Once again, a quick reminder to you readers: that you won't be seeing plenty of Alvin and the Chipmunks, as well as the Chipettes in the next few chapters, but plenty of action from the OCs instead.
Also, I want to give a big shout-out to my buddy Periosha, for helping to co-write this chapter, as well as giving his voice to two very special OCs.
Either way, I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I had writing their trials and tribulations. Happy reading!
Chapter 8: Passing Through the Lies
"You're hiding something from us, aren't you?" said Alvin.
"Am not!" Phelan filled his spoon with breakfast cereal. "For the last time, what makes you think I'm being so secretive?"
The red-clad chipmunk rolled his eyes. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because that's the fifth weird face you've pulled this morning. And Simon told me you've been in the bathroom far longer than he usually does."
"Alvin's right," said Theodore. "Now you're putting butter in your cereal and milk in your eggs."
"Guys, I'm not hiding anything, and that's that! Now, where did I put the pepper?" Phelan said, taking a swig of his orange juice.
"I hate to tell you this, Phelan, but it's in your juice."
Phelan's horrified reaction was to spit his mouthful of drink right at Alvin's smirking face.
Simon and Theodore roared with laughter.
"Eegghh... whassofunneh?" Phelan gagged, wiping his tongue ferociously with his paws.
Simon was in complete stitches as he looked at Alvin, who was now drenched in orange juice and wolf-like spit. "Our dear brother has been attempting to serve pranks for breakfast, and now it looks like he's just gotten his just dessert!"
"You should've been careful, Alvin. Remember how you pulled that trick on Dave last week, only Dave didn't fall for it because he was actually holding the pepper?"
The wolf-like chipmunk took a sniff of his half-full glass before taking a cautious sip.
"Geez, you know how to give a 'munk a heart attack," grumbled Phelan as he downed the rest of his juice, completely unaware of Theodore's crestfallen face.
"Don't take it too hard, Phelan. It was only a joke," the green-clad chipmunk patted his shoulder.
"Yeah, we only wanted to cheer you up," Alvin said, wiping his face clean from any remains of juice or hard feelings.
Seeing how cheerful his brothers could remain despite the aura of moodiness that surrounded him, Phelan felt something rise from his growling belly.
It was a slight pang of guilt.
"I'm sorry, guys. It's just that I've never been bothered by my senses before. I guess it's one of those feelings you can't get out of your system."
"Are you picking up something? Like a premonition?" asked Simon.
"I don't know," said Phelan as he returned to his eggs. "But it feels oppressive... like a shadow that's getting closer every second, or when the moon grows dark."
The way Phelan shaped his words brought an uncomfortable silence across the table. Even the smallest of shadows seemed to be lurking towards the chipmunks in an almost harmful manner.
"Is it the D-D-Darkness?" stammered Theodore.
Phelan gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Theo. I haven't heard a whisper from him since I kicked his butt back to Sorryland. Besides, he can't harm us anymore, remember?"
"Do you know when this danger's going to come and hit us?" asked Alvin nervously.
"It's safe for now. But I don't think it'll affect you or your brothers. Only me."
Instead of the relieved faces Phelan expected his brothers to share with him, there was an individual look of worry on each of their frowns.
"Look, we appreciate all that you've done for us, Phelan," said Alvin, starting to sound serious. "But don't you think it's time you stopped playing the hero and just think about the safety of yourself first?"
"What he's trying to say is, we don't want to see you getting yourself killed," said Simon.
"I-" Phelan started, but his voice was cut off by the sudden ring of the doorbell.
"I'll get it!" It was a good thing Alvin did, because Phelan felt that this conversation wasn't going to lead to a good start. He went back to his breakfast, but still perked up his ears to the sounds of his brother speaking in the hallway.
"Hey, ladies. What's up?"
"Hi, Alvin," came the voice of Brittany's. "Would you mind if we hang around here for a while? Miss Miller's just gone off for another bingo marathon, and we've got nothing to do back home."
"No problem! Come on in, Theo's already made breakfast!"
As the footsteps grew louder and closer upon reaching the kitchen, so did their voices.
"Where's Dave?" asked Eleanor.
"He left early for work. So it's just the eight of us?"
Eight? Phelan thought he heard wrongly, until he saw Alvin, along with the Chipettes. And standing there, right smack in the middle was –
"Hi, Phelan."
"Oh... Good morning, Maia."
The wolf in him disappeared, leaving him to feel more like a mouse than a chipmunk as he watched the girls sit right next to their counterparts, helping themselves to breakfast. He remained speechless as Maia sat by his side, patting his shoulder reassuringly. Phelan shuddered; her gentle touch was a sudden comfort to his tensed-up muscles.
"You alright?" she asked.
How could he not resist staring into those beautiful blue and green eyes? There was something special about them, from which surfaced the longing for a swim in those beckoning, tranquil ponds.
"Y-yeah. I'm fine, thanks." He offered her a clean spoon. "Do you like scrambled eggs?"
"Only if you do," Maia smiled.
They spent the rest of the day in the living room, too lazy to spend a day out, but they could always have fun indoors. Alvin and Brittany were sprawled out on the couch, watching TV while they cuddled in each other's arms. Eleanor and Theodore were discussing their latest recipes with great enthusiasm. Jeanette curled up on a nearby sofa, her eyes widening as she delved into her latest book.
And sprawled out on the floor, Simon and Phelan were pitted against each other in a game of chess, while Maia watched intently.
"You're down to your last castle and knight," said Simon, keeping an eye on his own white pieces. "With my queen and white-square bishop, I'll have you cornered in no time."
"Don't think I'll give up so easily," grinned Phelan, though he knew he was one step closer to losing this battle.
True to his word, Simon swept his queen mercilessly across the board, and in two moves, knocked out Phelan's castle and bishop; the mahogany-brown chipmunk's only chance of salvation gone. What he didn't expect was a sudden move by Phelan's black knight, forcing Simon into an unexpected check, to which he moved his queen aside, only for it to be taken by a silent pawn.
"How did you do that?" asked Simon, his mouth hanging agape.
"He's never lost a queen before," said Jeanette, peering up from her book to watch the game.
Phelan twirled the fallen white queen in his paw, looking at its polished sheen before turning to face Maia. "Sometimes, it's the huge sacrifices that must be made in order to win our battles," he said.
Simon smiled half-heartedly, but nevertheless he claimed the last pawn on the board. "That's the first time you've drawn me into a stalemate," he said, shaking Phelan's paw.
"You knew you were losing, yet you opted for a draw?" asked Maia as Phelan offered to put the pieces away. "Why did you do that?"
"Sometimes, you can't get what you always want, but that doesn't mean you can't try to make a change for the better. That is the true path of a warrior."
And while Maia may not have understood his words, yet deep down, his philosophical thoughts stirred her secret heart with a barrage of unexplained feelings...
The doorbell rang again, only this time it was a series of quick, repeated dings, as though somebody was jabbing the button on the other side.
"Did anyone order pizza?" Alvin asked, though he showed no signs of getting off his comfortable spot, and neither did Brittany.
Nobody else said anything, but whoever was ringing the bell, he or she seemed very consistent on doing so.
"I'll go," Phelan muttered, getting to his feet.
When he opened the door, he was greeted by an empty porch and the glaring silence of daylight.
"Hello?" he called out, peering both ways. "Whoever you are, this better not be some kind of prank!"
A sudden flash of light, bright enough to be noticed even in the early hours of noon, appeared from the left corner of the house. Intrigued, Phelan walked around to the back door, almost swearing that he'd seen a pair of chipmunk-like footsteps.
There, he found his mysterious guest, tapping an impatient foot.
Phelan crossed his paws, pretending to scowl. "You're late, you know that?"
"Speak for yourself! I go halfway around the country, then hear you've just come back. And you didn't bother to drop a line! If you ask me, you're way too early, bro."
Everything remained the same since their last meeting; the same silver robes, the same cheeky grin, and the same gentle heart beating under all those layers of hardcore.
Then both their grins melted into hearty smiles, and Phelan felt a tiny lump hardening in his throat as he reached out and wrapped his comrade in a warm brotherly embrace.
"It's good to see you again, Soron."
Despite the happiness at being reunited with Soron, Phelan knew this wasn't just your ordinary friendly visit. With powerful warriors comes hidden agendas, and yet there was something different about the hazel-brown chipmunk this time.
"You haven't changed one bit, Phelan."
But Phelan wasn't buying into his brother's spontaneity.
"Soron, what's been bugging you? And don't lie to me, because I can see it in your eyes."
His smile, no matter how cheerful it seemed, didn't appear to match his brown eyes. They were now the colour of a murky river, clouded with sorrow and pain.
"Let me help you again, Soron. What's the matter this time?" Phelan pressed his words carefully.
And he knew it wouldn't be pleasant to the ears before a tiny sob escaped Soron's lips.
"It's Grandma. She... she's dying."
About a year ago, one of their constant bickerings led Phelan to track Soron back into the forest where they'd both grown up. There, he watched in secrecy as Soron bonded with his maternal grandmother, the last remaining member of his family. For an elderly chipette who lived her whole ninety years in that forest, she took kindly to Phelan once he gave himself away and treated him like he was another loving grandson.
"God, I'm sorry," Phelan felt an overwhelming cloak of sorrow engulf him as he patted Soron's shoulder. "There must be something I can do to help…"
"It's her wish that you and I will be there when the time comes..." Soron paused, breaking off his words as he sighed. "I just wish it didn't have to happen so soon."
"We'll leave right now, if you want."
"What about your brothers? Surely they'll notice you've been gone for a day," Soron pointed out.
"They'll be fine. Plus, they're spending the whole day with the Chipettes. Trust me, what can't six chipmunks do out of boredom?"
"Fair enough. But what do we do about the snitch problem?"
"What snitch problem?" Phelan asked, but Soron was already turning to face the pile of shrubs growing at the back of the house, shouting out loud.
"I know you're here somewhere! Come out, or I'm coming after you on the count of three!"
Soron yelled "Three!" and shot an orb of light into the shrubs. It wasn't strong enough to physically injure a living being, but it caught Maia by surprise as she tumbled out onto the grass, completely dishevelled. She looked like a hungry lioness, itching to leap out and take her prey by the killing blow.
"Maia? What are you doing here?" Phelan raised an eyebrow.
The creamy-white chipette paid no attention as her temper rose at the sight of the sneering rogue who once called himself a warrior of the Light.
"You were always lousy when it came to stalking, Maia."
"Not as lousy as it comes to being trustworthy, Soron."
They both stared each other down with looks as sharp as rusted daggers, completely unaware that Phelan was still around. Or the fact that he was oblivious to their boiling rivalry.
"Oh, so you know each other?" said Phelan, breaking the silence. "Guess you just saved me from making proper introductions."
"I know him alright," Maia glared at the hazel-brown chipmunk, her paws clenched into tight fists.
"And who doesn't know Miss Brown Nose?" taunted Soron. "Prissy little princess who always wanted to be top of the class."
"How long have you been here?" Phelan turned to face Maia kindly, in the hopes of breaking up what seemed to be the gathering of a storm cloud.
"Enough to hear him pour out his sad story from start to finish."
"Well, no one asked you to interfere in my pitiful, screwed-up life, princess. Now if you'll excuse us, Phelan and I have to leave."
"Let me come with you," said Maia, taking a step next to Phelan.
"I don't need another vulture crowding around this misery fest," Soron spat into the grass. "Besides, what use will you do around her? She's not your family."
"And you're not a member of the Order anymore," Maia shot back.
"Soron, be nice to Maia. Please? She's only been here a few days and now she's making great friends with the Chipettes."
"Yeah, I'll be nice to her – if she's the last living chipette on earth."
It was bad enough to be in Soron's presence, and now she had to endure his sharp tongue.
Maia kneaded her forehead.
"Have you forgotten the code of the Order, Soron? 'Wounds heal when we serve, big or small.' Or are you so blinded by your stupid pride that you won't learn to accept help from anyone at all?"
Phelan was half-expecting Soron to reply with another insult, but after a few indecisive seconds, the hazel-brown chipmunk threw up his arms and groaned.
"FINE! But if my grandma dies on you, I'll wring your prissy neck!"
Phelan wasn't the only one who remained silent throughout the journey, but kept a close watch on both Soron and Maia, whose auras – even if they weren't clashing – he could sense were ablaze with hostility. He'd left Simon and Jeanette in charge, and when they asked why, Phelan mentioned a personal matter that needed to be taken care of, and left immediately.
They reached the rowan tree by late afternoon, and the forest had its own way of greeting the three chipmunks by revealing the hole carefully hidden at the base of it roots: dark, yet warm and beckoning; just the way Phelan remembered when he saw it for the first time. Soron went first, followed by Phelan, whose paw Maia held onto for safety.
Despite the blackness that engulfed the short walkway into the undergrowth, Phelan found his footing with the greatest of ease; his eyes already widening to let in the darkness. Behind him, he could hear Maia's hesitant baby steps, her grip tightening on Phelan's paw. She might not have seen Phelan's look of reassurance, but the chipette felt a gentle rub in return.
"It's okay, Maia. I'm here. No need to be worried."
Another few steps, taking extra care not to stumble over a few loose roots, then a right turn around the bend, and they reached the heart of the tree – the place Soron and his grandmother called home.
Soron was already there, helping the elderly chipette sit up on her wooden bed. Slowly, she stirred from her sleep and gazed uncertainly at her grandson. Perhaps it was just the dim light, but with her dull, lifeless fur and wrinkles under those cloudy eyes, she looked more tired than ever.
"S-Soron?" her voice croaked with weariness. "Is that you, dear?"
"Yes Grandma. Look, I've brought someone to see you."
Phelan knelt by the bed and embraced the elderly chipette. "Hi, Grandma. How you've been?"
He felt a warm, trembling paw stroke the furry tuft on his head. And to hear her speak just made him realize how far he'd been away from both homes.
"Phelan… It's been a long time, hasn't it? Who's the lovely one next to you?"
"This is Maia, a friend of mine."
He moved aside to let the creamy-white chipette sit closer as she reached out her paw.
"Hello there, ma'am," Maia smiled, extending a courteous paw.
Grandma greeted her with a paw shake, then chuckled feebly.
"Call me granny, sweetie. We're all part of a family, aren't we?"
It was a good thing she still kept her eyes on Maia, thought Phelan, otherwise she might have noticed the death glare her grandson was giving them.
"How are you feeling, Grandma?" Soron asked, keeping his emotions in check.
"Tired... I've been sleeping... all day long. My fur's not as bushy as I remembered, huh?"
"You'll be fine," said Phelan, giving her paw a gentle squeeze. "After all, you're the toughest granny I've ever seen."
"Aw... Philly," crooned Grandma, calling the wolf-like chipmunk by his pet name. "You're such a charmer. Don't waste it on an old girl like me. Save it for that someone special..." Her eyes glistened with a smile as she looked from Phelan to Maia.
Maia's cheeks turned bright pink. "We've just met each other, Grandma. It's not what you think."
But the elderly chipette gave her a wink that seemed to say, I know otherwise, dear.
Soron rolled his eyes as he folded his paws. "Just do what you have to do, okay?"
Both chipmunks watched as Maia felt the elderly chipette's pulse. She brushed her forehead lightly and smiled. "You just need lots and lots of rest, Grandma. A bit of sunshine and you'll be up and about in no time."
Maia made a brief excuse to stand up, then turned quickly to face Soron.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, out of the elderly chipette's hearing. "There isn't anything I can do..."
"Philly? Can I have a word with you, please?"
Without saying a word, Phelan widened his eyes in response, and looked at Soron, who gave him a solid nod as he walked out of the heart of the tree; Maia following slowly suit, making sure she was a good distance away from him.
Phelan guided and sat Granny to a make-shift recliner, made of reeds and small stout oak branches. He sat across her on a reed footstool, his paws holding onto hers as he looked at her intently.
"W-what is it that you wanted to talk to me about, Grandma?" he slowly asked, a feeling of unease rising through his words.
"Phelan…" she hoarsely spoke, her cloudy brown eyes looking deep into his. "I know you have been through much, and be that as it may, you feel that you should be the one whom I should be talking to…
"You thought it'd be Soron I was going to talk to, correct?" she asked with a weak smile.
Phelan felt his face flush as he slightly nodded his head in reply.
"I-I thought, you know… you'd like to talk to your family, I mean, your real family…"
Phelan looked up as he heard her giggle. Granny's voice, despite her age, was wrapped with so much warmth and wisdom, that Phelan felt absolute comfort as he sat next to her.
"I love Soron with all my heart. And as much as I wanted to talk to him, I'm afraid that after losing his parents, his tribe…" and she patted her paws gently on Phelan's, "And nearly losing you, his brother and best friend…" she began to sob softly as she took another breath to continue.
"He… transformed, into something else. He has turned into an avenger, something I feared he would become because of his seemingly endless grief. You know, despite the times he visits me, he always had that… look, in his eyes. His eyes were always burning with a passion, a passion to destroy the thing that killed his parents."
"But it was the Darkness that killed them, Grandma." Phelan replied disapprovingly, "And we both know that it'll be impossible to rid the world of it, and we both know that…"
"And did you think that that'll stop him from trying?"
At that, Phelan said nothing.
Granny sighed softly, slowly trying to lean up to him; Phelan, catching on, leaned down to assist; her mouth now close to his ear as she whispered something to him.
"If you look into even the deepest darkness long enough, you'll be able to see the light within its depths. And if you follow that light, it will lead you to its heart."
And then she sat back, and tried to stand. "Take me back to my bed, please, Phelan."
He helped Granny to her feet, and slowly, they walked back to the old bed. All the while, Phelan contemplated on his grandmother's words. What they meant was a mystery to him, and fate has cruel ways of revealing hidden messages.
As he coursed his thoughts for meanings to the message, he had already laid Granny on her bed, and covered her in a warm, bright tan, blanket.
"P-Philly…" she softly whispered, breaking his concentration.
"Y-Yes, Grandma?" he stuttered, trying to regain his focus.
"M... My time here in the forest will soon be over. You know that. And... even if Soron doesn't want to admit it... I know my grandson well enough."
She was silent once more as Soron and Maia returned, and as the three of them gathered around her bedside, tears of happiness rolled down her cheeks.
"I'm so happy," Granny whispered, "to see my family again..."
Outside at the base of the tree, Phelan and Maia waited anxiously. They wanted to give Soron some space of his own, since now wasn't the right time to be around a crosspatch like him.
"You sure he'll be alright?" asked Maia, her paws trembling.
"I hope so." There didn't seem to be the usual confidence resonating from Phelan this time. "He's taken several blows before, but this one's really closest to his heart. Heck," he paused, sniffing to wipe away some moisture in his eye, "it's affecting me too."
A rustling of footsteps stirred up a few dead leaves, and a figure emerged from the dark entrance.
It was Soron, but he wasn't the same hazel-brown chipmunk as before. His face was hidden from view as he stared at the ground, his tail dragging sullenly across the earth.
Dread gripped Phelan's heart. Gently, he approached the dazed chipmunk. "Soron, are you okay?"
When Soron looked up to stare at Phelan, his teary, puffy eyes were livid, but they were boring right through all that mahogany-brown fur; a look of hatred fixed on that accursed chipette who took a few steps back.
"Soron…" Phelan began.
"Get out of my way, Phelan," Soron growled.
"Soron!" Phelan said, a little sharply this time.
His words, however, fell on deaf ears as Soron was now a living mass of blind fury heading straight towards Maia, his paws ablaze with light.
"Soron, that's enough! Stop it!"
Phelan leapt forward, forming a live barrier between Maia and total destruction. What he got in return was his injured self doubled over on the ground as Soron punched him in the face.
Ignoring the stinging blow, Phelan staggered to his feet and threw himself at the raging chipmunk, screaming at the top of his voice to match the intensity of Soron's fists striking his chest over and over again.
"You leave Maia alone! IT'S NOT HER FAULT! She didn't do anything wrong!"
Phelan took it in as best as he could, blow after blow, until finally, Soron collapsed in his shoulders and broke down completely, bawling into the wolf-like chipmunk's fur.
"Sshhh... it's okay, it's okay..." Phelan whispered, rubbing his brother's back and pressing him closer for comfort.
"I – I lost..." The hazel-brown chipmunk's voice was lost in uncontrollable blubbers, his tears soaking Phelan's fur. "I've lost everything..."
"No, you haven't. You've still got me."
A part of Phelan had died along with Soron's grandmother that day, but as he kissed his brother's forehead, he couldn't shake the fear that clung to him like an entanglement of sinister tendrils.
Was this the oppressing feeling he'd experienced this morning?
Maia was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she'd just run away to escape his brother's wrath.
Phelan wanted to chase after the creamy-white chipette, to call out after her and tell her everything was alright.
But right now, Soron needed him, and he would fulfil his duty... as a big brother.
Maia didn't stop running until she came to the back of the rowan tree. Resting against the ancient bark, her breath caught in her chest with a series of pangs, followed by a cold sweat that shuddered through her creamy-white pelt.
As she peered around to watch Phelan comfort his mourning brother, it hit Maia like a dark cloud.
She couldn't keep up this facade any longer.
Every day that slipped through her fingers was just another mistake closer to blowing her cover. Now she had barely seen the face of death, and was certain she would've been next on the list had Phelan not stepped in the way.
Soron may have been a first-class jerk, but why was Phelan being so nice to her?
Why would he risk everything to save a nobody like her?
Then Phelan's words came back to haunt her, and they stung like a hornet's final blow.
She's a friend of mine. That's all there was to it. A friend of mine.
Feeling as though her heart could break no further, Maia sank to her knees and cradled her face in her paws.
The wall of grief she held within her burst like a dam, and Maia's body was wracked with her sobs, as helpless as the infant she once was.
Every tear that coursed down her cheeks, she cried for its own reason.
She cried for Phelan, who she feared would never know her true feelings for him.
She cried for Soron, who paid too heavy the price for her misunderstandings.
And she cried for Serenity, knowing that this mission was a failure – even before it started.
But most of all, she cried because every step she took led her to a dead end, and now she was trapped in a labyrinth of her own doubts. Never before had she felt this lost and confused.
Who was telling the truth, and who was the liar?
To Be Continued...
So, while we welcome back Soron, we say goodbye to another OC. I had actually intended to finish Soron's grandmother's story in the one-shot called The In-Between, but I'll get to writing that last bit of it real soon, I hope.
Keep an eye out for the next chapter, especially to those who have requested that I use their OCs to form The Black Arch. Needless to say, I don't have to tell you what's about to pop around the corner!
See you soon, and please don't forget to comment down below! :)
"Always trust in your stories"
~ Wind