they take longer to write. I can write exposition and introspection and calm scenes till the cows come home but fight scenes take a lot of out of me. Glad you're enjoying the chapter, however, and hope you like this one!
Magyk-Foal1, so glad you liked it, and thanks for reading everything! I definitely appreciate the support, and I'm glad you like all those characters! Enjoy the chapter!
Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Lunacy Pt. 1, All or Nothing
The Morrigan led her down a dark corridor, holding on to her tightly by the arm. Annie struggled to keep up, eyes wide as she looked around her. There were shapes in the darkness, terrible, terrifying shapes, creatures embedded deep in the shadows and stone around her. She let out a cry, struggling to wrench her arm out of the Morrigan's grasp. The Morrigan held fast, her grip like iron.
"No, please" Annie said. "Please. I don't want to be here. Please."
"It's only for a little while, sweetheart," the Morrigan crooned, her lip curling up in a smile as she led Annie down the shadowed corridor. "Only for a little while. To keep you safe, you understand."
"No!" Annie said. "No, I don't understand! Where's Cori? I need Cori!" She could feel her breathing quicken, her heart pounding with panic. Cold pricked its way across her skin, a ringing sensation building up somewhere inside of her head. Without Cori, the darkness would come. Without Cori, the nightmares would wake up again.
The Morrigan's eyes narrowed in irritation, and she swung Annie around in front of her, gripping onto her arms tightly with both hands. The crow witch's nails pressed into her skin and Annie whimpered in pain, tears filling her eyes. She kept her gaze firmly on the ground.
"Look at me," the Morrigan said, shaking her slightly. "Look at me."
Annie did, raising her head slowly to meet her eyes. She let out a hiccupping sob. There was no pity in the Morrigan's eyes as she looked down at her, only impatience and thinly-veiled anger.
"You don't mean anything, girl," the Morrigan said. "Do you understand that? You've served your purpose. At this point, you're just a necessary redundancy. So if you want to stay alive—," here she smiled sweetly, trailing a finger along Annie's cheek, "—you'll do as I say. Do you understand me?"
"But I need Cori…" Annie whispered, desperation making her brave. "Without her, I'll—I'll—"
"I don't care," the Morrigan said, pushing Annie backwards softly. Annie stumbled back, realizing too late that the Morrigan had pushed her over a threshold into a smaller room—into a cell. Black bars quickly fell into place over the entryway, separating the Morrigan from her. Annie ran up to them, grasping them tightly in her hands, but it didn't matter how she pulled at them. They refused to move.
"Be a good girl and be quiet for me," the Morrigan said. "I have things I need to do."
"Please," Annie heard herself sob, her voice echoing brokenly in the confines of her cell. "Please—."
But the Morrigan was already turning away, her back towards Annie as she faced another cell in the darkness. Annie heard her speaking to something inside, her voice echoing in the underground corridor.
"Hello, old friend…" the Morrigan's voice whispered. "I was wondering if you would be willing to help me again…"
Chains rattled from somewhere in the darkness. Annie felt a chill as she heard the sound of rattling teeth, ghastly moans. Creatures of terror surrounded her, but she wasn't scared of them. The fear she felt was for something deeper, something within herself. Her fingers went slack around the bars of her cell as her knees buckled. Writhing shadows rose up from the darkness in her mind, coiling around her, dragging her down until the Morrigan's voice seemed to fade away, until she lost sight of the world.
Inside of Annie's mind, there was a room, and inside that room there was a chest. It was an old toy chest, one that was always locked, one that she refused to open. She turned around to face it slowly, her eyes wide, her heart pounding in her throat.
The lid of the chest had cracked open, and something was stirring inside. As Annie watched, unable to tear her eyes away, a hand appeared in the crack, a doll's hand, porcelain fingers wrapping around the chest's rim.
Green eyes appeared in the darkness, bright eyes that were a mockery of her own. As Annie watched, the creature inside started to rise, a rictus grin on her pale, pale doll-like face, black blood streaming around her.
Rei was working his way through sit-ups on the living room floor in the gray light of very early morning when Ayame came downstairs, a towel slung over her shoulder. She walked into the kitchen and came back out with a bottle of water from the fridge, then paused to watch him, leaning against the open doorframe. He struggled through another one, dressed in shorts and a sweat-soaked sleeveless black shirt.
"Not bad, Rei," she said, grinning as she uncapped her bottle of water. "Keep that up and you'll almost be hot."
Rei grunted in response, abdominal muscles straining as he struggled to raise himself one more time. His body ached and he felt out of breath, but the exercise helped keep his mind off of his fear, helped to stop him from thinking about the dream that had woken him up in the first place. The nightmare.
"Shut up," he said, when he could muster enough breath to speak. "This is all your fault. I had a nice, lazy, effortless life before you came along and ruined it."
"You mean before I whipped you into shape?" Ayame asked, smiling. "Oh, boo-hoo. I feel so bad."
"I mean it," Rei said, gritting his teeth. "I mean, what time is it? The sun's not even up. Why am I awake—doing sit-ups—before the sun rises? I used to sleep till noon."
"Cry me a river, sunshine," Ayame said. "And also do ten more."
Rei muttered a curse under his breath as she walked away, heading into the kitchen. He also did ten more.
When he finished, he flopped back against the carpet, arms spread on either side of him as he gasped for breath. Ayame appeared at his side a moment later, holding a bottle of water and a granola bar.
"I don't think I can eat," Rei said, as she set both down on the carpet beside him.
"You have to," Ayame said, sitting down on the ground next to him. She leaned her back against the couch behind her, taking a sip of her own water. "It's going to be a long day."
Rei turned his head towards her as she tore open the foil wrapper of her own granola bar, taking a large bite before washing it down with another gulp of water. "Aren't you scared at all?" he asked.
"Little bit," Ayame admitted, meeting his eyes. The smile faded from her face, her expression growing serious. "But whatever happens, we'll get through it together. Or not at all."
Rei hesitated, watching her for a few long moments. Outside, the predawn light grew brighter, shadows vanishing in the room around them as the sun chased the darkness away. He wondered, briefly, if this was going to be the last morning he saw. Shinigami's words came back to him from the airship, a phrase that he hadn't heard the man utter before.
"Set your affairs in order…"
"If something did happen…" he began.
"Nothing's going to happen," said Ayame.
"But if something did," Rei said. "you'd probably be fine. As long as you stayed in weapon form."
He searched her eyes as she turned back to look at him, the same deep violet that he always found himself getting lost in. She was watching him, a soft frown on her face, disbelief and fear and sadness and even a little bit of anger coming to life in those eyes.
It was always the meisters who got injured. It was—when things went wrong—usually the meisters who died. Meisters were hardier than most normal people, but it was still significantly easier to injure flesh and bone than it was to hurt steel and shadow, and both halves of the weapon-meister partnership knew it. That was why it was the meister's job to train, to master the use of their weapon, to make their weapon the strongest that they could be, and why it was the weapon's job to protect their meister. Always.
But if something did go wrong, if the meister did die, the weapon might survive. If their opponent wasn't feeling particularly vindictive. If the weapon stayed in weapon form. If the weapon didn't insist on fighting on their own. If the weapon wasn't Ayame Star.
Ayame's eyes narrowed as the full understanding of what he had said washed over her, and she looked away.
"We'll get through it together," she repeated. "Or not at all."
"Ayame…" he began.
"Or not at all," Ayame repeated, in a way that told him, firmly, that the subject was closed. She stretched out her leg, nudging him in the side with her foot. "Now eat. We should hurry, if we're going to make that airship."
Rei stared up at the ceiling and sighed, considering her words. Then he relented, turning to look back at her. "Help me up," he said, holding out an arm.
Ayame took it, their hands clasping tightly together as she drew him up into a seat.
Later, as he dressed, putting on his old school uniform for what he told himself wasn't the last time—white shirt and tie and dark-colored jacket, uniform pants in one of the DWMA's approved styles—later, as he tugged on his gloves, as he pinned the yellow star she had given him to his jacket collar with fingers that seemed to have gone numb, he thought over her words, thought over the weight that she had put in them, the responsibility that this partnership had given both of them.
Together, or not at all.
He supposed that made sense, even if nothing else did.
The door to her bedroom swung open, Angela poking her head in from the corridor outside. She paused in the doorway when she saw her partner, leaning against the frame.
"Okay," she said. "You are clearly busy pondering the mysteries of the universe."
Shelley blinked, looking around as she noticed the position she had gotten herself in. She had pulled her desk chair around so that she was sitting on it backwards, her legs curled up in front of her and her knees pressed against the chair's backrest. Her long white hair was still messy from sleep, pulled up into a disheveled bun, and she was wearing an open white bathrobe over her sleep shirt, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose.
"Ugh," she said, sliding her legs out over the side of the chair. She buried her fingers in her hair, trying to straighten it out. "I'm turning into my father."
"Could be worse," Angela said, plopping down onto the foot of her partner's bed. "I mean, he did end up with someone like your mom."
"Accidentally," Shelley noted. "And through very little effort of his own. You're sure we can't get a cat?"
"Pascal wouldn't approve," said Angela, placing her hand on a lump of empty air beside her which melted away to reveal her chameleon familiar. "Did you come up with anything good while you were lost in space?"
"Just the same crap again," said Shelley, tugging her glasses off to run a hand over her face. She let out a long breath, looking over at her meister when she finished. "Was your morning more productive, at least?"
"So-so," said Angela, shrugging. "I managed to get a meeting with Maba-sama. The Witch Council might rethink their non-intervention stance with the Morrigan. The Kishin scares them significantly more than we do."
"As it should," Shelley pointed out.
"No arguments there," said Angela. "Kim's heading back soon to try and seal the deal. She finished healing the last of the wounded from yesterday, so we should have a full team up on the moon when the airship leaves. With luck, she'll bring reinforcements from the Council later."
"Which will hopefully make a difference," Shelley said, frowning as she looked back at the floor. She wondered what it said about her that the world as they knew it could be on the verge of ending, that the monster that her parents had fought against and failed to defeat before she was even born could be waking up again, and her thoughts still invariably turned towards Micah, towards whether she could face him, whether she had the strength to do what needed to be done.
Angela seemed to understand this, because the next thing she knew, her partner was leaning forward, a comforting hand on her arm. Shelley looked up, meeting Angela's eyes.
"We'll finish this, Shell," she said. "Today. I promise. We'll do it together."
And despite the fact that Angela had no way of knowing that for sure, had no way of promising that, Shelley believed her.
"Yeah," she said. "I know we will."
Cori knew as soon as she came downstairs that something was wrong.
No, that was the wrong way to put it. Of course something was wrong. Something had been wrong since yesterday, since her parents and Rei and everyone she knew had come to the castle to rescue the twins and had managed to save only her. But on some level, despite knowing that her parents and brother would be leaving, would be going to save her sister today, she had expected it to be just like any other battle. There had been battles before, moments where Cori and Annie had been left with Rei or with their grandfather while their parents went off to fight evil.
That was expected, and Cori knew how to deal with those moments. Her mom was always serious about them, her dad always tried to be flippant and act like those battles were nothing special, but she always knew that he was serious too. She expected to come downstairs to her mom making breakfast and warning her to behave, to her dad yawning and acting bored with the whole thing and making her mom glare at him while she tried to pretend she wasn't laughing.
She didn't get that. What she got was cereal on the table, and her parents talking to each other in low worried voices, barely acknowledging the fact that she was here at all. What she got was the doorbell ringing, and her grandfather walking into the room, a forced smile on his face that died as soon as he sensed the mood. What she got was Spirit Albarn taking one look around the kitchen, seeing the solemn looks on all of their faces, and announcing that he would wait in the living room, turning the TV on so that he wouldn't accidentally overhear anything they had to say.
What she got was her mom sitting down on one side of her and her dad sitting down on the other, her mom clearing her throat and grasping Cori's hand while her dad ran a hand through his hair and looked like he didn't know what to say.
It looked suspiciously like they were trying to tell her that someone had died. And that scared her, because she knew for a fact that no one on their side was dead yet.
"Cori…" her mom said at last, speaking as though the words pained her. "You know that we're going to try very hard to come back today, don't you?"
Ah. So that was what this was about.
Cori looked from one parent to another in disbelief, what little cereal she had managed to eat turning sour in her stomach.
"What are you saying?" she asked. "You're coming back, aren't you? You're coming back tonight with Rei and Annie."
"We'll do our best, squirt," said Soul, ruffling her hair affectionately. "But you know…stuff happens."
She tried not to lean into his hand, tried to stop from memorizing the look in his eye, the smell of him, the way her mother's hand tightened around hers, her mother's warmth. Tried to tell herself that she was not saying goodbye, but there was a look in her father's eyes that she hadn't seen before.
Sadness. Regret.
"But you'll come back," she heard herself say, heard herself plead. "You always come back."
Maka took Cori's face in her hands, turning her gently to face her. Something hot and wet stung her eyes, and Cori felt tears start making their way down her cheek.
"Cori…" her mother said. "We love you very much. And we're not going to lie to you. This isn't going to be an easy fight. It's possible that not everyone who goes up to the moon today is going to come back."
"But we're still going to go," Soul said. "We're not going to leave your sister up there, and we have to try and stop this from happening. If the Morrigan gets her way, it's going to be very bad for everyone. And if she doesn't…then things are going to be worse."
"Because the Kishin will wake up…" Cori said, sniffling. When her parents blinked at her in surprise, she flushed, lowering her eyes to her lap. "I wasn't sleeping the whole time you were talking yesterday."
"We wish we didn't have to do this," said Maka, touching her face. "But we have to. So you need to be brave, okay? Be brave, and listen to your grandfather. And no matter what happens, know that we love you. You'll do that for us, okay?"
She looked Cori in the eye, expression solemn, and Cori felt her throat close up. She nodded.
"Okay…" she repeated.
Maka leaned in to hug her, wrapping her arms tightly around Cori's head and holding her to her chest. Cori hugged her back tightly, tears staining the front of her mother's shirt, and no matter how many times she tried to tell herself that this wasn't goodbye, she found herself memorizing every moment anyway, found herself holding on to the feeling of Maka's arms around her, her warmth and the steady beat of her heart, the brush of her lips against Cori's forehead as she pulled away. Her dad's arms around her, a much shorter hug than her mom's, because she knew that getting too touchy-feely wasn't really his style. His hand on her head as he ruffled her hair, the crooked grin on his face that didn't reach his eyes when he pulled away.
"You'll be okay," he said. "Right, kid?"
"Yeah, Dad…" she said, forcing herself to return the same crooked smile even though it felt like her heart was breaking. "I'll be okay."
He held out his fist. She tapped it with her own, weakly, and he drew away from her, getting to his feet. He and her mother exchanged a glance over Cori's head, making their way towards the door. Cori slid off of her chair, following. Spirit was standing in the living room when they approached, his own expression solemn. A look she didn't recognize passed between him and her mom, and his expression grew pained.
"Don't worry," Spirit said, his voice soft in a way that told Cori she hadn't been intended to hear this. "I'll take care of her. I promise I will."
They hugged. It was a brief, awkward hug, and one that told Cori that things really were that bad, that nothing about this was normal, because she didn't think she had ever seen her mom and grandfather hug each other before. And then it was over too soon, and her parents were walking out the door. Her grandfather's hand was on her shoulder, and Cori realized as she took a step forward that it was there to stop her from going after them as much as it was there to comfort her. She strained on her tiptoes, pushing as close to the door as she could, her eyes on her parents as they walked away.
She watched them until they were gone and stayed there watching for several moments longer, her grandfather's hand on her shoulder, her world falling apart.
Cori stayed downstairs for about fifteen minutes before barricading herself in Rei's room. Her grandfather had called out to her with some concern as she made her way back up the steps, inviting her to stay downstairs and watch TV with him, but she had refused. There was nowhere in the house that didn't remind her of her parents or Rei or Annie, that didn't make her feel scared, or sad, or so worried and angry that she felt like she was going crazy.
She couldn't sit in the kitchen, where their coffee mugs still sat in the sink, couldn't stay in the living room with her grandfather, where she and Annie would watch cartoons together, or where the four of them and Rei used to curl up on the couch and lie across armchairs for movie nights, back when Rei still lived here and they were all together. And she especially couldn't be in the music room, couldn't sit on the chair of her father's upright piano and think of the nights when he thought they were asleep, when he would come down here and music would fill the room. She couldn't think of what it felt like to sit on his lap, giggling, and press keys when he told her to. If she stopped to think about it too much, she would cry, and Cori already told herself she wasn't going to cry.
She wasn't going to cry, because crying would mean that she accepted they were gone, and they weren't gone. They were definitely coming back. All of them. They always came back.
So instead of crying, she shut herself in Rei's room, which was the only room of the house left available to her. She paced the center of the room angrily, hands clasped behind her back, and told herself again and again that things would be fine, that they were definitely coming back, that she wasn't going to be the only one left behind.
That at the end of the day, she would still have a family, and it wouldn't be her alone.
Those thoughts swirled up inside her, an endless confusion of noise somewhere in the back of her mind, so that when she heard a tap on the window she jumped, not knowing at first whether the sound had been real or just part of the background noise. The tap came again, firmer this time, and Cori finally lifted her head, looking out at Rei's window.
A black-haired boy was leaning over the frame, a frown of confusion on his face. He had one hand raised in a tentative wave.
Bright Star.
Cori's eyes widened, and she quickly ran over to the window, unlocking it and sliding it open.
"Bright Star!" she said, sticking her head out. "What are you doing here?"
The boy had his feet braced against the exterior wall of the house beside her window, one hand clinging to a small knife that he had wedged into the stone. He frowned at her, tilting his head skyward as if trying to work out how to answer her question, then balled up his free hand into a fist and mimed punching at the air.
"Training?" Cori asked. "But aren't you—didn't your parents leave you with someone?"
Bright Star grinned at that and held up the first two fingers of his right hand, pointing them at the ground. He mimed walking away, mischief shining in his green eyes.
"You escaped?!" Cori asked, incredulous. "Why?"
Bright Star shrugged.
"You just felt like it?" Cori repeated. "That's not an excuse, Bright Star!" Bright Star's response was to puff out his cheeks, giving Cori a petulant frown. Cori looked around, pausing to listen, but the TV was still on downstairs and her grandfather hadn't come up to check on her. She looked back at Bright Star. "Anyway, you can't be here. My grandfather's supposed to be watching me, and if he catches you—."
He interrupted her by shaking his head. Cori blinked.
"He won't?" she asked. "He won't catch you?"
Bright Star nodded. Cori was unconvinced.
"What makes you so sure?"
In response, Bright Star tugged his scarf up over his nose and mouth, giving Cori a meaningful look.
"Because you're a ninja?" Cori asked. "Bright Star, you're six."
He opened his free hand, holding up five fingers insistently, followed by two more. Cori snorted.
"Yes, because seven is so much better," she said. She let out a sigh, stepping back from the window. "Anyway, look, thanks for coming over, but I'm kind of having a bad day. Maybe we can play tomorrow? You should get back before people start worrying about you—."
He held up a hand, cutting her off. Cori paused, looking over at him. Bright Star was leaning into the room, a concerned frown on his face. He pointed at her, then pointed at himself. When Cori stared at him blankly, trying to figure out what he was saying, he repeated the gesture.
"Can you help me?" Cori asked. "Is that what you're asking?"
Bright Star nodded.
Cori shook her head, clasping her hands behind her. "I don't think you can," she said. "Not unless you know how to get to the moon."
Bright Star frowned as if considering it. He leaned back and tilted his face upwards, looking up at the sky. His free hand came up, rubbing at his chin.
Then he looked back at Cori, a grin on his face. He nodded.
The moon was still several hours of flight time away, so for the second time in two days, Rei found himself standing on the upper deck of the DWMA's airship, leaning against the railing. It was a surprisingly pleasant day. The sun was warm, the sky impossibly blue above them, the breeze cool against his skin. It was hard to believe that this was a day that could determine the fate of the world.
He settled back against the rail, watching Ayame. She was with her parents on the other side of the deck, trying to get her hair tie back from her father, who had grabbed it from her and was now teasing her with it by holding it just out of reach while she seethed. If he watched the two of them, he could almost make himself believe that this was just another trip, an easy mission, but the illusion dissipated as soon as he looked over at anyone else.
He wished he had their confidence, wished he wasn't scared stiff, that his stomach wasn't currently trying to tie itself in a knot at the thought of what would be waiting for them up there. It would have been a lot more pleasant to not be afraid.
But there probably wasn't anyone else in the world like Black Star. He'd have to settle for just being Rei.
"Almost seems as if it's too nice of a day for this, doesn't it?" a voice asked, a slight figure settling against the railing next to him. Rei looked over at his mother, straightening up.
"They're not helping," he said, inclining his head towards Black Star and Ayame.
Maka gave him a knowing smile. "Would you believe Black Star's actually taking this seriously?" she asked. "It's not obvious, but it's true."
"I believe it," Rei said, "So's Ayame."
He had a feeling Ayame was just as scared as he was, but there was really no need to point that out.
"I've been thinking…" Maka began.
"About what?" Rei asked, looking over at her.
"About you and Ayame," said Maka.
Rei paused, unsure what to say next. He hadn't told anyone about the change in his and Ayame's relationship. It was still so new and so strange, and there were so many other things going on. He wondered if that was what his mother was talking about, if she had found out somehow and was about to scold him for keeping it a secret. But her next words put him at ease.
"I've been thinking about your resonance."
"Our resonance?" Rei asked, looking back at his partner. She had puffed out her cheeks in a petulant scowl, as Black Star's laughter filled the air. He glanced at his mother. "What about it?"
"It's something I noticed yesterday," Maka said. "When the two of you were fighting Mordred." She paused, and Rei knew that she was looking for the words, putting on her 'Maka-sensei' persona. "You know that weapons amplify their meisters' wavelength, right?" At Rei's nod, she went on. "Ayame seems particularly good at it, almost to the point where I'd call it a special ability. It's like her soul takes in her partner's wavelength and makes it stronger, then takes that strengthened wavelength back in and makes it stronger again. Your wavelength doubled and tripled yesterday while you were resonating with her."
Rei looked over at his partner, his mind going back to the feeling of their resonance. His hand went up before he could think about it, pressing over the spot on his chest where his soul rested. He remembered the warmth inside of him when he was resonating with Ayame, remembered her wavelength like fire, burning bright inside the hollow smokiness of his own soul.
"In fact," his mom said, still speaking, "I'd guess that that ability is why Ayame had such a hard time finding a partner in the first place. It would be overwhelming for most souls to have their wavelength suddenly broadcasted back at them. Most souls, especially inexperienced ones, are too rigid to take it. You'd need an especially flexible soul," She glanced sidelong at Rei whose hand pressed harder into his chest, "one that would have the room to expand and grow."
He thought back to the sight of his own soul, in the dream with the stag, thought back to Ayame's soul burning like a fire. She'd been able to catch his wavelength, faint as it was, had been able to draw his soul out of hiding with her own. And he'd been able to hold onto the fire without getting burned. He thought back to the day they had met again, that first day in the DWMA, when he helped her up and she refused to admit that she was crying.
"When it feels right," Maka had said once, when he was worried about not finding a partner, "you'll know."
He shook his head, smiling, lowered his hand back to his side.
"It doesn't surprise me," he said. "Ayame's ability. She's always felt lonely being as strong as she is. She's always trying to bring people up to her level."
"She makes you want to work harder," Maka said, giving him a knowing smile.
Rei flushed, wondering if he was being that obvious. But he couldn't deny it. "Yes," he said. "Yes, she does."
"That's good," Maka said. "Hold on to that. You're going to need it today."
Her eyes moved past him, scanning the sky ahead of them. Rei saw the smile slip away from her face, saw her shoulders tense, her mouth pressing in a tight line, and knew that she was thinking about the battle.
"This is going to be bad, isn't it?" he asked, watching her.
"It could be," said Maka, letting out a soft sigh. She looked back at him. "Rei, how much do you know about what happened on the moon, that first time?"
"The gist of it," said Rei, shrugging. "The Kishin Asura made his last stand up there. You all went up to fight him when you were younger. You didn't manage to defeat him, but he was sealed away thanks to the power of Brew. Now I'm guessing the Morrigan wants to pick up where Medusa and Arachne left off and try and take the Kishin's power for herself."
"Close enough," said Maka, nodding. "Thanks to Medusa, Asura…has the black blood, the same black blood your sister has. The black blood is the key to taking Asura's power. As far as we can determine, someone with the black blood can absorb another black-blooded person into themselves, as long as their will is stronger than the other's."
"And the black blood's contagious," said Rei. "That's how Dad got it. When he got that scar on his chest, some of it got into the wound. That's why the Morrigan kidnapped Annie, so that she can use the black blood to give herself the ability to absorb the Kishin."
Maka nodded. "That's what we've been able to figure out so far," she said, her expression growing grim again. Rei watched her for a few long moments, wondering what she was thinking of, what she was remembering. His dream came back to him, the voice's warning. Warn Maka about danger and death.
He didn't even know where to begin.
"Mom…" he said, taking a stab at it. "What happens if the Morrigan succeeds?"
"If she absorbs the Kishin, you mean?" Maka asked, looking back at Rei. "It's probably going to be very bad. Not many people know this, but Asura…" She hesitated, glancing towards the bridge. Through the bridge's glass windows, Rei caught sight of Shinigami, looking solemnly out into the distance with his weapons beside him. "The previous Shinigami," Maka said, trying again, "had two sons. Two…fragments of himself."
Rei's eyes widened and he looked back at his mother. "Are you trying to tell me that Asura is Shinigami-sama's brother?" he asked.
"That's exactly what I'm telling you," said Maka, solemn. "Order and Fear…two sides of Death. The previous Shinigami created Asura to separate Fear from himself, but Asura turned against him. If the Morrigan manages to overpower Asura and absorb him, she'll have all of the Madness of Fear inside of herself. She'll basically be a shinigami."
"And if she fails…"
"If she fails, Asura will absorb her," Maka said. "And then we'll have Asura."
Rei shuddered. Asura, the Kishin, awake and more powerful for having absorbed the Morrigan's soul. He wasn't sure which outcome was worse.
Maka watched the understanding dawn on her face and nodded, looking back up at the sky. "You get it now," Maka said. "No matter who wins between the Morrigan and the Kishin, the outcome isn't good. Our best bet is to stop her from making contact with Asura at all, and hoping we can get away before he wakes."
"And if we can't?" Rei asked.
"If we can't," Maka said, "We'll fight as hard as we can. And we'll hope that Kid is strong enough now to take that Fragment of Fear back, because that's what he's going to try to do."
Her eyes drifted towards Shinigami again, concern in her expression. Concern for her friend. The details of his dream came back to him again, the voice that had claimed to be Maka's friend.
There was another character in this story, one that he had heard little about in the history books. One that no one seemed to mention except for his mother and his father and the people who knew them. He didn't know the details, but he had always had the feeling that it was a long and complicated story.
He drew in a deep breath.
"Annie's with the Morrigan because she has the black blood," Rei said. "The same black blood that Asura has. Annie inherited that blood from Dad, but Dad caught it from someone else, didn't he? He caught it from the person who wounded him."
Maka turned to look back at him slowly, lowering her hands to her side.
"Yes?"
Rei met her stare head-on, the voice from his dream still ringing in his ears.
"Can we talk about Crona?" he asked.
The only thing Morgan knew when she came to was that she was somehow still alive, and after lying there for a few moments, she wasn't even entirely sure of that. Her entire body ached, a tingling pain that went past her skin and settled somewhere deep inside her bones, and her head throbbed. There was a ringing in her ears, that wouldn't ease up, and a sharp ball of static in the pit of her belly where the comforting blaze of her magic should have been. The air was laced with the scent of char.
Water lapped at her sides, bearing her aloft. She was floating on her back somewhere, she realized, her sodden dress threatening to drag her down. With some difficulty, she opened her eyes, half-expecting to find that she was lying in a pool of her own blood.
She wasn't.
The ceiling of a high cavern came into focus above her, gray stone forming a cathedral-like expanse that surrounded her. A shaft of sunlight filtered in from a gap in the stone, reflecting against water that was a pure, crystalline blue. Somewhere in the distance, she heard a rushing sound, like many small wings beating at once. She thought she heard voices, whispers. Feminine voices, like the voices of fairies.
It was too much to take in at once. Her brow furrowed in confusion, her mouth falling open as she tried to comprehend how the fireball she had found herself in had become this.
Am I dead…?, she thought.
The words echoed around her, spoken by a hoarse voice that sounded suspiciously like her own, and Morgan realized that she had said them out loud.
"Fool!" barked a sudden voice, a white staff cracking her sharply over the head and shoving her face into the water.
Morgan came up coughing and spluttering, her hands pressing against her head where her attacker had struck her. She spun around, scowling in indignation, and saw what looked like a strange, deformed little man standing on an island of stone in the center of the lake. He was dressed purely in white, with a hooked white nose and beady white eyes, with hardly a spot of color on him at all.
"What did you do that for?!" she demanded.
"Fool!" the man repeated again, swinging his staff at her. Morgan quickly raised her arms up over her head in defense as he stepped towards her, swinging the staff over and over again. "Do not ask such stupid questions. Don't you know who I am?"
"Demonstrably not, or I wouldn't be asking you!" said Morgan, stepping back into deeper water with her arms up to guard against the onslaught. She looked back over her shoulder, turning her face away from the blows, and realized that the voices she had heard had been fairies, fairies all clustered against the wall of the cave, watching the scene with a strange expression on their faces.
An expression that was somehow a mix between exasperation and utter disgust. She chanced a glance back at the creature that was attacking her—
—and got smacked in the face for her trouble. Morgan stumbled backwards, bowing her head, her hands going up over her nose. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a deep breath. It stung. Nothing like the deep ache that had settled into her body, but it certainly didn't help.
She looked up, eyes narrowed.
"Why are you hitting me?!"
The little man's response was to take a swipe at her knees. Morgan leaped back, avoiding the blow, and nearly stumbled, her soaked skirt weighing her down in the water. The man stepped forward sternly, holding his staff in both hands as he walked towards her.
"You're not worth the blood you bear," the little man said. "One scrawny, foolish girl, not even a direct descendant. What are you even doing here? You don't know who I am? My legend begins in the twelfth century—."
The twelfth century…
Morgan blinked up at him, relaxing her guard. Slowly, she moved her hands away from her face.
"Excalibur…?" she asked, tentative.
The staff sailed through the air again, cracking her soundly over the top of the head. Morgan let out a yelp of pain, followed by a snarl of anger as she reached out, catching the staff in the air and holding on with one hand. "Alright, that is enough—!" she began.
Excalibur shifted his weight, knocking her off her feet before she knew what was happening. She fell into the water with a splash, landing on her rear. In front of her, the Holy Sword's avatar spun around, pointing his staff at her decisively.
"Let me ask you again," Excalibur said, the staff leveled at her. His whole demeanor seemed to have changed in that instant. He drew himself up to his full height, his voice booming, echoing in the cavern as he fixed her with a piercing glare. "What are you doing here, blood of Arthur?"
