Author's Note:
Hey, stranger!
Well, you've really done it now. You've clicked on it. This gargantuar of a fic. Chances are, you'll get cold feet at some point. You'll go through several transformations. You'll live out your entire life, and you won't even have reached chapter ten.
Thanks for reading this, by the way. Whether you're on FFN, AO3, or one of those hacked websites that copy-paste random people's fics, I love you. This is a safe space. You're very welcome here.
Disclaimers:
— In the Mother and Earthbound fandoms, the lead ship of this fic (Ness/Lucas) is quite contentious. Exciting! I like challenging myself by writing things I wouldn't usually write. However, I want to express that I obviously do not condone sexualising minors. Therefore, there will be no smut here. Pedos, that's your cue to close the tab.
— Assume No Canon. None of the canon from Earthbound/Smash Bros/Associated Franchises necessarily applies to this fic. There'll be some interpretations of canon, coupled with some whacked-up science, but empty your mind of all pre-existing knowledge.
— This work is rated T/Teen for discussion of some mature themes and instances of strong language. That means you must legally be thirteen years or over to be reading this. (I'm looking at you, twelve-year-old whose birthday is next week. Wait patiently. Or else.)
— Credit goes to Nintendo for characters, concepts, and several plot points. Credit goes to Leigh Bardugo, RainyTazmily and hollycomb (among others) for being constant inspirations to my writing. Credit goes to me for writing 500,000 words without passing out.
— Chapters will alternate perspectives. Chapter One will be Ness, Chapter Two will be Lucas, and so on. In special circumstances, there will be some portions from the perspectives of other characters.
Now, buckle up. Grab a blanket. Grab a year's supply of bread and that old jar of olives that's been at the back of your cupboard for a month. It's time to begin your quest.
Tonda Gossa, my friend.
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~~o00o~~
Count it Up: Part One (Open Here)
2nd January 1886
Dearest Master,
I was most grateful, most honoured to receive your last letter. The time for craziness draws ever nearer, and soon, this city will fall to your masterful plan.
Everything is prepared as you have so generously and intelligently required it. The man is in his prison; he is lucid sometimes, but I keep him restrained. I love how fragile you made him, Master. He is so fun to play with, so glorious to bend and taunt. I remember him as a child, when he was always
thought to be so much more. How glorious of you to finally put him in his place.
I have crafted the egg, the book, everything you require. Working for you in this cavern is fulfilment beyond what I could ever have imagined; to serve someone so mighty, to bring about such glory... it is my purpose, Master, I feel it so intensely. Nature will take its course, as you have commanded it. Your majesty will bring our heart's desires, and we will be fulfilled together, master and servant, repairing this shattered earth.
For our righteousness, above all, is what drives me. Frank Fly with his Sharks, he knows nothing of what it means to save. You are the path from greed, Master, the path that ends war, ends cruelty, ends hatred itself. This plan shall bring us everything; what you love, what you are owed, what we deserve.
The time will come when I, too, will succumb to your might, but until then, my lord, I will revel in your servitude. The game is afoot, and our works shall begin.
It's coming, Master, I feel it. It is all going to be yours.
You are the future of humanity.
- C.
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~~o00o~~
Chapter 1: Something Awful
(Ness)
~~o00o~~
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ON the last day of the Christmas Holidays, Onett looks like the worst place on earth.
Seriously. The leftover Christmas candles are burning low, the last of the melting snow churning down the guttering. The streets are alive with carriages and coloured lamps, and it all looks simply revolting.
The name's Ness. I don't fancy my city much. It's little to do with the scenery and more to do with everyone being poor, miserable, and hungry.
Except for me.
Well, perhaps I'm miserable. But my father is rich. He's the director of the local coal mining firm. Coal is the root of the Onetian economy, the driving heart of our industrial revolution, and my official least favourite fossil fuel. Because having a rich father is great for going to the nice out-of-town boarding school, but it's no good for being normal.
Normal is all I've ever tried to be. I'm a jack of all trades, a master of none. My life outside of school consists of studying, chores, and perpetual sameness. My life inside the school is manic, and it mostly consists of Lucas, my long-time dearest friend and favourite person. I'm only there because of Father's money, but I don't mind, because anything's better than slaving away in the public school. That's where they beat you, cane you, then hang you upside down from the roof. At least, that's what Tracy claims.
With that thought, I look out of my bedroom window. Lucas is so far away right now. His letters are neatly piled underneath my bed, and they contain fragments of him, but that's not enough. We do everything together. We've been through everything together.
Last night, I dreamt that he died.
I woke up in a cold sweat. His body had been there, right in front of me. I couldn't reach him in time, and some invisible force tore him to pieces. Everything was gone.
The moon shines lucidly in the sky. In the distance, a factory churns out plumes of thick, black smoke. Tomorrow, I'm going to see him again. Tomorrow, I'm going to escape Father.
I cannot wait.
Father is unpleasant, to say the least. He has high expectations of me, which usually involve several decades of studying and achieving things beyond my capacity. Talking to him is unheard of when he has the business to tend to and when there's work to be done. I'm told to make my own way in the world, because that's what I'm supposed to do, what every man does. Secretly, I relish the times when he's not here. I relish the hours when he's at the mines.
"Ness?"
Speak of the devil. I throw myself before my desk, wrenching open the nearest textbook, Differential Calculus: An Advanced Study.
"Yes, Father?" My voice comes out all feeble.
"Nothing of consequence. I only wish to make sure you are working."
His shadow disappears from the doorway, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Much of my studying doesn't get done, because I'm a chronic daydreamer. Focusing on one task is next to impossible — I prefer to take things as they come. After all, Lucas is the more learned of us. He's also the subject of most of my daydreams, along with food and that idea of having a 'successful future,' one of those financial paradises with the wife and children. It's one of those things. A societal thing. It's what I'm supposed to want, isn't it?
I don't quite know.
Tracy's my sister, my polar opposite, and a tom-boy. I don't see her being the kind to follow traditions, learning to cook and clean. She's jealous of me, actually — "Why did you get to be a boy? I want to be a boy!" she said to me once, in a moment of anger. But we're close, so there are no hard feelings. She does as she pleases, and secretly, I have a lot of respect for that.
...There's also a Thing.
About that wife and children. Forget it. Father often asks me why I don't have a girlfriend, why I'm not out 'courting' at school. It's a source of considerable tension. But there's a reason, a problem that makes the subject so hard.
I don't quite know how to word it.
I feel different, I suppose. Not like one of those revolutionist types, but inside, with my thoughts. I see all the girls at school, and I try to make myself think the right thing. I try to say that they're really nice, really attractive, but… I don't feel it.
I don't know what is wrong with me.
I haven't told Father. He'd be angry, and I'd get hurt. But what else can I do? Resign myself to a life of unhappiness, just to please him? I don't like to think about it.
I'm busy pretending to read a paragraph on Differential Functions when Father appears in a rage.
"You said you'd stopped sneaking out!"
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Standing on the railway platform the next day, I curse my rotten luck. It had been the maid. She reported me after Father promised her a pay rise. It's awful, tiptoeing so carefully around Father, only to get caught when I let my guard down. But no matter, it's school time. Lucas time.
Lucas is a strange boy, but I suppose I am too. He's a titchy thing, vertically challenged at five foot five, while I'm more average at five foot nine. Despite being minuscule, Lucas somehow manages to be the dominant one in our friendship, all while scarcely saying anything. I'm quite good at reading what he's thinking, but it sometimes feels like those bright blue eyes stare right into my soul, like I'm an open book. Then again, I suppose I don't hide how I feel about things. I'm as blunt as anything, and I wear my heart on my sleeves.
A hearty black locomotive rolls into the station. Tracy and Mother get a hug, and then Father gets a tip of the cap before I'm caught up in the swell of excited passengers. Villager rushes by, Mega Man, Nana, a sea of familiar faces, and I laugh, suddenly all too excited to be going back.
"Ness!"
And there he is.
"Lucas!" I exclaim, beaming as he tumbles into me.
"How are you?" he asks, too hurried for my liking. Already, I worry something is wrong.
"All right," I say, but he points at my eye.
"You're hurt. Who did that?"
"Oh, that was me, I walked into a beam," I say, carrying all the elegance of Professor Bowser after a long night's drinking. Lucas looks doubtful, but he knows better than to press further. We know each other's boundaries well, thanks to the unfortunate sequence of trial and error.
We bustle on board the train, fighting to secure a compartment. Father doesn't let me see Lucas throughout the school holidays unless he comes directly to our bungalow, which means I'm well-acquainted with him appearing out of nowhere. This means Lucas's house is forbidden, but I think Lucas is happier with that arrangement. He always carries himself nervously when talking about his family. The one time I did visit, I met his silent father, and his mother and brother had been away.
Predictably, Lucas ducks into our compartment as quickly as possible. Some people at school are cruel to him, and I'm often able to deter them, but Lucas has always been timid when he's alone. "Ness," he says, gasping for breath once the door is shut.
"Lucas?"
He topples onto the seat. I catch him, concern rolling through me. But he opens his eyes, cracking a small smile.
"I missed you."
"I missed you too," I say, relieved. Lucas is back. The winter term is coming, and it's going to be wonderful.
When we first met, it was unusual to say the least. Lucas had recently transferred from Tazmily to Onett Primary and, truth be told, he looked an absolute state, worse than any of the other working-class boys. I remember seeing him in the corridors and thinking to myself, that is one lonely boy. I was shyer back then, so I did not have the nerve to talk to this strange boy, especially with the whispers that circulated. "He's from the land of the enemy," they said. "The dirty kid from the wrong end of town."
I suppose I noticed the same groups harassing my friend, Toon Link. Toon Link is a real gem; he used to be quiet, but he's evolved into the most boisterous, troublemaking menace of all time. But what finally drew me and Lucas together was when a group advanced on him after he got his lunch. It seems rather insignificant looking back, but that look of hurt on Lucas's poor face when they slammed his tuna sandwiches to the ground, cackling like witches, annoyed me to no end. I don't know what made me do it, but the next thing I knew, the tormentors were in the nurse's office, I was on an anger management course, and Lucas was sitting at my lunch table.
My new concern is that Lucas doesn't seem to have any possessions with him. His clothes are dirtier too, with a rumpled white button-up shirt tucked into brown, shabby shorts, and long grey stockings coming up past his shins. His messy blond hair is thrown about his head like a broom, and his turquoise-blue eyes shine a little duller than usual. There's no big suitcase of luggage, only a tiny pack.
"Lucas, where are your things?" I frown. "Did you leave them on the station, you goof—"
"I don't have much at the moment." He averts his eyes. "I sold it all."
"Sold it all? Uh, why?"
"Father needed the money to pay the rent. I needed money to come to school." He says it so matter-of-factly, but he still looks down at his feet. Keen to be a good friend, I sling an arm around him.
"Don't worry yourself, Lucas. I have spare things."
But apparently, it's the wrong thing to say, because Lucas stares directly at me. "Ness, you know I don't want your charity."
My face falls. It's unfair that he has to live like this. Why is he stuck in the run-down First Residential District when I'm sitting pretty in one of the biggest bungalows in Onett? I once asked Father if he could give Lucas's family some money, just so they could get by, but I was met with a smack and a warning to know my place. Lucas wouldn't want to take handouts anyway, I suppose.
I know his family doesn't treat him right, though. The number of times he's run into my house visibly upset, shaking, scared... and he spends time trading on the street, too. I don't know whether that's of his own accord, or if he's made to do it, but it's not right. I've often considered getting a job in one of the big factories, just to earn a little money to help him out, but I worry Father would lash me alive for working like a pauper boy.
"Seriously, Lucas." I pull out one of my jumpers. "It's freezing, take this. You mustn't die before we've even got there."
"Fine," Lucas grumbles. "But only for you."
That's the spirit. As he pulls it on, he looks significantly less shivery. In fact, it is awfully cold on this train. Colder than usual, almost as though something is wrong. Mother is superstitious; she'd be worrying this was a sign of a bad term to come, but nothing strange has ever happened at Onett Boarding School, and I doubt it will today. Having almost certainly cursed us with this thought, I start to think of nicer things, like warm beds and desserts in the dining hall. Since it's winter, they'll have lit all the gas lamps in a weak effort to heat us up. It's bitterly cold at this time of year, not least because we're in North Eagleland, where all the frost in the world decides to congregate on long January nights.
I'm only shaken out of my reverie by a clap from a professor, announcing it's time for lunch. I get out my salted beef and cheese sandwiches, but it's hard to miss Lucas not getting anything out at all.
"Where's your food?" I ask. Lucas mumbles something incoherent, and I sigh. "Look, have some of mine." I cannot believe this. I hope he's been eating properly back at his house. They'd better not be starving him again — one time over the summer holidays, Lucas let slip in a letter that he hadn't been able to eat in days. Even worse, it was my fault — I'm not sure his father approves of me, though I'm not sure why. I think his name is Flint, all I know is that he works for my father's coal mining business, and apparently, when he caught Lucas sending letters to me, Lucas had been forced to go a week without food. So, I instantly raided my kitchen, asked the cook for some supplies, and sent over a box of things for him to eat. He's always been a skinny boy, while I'm a bit softer around the edges.
Suddenly, there's a crash from outside, and Toon Link hurries into our compartment.
"Hello!" he shouts, doubling over behind a table. "Nice Christmas? I'm on the run!"
"From the law?" Lucas worries.
"Just old Bowsie," Toon Link says, trying and failing to look innocent. He has a particular look about him, one that always suggests pandemonium is coming. "I tried to snap his entire cane collection. I think he noticed."
There's a distinctive roar in the distance.
"Nice try," I laugh. "Upon your death, we'll remember you as a hero."
"I wasn't planning on dying," he says, pulling a bag in front of him. He grins. "Thanks for the moral support, though."
"OPEN UP!" someone yells, and I jump. I throw open the compartment door, where Bowser is standing in a rage.
He looks about as monstrous as ever. His face is rounded, but in all the wrong places, as though several boils have encompassed his cheeks and chin. From beneath his top-hat there springs a crude slice of reddish hair, standing alongside a pair of wicked, hornlike ears. He snarls, and I force a smile.
"Good day, Professor," I say, tipping my cap.
"Where is he?" Bowser bellows.
"Who do you mean?" Lucas asks.
"You know who I mean. Toon Link!"
"I'm afraid he's not here," Lucas says, perfectly poker-faced. "He did come by, but I believe he went past us."
"Hmmm…" Bowser puts a meaty hand on his chin. He's rather gullible, so he doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary. "All right. But if I find you're lying, there'll be trouble!"
He marches away, and I feel myself easing up. I'm glad Lucas took charge. I'm quite a dreadful liar, but he's great at getting us out of tight situations. He has an honest gait, I think. He could say anything and I'd believe it.
In a way, it makes me wonder if he's ever lied to me. I'm the opposite, I cannot keep a straight face, and I tend to make the most ridiculous excuses for things. While I'm an open book, Lucas tends to be very much closed.
"It reeks down there," Toon Link says, emerging from under the table. "What've you been doing in here?"
"Nothing weird," I say, reddening. It's my sandwiches, which I stowed away when Bowser came in. Bowser has a habit of stealing food from vulnerable boys like Lucas.
"A likely story," Toon Link says, already opening the door. "Anyway, thank you for the cover. I've got appearances to keep, see you around!"
With that, he dashes off. Lucas sighs a little, leaning back against the seat. His cheeks look paler and bonier than last term, and I start to worry some more.
"Lucas, please get some food into you," I say, passing over my box of sandwiches. He gingerly takes one, nibbling at it. Good.
I take the chance to look out of the window, where the trees are passing by in a blurry haze. Aside from the general countryside green, it's difficult to discern much, but I've always loved nature, all kinds of beautiful plants, rivers, and animals. When I was younger, Mother would take me on walks through the local forest, and I'd pick the flowers, giving them to her as a present. She'd pin them onto her sundress. But one day, I came back from primary school to find that Father's mining corporation had sectioned off my favourite trail, because they'd discovered a coal deposit underneath. I'm not proud to say I threw multiple tantrums.
"Snow," Lucas says suddenly, and I blink. He's right. We push our noses up against the glass to watch the snowflakes, twisting and twirling their way down. Snow is behind some of my best memories — snowball fights with Lucas are always great fun, he's easy to beat and fun to tease. Or, he used to be, until last winter when he turned me into the next incarnation of the yeti.
"Round two of Snowball Massacre?" Lucas asks, nudging me.
"I don't think so," I say. "I've been practising, you see."
"We'll see about that," he says. He has a lingering smile on his face.
"Just what is that supposed to mean?"
He grins, but he doesn't say a word.
With our sandwiches polished off, the train continues towards our destination. We're going to be served a 'premium dinner' later on, which I'm certainly ready for. Homemade sandwiches are all well and good, but they're not anything too special. Plus, Lucas still needs some fattening up, and I'll be sure to make him eat everything on his plate.
Lucas sees my grin.
"Something the matter?"
"Food," I moan, before snapping to attention again. "Uh, I mean—"
Lucas loses it. Sometimes, he'll find something so funny that he'll laugh about it for hours. Once, I made some joke about Professor Shulk that had Lucas in tears, even the next day. I don't understand his sense of humour at all — he doesn't laugh much, but when he does, he laughs big.
The door opens and Red and Villager come in. Villager's another good friend of ours, usually the acting mother of the group, often having to neutralise Toon Link's chaos. We met in history class, bonding over some jokes about Ryu, our History professor. To be fair to Professor Ryu, he's a perfectly nice man, but History is so incomprehensibly dull that I can scarcely take it in. I think Ryu has a penchant for magic as well, which is strange, seeing as magic has been outlawed since the iron age. Also, whenever he sees me, he looks as if I just told him his mother died.
Red, on the other hand, keeps us in line. He's interested in books and following the rules, possibly Toon Link's antithesis. He and Villager are a sort of duo, since they went to the same primary school together, while Lucas, Toon Link and I slaved away at Onett Primary. We congealed into our quintet somewhere around the first week of boarding school, but it doesn't really matter how it happened. We're all just relieved to have this constant in our lives.
"All right?" Red asks politely, sitting opposite me. Lucas tries to calm himself down from the laughter, but he ends up choking. Villager thumps him on the back, before taking a seat himself, tipping his cap at us.
"Are you okay?" Villager asks.
"Yes, I'm good," Lucas splutters, going crimson.
"Evidently," Red says. Villager smirks.
"What d'you do to him, Ness? He's coming apart."
Lucas bursts into another fit of giggles, and I sigh. "I'm not quite sure."
"He's too far gone," Villager says. "You'll never get him back."
"Wake up," I say, giving Lucas a prod. "You're slipping away. You're dying."
"Am – fine—"
"Anyway, I brought cards," Villager continues. "Poker, anyone?"
"Great plan," Red says firmly. "Very much acceptable."
Villager deals for four and we play. Villager wins. The train gives a hearty puff of smoke, the wheels clattering as we trundle along.
"Fancy that, it's Villager and Reddy," Toon Link says, appearing again. He grins, sporting a fresh mark on his face. Bowser cackles in the distance.
"How'd it go with dearest Bowser?" Villager asks.
"Oh, divine. Lovely fellow, always said so." Toon Link says, sitting down next to Red. "Struck me on the face with a cane, quite sure that's illegal in at least seven countries, but I'm all right."
"Aha!" Red points. Generally, he's not Toon Link's biggest fan. "You were behind all the ruckus in the corridor."
"You know me too well," Toon Link says, beaming. "It was for the greater good, I promise. Bowser's just blind to reality."
"I don't trust Bowser," Lucas says quietly.
"Nobody does. Have a nice Christmas break?" Villager asks us. Red shrugs. Lucas looks at his feet.
"It was fine," I say. Despite many of my Christmas gifts being clothes and textbooks, it's still nice to receive anything at all. I know Lucas doesn't have many extended relatives around to give him gifts, so I was sure to buy him some brand-new art supplies. He's an incredible artist, and painting and science are his two greatest passions. Lucas has painted since he was a child, usually focusing on landscapes and sunflowers. I could watch him go at it for years.
Surprisingly, Lucas scraped together enough money to buy me a present, too. He got me books, but fascinating books, ones on the possibilities of illegal magic being real. I've got no clue which back alley he found them in, but I'm certainly grateful. He knew my father wouldn't allow me anything fun, so he pulled through as best he could.
"My Christmas was fine," Lucas says, giving me an I'll tell you later look.
"Well, my Christmas was dreadful," Toon Link says cheerily. "Mother and Father had a row, and my little brother cried about the cranberry sauce. Then, I burnt the goose and got beaten."
I wince. I hate getting beaten. I get beaten if I'm not studying enough, and it stings for days. But I deserve it, I suppose. I don't know if Lucas gets similar punishment, but the thought makes me convulse.
I hate anyone and everyone that hurts Lucas.
Soon enough, the conversation runs dry, and we agree to rest until dinner. Red, Toon Link, and Villager retire to another carriage, and Lucas moves to the other side of the table. I'm glad to be sleeping in the same compartment as him — it's comforting to have my closest friend there in case of any monsters.
Lucas is what I like to call a clingy sleeper, curling up around anything and everything when he's not awake, so I throw him a blanket, and he falls asleep quite fast. I lie there a little longer, watching him slowly move up and down, then gazing out the window as the snow flurries by. It's covering the tops of the trees now, along with some of the pretty little houses. One snowflake comes to the window, landing, melting into a little...
I'm running through a snow-covered forest. My hands are ablaze. The trees are burning all around me. It's my fault. My fault! Words are ringing through my ears. The snow is melting. Perhaps if I run from the fire, it'll be okay, but I fall, I trip, a root, a stray root, and the fire is catching up; it burns so brightly, there's an almighty CRACK—
"Ness!" Lucas shouts, and I shoot up, stars flashing in my vision. I flail, and then he's there, next to me. My chest stiffens with worry, the image of fire dashing through my mind, the recurring nightmare. I hear loud breathing. It's mine. I don't know where I am. Lucas tightens his hold. I hadn't even noticed he was holding me.
I open my eyes, and it strikes me how dark it's become. I'm under the table, which I must've hit my head on. Outside the window, night has fallen. I must've been asleep for quite a while. But wouldn't the gas lamps have been lit?
I sit up, and Lucas lets go of me. I wish he hadn't, because now I can feel a chill in the air. And silence. Why is there silence?
It takes me a while to realise the train isn't even moving anymore.
"What is happening?" I ask. Lucas shrugs.
"The train stopped. The gas lamps blew out, all at once. Then you started your nightmare." There's a touch of fear in his voice.
Taking initiative, I stand, opening the compartment. There's the striking noise of matches and a distant muttering. It sounds as though someone's trying to light the gas lamps.
"It's not working..." Professor Ryu murmurs, his voice low and concerned.
"It should work," Professor Wario snarls. "C'mere, give it to me!"
I sneak out a little further, peering through the gloom. Lucas grabs my hand, appearing beside me, his breaths coming short and sharp. The match strikes again, to no avail. It flickers in the distance, falling to the floor.
"D'you know what's happening?" Villager whispers from behind me, and I jump.
"I'm not sure."
"I don't know where Red's gone," Villager says shakily. "Or Toon Link. I just woke up, the compartment was empty, it was dark—"
He's rambling.
"Look," Lucas murmurs behind us. He's back in the compartment, staring out the window. It's hard to see much in the darkness, so I press my face up against the glass, squinting through the snowstorm. A spiral of rooks scatters from a nearby roof, sending flurries of snow into the darkness. The forest is black and foreboding in the fading winter's light.
Lucas grabs my hand, suddenly, abruptly. A chill runs down my spine. Not much scares Lucas, but something's—
"AAAAGH!"
A face slams against the glass. It contorts, writhing, its mouth open wide. The face is visceral, hellish, and all at once, inhuman terror explodes through me, and I'm crying out, falling back. There's a bang, but it's there, red eyes gleaming, blood dripping, grime smearing. It stares into my soul, terrible, my insides burning with fire, unquenchable heat. Stars fill my vision and it grins, inciting me, alluring me, drawing me in; I want to be like it; I want to praise it, worship it, revere it, be everything, everything and more, everything building, building, building—
Then it's gone, and my breath falls short. I tumble down, and it disappears, just a vague figure in the snow. Suddenly Lucas is next to me, clutching me tight. I don't know what I've just seen.
A slam comes from up above. Knocking. It has to be knocking.
"It's here!" Lucas yelps. Cold dread fills my stomach.
The slam rings out again. I press back against a seat, every nerve alive in blind terror. My hands tremble with anticipation.
But a swarm of professors comes dashing in. The noise abruptly stops.
"What is all the shouting?" Bowser shouts.
"A - A face," Lucas stammers, too frightened to even tip his cap. "It's — it was knocking — it was on the roof!" He pales under Bowser's intimidating glare.
"Do you expect us to believe that?" Professor Wario growls.
"A phantom face?" Professor Ryu folds his broad arms. "Boys, you must be seeing things. It's dark, I know. But don't be foolish."
"We're not being foolish!" My voice quakes. "It was there, we both saw it!"
"Boys," Professor Rosalina says calmly, her expression sympathetic. "We mustn't shout at one another. The driver will be along shortly, he'll explain what is going on. Professor Marth is getting him now—"
"AND NO MORE LYING!" Bowser bellows.
"Professor Bowser," Rosalina says. "We have other business to attend to. Please calm your temper." She exits the room, and the rest of the professors follow. Lucas stares at me, his eyes wide.
"You saw it, right?"
"I saw it, yes—"
"I'm — what do you think it was—?"
"I don't know." I shudder, its terrible visage flashing back through my mind. "I don't know at all. I hope the train starts moving soon."
"We'll be okay," Lucas says, taking my hand for the second time this journey. "It was just an animal, or an escaped prisoner, or something else…" He trails off. I gulp. We both feel it.
We both know that's not true.
A shout comes from the corridor, and I jump, but it's the driver.
"Track's just blocked by snow, everyone. We'll be moving again shortly."
But gentle murmuring comes from all around the train.
"The lamps, I saw them, they…"
"I heard somebody scream…"
"Why's it so cold?"
"We need to find Red," Lucas says suddenly. "And Toon Link. And Villager. They went away."
I hastily nod. I'd forgotten about them. I lead Lucas out to the corridor, and we almost run right into Professor Ryu.
"Aha! Ness, Lucas, can I talk to you?" he asks, leading us back into our compartment without waiting for an answer. Lucas and I exchange a tremulous glance, but we follow him inside.
"What is it?" I ask.
"An important matter," Ryu says, sitting himself down. I've always thought he'd be better off in the army, with his weathered, war-like countenance and broad, herculean shoulders. "That face you saw, could you describe it for me?"
Lucas and I exchange another glance, and then we burst into rambles.
"It appeared out of nowhere—"
"It was horrendous —"
"Like a phantom—"
"Its teeth—"
"Eyes—"
"Horrible."
"Awful," Lucas says, and I move a little nearer to him.
"All right," Ryu says, holding up a hand. "This face... I shouldn't worry about it. It was likely a hallucination. I'd advise not to spread it around, though. You know what people think of magic these days."
But he has a worried look on his face.
When he eventually exits, Lucas and I get up, leaving the compartment once again.
"Villager?" Lucas calls, timid. "Toon Link? Red?"
"Ness! Lucas!" Toon Link says, manifesting beside us. The others appear in his wake.
"Oh, thank goodness." I breathe a sigh of relief. "Where on earth did you go?"
"Well, Villager was asleep in our compartment," Toon Link says, "Which meant it was time for some mischief. But then all the gas lamps went out. It was quite scary."
I glance at Red. He looks unsettled.
"So, I woke up alone and ran into the others..." Villager says, putting the pieces together.
"Does that mean everyone's okay?" Lucas asks timidly, and Toon Link laughs, lifting the tension.
Professor Rosalina strikes another match, and a warm tongue of fire illuminates the corridor. Soon enough, all the gas lamps are blazing again, and there's a cheer from a lot of other students when the train starts accelerating. Lucas's shoulders seem to soften a little when we sit back in our compartment.
"Ness, what d'you do to that?" Villager asks, looking at my black eye.
"Well," Toon Link says, whistling. "You've messed that up."
"I walked into a beam," I lie, not having the energy to be honest.
"Ness, if you were any clumsier, you'd fall off the planet," Toon Link says. I do not gratify him with an answer.
The snow starts easing off outside, but it's still freezing, so I dig out a blanket for myself, making room for Lucas to join me. The train hurtles on, and soon, it's time for the alleged premium dinner. And premium it is! Plates of beef, roast potatoes, vegetables, the lot, are brought to each of us in turn. I tuck in instantly, of course, because it's delicious. Everything is delicious; suddenly, life is great.
"You're fast," Red observes, spearing a potato. "You'll get stomachache."
"I'm talented," I correct. "I'll get nothing of the sort."
"Remember the pancakes?" Lucas says, and I wince. Last February, I stuffed in about twenty pancakes and promptly threw up.
"At least I'm eating," I say, prodding him with my fork. "Why are you so slow, munchkin?"
"There's not much to eat at home," Lucas says, matter-of-fact again, and his eyes flash with an emotion I cannot quite detect. "I got used to it."
"Well, get un-used to it," I say, but Lucas doesn't smile. I feel my heart sink. "Sorry."
"It's okay," Lucas says softly.
Red starts talking about vegetables, and the bland conversation meanders through the rest of dinner. By the end of it, I'm longing to be left alone with Lucas, so we can just share in silence. It's another wonderful thing about our friendship, sometimes it's as though we don't even need words to communicate. Lucas is naturally secretive, but sometimes, he'll share his secrets with me. It's a sort of understanding we have, that we don't have to tell each other everything, but we can tell each other anything.
We finish dessert just as the train rolls into the station. Toon Link grabs the suitcases rather too hastily and manages to strike me in the head with one, enough to leave a decent bruise. I glower at him, Lucas consoles me, and we take ourselves outside, where the snow is above my shoes. Which means it's cold, damn it.
The cold doesn't stop Lucas from throwing a perfectly rounded snowball at my face.
I turn and I grin.
He's not getting away with that.
A/N
Congratulations! You did it! Only several more of those to go!
Thank you so much for giving this fic a try. If this is where you jump ship, that's perfectly okay. However, our next destination will be Lucasville, and the tickets are completely free.