"How did they break out?" Tessur asked for the umpteenth time. He stared at the cell, the door wide open showing the empty room. There was no tampering done with the lock or window. No hole dug through the ceiling or floor or walls. Not even a trace of foul play. There was simply no way for the griffon to have escaped.

"No clue." Anneis moved the door, examining it one more time. "Maybe they just slipped through the bars?" She stuck her arm through and waved. While her arm was almost the size of the griffon, he doubted that was what happened.

"Then why not do it months ago when we first threw them in there?" Tessur countered. He finally pushed off the wall and walked forward as well. The only way they could have escaped was if one of them helped. Which was impossible. Anneis was his valued partner, there was no way she'd do this, or even think of doing so. Lord Monochrome obviously wouldn't. Etihvv, even if he disliked them, was committed to their home world more than anything.

So the griffon must have picked their way out somehow.

Or the red cure helped. A frown etched itself onto his face. That was unlikely. After all, the two were in completely different cell blocks. Or, had been.

"Just shoot down all my ideas why don'tcha," Anneis said, retracting her arm.

"Only the bad ones, Anneis." Tessur reveled in the way she shot a glare towards him. "Now, who wants to tell Lord Monochrome the news?" At this the glare died. She minutely shrank back, crossing her arms. Of course she wouldn't. After all, she was the one who was supposed to be on duty. With a sigh, Tessur waved her off. "Fine, I'll do it."

Merle tapped her foot against the rug anxiously. She tried to focus on the articles she'd pulled up on her laptop, but her eyes just reread the same sentence over and over. Grif lay on her bed, still unconscious from yesterday. One of their wings was bent at an awkward angle, their back leg looked twisted, and some of their fur was missing. Overall they looked like a broken plush that was sewn together wrong. And that was just on the outside. What if there was internal damage? What if they had a concussion? Could griffons get concussions?

What am I supposed to do…? Merle hung her head between her hands, tears springing up once more. She didn't know anything medical besides applying Band-Aids to small cuts. The articles she pulled up weren't helping much either. From what she could read, if an animal got injured you were supposed to call a vet. A vet wouldn't be able to help a griffon. There was nothing about setting a broken limb or wing.

"What do I do?" She asked. Her hand found its way to the Pigment, shakily rubbing it. Unlike before there was no calming effect or flood of anything. It was just a stone that bit into her rough fingertips. "Why couldn't I be interested in animals instead of mechanics?" Merle cursed herself for not being more adept in the subject.

There was a faint noise behind followed by the rustling of sheets. "Merle?" A tiny voice called. She spun and was out of the chair in a second.

"Grif?" She knelt by the bed, careful to not jostle it. "Are you… are you okay?" Wow, what a stupid question. Obviously they aren't.

"I'm fine," they tried to sit up, but with a groan of pain settled back down. One brown eye cracked open, meeting hers. "I'm not fine."

"You have a… a broken wing and leg… probably." This was her fault. If she was a better Precure, this wouldn't have happened. If she took down the Dead-Color faster then Grif wouldn't have been hurt. Or maybe… she shook her head. Better to not go down that road. Not when there were more important things to do.

"Yes, I can tell," Grif said. "But what about you, are you okay?"

They were caring about her when they looked like that? When she was completely fine other than some bruises? "I'm fine, you need… to worry more about yourself." Not worry about her.

This drew a wheeze from Grif, thin and light. No, it was a laugh? They cracked open their eye once more, the wheezing laugh petering out. "I can worry about two things." With a wince, they continued. "But, I-I cannot go on like this. I'm…"

No. No, no, no. She couldn't lose them once more. Not when they just got back! Merle reached forward, hand hesitating over their shifting wings. "Grif."

"These injuries aren't permanent. I can sleep this off."

"That's… I don't think that's how it… works," Merle spoke slowly, the words tasting bad. She had tried the same tactic and it didn't work at all. Unless it was some griffon quirk.

"I'm the Guardian of the Pigments…" Their voice came out thin and quiet as if they were falling asleep once more. They certainly looked to be doing so. "With the… Pigments…"

The rest of the sentence never came. Grif had fallen asleep once more. Merle pulled away. Rubbing a finger along the sharp edge of the blue Pigment, she began to think. What were they going to say? Hesitantly, she pulled the necklace off. It lay heavy in her palm. This was the first time she'd taken off since she'd gotten it. It hadn't even left her neck when Clancy…

She gently placed the necklace beside their sleeping form. Perhaps they too could get some power from it. Maybe that was what they were trying to say. Merle fluffed the blankets making an oddly formed nest beneath their body. She was going to place a blanket over them, but decided against it.

Merle grabbed the other Pigment next. Or the shard. It was small almost half the size of her pinky. Green shone across her dark skin, shifting in small pinpricks no matter how she directed it. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, each one brewing like a storm in the forefront of her mind.

How was the Pigment broken? Were there other shards? How did Monochrome end up with it?

If there was another Pigment was there another Cure somewhere out there?

Merle shook her head and laid the Pigment shard next to Grif as well. Thinking like that wouldn't do any good. If there was another Cure out there, who said they would want to help her? Even she didn't want to in the beginning.

Or maybe they're already…

What was her problem? Merle stepped back, hands winding into fists. Why was she so morbid?

Just being realistic, a part of her mind whispered. Not morbid.

Most of the day was spent in silence. Merle constantly refreshed websites on her laptop, eyes unfocused and mind afar. She didn't dare pick up any tools for her robot for fear of accidentally yanking a finger off or burning a hole in her skin. Too many times had she burnt herself or accidentally caught her finger in something. It was a wonder she still had hands.

Finally the bell rang announcing dinner time. Merle was thankful to be leaving her small dorm room. She'd have to sneak something back for Grif. Maybe a yogurt? Could griffons eat yogurts? Or any human food? She didn't recall seeing Grif eating anything ever before. Usually they were with…

Clancy would know what to do. She'd fix Grif right up or wouldn't have let him get hurt in the first place. Her hand gripped where the Pigment usually lay, instead gripping the sweater vest of her school uniform. My neck feels weird now that I'm not wearing it. Fingers trailed up her sweater and past the black curls that covered her shoulders to her neck. There wasn't any mark that marred her skin nor any indention that said she ever worn the necklace. She thought there'd be something that imprinted. It had started a war, let her become Aero, but alas nothing.

"Merle, I'm glad you're here." Her thoughts were washed away by a slightly harried voice, one that was usually sharp. Sylvia stood in front of her, a tray full of fruits and salad held in hand. Dark purple smudges lined the bottom of her eyes making the usual brown pop out almost as if she were scared. Without asking, she set her food down and practically fell into the seat. "I was scared you were going to hole up in your room like the others." She exhaled a sigh of relief.

"Oh…" Merle couldn't stand being in her dorm due to Grif. Despite the bed being situated behind her, she felt like Grif was constantly in the corner of her eye. Or perhaps that was just her guilt manifesting. Morbid. Stop. She tried to focus on what Sylvia was saying, but was too tired to even try. She was emotionally drained as if a Dead-Color had sucked the emotions out of her. It was an awful feeling. If this is what the school felt like every week she couldn't blame any of them for what was said or done.

"Are you sure you're ok from the last… fainting?" Sylvia asked. Her fork made a little scraping noise as it was dragged back and forth across her tray. "I'm… I don't know why, but that last one really affected everyone more than usual and with your—" she stopped dragging her fork, instead looking up to Merle and hesitated momentarily, "— negative disposition, I thought I'd check up on you."

"I'm fine," she answered slowly, ignoring the jab at her personality. It wasn't as if it was something new.

Sylvia huffed and went back to her salad. "If you say so. Just know that if you need to talk then I'm here."

How many times was she going to say that? Merle set her fork down, the garlicy smell of spaghetti suddenly making her ill. Why did Sylvia seek her out every day and say the same thing. Was she lonely? Did she desperately need Merle to speak to her to validate some concern? To validate her duties? There was no point in talking to her. Even if Sylvia truly cared, and Merle was beginning to get the feeling she did, she didn't want to burden her. After all, how could Sylvia understand her?

"You said this one was worse?" Merle asked, measuring her words with care.

"Hmm? I mean, yes," Slyvia answered in a rush. "I don't understand, and I certainly cannot speak for anyone else, but… but." The fork clattered to the table forgotten. Sylvia's hands gripped the table hard, her already pale knuckles turning white. "I don't think, no, I know these aren't regular faintings. I think others have already realized this as well. But, last time. Last time made me certain." Her eyes flew from the table to Merle's, her gaze as sharp as jagged rocks. Something in that gaze struck Merle. As much as she wanted to look away, she found that she couldn't. "I know someone's causing this and they messed up last time."

What?

"Now it's only a matter of finding who this person is," she continued on, not really talking to Merle any more. "After all, I believe I saw them." She paused, her shoulders hunching forward. "Or someone fighting them."

What?

"And-" her mouth hung open before clicking with an audible snap. "Just ignore what I said." She buried her head in her hands. "It's just nonsense. No need to listen to what I said."

"A person? You saw… you saw someone?" That couldn't be possible. After all, Dead-Color's soaked the emotions out of people. It made them unaware of anything other than their own empty despair. So what was Sylvia saying? How could she have been awake for anything other than that?

Except… maybe it was the green fragment? Perhaps that…

"Well, saying someone was a little of an exaggeration," said Sylvia, once more throwing Merle from her thoughts. "When I had fainted it felt like I was still aware of my surroundings still. At least a little bit." Her words usually flowed with authority and confidence, however they slowed and lowered in volume to a conspiratorial whisper. She tapped her fingers along the edge of the table and avoided looking at Merle. "There was this flash of blue that kept moving. I could make them out of the corner of my eye." She laughed lightly. "You probably think I'm crazy for saying that. I think maybe I just made it up. I hope I didn't though." The last part was said as if an afterthought.

"Someone…" Merle's head was spinning. A blue flash. That was obviously her. "I have to go." She was barely aware of her own movements, mechanically picking up her food and stepping away from the large, oak table.

"Merle! Wait!"

She didn't hear anything after that as already she was rushing out of the cafeteria.

She had been seen! Merle didn't know what to make of the information. Didn't know how to begin to process it. How had Sylvia seen her?

She quickly narrowed the fragment to the only viable answer. It was the only new variable, the only thing associated with emotions and power. The hall hadn't been completely gray the last time, instead a washed out green. It must feed power back into those affected. Like with what Grif and Clancy want to do with the Land of Canvases. Merle stopped, her grip tightening on the stair's rail.

Before she could begin wallowing and throwing a self-pity party, she soldiered her way up the stairs and back into her room. It was the same as she'd left it; miserable and cold.

Except that it wasn't.

Tugging her jacket tighter around her body, Merle openly gaped. Grif still slept curled in a nest of blankets, her Pigment and the fragment hung beside their paws. Unlike before, they glowed in pulsating waves and cast color across the room. Merle's head craned to follow the light show across the ceiling and walls. Rings of bright blue spilled in ripples; green specks careened in any direction, bounced against the waves of blue, caught in its cast net.

In a daze, Merle held a hand out to try and catch some of the color. She pressed her palm flat against the nearest wall, watching as the rings passed over her skin. It was never the same shade, starting as the brightest blue she'd ever seen, like that of a summer sky, before progressively growing darker and darker till she was staring at the deepest ocean. There was a tingle like static each time a ring rolled across, a wisp of the softest fabric when the green decided to grace her. Unlike the blue, it never changed a shade, staying a bright green. Perhaps it was because it was a shard?

Merle could have stayed like that all day. She could have laid on her back and watched as the colors danced across, but pulled her hand away. The second she did, a sense of peace she didn't know she was feeling was cruelly yanked away. Like a punch to her gut, reality crashed in her head.

What if someone walked in? Sylvia might be on her way right now! She swung towards the Pigments, but instead of being tranced by their glow once more, felt a wave of unease well up. What would have happened if someone came into her dorm room and saw this? They'd scream and run and blame everything on her.

Before she could stop to think, her hand had already snatched her necklace up and away from Grif. The coil of unease untangled for a moment, left Merle wondering what she was so worked up for, but then the glow stopped. The last ring pulsed out, the color of Aero's transformation, and disappeared once it shrunk atop the ceiling. Gone with it was any fleeting peace.

How could she have been so foolish? Such an idiot? Leaving the Pigment unattended when a Dead-Color had just attacked! What if Tessur or Anneis decided to come once more? Or Monochrome? Merle's breath hitched, heart beating irregularly in her ears. Grif could have healed with the fragment, which had also stopped its light show, and been just fine. Possibly. Definitely. Fragment that it may be, it was still a Pigment.

A headache was coming on. Merle collapsed onto the bed and clutched at her forehead. She had to be more careful with the Pigments. Now that Grif was back, who knew what magical… hijinks might occur due to their proximity. They were never around unless Clancy was and the Pigments were never too close for a light show to happen. Exactly what that was also left Merle confused. But, before she could jump down the rabbit hole and try and deduce what the lights were, her headache spiked. It was as good a sign as any telling her to stop.

She flopped back and let out a groan. It didn't help that she didn't even eat. Sylvia and the fact she'd seen her had caught her too off guard. What I wouldn't do for a hot meal… I'm sick of breakfast bars… There was a half-empty box beside her bed, surrounded by wrappers that hadn't quite made it to the trashcan yet. Or a normal day. But, that was too much to ask for too. After all, the universe just loved to ruin Merle's day. It was karmic retribution for just existing. So, instead she rubbed at her temples, vainly trying to push the headache away.

Clancy laid on her back, watching puffs of white air stream towards the ceiling. White. Gray. Black. It was all she ever saw. Her skin had taken a grayish tone, losing the red flush underneath the brown. Her hair… well, it'd seen better days. Reflected better colors.

Her comforter laid loosely around her body. No matter how much she wanted to cocoon in it, wrap and hide beneath it, she didn't. What if one of the emissaries decided to kill her? After all, Grif had gotten away. The other shoe was bound to drop any time soon and she'd be hurt during fall. It was either she get hurt or Etihvv. Clancy's stomach rolled at the thought.

Etihvv wasn't her friend, they'd betrayed her, but they'd freed Grif. For what? For Clancy to stop hating them? She rolled onto her side, grip tightening on the blanket. The frigid air took its chance to fly beneath the covers causing Clancy to shiver. Freeing Grif wasn't going to suddenly flip a switch and make them friends again. That was utter nonsense.

But, Etihvv had freed Grif. Not her. A little voice whispered in her ear.

Grappling with the thoughts did little to ease her mind. These days, nothing did. She was stuck with them for company for hours on end after all. Perhaps, I'll talk to Etihvv when they come by today. Try and discern what's going on, Clancy thought. It didn't escape her notice that all outside information came from Etihvv. That simply meant she'd have to take all he said with a grain of sand. At least until someone else confirmed what they said. However long that would take. The other emissaries didn't bother her anymore. No talking, sneers, thrown food, or anything. Monochrome hadn't come by since that first time either.

Or, at least she thought so. Sometimes, heavy boots quietly marched down the prisons. It was never long, only mere minutes, but the sound always woke her. She was sure it was Monochrome. Ethivv's were light and sure-footed, and unless they wanted you to hear, you wouldn't be hearing them. Tessur's were quiet, but almost always accompanied by Anneis who's- of course- were loud, but more of a horse clopping than a march.

A horse. She certainly fits the picture, a cruel smile pulled her lips painfully. "Ouch." She licked at her chapped lips. Wouldn't Etihvv hurry up and come and get her something to drink? Or eat? Sitting up, Clancy's upper body collapsed over her knees with a sigh. Snow drifted down like lace from the only window and piled beneath, radiating cold. The Land of Canvases was completely covered in white now. Not due to Monochrome, but the feet of snow that weighed down the desert. Clancy couldn't be happy nor look outside long. Seeing her home blanketed in white…

Clancy had missed her home and yearned to return, but not like this. She shut her eyes and forced the anger down. All that being here did was make her yearn for the past. It was useless to do and all it made her feel was regret, but at least she was feeling something. The numbing cold infected her heart. Infected her emotions. Subconsciously, she gripped the comforter tighter and drew it closer.

She hoped Etihvv came soon.

Despite having the Pigments for so long, Grif still hadn't woken up. Merle sat beside the small griffon watching their chest rise and fall. They were asleep, or seemed to be at least. It's what she should be doing; lying back and relaxing after another day of worry, but Merle wasn't tired. Well, she was. Her body ached and her mind felt like a puddle resting at the bottom of her skull, but she refused to go to sleep. Instead, she rose as quietly as possible and leaned against the windowsill.

The moon waned above, the only sliver of light in the otherwise black sky. It didn't bathe the world in silver, not even close. Instead, the school grounds were shaded, the ground and sky blending into one long swatch of ink. It was hard to see anything and as Merle squinted, she thought she could make out the brown that made the school buildings, only to find she was fooling herself. It was as dark as the rest of the night.

The window opened silently, the metal sides cleaned and oiled ever since it was used as a quick getaway, letting in a breeze. Winter sharply bit her nose, minty and heavy. Despite the initial pain, Merle breathed deeply. She both loved and hated winter. It was too cold, too irresistible. It didn't call for her to come outside, instead pushing like the force of nature it was to stay inside, to stay in bed. It was in the winter months she lost all productivity and wallowed in her dorm. Exhaling slowly, Merle watched with heavy eyes as her breaths clouded and escaped the room. They dissipated quickly into nothing.

Instead of staring at the moon- it was silver, a painful reminder of Monochrome, but mostly Etihvv- she leaned forward to try and find the road that led out of Blackwell Academy. It was hard to find, a dark swipe in an equally dark field, but she eventually found the road and traced it towards the gate; to outside. Little squares floated stationary in the air, bright and yellow against the night. Despite it being so late there were still workers in the city, toiling away for what? Money?

Merle rested her head against the windowsill, the wood surface already frozen from the night air. The chill settled beneath her skin, spreading like a virus. Soon, winter break would be here. Everyone would be gone, reunited with their families after months of not seeing them, while she'd be stuck here. Just as her Mother had warned, she wouldn't be coming back into the country for a while. Her father wouldn't be either, another problem with work cropping up. As they always did. That was fine, if she left there'd be no one to defend against Monochrome, she reasoned. Blackwell would be defenseless and the people here would get hurt.

Even better, those leaving the Academy would be getting away from the Dead-Colors. Perhaps, they could find some peace of mind, peace of emotions, when they weren't getting snatched away every other day.

Then, after break, there'd be only semester left here. Merle would be off to college, a college she had yet to apply for. For not the first time, she wondered how long Monochrome would plague this planet. How long she'd have to fight. Would she be in her thirties and still having to run out into an expanding gray world, transforming into a Precure? Merle couldn't imagine herself as an adult, certainly not one that ran around in a short skirt and crop top.

Or, maybe she'd be dead next week and none of this would have mattered at all.

Morbid, the thought wormed around in her brain. Realistic, it fired back.

She couldn't just keep fighting every day, could she? One day she'd fail, fail worse than she already had. If Grif hadn't been there the other day she'd be dead. Everything would be lost. Millions of lives snuffed out and gray; sleeping, sleeping, sleeping endlessly as time marched on.

Merle exhaled and watched the clouds dissipate.

Dying terrified her. It truly, deeply, terrified her.

Worse was the fact that everyone was depending on her.

I'm tired. She pulled away from the window and shut it with ease along with any other thought. Her hands lingered on the metal, letting it nip at her calloused fingertips until she was sure she was feeling it. A small sliver of the moons cursed silver light curved along her hand, the elongated edge meeting the beginning of her scar. It was an ugly, jagged thing that slipped up her wrist towards her elbow. Merle slowly pulled away until she stood deep in the darkness of her room. No silver. No Emissaries.

Merle slipped into a hazy sleep. Her eyelids fluttered open each time she was on the precipice, stopping her and forcing an endless repeat of falling seemingly back through the mattress and down, down, down to the deepest reach of sleep. Once more with her mind hanging by a thread, she recalled something.

Ah… I have to give Sylvia… her stuff back…

Afterword: Slowly but surely I'm writing these chapters. I actually have had this written for a few months, but well, you know how it goes :3