Ack! I'm so sorry, my readers! I haven't updated this story in FOREVER and that's super awful. That was all due to me updating my other story, and there was a part in this chapter where I was just stuck. Writing beginnings are always difficult. BUT ANYWAY, here's your next chapter (that takes place on Orbis), and the next update will come very soon!
Oh, and just saying, if you all really love Scomiche (who doesn't?), I've gotten myself hooked on this writer on (or .net I forgot) and their name is palebluedream. Absolutely beautiful work. Seriously, their stories make me want to scream, cry (a lot), and grin in happiness. Their style is so amazing that I want to sob. Please read their work! :)
That's all from me for now. Thank you for your reviews and follows! Happy reading!
A rush of air swirled around his body, both cool and warm, but above all things inviting. It filled his lungs with the pleasing scent of grass mixed with redwood. Scott's eyes remained closed as he sighed, slowly breaking away from the dark blackness of sleep. He didn't want to move. He'd just keep on laying down on his spot on the floor, feeling the freshness of the environment, enjoying life.
Why had he never come to this place before? It made him feel cleansed and new and sedated, not to mention having such an effect on him that his nerves tingled in anticipation. Yeah, he'd come back here and bring Mitch with him, plus some sunscreen, a bottle of wine, maybe a few sandwiches to snack on if they stayed until the sun went down-
Wait a damn minute.
Scott's blue orbs snapped to attention. The sudden brightness of the sky above made him regret the action and wince, lifting up a hand to shield his face. Blinking, he quietly groaned in dismay, and sat up.
"Ugh..." He rubbed his cheeks, once, twice. He needed to wake up, not to mention gather his bearings. Where the hell had that redhead taken him? Knowing the excelling good fortune that always seemed to follow him, he was most likely sitting in her backyard chained to her fence waiting to be poisoned to death or some shit like that. If it was going to happen to anybody, it would happen to him.
But no; after he'd pulled his head from his hands to examine his pale wrists, he found no metal. The blonde checked his ankles as well. Nothing.
Picking himself up (also fighting the wave of dizziness that hit him when he did so. Whoa, there, Hoying, slow down), he straightened to his full height, blinked rapidly to clear his blurry vision, and took a good proper look around.
Trees. Tress were everywhere. Literally; to the left, trees. To the right, trees. Behind him, trees. In front of him...well, there was actually a small brook bubbling merrily. But it was completely surrounded by, you guessed it, trees. This was some sort of forest. A forest of dark wood and equally dark green. Hints of jade lurked hidden in leaves, glinting prettily.
Scott glanced upward at the cheery sky, seeking the sun. Wasn't that what you were instructed to do if you were lost? He soon found you really couldn't see the sun while standing underneath all of the trees, as their branches and leaves got in the way.
The baritone's breathing was becoming heavy. Okay, okay, so he couldn't tell what time it was and he also didn't know where he was. Actually, he did sort of know. He was in the middle of a forest, possibly miles away from civilization, with no idea of what to do.
So the good news was Scott wasn't chained to a fence waiting to be force-fed poison.
Bad news was he still had no idea what to do, despite the good news.
Should he stand here and wait for somebody to come help? He threw the notion in his mental garbage the second it apperated. Yeah, right. That could take forever. Perhaps he should start to walk around a little; there might be a camp of some sort nearby with people that could help him. Hell. He could be in the middle of Nebraska. Or Idaho. Nobody would look for him in Idaho.
Calming his racing thoughts took a second. Scott sucked in more of the clean air to help clear his head. Right, he would have to go with option number 2, picking a direction and walking in it until he either ran into something or died of starvation.
Happy fun time.
He'd taken all of two steps when he realized, DUH! The singer might have his phone still on him! Scott eagerly dug around the pockets of his jacket and jeans, but lifted his palms to see them empty-handed. Oh, now he remembered; he'd left the device on the floor back at the apartment. He didn't think that he would require it because he was under the impression he would go to the bar and then go straight home.
Just thinking of home made Scott sick. He realized that he quite strongly wished for Mitch to be there with him, shooting a sassy remark or complaining that dirt was getting in his shoes or casually flirting with him. He missed Avi, Kirstie, and Kevin, too. They'd get out of this weird forest together and not alone. Five heads were better than one.
Stop pining and get moving, Hoying. The baritone dismissed any ponderings of his friends that were still haunting his head. He needed to get back to them, yet more importantly, he had to exit this forest. With a sense of wary resolution, he chose a random direction and began his journey.
Grass did not usually carry an undercurrent that faintly glowed. Leaves that clung to the sturdy branches of trees didn't whistle a different tune each time the wind blew past them. Insects hadn't swarmed around Scott to attack him, but to playfully buzz by his ears, and he could swear that they giggled whenever he swatted them away.
He blamed all of these things on exhaustion and weariness. What kind of grass glows?
Does grass in Idaho glow?
Scott had been walking for he didn't even know how long (probably a couple of hours; for he not only lacked a phone, he also lacked a watch) and had come to three solid conclusions: one, that the forest never ended. Two, that the light of day never seemed to run out. Three, that he was tired as shit and would very much like to pass out on said grass that glowed. It looked soft. And comfortable.
The only mildly exciting thing that had happened to him was his run-in with a rabbit. It had sniffed at him, edged closer, before changing its mind and sprinting off. He'd been half-inclined to ask it where he could find civilization. That was how tired he was.
This was some major Alice In Wonderland mojo. Maybe the blonde would stumble upon a bottle that said Drink Me. And he would drink it. Because he was hungry. And thirsty. He could probably eat those neon orange mushrooms growing a few feet away...probably.
Scott continued on his way ahead, puffing at the effort it took to keep going, praying that this was all just some terrible nightmare and he would wake up any second to the smiling face of Mitch, who would be chiding him for staying in bed so late.
His brooding mood was shattered the instant the sound of a twig snapping reached his ears. Scott immediately stopped moving, his gaze sweeping the trees with serious intent. God, he couldn't handle fighting a bear or something like that.
Silence hung in the air. The baritone waited. Nothing happened for several moments.
Another twig audibly broke. Scott's head swiveled to the place that the noise had emitted from, a few paces to his left. Fight or flight? His brain offered. He was debating the former when all of a sudden a voice that was not his own spoke.
"Are you lost?"
The body of the tall man started in surprise. He held a hand to his heart to steady himself, slightly ashamed for being so skittish. He looked around and saw no one. Tentatively, he answered, "I think that I am. Or I'm in the middle of Idaho."
No tone offered anything in return. Scott thought that the voice sounded very familiar. "Who's there?"
A pause. Then: "I might as well come out. You heard me break the twigs already, which is proof enough of my awful tracking skills." The voice said begrudgingly. It was a deep voice, as deep as a bass. Come to think of it, that voice sounded a lot like...
A man stood up from his place five feet away (crappy tracking skills? Sure) and brushed the dirt from his arms. He stepped forward so he and Scott were a mere foot from each other. He had a light brown beard that was well-groomed, the hair on his head tied into a bun so it wouldn't get in his line of sight, and a set but kind facial expression.
Scott's mind kicked into overdrive, unwilling to comprehend the sight before him. His striking blue eyes widened and he nearly gasped.
"Avi?" He questioned, not ready to believe.
This man, who could have been nobody other than Avriel Kaplan, raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Whoa, you're a brave one. I haven't been called by my real name by somebody I just met in...well, actually, that's never happened." His hazel-greenish pupils narrowed. "Are you some sort of Masitre that I haven't heard of?"
"What?" Scott's face turned confused. More confused than he was at the moment, anyway. On top of acting like he didn't recognize his fellow band mate, Avi was dressed in clothes the baritone had never seen his wear before, an ensemble of pure black; thin, short black scarf around his neck, black gloves, boots with silver stitching up their sides, wrinkled pants locked in place with a metal belt, a quarter-sleeve black jacket whose back dipped down to stop just above the bassist's knees, and a solid, plain shirt underneath.
Avi looked the tall blonde up-and-down. "I haven't seen you around this part of the forest before."
Scott had literally no idea what to say. Not only did his fellow band mate not seem to know him, but he was dressed differently, and also seemed to be acquainted with this weird, glowing mass of trees. He decided that this was all insane, that this was some crazy-ass nightmare, but what are you supposed to do when you're presented with an insane crazy-ass nightmare?
Fake it till you make it.
"Yeah." The baritone blinked. "I, er. I'm new to the forest, I guess." He looked around. "And I'm not really sure where I am. Could you show me to some civilization that isn't cannibalistic?"
Avi stared at him for a moment, before letting a chuckle escape him. "Did you piss off somebody who has an affinity with memory charms? You look like you could be from Masitre Hall's tribe with the way that you're dressed, and they're pretty well known for messing with people's memories. He does like to let Lindsey go a little wild every now and then."
Scott couldn't help the question that burst forth. "What's a Maistre? Are you one or something like that?"
The bass's humored expression immediately melted into one of honest worry. "Whoa. You really must've made somebody mad. What's your name, kid?"
Shifting uneasily on his feet, it occurred to the person unfamiliar with the forest that he should lie. But despite Avi acting like a stranger, Scott had always been a sucker for the openness of his face, and replied, "Scott Hoying."
"What's your rank?"
It was asked as simply as one would ask somebody their age or when their birthday was. However, to the seemingly straightforward inquiry, he didn't have an answer. "I don't know what that means." He said truthfully. Avi's eyes turned from curiosity into concern.
"You can't remember your rank?" The bearded man questioned, bewildered. He received a helpless nod in response.
Avi blinked at Scott, whom blinked right back. Staleness hung in the air. It took the bassist a moment to sort out the situation in his head before he began to speak.
"I know that this is going to sound weird." He edged closer to the blonde, seemingly wary, but also unafraid. Then again, there was nothing to be afraid of. Maybe a sudden burst of hysterical laughter. Yeah, that sounded likely. Oh, and he was saying the word weird? This entire goddamn insane crazy-ass nightmare was weird. "But I need you to try something for me. Think back. Way back. Closing your eyes helps, too." He added that last part when Scott's eyebrows scrunched almost painfully.
The tall man closed his eyes, and though this Avi was not the Avi that he knew, did as he was requested. He thought back, way back, way back to the time he had sung his first song in front of an audience. He'd had nowhere near the skill he had now, but the people had been nice enough to clap for the obviously nervous beginning singer. He could still recall the hesitant smiles he had received, and the look on his mother's face as she grinned in congratulations.
White fog muddled the memory, seeping into the sides of it until he could only remember half of his mother's smile. Only half. His blue eyes flew open.
"Was there anything in your memories that covered them up? Diluted them?" Avi had seen the change in expression of the newcomer.
Scott nodded. His features morphed into the purest confusion on the planet. "I don't know what happened to me. I don't know where I am or..." Flashes of red hair danced behind his eyes. "Or who messed with me, if I was messed with at all. Please." The baritone gave a worse than clueless look to the bass he'd known for years yet didn't know him. "Can you...can you help me?"
Avi, the kindred soul that he was, stepped forward to grab Scott's arm. With a seriousness in his voice, he stared directly into bright blue eyes and offered his oath. "I don't know you, Scott, and I don't know how you know my name. But I do know this; you're confused. You might've made somebody who knows what they're doing mad." His grip tightened as sincerity flooded his deep tone. "I'll help you. I promise."
Relief bloomed in the blonde's chest. He smiled a small smile. "Thank you, Avi."
"Don't be so grateful just yet." Green orbs grew slightly cautious. "If I'm to help you, you have to come with me." He released Scott, leaving the choice up to him.
And what choice did he have, really?
"I'll go with you. I have nowhere else." Scott became uneasy. "Where are we going, anyway?"
A tinge of slyness graced the grin that spread across Avi's face. "Home, of course."
"How much further?" Scott couldn't help but complain. The two had been walking for equally as long as the tall man had trekked solo. His spirits had only lifted a slight bit.
The bass treading in front of him rolled his eyes. "Only a short while. Mother of Sound, but you whine a lot."
"What's the Sound? You keep on saying that." Brushing away more giggling bugs, the blue-eyed man walked a little faster to keep up (and tried not to trip over any tree roots; Avi acted like he'd been living in this forest all of his life and rarely made a misstep).
In response, the bearded man shook his head. He lifted a stray hanging branch, waited for Scott to duck under it first, and then followed deftly. "You continue to shock me, Scott. I didn't know that your memory had been altered so fully." He paused. "But as much as I want to, I shouldn't tell you anything yet. Doing so might trigger something inside of your head, placed by the charm or enchantment."
"What happens if some charm or enchantment triggers?"
"Oh, nothing bad." Avi patted a luminous green mushroom thrice the size of his hand fondly. "Your eyes will explode and blood will gush from the two holes in your head. Then you might experience the pleasant sensation of been drowned in boiling oil. You'll convulse in excruciating pain for a few minutes until your brain can't take the pressure any longer and blows up."
"Oh." Came the faint reply. "That's...um...intense."
It only took one glance at the blonde's paling face for the bassist to chuckle. "I'm kidding. I think." This did not help to calm Scott's overthinking thoughts. "I've never seen such a thing happen before, but that doesn't mean it isn't possible."
Alright, if the previous statement hadn't been comforting, then the following one basically signed his death contract.
Today continued to get better and better.
After a few more minutes of walking, Avi stopped Scott by placing a hand on his shoulder and facing him.
"You should know that the people of my leader's tribe are..." He sought for the right word as the baritone gnawed his lip out of nervousness. "Interesting. And powerful. Some not as much as others, but still. They will treat you like an outsider, and glance at you strangely, until my leader announces that you're in his care. What I'm saying is, don't be shocked if people start cussing at you for no apparent reason. We've been trained to be suspicious of everyone."
"Do I want to be in your leader's care?" The tall man asked.
"He's one of the only people on Orbis who I think might be able to help you." Avi said.
Somehow, Scott doubted that.
Before he could ask what Orbis was or if he was allowed to fire insults in retaliation or if he was supposed to kiss the feet of the leader so that he wouldn't be decapitated, the bass took hold of his arm and guiding him past several more thick trees until they came across a wood fence. It seemed to appear out of thin air. Avi didn't pay this nay mind, instead stepping towards it and humming softly. The gates opened as if commanded by his will.
Scott didn't know what he had been expecting, but it was certainly not this; a large clearing that looked like it housed a tiny village. There were stalls set up next to tree trunks, draped with cloth or beads or food, and if he glanced up he could see literal tree houses. Legit. The giant trees of the forest had been used to make houses that actually looked quite nice and neat from the outside. Ladders of rope and wood hung from either the front doors or (more commonly, it seemed) the front 'deck' or 'porch', so they could be climbed or retracted, whichever the person residing there wished. People bustled about the place, maybe forty to fifty, although there were no children. All here were teenagers or adults at the very oldest. No elders, either.
As they walked, Scott's greedy gaze drank in more. What a fascinating place! All of the buildings seemed to be in the branches of trees, at least the makeshift houses were. There was a small thing that resembled a stone hut off to the side, with a giant window cut into the side. Even from this distance, the blonde could feel the heat that radiated from the place, and hear the clanking of metal on metal.
"That's the Forgery." Avi said lowly, noticing the newcomer looking and pointing to the stone hut. "I spend my sols working there."
Another building caught his attention; it was a tall thing, so tall that it in itself could've been a tree, sculpted of dark wooden beams. The general atmosphere around the place appeared hushed, and this did not seem surprising as the door that led in and out was still. A circle of green had been mounted above the door, and it had something written on it, but it was in a language that Scott couldn't understand.
In the middle of the place sat a campfire. The logs were slightly burned, most likely from the previous night, and the stones containing the sizable monument grey as mountain dust. No seats surrounded it, so Scott assumed that everybody sat on the grass during meetings. Or whatever was held at the campfire.
Just as the blue-eyed man was turning his head to comment to Avi on how everything looked (impressive, neat, and mystically grand despite obvious attempts at modesty), whispers erupted around the pair. While they walked, getting closer to a destination that Scott was unaware of, people stopped what they were doing to stare. Scott stared as well. All of the people seemed to be adorned in some form of simple black, maybe with the occasional metal touch. Some had markings that resembled tattoos. Some had bare skin. Some were pierced. Many were not. They all shared one thing in common, and that was the fact that all of their eyes were on him and their mouths all moved with questions and he really, really, really wanted to wake up from this insane crazy-ass nightmare, thank you very much sir, because that would be just amazing.
"They seem friendly. I think I should go over to that dude who looks like he wants to punch my lights out and say hi."
"I told you before. We're raised to be suspicious." Their journey across the space continued, though it appeared that it would be ending soon. "You aren't dressed like us, first of all. You don't carry an air like you know who you are or how powerful you are-"
"That's because I don't." Scott muttered. "I know who I am. I don't know how powerful I am or why that should matter. You're talking physically, right?"
"No." Avi gave a passive look. "I'm talking about how gifted you are with the Sound. They don't know if they should bow to you or spit at you."
"Bow? What the hell is this Sound shit and why-"
"Scott." The bass cut him off sharply. The curious crowd was beginning to edge closer, debating if it wanted to touch its toes over the line. "Calm down and stop asking questions. You need many thing explained to you, but first you need to get your memory healed. Then I might not have to explain so much to you."
One person from the quickly quiet scattering of people ran forward to block the two men's path. She was pretty, with an impish face and skin the color of chocolate, smooth, unblemished. Her ears were as pointed as her chin, her stature small, and her light purple eyes matching the awe of her short-cut white hair. Like everyone else (except Scott), her outfit was black; tank top, boots, a short jacket that was long-sleeved but ended just above her hips, and a choker
"Sorry, Sie zu stoppen, Maistre." She bowed respectfully to Avi. When she straightened, she did it weirdly, as if she was a robot that had recently learned how to do the motion correctly. Scott vaguely recognized the tongue she spoke in. Polish? German? But how was that possible...
The bass offered a small smile. "Ja, Amethyst?"
"Ich muss mit dir reden-"
"Ich bin in diesem Augenblick besetzt." Avi said, gesturing to Scott, whom stood uncomfortably underneath Amethyst's calculating gaze. "Wir sind ziemlich müde."
The girl with snowy hair paused delicately. "Darf ich...?"
Avi smiled. "Ja, danke." He turned to the man standing next to him to translate. "Scott, this is Amethyst; she's our healer. She wants your permission to ease you."
Hesitation presented itself, crawling and slow. What on earth was this monolingual purple-eyed girl going to do to him? Although, perhaps this was also a test of sorts to see if he would get along with the others...and he was tired...
He answered positively. To his shock, Amethyst sent a warm smile his way, reaching to take his hand. Her fingers were soft, her nails plain and without polish, but kept and well-manicured.
In a voice as soft as her hand, she sang, "Geheilt werden."
A particular calm feeling washed over Scott, so relaxing that he drew in a deep breath and let it out with an uneven shudder. It reminded him of a tranquil ocean, of sitting in the sun on the sand, of quiet mornings that consisted of sitting on the couch drinking coffee doing nothing but letting thought run in and out of his head. Immediately, the strain he hadn't known taken residence on his shoulders lessened. He breathed again, far more content than he had been all that day. Amethyst retracted her hand, said something in that quiet tongue he couldn't grasp, and bounded off.
"Better?" Avi asked kindly. The blonde allowed a feel-good smile to grace his face while the bassist explained as they finished their walk. "Amethyst is a really sweet girl. She's new to the tribe and came here a few months ago. She's a quiet one, but she means well and will help whoever she can." The two stopped in front of a particularly large tree with a particularly large house sitting atop it. "She can only speak German, though, but she's told me she wants to try to learn English."
"Is knowing more than one language important?"
The bearded man chuckled. "This is how important it is; all tribal leaders need to be fluent in at the very least five. It's in a tribe member's best interest to be bilingual."
Scott whistled a little. "Five languages? That sounds fucking difficult."
"Learning tongues that differ from the one your mother taught you is easier when you're familiar with the Sound." Avi sized the tall man up for a second, shook his head, and pointed up to the house. "That's where the leader of the tribe lives. You're to listen to his commands and you're to call him Maistre, understand? Anything less is considered disrespectful."
"But you let me call you Avi."
"Yes." A grin was broadcasted on said person's features, wide and open. "That's because I...I don't mind having you call me by my actual name. It's been a long time since somebody who doesn't have my rank and who isn't a close friend has called me that."
We are close friends. The blue-eyed singer deflated at the pondering, covering it up well as he climbed the sturdy ladder. But somehow you don't remember. Somehow I got stuck in Idaho in some forest and now I don't understand anything anymore.
Only a few seconds passed until Avi met him at the top of the mock porch. It really was nice up here; the view was amazing, you could see all of the curious people dressed in black murmuring about, trading items and talking to each other and doing chores and errands. The doorway, interestingly enough, was without a door. Scott asked about this (he was starting to feel stupid for asking so many things, but Avi was a patient man) and the answer was that people usually didn't have front doors because, if they wished to be undisturbed, they merely pulled up their ladder. This made so much sense that the baritone blushed at his ignorance.
Avi led the way. He stepped into the doorway, knocking on the frame a few times, and called, "Maistre, are you here?"
There was an abrupt BANG! from behind a door that was to the right of the living room (which was very nice from the quick glace it was given; a large rug covered the floor, and there was a couch and two chairs stationed around a wood table. The table carried a clay pot in the center that had a single flower growing out of it. As Scott watched, the flower changed color from blue to pink. Weird as fuck, but also cool) and a string of curses that sounded Italian. A moment later, the door flew open.
Scott had been feeling calmer and more sane since Amethyst had used her powers on him, but the second he saw who appeared, he wanted to run out the door and back into the woods.
"I swear, Avi, your neat freak habits are going to end me one day, I dropped a whole bunch of shit everywhere-" A high-pitched voice complained, the owner of the voice setting the books they were balancing on the wooden table beside the color-changing flower. They looked up to realize that Avi was not alone. They brushed their hands on their knees, straightened, and a flirty expression morphed their features. "Ah, you brought company."
"I did. Maybe he can be your roommate and keep your messy habits in check." Avi teased, casting Scott an easy glance.
"Hmm." They seemed to be considering it for a second, sending Scott a wink that had him reeling in silent shock. The blonde dropped his gaze to the floor, sure his cheeks were tinted pink, or red, his face was so heated he truly couldn't tell. "He's a newcomer?"
Scott briefly flicked his eyes upwards to stare at the face of Mitchell Grassi, who was looking at his best friend of twelve years as if this was the first time he'd ever seen him.
Mitch's tentative smile melted a little when he saw the way the baritone was gazing at him. "You look pale, newcomer. Are you alrig-"
That smile. That one motherfucking smile had done it. It was a smile that Scott had seen for as long as he could remember. It had been given to him on so many occasions. It was so familiar that his aching heart and his numb brain couldn't handle it.
Wooden floors, though they aren't as solid as concrete, seriously hurt you head. For real.
Ow.
Why is the room turning upside down. Why. If somebody would just tell Scott why then he would be okay. If they would also tell him why black was starting to drown his vision, that would be great as well. If somebody would tell him any good news, any good news, he would be fine.
He should let himself faint. He should let himself drown in the blackness. Then he'd be awake, he'd be awake and okay and this insane crazy-ass nightmare would be over. He wouldn't wake up in a glowing forest that made his nerves buzz, he wouldn't be guided to a forest village by one of his band members who acted like they didn't know him, he wouldn't have the knowledge that his best friend was the leader of a tribe and didn't recognize a single line of his face.
He wouldn't he wouldn't he wouldn't he wouldn't he wouldn't he wouldn't he wouldn't he wouldn't and nobody could make him do it. Nobody.
Except that somebody could.
And they did.
"He didn't fully pass out, Avi, look, he's coming around. Hello?" Mitch's voice was softer on the last words. Warm, thin hands were cradling his face. "Can you open your eyes?"
If he opened his eyes then he would wake up. And some part of him, a part of him he'd never known, knew that he had to wake up. He had to wake up.
Scott's eyes did not struggle open. They did as they had done when he had first woken, snapping abruptly so that he saw the face of his best friend above him. Mitch was closer than he had expected, although for some reason, he didn't want to pull away. The brunette smiled at him and this time it didn't make him wish to go back to his normal non-fantasy-nightmarish life so badly that he lost himself to sudden sleep.
The pair simply stared into each other's eyes for a second. The countertenor was the one to blink first, breaking the nonexistent conversation that their pupils betrayed.
"You got a little faint there. Are you alright?" Scott nodded, blushing again. When had he become so damn shy?
Mitch helped him up with strong hands, situating him beside Avi. The tiny man's expression was one of thoughtfulness. Without taking his eyes from the blonde's flushed face, he asked, "Why did you bring him to me, Avi, if the second he sees me he passes out?"
"That's exactly why I brought him to you." The bass responded. He moved from Scott's side to stand next to Mitch. This made him feel more than a little uncomfortable, as now he was under two heavy gazes instead of one. "He lost his memory, Mitch. He knows his name, but he can't recall his tribe or his rank, and when he did the mind exercise he told me he saw the white fog. I think his mind might be triggered and I believe one might've gone off just now." Avi pursed his lips. "I thought you might be able to help him."
"Help him how? My powers are the farthest thing from charms as they can get." Mitch argued, stepping towards Scott with interest. The baritone resisted taking a step back. "He needs somebody good with enchantments or healing. Has he seen Amethyst or Bloom?"
"We both know that Amethyst is so new she can only heal physical ailments. And anyway, she cured his exhaustion, and if there was more she could do right now I'm sure she would've done it." The bearded man crossed his arms. "Although, seeing Bloom isn't a bad idea. Is he-"
"No, he went to see Lindsey. They're working on a project or something like that. So he's gone for the next few sols." The brunette was now standing directly in front of Scott, whose eyes were still cast downward, and said, "Please meet my stare."
The blue-eyed newcomer remembered what Avi had said about respect and lifted his gaze. Dark brown pupils sparkled up at him, causing his heart to give a weak jolt. His best friend was still so close even though he was so far.
"What is your name, zaffiro?" The smaller man asked.
Scott cleared his throat to assure that his voice wouldn't crack, and introduced himself to somebody he already knew for the second time that day. "Scott Hoying." Avi's voice chided him in the back of his mind, and he hurriedly added, "Um, Maistre, sir."
"Scott Hoying." Mitch rolled the words on his tongue slowly, testing the vowels, enunciating the consonants. He smiled and offered his hand to shake. "Hello, Scott. My name is Mitchell Coby Michael Grassi, leader of the Grassi tribe. Welcome to Nightshade Forest, the largest forest on all of Orbis. I agree to take you into the tribe to help cure your memory."
The baritone shook his hand (and resisted pulling him into a tight hug and sobbing on his shoulder. That was due for a later time) and said, "Thank you...um, Maistre, sir."
The brunette let go of their linked fingers. "Your memory of Orbis has been erased, and but you call me Maistre. Why?"
Scott glanced at Avi, asking silent permission. The bass nodded. "Avi told me to call you that." He paused, and then carried on. "I really didn't want my head to be chopped off, so I followed his instructions. Do I have to kiss your feet or something?"
Mitch stared at him for a moment, before he laughed. It was a happy, familiar sound, and coaxed a grin to grow on his face. "You're funny, zaffiro. No, you don't have to kiss my feet or anything absurdly similar. Did Avi tell you that?"
"Thankfully not, or else I probably would've believed him, Maistre."
Avi joined in Mitch's laughter. Even Scott smiled, blushing a little more. Okay, seriously, what was with all of the blushing?
When the two had calmed down, the countertenor announced, "Since you seem to trust Avi so fully..." Mitch looked from the bass to baritone and then repeated the process. "I'm putting you in his care. He'll watch over your progress in gaining your memory back and assist you when the time comes." He finally fully looked at Avi and snorted. "Don't fuck him up too badly. I like this one."
"As you have requested, Maistre." The man with green eyed bowed his head in consent, the corners of his mouth tilting upwards.
"Great." Mitch got a slightly distracted look to his face as he turned to gather the books he had set aside. "Now, if you'll get Scott situated quickly, you need to get your ass up here and help clean the mess that I made. Oh, it was nice to meet you Scott. Sorry for such an abrupt departure, but I literally dropped everything in my study and I need to fix what I broke." With a final nod, the singer left the room to go through the door he had exited from and closed the door behind him.
There was quiet between the two people left.
"That went better than I thought it was going to." Scott said, blinking at the closed door and wondering why it made his stomach sink.
Avi said nothing, shrugging at him and beckoning for the tall man to walk from the space and climb down the ladder. The journey down was silent save the clack of their shoes against the wood, and since Scott had gotten to the glowing grass first he waited for the bass to hit the ground beside him.
"Alright, Scott, this is going to sound like a lot because it is." A deep voice began. Avi gestured for the taller man to follow him as they started to walk again. Questions buzzed like bees around honey inside of the blonde's head, but he somehow managed to hold his tongue. "Like the Maistre said, I'm going to be your mentor-ish. I'll make sure that you get settled with someplace to stay, first of all. Mother of Sound, there's so much to do."
Tentatively (because his friend looked absolutely stressed out), Scott inquired, "Can't I stay with you in your house?"
This made Avi chuckle. "Though my house is almost as big as Mitch's and there would be enough room, only mates are allowed to share houses with a Maistre."
"Mates? What does that mean?""
"You'll learn more solmarrow, I promise."
"And what the hell does solmarrow mean? Is that some kind of farmer dating convention?"
Avi shook his head to hide his smile. "You're tired. You need sleep." They stopped in front of a another tree, though smaller than the one Mitch's house was built on, and the tiny aparetment-like residence on top was also small. "This is the house that Amethyst lives in, since she's new and hasn't gotten others to help build her own yet. It's where all of the newcomers stay."
"Oh." Scott was slightly intimidated by the prospect of having to share a house with that mystical girl. "So...this is goodbye?"
"You'll see me later; Mitch did tell me to look after you." The bassist gave one last kind smile. "I trust Amethyst to wake you solmarrow, so don't worry. Now, I need to get back to Mitch. Have a good luna, okay?"
The blonde didn't even bother to ask what a luna was. "Thanks for everything, Avi. Goodbye for now."
Avi waved and pivoted on his heel to walk the way that they had come. Scott sighed while watching him go, feeling alone. He climbed the wobbly ladder (noticing bite and scratch marks near the bottom rungs) and heaved himself onto the porch. It was still light outside, so initially the blue-eyed man didn't understand why the suggestion of sleep had been thrown his way, but after merely standing for a few seconds his tired body sagged. The rush of energy he had received earlier had worn off. Bed sounded nice.
Scott walked through the doorway, knocking first, and nobody responded. Oh, yeah. It wasn't even dark out. Amethyst was doing her own thing, whatever that was.
This was too much to process for one day.
Luckily, the house was only one room, so it wasn't hard to find the two bunk beds that resided there, set up next to three cracked dressers. It certainly wasn't as high quality as where Mitch lived, but it was much better than the mere floor. Much better.
Without checking to see which beds were and weren't occupied by others that were absent, Scott slipped off his shoes and plopped on a bed without grace.
Something in his vision caught his eye. A silver glimmer on his wrist.
The bracelet.
Tears wet his blue orbs when Scott realized he still had it. He still had it. He still had the bracelet given to him by Mitch and Kirstie. Kirstin, where was she? Was she in this weird world too? And what about Kevin? Where was his family, were they here too? What was a sol or a luna and why was Mitch the leader of a tribe and what did the word Maistre mean and why was he still here? What...why...
Pressing his lips to the miniature shimmering microphone charm, Scott's eyes closed and he fell headfirst into sleep.