Summary: The team that was supposed to Rayshift in Salem was supposed to consist of all familiar faces. People that the Master could trust. It only takes one great witch infiltrating on a whim for things to change and for a little sparrow's heart to break. The great witch realizes this a bit too late, just as the little Master's forest hunter is hurt under her watch.

Note: This was inspired by (1) the intense emotions I felt when having an open, tearjerking, very hard heart-to-heart with my father over his tendency to yell out his concerns through blunt criticisms over the past 20-some years I've been alive and (2) the recently translated chapter 22 of the Salem manga adaptation (as of this note's writing on October 13, 2022).

Reflecting on myself hasn't exactly been easy when I don't know where to begin with what I truly like about myself, but my family's nonetheless been a huge part of who I am. Least I can do is try to make myself better for them, even when it's through writing fantasy stories to better cope with how unfair reality can be.

The theme for this chapter is the original rendition of Mirror Mirror from the White Trailer that came out for RWBY in 2013. You could even pull out Ice Queendom's version of the song done by Japanese VA Megumi Toyoguchi for this as well. For an alternative, I recommend Moon and Bouquet by Sayuri, the ending from Fate/Extra Last Encore.

Oh. Content Warning for MASSIVE Salem spoilers by the way. You've been warned.

Otherwise, here we go.

Day 45: Mirror Mirror

Circe knew going into Salem was a risk. She was a Rogue Servant — she had no loyalty to the facility that somehow summoned her. But seeing her niece in Medea be cordial and kind to someone other than her Jason was interesting enough. Salem itself served as the perfect opportunity to figure things out. To unravel the mystery that was Chaldea and its only human Master. Bits and pieces of conversations she could hear barely amounted to much — worries like, "Is she sleeping enough?", "Did she eat something before going into the simulator?", or even "When was her last break?" were far more common than any personal bits of information in the white hallways of the Arctic facility — frustratingly so too.

Taking her niece's place in the group responsible for Rayshifting into Salem to solve the mystery behind Goetia's last Demon God Pillar was simpler than eavesdropping by that point. Playing it off as Medea being stubborn beforehand was child's play too. Sure, it earned her some weird looks — and that forest hunter's glares, funnily enough — but she was still able to get in.

And she could've sworn Vy Duong was like all the other humans — well, aside from Odysseus — who came to her island back in the day. Ignorant, willing to go with the flow, and lacking any kind of backbone.

She wasn't expecting the demure Master to be ruthless.

Heck, the glare Vy was giving Circe after her introduction would've been enough to burn if she had enough power to do such a thing.

Circe had already rehearsed her introduction before her inevitable reveal. How she was the daughter of the sun god, Helios; the granddaughter of the god of the oceans, Okeanos; and ultimately, the peerless witch who inherited the magic of the goddess of the moon, Hecate.

But all Vy did once Circe said her piece was to cross her arms over her chest and say in the flattest voice possible, "And you're the jerk who took Medea's place here, is that right?"

Circe lurched back just as the other glasses-wearing girl — Mash, was it? — turned to Vy with an open mouth, "Senpai?" already on her tongue. That wasn't in the script. And — was Vy actually having the gall to be rude? To a great witch like her? And — and were Nezha and Mata Hari exchanging proud looks behind Vy's back?! What the heck?!

Still, such a small slight could be forgiven. It was only their first real talk, so Circe forced a smile back onto her face. "Yes, I'm the one who took Medea's form to join you here in Salem. I didn't want to blow my cover before coming up with an escape plan, after all."

"That's it?" Vy ground out next, and Circe had the sudden growing, nagging feeling that something was wrong. Even with all her magic, all of Hecate's wisdom, there was something about the dark look on Vy's face that nearly had Circe think Odysseus. "You took on the face of your own disciple and infiltrated this mission, which, by the way, was to save 50,000 people, just for your own fucking hide?"

Mash was slowly backing away from Vy's side as Circe paused. Sanson and Robin were the ones to exchange glances this time, and unlike their previous bouts of arguments, they were uncharacteristically in agreement if their shared look of horror was any indication. Vy didn't seem to notice any of it as her fists clenched at her sides, lotus Command Seals growing a brighter red against the back of her left hand the tighter she folded her fingers.

With every passing second, the air felt like it was getting thinner and Circe forced herself to take a breath. "…That's all there is to it, isn't there?" Circe said, taking in Vy's growing disdain with the closest to stoic contemplation she could accomplish at the moment through her own shock. "I'm a Rogue Servant who materialized during one of Da Vinci's summoning tests, and when scoping out the scene, Medea seemed so hung up on you, so I bet my chances on getting out through you." Circe shrugged her shoulders to hide the chill starting to climb up her spine. Vy's glare didn't seem to be dying down anytime soon. "This Salem is so isolated, I didn't even need to jam your communications, and I soon realized the best way to escape this prison of magecraft is to cooperate with you guys." With another smile on her face, Circe hummed. "To put it another way, we're all in the same boat!"

"You sure are freaking shameless for someone who's been deceiving us for so long," Robin put in suddenly, taking a step forward and placing an arm around Vy's shoulders before the girl could move as a frown covered his face. For the first time since the entire confrontation started, the tension melted away from Vy's face as Robin pulled her into his side, her eyes giving away surprised weariness and trust as he growled, "How are we supposed to know you're not working for the Demon God Pillar?"

"Or," Sanson put in, walking past Robin to let his figure take up most of Circe's view of Vy, his right hand flickering with energy as if to summon his weapon with one more move, "How do we know you're not the Demon God Pillar we're looking for?"

Circe internally frowned. What was it with men and being skeptical? Still, forcing another smile onto her face, she put a finger to her chin while turning on her heel to not meet any of their eyes. "I can't believe you're getting hung up over that, but I can't blame you. Sorry to say this, but I have no way of proving my innocence. You're just going to have to take my word for it."

Once again, the air's temperature abruptly plummeted and Circe didn't have to look over her shoulder to know a majority of the Servants at Vy's side were glaring at her, Vy herself included. A quiet "Hmmm" from Nezha is all that it takes to break the atmosphere, and when Circe chances a glance over her shoulder, the Lancer had closed their eyes and put a finger to their jawline in consideration. "Very unusual presence… but no malice?" is the remark that leaves Nezha's lips, leaving Robin to give them a wide-eyed look of his own while still notably keeping Vy nestled in his side.

"Th-There was last night, too, with Tituba's ghoul," Mash puts in as her first five cents since Circe's introduction, and despite her obvious hesitance at speaking up, Circe could feel the air warm as Mash continued. "It felt like she's a biosensor, and we could use the help, Senpai!"

Despite the warm look Vy shot in Mash's direction, the trembling frown on her lips implied so many other things beyond her quiet quip of, "I don't know, kouhai…" Circe chose to ignore how Robin tightened the grip he had on Vy's shoulders.

Hm.

"You're worried about me being a Rogue Servant, aren't you, Vy?" Circe made sure to push Sanson to the side, walking up to look Vy in the face as she grinned. "Then here's a suggestion: let's sign a temporary contract as a temporary sign of cooperation." Vy's eyes widened past her glasses, but Circe bent over and raised a finger close to Vy's lips with the same grin. She once again chose to ignore how Robin tensed at Vy's side, his grip tightening on Vy's shoulders again as the air tellingly flickered around his arm. "A Master-Servant pact, just until we leave Salem. What do you say?"

A human like you can't resist this, right?

"…" Vy closed her eyes and took a breath, just like Circe did a few moments ago. Then she opened her eyes to reveal a hardness to her brown irises. "Considering the situation we're in right now, I'll choose to still believe in the words you swore upon your goddess. But only for now." Her jaw tensed, though, and this time Circe was expecting the cold gesture coming her way as Vy roughly pushed Circe's hand out of her face. "Making this temporary contract doesn't mean I've forgiven you for taking Medea's place here, Circe. I don't know what exact relationship you have with her since you've become Servants, but Medea was the first Caster I ever summoned when I became a Master two years ago. I trust her far more than I could ever fare with you, and when compared to a Witch of Betrayal, you've shown nothing worthwhile outside of the workshop setup and the recent fight with Tituba's ghoul." Her fists clenched again, and Circe unconsciously lurched back once her gaze registered the faint dark gleam of blood past the cracks in Vy's fingers from where her nails met her palm. "So if you try any of this bullshit again, or, fucking hell, even try to impede the mission anymore than you have already, I'm giving Robin and Sanson permission to blow off your head."

Mash's jaw dropped. It took a second too long for Circe to blink the faint glimpse of yellow out of her eyes, just to push Odysseus out of her brain again.

"I don't have the energy to deal with a Servant who can't comprehend the weight of 50,000 fucking lives in the face of their own feathers. And if decapitation by guillotine and poison isn't your cup of tea, I could just personally duct-tape your wings to the nearest tree and set you on fire," Vy continued nonchalantly in the time it took for Circe to recompose herself, unclenching a fist to reach over and push Circe away from her place bending over to meet Vy's eyes. "At least then I can prove whether or not witches can burn to death to Hopkins."

"…Hmph," was all Circe forced herself to say to salvage her good graces as she leaned back, hands on her hips. "As much as I don't like that answer, alright then, Master. I'll follow your terms for now."

"For now," Vy echoed mildly, raising her hand to gently rest it against the one Robin was still using to hold onto her shoulders. With an affectionate pat to the Archer's knuckles, she finished with, "Until things change."

This was starting to look more and more like a bad idea. Or a bad investment, really. The barely concealed knife pointed at the back of Circe's waist from Mata Hari was more than enough proof of that.

"Mirror… tell me something…"

Circe wasn't meaning to overhear this time. She was only supposed to set up the wards around the Carter household, to update the workshop for the Servants to better return to their original strength and converse with Chaldea again. She wasn't supposed to stumble on Vy sitting by herself on a rock behind the house, singing quietly to the cloudy sky.

"Tell me who's the loneliest of all."

It only took that line for Circe's previous frustration to die down for shock. She barely even noticed Robin passing her until he tellingly bumped her shoulder on the way (how rude of him!), and when she stumbled, she could only make out the Lincoln green of his clothes as he approached Vy's still form.

"Mirror, tell me something.

Tell me who's the loneliest of all.

Fear of what's inside of me;

Tell me can a heart be turned to stone?"

A soft, high-pitched note rang in the air after that verse, as if a siren was singing it, and Circe found herself frozen. Vy brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she finished the note with a soft sigh.

"Mirror, mirror, what's behind you?

Save me from the things I see!

I can keep it from the world,

Why won't you let me hide from me?

Mirror, mirror, tell me something,

Who's the loneliest of all?"

Vy tilted her head up towards the cloudy gray sky of the Salem Singularity, her throat visibly shaking from her gulping in air just as Robin quietly made his way to her side to sit down. "I'm the… loneliest of…" Vy coughed just before she could sing the last word, shaking her head as she held a hand up to her throat. Her Command Seals glowed as she massaged the skin there, her eyes opening to reveal small bits of tears beyond her glasses. "Darn. Still can't get that last part right."

"Even then, little sparrow, I wouldn't agree with you being the 'loneliest of all,'" Robin started mildly with a raised hand to make air quotes, and not even from her faraway spot could Circe miss how Vy jumped, turning to the Archer with wide eyes. In a softer voice, he added, "What's the matter?"

Vy's mouth opened, nothing but a soft squeak leaving it, before she pressed it closed into a tight line, lowering her head to stare at her hands folded in the lap of her skirt. "…That's a loaded question, Big Robin," is what eventually leaves her as a response, her shoulders hunching enough for Circe to see the tension in her spine. "Are you okay with listening?"

"I wouldn't have come out here if I wasn't okay with it," Robin remarked, the fondness in his voice undercutting any dryness to the words as he reached over with one arm to pull Vy to his side. "Just try me."

Vy sighed, letting the tension in her figure go in favor of leaning into Robin's touch and resting her head on his shoulder. "…I guess I was hating myself, to be brief. Overthinking everything that's happened since we've come here to figure out what the Demon God Pillar's doing." With a tiny shrug, Vy didn't resist Robin taking a corner of his cloak to cover her shoulders with it, appearing so much smaller because of relenting to the affection. "50,000 people don't just go up and disappear, Big Robin. And after what happened with Tituba and Abby, I can't help but feel a bit scared too."

I don't want you to die by hanging, either, Circe could sense in the air. Vy didn't even say anything, and yet the back of her mind was tingling oddly. I don't want to see anyone else die like Tituba did.

It was starting to get to the point Circe was acutely feeling like this wasn't something she was supposed to be hearing as Robin murmured, "There's nothing wrong with being scared, Vy. You shouldn't have to hold onto all this by yourself — it's not good for you."

"Thankie for saying that, but that's not exactly what's worrying me, Big Robin." A shaky exhale cut off Vy's words and Circe could hear a stifled breath nearing a sob. A sniffle, maybe? "What I said to Circe back there — that was something an ex-friend of mine would've said, not me. But I still said it and I can't take it back. And what scares me is how I don't regret it." Vy lowered her head into the Lincoln green of the No Face May King, her brown hair barely peeking out past the collar of the fabric as she leaned into Robin's figure. "…Even if it might've been the right thing to do, establishing that boundary, I don't want to turn into some kind of ruthless tyrant who isn't aware of the people around her, even through all the hurt that's going on. And, and when Mom and Dad called before we Rayshifted, I—" There was a soft choking noise. "That was the first time I lied to them, Robin. That I was okay and needed to finish one more job before going home to see Di Thuy in the hospital. She's… she's dying, Robin, and when I was talking to Circe, all I could see was her and no one else."

Circe decided to duck away after that, manifesting her staff to force herself back into the work she needed to do. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to hear Robin's response, because it didn't change the growing possibility that this journey was starting to be more and more like a mistake she had dug for her own grave.

Especially when Vy and Robin were starting to look like what Circe imagined Penelope and Odysseus ended up becoming in the end, without her interference.

Scoping out the forest should've been Circe's chance to gain some of Vy's trust. The Whateleys were suspicious enough, and it was her first job as Vy's Servant, temporary contract nonwithstanding. Even preparing for that false Lavinia's trap should've been simple.

But then Robin got hurt, falling from one too many swipes made by those mysterious monsters the not-Lavinia summoned, and Circe could feel the panic rise up in her brain as the situation settled into the shitstorm that it was quickly becoming. She was the protege of Hecate — a few wounds should've been simple enough to fix. But their enemy was getting away, the forest was still too far out for Circe to really parse out what was dangerous and what wasn't with her magic, and Robin was struggling to breathe. The fact he even had the gall to say, "Sorry, Miss Great Witch, I won't be doing any moving for a while…" was shitty enough!

What the fuck was Circe getting so worked up for?! It was just a single man in the end! He wasn't Odysseus! So then—

Creating a stretcher to run out of the forest with Robin was all Circe could manage in her troubled state, because unconsciously, she knew what she'd see when getting back to the Carter household.

Yet, remarkably, amazingly, the previously ruthless Vy was barely letting out a single sob once Sanson started peeling back Robin's tunic and cloak to work at cleaning up the blood, choosing to give only Circe the silent treatment as she sat quietly in a chair near Robin's bedside. The only indication of her troubled mindset was how white her knuckles turned when holding one of Robin's hands in both of hers and the tightness of her shoulders.

"…Good work on the investigation and bringing Robin safely back," was all Vy had said once Circe had bravely poked her past Mash's fretting arms, her head lowered to hide her eyes behind her long curtain of hair. "You're dismissed, Caster."

Circe uncharacteristically found nothing leaving her throat when Mata Hari and Nezha were forcefully pushing her out the door.

She didn't even use my name. It would've been easier if she did.

Circe still left a small eye — a familiar — to watch Robin's room just in case. It felt wrong — definitely an invasion of the trust Vy barely had in Circe to begin with — but she had to see. She had to know what was going on and the familiar was tiny enough to stay out of Vy's view. And through all the first-aid work Sanson set himself up to take care of the now unconscious Robin, Vy hadn't moved from her seat at his bedside, merely stroking the back of his knuckles every now and then.

"…Vy," Sanson said after a moment, pausing his work in applying anesthetic and antiseptic (apparently the bottles came from what modern humans called a "first aid box"?) to Robin's stomach, a needle and thread left hanging awkwardly in his hand as he turned to look at their shared Master. "Forgive me for saying this, but you don't have to stay here and watch. You've had a long day yourself, so you should get some rest. Stitchwork is not for the faint of heart and I can handle this on my own."

"…Which I understand, but I'll rest later, Sanson," was all Vy said in reply, her grip on Robin's hand unrelenting as she shook her head. "After everything we've both seen, stitches are the least of my worries when it comes to nightmare material."

Sanson still lowered his tools to the nearby nightstand, turning to face Vy with a concerned expression. "Vy, that's not the point I'm trying to make."

Circe could see through her familiar's eye the moment Vy raised her head to meet Sanson's gaze, and even though she couldn't make out every minute detail on her face, it was definitely making Sanson pause, and he was the former executioner. "I know, and I understand your worries, Sanson, I really do. But this is one of those times where I don't want to leave. Not now." A shaky sigh echoed in the room, contrasting Robin's faint breathing from the bed. If Circe wasn't straining her senses so much to watch everything, she might've heard the first sniffle that left Vy's lips. "I can't be there for Di Thuy in the outside world right now as she goes through chemotherapy for a cancer that's still on the verge of killing her. But I can at least be here for Big Robin."

Sanson paused, his arms tensing past his dress shirt as he considered Vy with a careful gaze.

"Please, Sanson," Vy said in a slightly louder voice, wearing a smile that was nothing but pitiful to Circe's eye at the corners of her lips. "Just let me be here for at least one person I love in my life."

It took a few moments, enough for Circe to feel the awkwardness in the air through her own familiar, before Sanson took his own turn to sigh. "…As long as you are alright with assisting me in holding Robin down once I start the sutures? Even with Circe's magic and the anesthetic, he could easily thrash about if I'm not careful."

Vy's smile turned a bit brighter to Circe's eye. "Aye," was all she said, then she took one hand away from holding Robin's to gently reach over and pat Sanson's forearm with sheer, honest sincerity. "Thankie, Assassin. I mean it."

"I know and you're welcome, Master." Sanson smiled back and Circe closed her familiar's eye once he turned back and leaned over Robin's unconscious body to start the first stitch. Magic would've made things less messy and she had no business watching more than that.

It was about at the crack of dawn that Circe opened her familiar's eye again. Sleep didn't mean much to a Servant, incarnated or not, but she still felt herself suppress a yawn she didn't need to make as she raised her head from her table. Looking through the familiar's eye revealed the same room as before, the only immediate changes being the bandages covering Robin's bare torso and a dozing Vy resting her head in her arms near his bedside as Sanson quietly moved in and out of the room, checking Robin's bandages while gently dropping a blanket over Vy's shoulders. Even when asleep, Vy was still holding onto Robin's hand.

And Robin—

Circe felt her heart skip a beat that it didn't need.

Robin was waking up. Even through the familiar's tiny eye, Circe could make out the bright green of his visible eye as it fluttered open, and despite the pained groan that came out of his mouth, Vy was waking up too, slowly coming back to the world of the living as he unintentionally tugged at her hand.

Sanson didn't even have a chance to speak before Robin was slowly sitting up in his bed, hiding his wincing to face the slowly awakening Vy, and a pained smile was all Circe could see as Vy drowsily raised her head in confusion. "Hey… little sparrow… what did I tell you about waiting for me?" In spite of another wince, he continued to smile, reaching over with his other hand to gently pat her head and smooth out some of the tangles that formed in her hair overnight. "I told you… I'd be coming back to you, didn't I?"

Vy procceded to let out a noise caught between a surprised squeal and a high-pitched scream of "ROBIN!" before she was jumping up from her chair to wrap her arms around Robin's neck, barely remembering to give him enough space to not jostle his bandages as Sanson let out a quiet sigh. By then, Circe could hear the incoming sobs in full, familiar-made high definition, barely muffled by Vy's new place sitting in Robin's bed as she clung to him, shaking her head vigorously. "Robin… Robin, Robin, Robin… oh, thank god, I was so worried…!"

Despite another cough leaving his throat, Robin still took a moment to wrap an arm around Vy's waist in return, resting his cheek into the crown of her hair with the same tired smile. "You worry too much, little sparrow," he murmured, and the soft, discreet peck he pressed into her hair wasn't missed by Sanson or Circe. Circe could've sworn that the two resembled a couple more than a Master and Servant. "I said I'd always be here for you, right?"

A watery giggle echoes in the room then, enough to make Sanson relax as Circe watched with wide eyes. "Y-You did, you did, I just…" A high-pitched sob ended up being muffled in the column of Robin's neck as Vy hid her face away from the world. "When Caster brought you in bleeding like all fucking hell had gone up to the Ice Ages, I was just so scared—!"

It was Robin's turn to chuckle as he ducked his head to press another kiss into the top of Vy's hair. Whether or not he noticed Circe's familiar, he didn't seem to give off any indication of it, even pointedly ignoring Sanson's still figure nearby as he hugged Vy close. "Maybe we need to work on your cursing next, little sparrow," he whispered over her trembling figure, tucking her further into his warmth with a wry smile. "There's more creative ways to express frustration." Even when lowering his voice to a soft timbre, Circe could still see him mouth out, "I'm okay, don't worry, I'm not leaving you. I'm okay."

"You dork, Big Robin…" Vy sobbed, shaking her head again. "I-I can curse as much as I please! You worried me, mister!"

I love you, her actions said without voicing it.

"I know, little sparrow," Robin smiled into her hair while tightening his grip. "I'm sorry."

I love you too, his actions replied.

Circe chose to let her familiar dissipate into dust at that very moment, closing her eyes to think back into the void again. Reminiscing on what could've been, what she could've had with Odysseus — it didn't matter now when he wasn't here anymore. When he would still choose Penelope over her, to the bitter end.

"Maybe I should've asked to go with Medea back then…" left her in a huff as she leaned back into her own creaky chair, shaking her head. "Watching those two makes me sick."

Circe was a witch in the end. No one would choose to be with her. But seeing Robin be embraced by Vy like that, like she actually loved him—

Circe hated the part of her that wanted the same.