A/N: Welcome back~ Time for some more plottness, mm~?
Hope you enjoy~
Light
Chapter 3: Influencing Shadows
It was a short walk across Golden Hour, all things considered.
Granted they didn't exactly rush it, but they made a point to not stop stand and stare at the sights – a hand tugging March away from any windows that held innumerable cute clothes or snacks. Soon enough though they crossed the road to the very edge of Golden Hour; a few roads spiralling this way or that whilst cars drove by, forcing them to stop and wait for a precious minute or two before they could safely cross,
Thankfully this part of Golden Hour was comparatively peaceful – 'comparatively' being the operative word. People of all races and styles walked past and chatted among themselves, but with so much to see in so little time not many stopped to pay them more than a passing glance. Nor did many even stop to give Sunday a passing glance as the Oak family head stood staring up at the grand blue structure in the distance, its luminosity like a water-clad moon compared to the evening glow of Golden Hour.
Caelus looked between his two companions and sighed when they both looked at him expectantly; Firefly more shy while March had an expectant look. Then again he usually left the talking to her, so he guessed it was his turn to do the talking.
''Ahem.'' He coughed, earning one yellow iris on him. ''Mr. Sunday, right?''
''That would be me.'' The man remarked lightly as he turned to face them, and it was only when he caught sight of March that he seemed to recognise them. ''Ah, my apologises, members of the Astral Express; I hadn't recognised you at first. Is there something you needed?''
There was slight undercurrent of impatience to his tone; a subtle want for quickness. Or perhaps he just wasn't in a chatty mood? ''Listen we uh... may have a problem.''
''With check-ins I'm assuming? I was certain that was fixed-''
''No, not that.'' He paused to think for once in his life, trying to craft his words in a way that got the point across without being too direct. ''We were attacked by a creature and were wondering if you knew anything about it.''
Sunday fell silent, his expression unreadable. Okay, maybe his dialogue choices still needed some work. He was never good at subtlety anyway.
''...I see. What kind of creature, pray tell?'' Sunday remarked as he languidly looked about.
''It was a memetic entity, according to a Memokeeper friend who happened to be around to help us out.'' Caelus pointedly didn't mention Black Swan by name. It wasn't really relevant anyway. ''It tried to attack me and my friend; we only managed to kill it when my Memokeeper friend and a passing Galaxy Ranger teamed up on it.''
''Is that so.'' Again with the neutrality. Guy had a face of stone. ''And now that it is vanquished, you wished to warn me of others like it being around, perhaps?''
Caelus internally sighed. ''Sorta. We were wondering if you um... knew why it existed?''
Another long stare. One so potent that even March, stood behind him, openly groaned. Was he that bad?
A sigh from his right though drew Sunday's flat gaze onto Firefly. ''Forgive him. To clear things up, we were attacked by a memetic entity that seems to be related to the concept of 'death'. It tried to... kill me, when he saved me from it. It seemed to be going for me in particular until they beat it down and finally slayed it – would you, as a member of The Family, happen to know anything about it?''
''Of course we don't expect you to tell us everything.'' Firefly hastened to add, flushing a little under the continuous gaze. ''But as victims who were just attacked... don't we at least deserve to know how or what it was?''
''Yeah!'' March insisted, hands on her hips. ''Plus, we're part of the Astral Express; solving problems is our thing. You guys probably have your hands full with the festival right? Maybe we can help!''
This, at least, got a quirk of a smile from Sunday. ''I see the Nameless's reputation for helping those in need lives on, even if your friend here isn't great at articulating it.''
Caelus felt his brow twitch but held his tongue, if only because they were making some progress now.
''But to answer your question... we, The Family, are indeed aware of it.'' Sunday swept his eyes about and Caelus realised then he was keeping tabs on the passersby; making sure none overheard his words. ''I cannot disclose its exact origins, as that is a close secret. However it is not one we wish to have here – it is more of a... by-product, you could say, of the dream. Of the deep-seated fear of death all living things possess, made manifest within the Dreamscape.''
Caelus nodded. ''So it'll come back.''
Sunday eyed him. ''...most likely. In truth, I hadn't thought the entity killable – scores of our own have tried whenever we located it, but it often fled if found; usually after dispatching no more than a person or two, even when more targets were freely available.''
'So it's choosing its targets, rather than just murdering indiscriminately?' Caelus privately noted but didn't voice. 'Not killable... Black Swan said the same thing. Should I tell him the Preservation is its weakness?'
He was tempted to. Almost.
But something was off with The Family. Their secrets, the Dreamscape itself, something lurked just beneath the surface of the paradise and he wasn't sure he could trust Sunday. Plus even if he knew, what would it help? He doubted they had many among their ranks that wielded an object blessed by the Aeon of Preservation itself like he did, and worse if they knew he did they might try and coerce him into their service. Maybe nicely by paying him, or maybe more sinisterly by holding one or more of his friends hostage.
After all while in their Dreampools they were virtually defenceless. Who knew what they could do to Welt, to Himeko, to March – to Firefly, without him being any the wiser?
No. As it stood, he didn't trust Sunday enough to divulge that detail, small as it may be.
''Well how do we stop it?'' March inquired with a frown. ''Surely there's a way, right?''
Sunday chuckled; the sound good-natured even if his words lacked fondness. ''There is not. The only 'solution' would be to simply not have anyone in the Dreamscape, period.''
''W-What? Seriously, isn't that a bit extreme?!''
''All living beings fear death, Miss March. Even Aeons, I'm sure.'' Sunday laid a hand over his heart. ''As such so long as even one person remains within the Dreamscape, the fear of death remains, and that fear is made manifest. There is no mechanism to quench it, to stifle it, to prevent it. It can be done no easier than simply deciding to forego oxygen; it is impossible.''
And like hell we're shutting down the Dreamscape over one foe, especially now that it's been proven killable. Was the unspoken, but not unheard part to Caelus.
The young man's eyes narrowed, however. ''Surely if this thing had been around for ages people would know, right? I get a few dozen, maybe even a few hundred guests in the lead up to the Charmony Festival, but beyond that? People have to have taken notice.''
Sunday hummed slowly, another bout of silence ensuing – and just when Caelus was about to get ticked off the man replied. ''Indeed. This is a relatively new phenomena.''
''Wait, so you're saying this thing hasn't always been in the Dreamscape?'' March asked incredulously.
''Something happened.'' It was Firefly who spoke, hand over her chest as she frowned up at the taller man. ''Something happened and that thing appeared, didn't it?''
A long gaze was cast her way. ''...an astute observation, Miss.''
''And a correct one.'' He immediately swept his gaze back over them. ''I will concede, this is a new development, and one we're still adjusting to. This... memetic entity you refer to has taken many lives in the preceding months; more by the day, in fact. Sometimes only the one, others over a dozen. It has no discernable pattern. No motive we know. The extent of its abilities are unknown and even when we spoke our hearts out to Xipe, they did not answer us. Whether because it was beneath their notice or reasons other, I am unsure.''
He sighed then. ''Of course, we must keep this a secret, and should you choose not to you will be expelled from Penacony post-haste – no offence intended, of course, but you must understand how delicate things are, especially with the festival so near. Even if there might be some... last-minute changes to the line-up.''
Caelus didn't understand nor did Firefly, judging by her confused look – but one girl understood. One girl who was a massive fan of a certain somebody.
''R-Robin... did she...?'' March trembled out, shaken.
Sunday pursed his lips. ''...I do not know. She's been missing for over a day despite my insistent calls and my men looking all over for her-''
''We'll look for her!'' March immediately volunteered, only to blush when it drew some eyes – a cough quietening herself. ''Trust us with this, please. We can't promise we'll find her, but as Nameless it's our duty to help all we can. Saving your sister counts for that.''
''That's very generous of you.'' Sunday smiled – and it was a more sincere smile than the ones before it, his golden eyes seeming a touch brighter than their previously-dulled hue. ''Even if you just find a hint as to where she could've gone, please let me know. I... I worry for her.''
March nodded firmly. ''We'll find her sir. Just uh... got any leads first?''
''She was last seen at the hotel by the plaza.'' Sunday pulled out what looked like a chequebook and a pen, scribbling onto it with elegant flourishes. ''Take this to the front desk and ask to investigate her room. My men have already looked through it but didn't find anything that could aid in the investigation, unfortunately – perhaps you as Trailblazers will have better success. I pray to Xipe you do.''
Caelus accepted the note handed to him, eyeing it. Upon the peaks of which I fly, to the land below I walk. A pass phrase of sorts? Or maybe a reference to a poem that the receptionist would understand as being from Sunday? In the end he gave up pondering and they politely excused themselves, a simple nod and goodbye breaking off the conversation.
And leaving them with a new objective; the hotel.
…
As fate would have it, the hotel was a familiar one.
''...isn't this the same one we're staying at?'' Caelus tilted his head to look at Firefly.
His partner smiled sheepishly. ''It is. What're the chances, aha...''
Caelus shook his head in disbelief even as he made his way towards the front doors; March skipping up alongside him. ''Ooh, you two are sharing a hotel room aren't you~?''
''Bed.'' Caelus admitted – his cheeks warming when March cooed. ''Quiet you.''
March maturely stuck her tongue out at him, much to Firefly's entertainment, her giggle light and soothing his heart. Shaking his head he made his way inside, the lobby as grand as it was the first time with its wine-red carpet and walls adorned with paintings. He didn't let himself get lost in the beauty of the hotel though; instead he meandered up to the receptionist; a youngish lad with soil-brown hair styled upwards with gel, his jade-coloured earrings jingling as he turned their way.
''Welcome, esteemed guests.'' The receptionist smiled warmly. ''What can I do for you today?''
''Lemme handle this.'' March pushed past him and he didn't resist; more than glad to let her handle the whole 'communication' thing. ''Hi there, we're here to see check out Robin's room?''
Immediately Caelus took note of how several people in the room stopped to listen in, and felt the urge to face-palm. Right. Her staying here was probably a secret of sorts, given how popular she was. Or at least not openly talked about.
''Um, sorry ma'am, but there's nobody by that name staying here.'' The receptionist nervously answered, smiling apologetically. ''Perhaps you confused us for the hotel further down the plaza?''
Caelus shifted closer and put the note on the desk, discreetly pushing it towards the man. He got a curious eyeful in return before the receptionist gingerly picked it up, widened his eyes, and then made an understanding noise.
''Ahh, Robin Ichsford. Sorry, I got confused, she's signed in by her last name first – a cultural thing, she said.'' The receptionist rattled on. ''I heard she's pretty popular with the Xianzhou Alliance, being a Foxian and all. Then again fashion models tend to be.''
The attention that came their way died down quickly as the would-be fans lost interest, realising that it was a different Robin they were interesting in and not the Robin of the Oak family. Caelus suppressed a smile at that and tipped his head at the receptionist as thanks, earning a private smile in return from the man as he typed in some information on a strange computer-like device, one that looked almost antique yet was outfitted with a fancy hardlight keyboard. Then again, the strange mish-mash of technology Penacony had were nothing new by this point.
Though he did wonder why they were so damn enamoured by CRTs...
''Aha, she's currently staying in this room. Here's the keys.'' The man slid the note back over to him with a smile. ''Is there anything else I can help with?''
March politely turned the offer down and they scooted away from the desk, making room for a group of customers that came up asking about room prices or something of that nature. ''Phew, that was close... me and my loud mouth huh?''
''At least you're self aware about it.'' Caelus drawled.
''Says the guy who got the death stare from Sunday.'' March sniped back with hands on her hips and a flat look on her face.
Firefly got between them before they could throw more half-hearted jabs at one another. ''We shouldn't linger for long. We're looking for her, remember?''
That got them to quieten down; a nod coming from Caelus. ''Mm. Lead the way.''
Firefly returned the nod and hurried off down the corridor; the pair of them following swiftly behind.
Robin's room, contrary to expectations, wasn't located on the top floor where all the fancier rooms were. Instead it was on the third floor not far down the corridor from their own, modestly tucked in the middle of the hallway without much in the way to distinguish it from the others. To help blend in and make it hard for superfans to find her, he imagined.
Like March, ironically enough. He had the sense to not say that aloud, though.
Caelus quenched the thought though as they neared it. The door looked perfectly fine, no obvious signs of entry or whatever, but considering The Family had already looked into it he imagined anything obvious would've already been collected or mentioned when they talked with Sunday. Thus with pursed lips he let the keys fly into the lock, the dull thunk they made preluding the door opening for them and revealing a room much like, if not identical to his and Firefly's room.
The differences though laid in how disarrayed it was. The bed sheets were pulled back as if someone had gotten out of bed in a hurry and not made any effort to tidy it back up, while the pillows were uneven and there was a few bags around the room, presumably belonging to Robin and with various items inside. As he followed his two companions inside he dared peek into the bags, feeling a little guilty for doing so but reasoning it'd be fine if it meant finding Robin sooner.
Unfortunately there wasn't any ransom note or anything convenient within the bags. Instead it was just... stuff. Novels, tourist guides, currency and knick-knacks, there was even a bag dedicated just to fan letters and pictures, all wrapped up in a plastic bag that protected them from damage. It spoke of someone who genuinely cared about those she met, the thought bringing a hint of a smile to his face. Though they hadn't talked long, she seemed like a nice person. He just hoped this mystery wouldn't have a grisly end to it... much like Tingyun's had.
The thought of the Foxian made his lips purse but he pushed down the memories, focusing on the task at hand instead. Firefly was poking around the trio of bags by the bed while March was checking out the bathroom for anything, so he focused on the bedside drawer closest to him. It had a few items atop it – water, a lamp, an itinerary of sorts, the usual stuff. It was when he opened the drawer that he found something more interesting.
A diary.
For a moment he debated not opening it. He wasn't really one for reading or recording his thoughts, but his time with March told him that people got very protective of their secrets, and he imagined Robin would have more than a few. It was possible that even The Family hadn't opened it out of respect for her – or perhaps fear of Sunday, he wondered? Either way it looked untouched, with a thin layer of dust covering it. It hadn't been moved in easily a day or two, far longer than Robin had been missing, so it was unlikely a kidnapper wrote a secret note in there or anything.
But the lack of jubilation from his comrades told that they weren't having much luck. Plus, what she wouldn't know wouldn't hurt her, right?
With that thought in mind Caelus hefted the small book out and cracked it open. Pages unfurled before him, the recorded thoughts of a famous singer laid bare before him, going back a full system year. He skipped through it quickly, not wanting to pry overlong, but his eyes, well-trained at catching out small details, noticed a few key words and phrases over and over again over the weeks leading up to today. Worries about the Charmony Festival. Her singing. Sickness then health before sickness again, medications to ease or soothe that did little to heal her heart – and most of all, nightmares.
It was a brief mention at first. Within a week's worth of pages it was a regular mention. In the days leading up to the present they were more numerous – her words scrawled more than scribed, her flourishes becoming dashes, then jerks. It wasn't erratic, no she retained some semblance of grace, but her handwriting visibly got worse in the days leading up. Mentions of poor sleep came up alongside the nightmares, nightmares which she frustratingly couldn't recall in any semblance of detail, only the barest feelings remaining.
Feelings of isolation. Of fear.
Of death.
It sent a chill up his spine and he turned the page, only to find the right-hand side blank, leaving just the left-hand one. An incomplete entry, dated for yesterday.
[It feels like I can't breathe. It's too much. I can't tell Sunday, he's got enough on his plate, but who else? It's too much. It's over. I just need to sing. I need to sleep. I need something-]
The entry ended there. The pen-strokes were harsh and forceful, tearing a part of the page even. The last few words though... even though they were just pen-strokes, it was almost as if he could feel the emotions left behind. The pain. The distress. The panic. Was it because of the Charmony Festival – was this a mental breakdown of sorts? He couldn't blame her if so, it was a massive deal that happened like what, once a millennium? Even Foxians, who were long-lived, wouldn't live long enough to see one of them let alone two. Screwing up was arguably the most embarrassing stage cock-up imaginable – she wasn't just on the world stage, she was on the universe's stage, and practically everyone watching. Judging. Analysing.
He drew in a breath. A mental breakdown, then... but she seemed fine when they chatted just a day or two ago. Was she just good at hiding it? Sunday had said she'd only been missing for about a day, so she must've vanished shortly after he arrived in Golden Hour. Then again now that he thought about it, hadn't she looked off when they first met? Not quite tired but... fatigued, if he was to put it in a way. He brushed it off at the time since she was still a stranger and probably had a tight schedule, but maybe she was on the brink of snapping?
Yet even then... it didn't feel right. The mentions of nightmares came back to him then and he scrutinised the diary in a new light. Nightmares about singing or the stage he could understand – but nightmares of death?
Didn't that sound just a tiny bit suspicious?
Alas there was no exact details spelled out in the diary. No warnings of a Something Unto Death in her dreams, just a hazy recollection of fear and death. However the fact this had been building up for weeks, that the Something Unto Death was a new phenomenon, and that it had only been slain not even a full twenty-four hours ago...
'Dammit. Don't tell me she was also a target...!'
Just as that thought struck he heard a click behind him, of a door opening – and then a gasp. Firefly.
He whirred around in a heartbeat, about to ask what was the problem – only to see the problem quite easily.
A portal.
In the closet of Robin's room, with her dresses and blouses pushed aside, a diagonal purple crack split space itself and let out an ominous, ethereal aura, previously unfelt with the thin wooden closet doors in the way.
''What is this doing here...?'' Firefly whispered uncertainly.
Could it be the source of Robin's nightmares, perhaps? But why? What good did giving Robin nightmares serve a creature that sought to kill – it didn't seem sadistic, if anything it was brutally efficient. Or was the nightmares perhaps just a by-product of its existence? Even if so though that didn't explain why there was a portal here...
Unfortunately any further introspection flitted away as Firefly reached out, perhaps subconsciously, towards the portal. ''Wait-!''
Too late. She touched it, and she was gone – pulled through the portal with barely time to scream, the sound cut short before it could truly bloom. March heard it though and was already making her way over, a single look shared but not a word spoken, thoughts communicated in a second or less. It was enough.
And without hesitation Caelus threw himself into the torso-sized portal.
The world spun violently as if he'd just leapt into a washing machine, colours blurring to black and twisting into a sickening riptide – when it was over in a snap and gravity claimed him, sending him crashing onto the carpeted, yet still wooden floor below, a grunt forced out of him as he skidded gracelessly to a stop. He was hardly down and out though, adrenaline a good motivator to raise his head-
He remembered this place. The dull gloom that hung over The Reverie, the floating chairs and objects left askew by time, the utter absence of life beyond the occasional rattle of twisted machinery or unreal spirits in corridors and rooms, ever-changing in their position. They were deep in the Dreamscape again. Back to where it all began.
Back to where Firefly was almost murdered.
Yet something was different this time. The air was still but not silent, the gloom hung but felt darker, the temperature was colder than before. The unnerving offness of their surroundings weighed heavily on his shoulders even as he forced himself to his feet, relief soothing his heart as he found Firefly just a few feet away and currently nursing her head, wincing but otherwise uninjured from the forced teleportation. A little grunt behind him told him that March had also arrived.
''Sorry.'' Firefly's mumble lured his gaze back to her. ''I probably shouldn't have done that.''
''It's fine.'' Caelus was quick to soothe, offering her a hand and helping her up. ''You good?''
''Mm. Good.'' She squeezed his hand, fingers curling into his; her smile shy but sweet.
It warmed his heart and made him look aside, gazing out across the dismal representation of The Reverie... when he took notice of the background noise again. A wavering pitch that ebbed and flowed like water, so soothing and entrancing it made him want to just stop and listen. He wasn't the only one; Firefly's grip on his hands loosened little by little, the two of them just listening to the soft feminine notes enunciated with such gentle grace it was hypnotic.
Yet something was odd about it, something that distorted the gentle wonder of the distant melody, like a record scratch halfway through a song. It made his brow scrunch and he blinked rapidly, one hand rubbing at his eyes. His mind felt... heavy. Not sleepy, but like someone had just put a rock on his head, coercing him into submission. Into a long sleep for which he would never wake up from.
''What the hell...?'' Caelus muttered, looking at Firefly.
She too must've felt it, her brow scrunching and giving her head a firm shake, slapping herself lightly to knock some sense into herself. Had the situation been any different he might've found it adorable – scratch that, it was – but the heavy atmosphere, the sense of foreboding, didn't allow him to smile.
''Hey, isn't that Robin's voice?'' It was March's surprisingly casual voice that made him look back at her, somewhat bewildered to see her looking like nothing was wrong. ''Huh? What's with that look?''
''You don't feel it?'' It was Firefly who piped up.
''Feel what?'' March looked over her shoulder warily. ''Not something bad I hope.''
''I don't know if it was bad, but...'' Caelus grimaced. ''Never mind. You said that was Robin's singing right? That must mean she's close.''
Firefly looked behind herself and he followed her gaze along the walkway. One that soon featured a corner section with an elevator. A very familiar elevator and equally familiar receptionist desk, still destroyed in places from the fight against the Something Unto Death.
What were the chances the portal brought them here – brought Robin here? Was this a killing ground of sorts for it, to bring or lure prey here to finish them off? But if so, why? More importantly why was Robin even singing? Monsters still lurked these halls and could be drawn in... but if the weird subduement he'd just felt was any indication, maybe she didn't need to worry and was just trying to buy time for herself to be rescued.
He clung to that hope as he marched forth – only to be stopped by a hand grasping his. Firefly's.
Ah. His brow softened and he slipped his hand into hers.
His companion of just a short few days – not even that long – looked up at him, twilight eyes soft with worry and uncertainty, even a little fear. Considering how things went last time he wasn't surprised... but, they couldn't just leave Robin here. Who knows what might happen to her if they turned their backs on her now? That wasn't right. It wasn't the way of the Nameless.
''It'll be alright.'' Caelus whispered soothingly, free hand touching her back and luring them close, letting him rest his forehead against her own. ''I won't let anything hurt you. Not now, not ever.''
''Never again.''
It was a whisper, faint as it brushed against his mind, but he ignored the stray... thought? Whatever it was.
Firefly's lips pursed and she drew in a slow breath, her lips curling up with her ensuing exhale. ''I know you will. Just... be careful, please?''
Caelus nodded slightly and, with some reluctance, drew away. Firefly let go of his hand and he spared a glance over at March, only then remembering she was there to see the whole thing – but she didn't tease him. She wasn't even looking at them, in fact; her gaze ahead with worry plastered across her features. It was only when he followed her gaze that he caught a glimpse between a broken bar of metal and cluster of planks – a figure, stood in the centre of the lobby.
Robin.
''Let's go.'' He announced and fast-marched forth.
A march that built into a jog, then a run, his allies following behind him. Though absurdly long the walkway held little obstacles for them to get around and they soon passed the motionless elevator shaft, paying it no heed to it as they jogged up to the lobby itself. They needn't look far to find their missing songstress, stood alone in the centre of the lobby with arms out, moving with the strums of her song – lifting, lowering, fingers together always but hands in constant, floaty motion.
Her eyes were half-lidded, however; eyes dulled and unresponsive to their presence. 'She isn't conscious? How is she still singing? Don't tell me she came here by sleepwalking...'
He didn't decipher any possible answer. Nor did March, clearly, as his fellow Trailblazer stepped towards her. ''M-Miss Robin, it's me March! You remember me right? Er, not that you probably would, but we met before in the lobby area...''
His comrade stepped closer and he felt the air shift.
The weight.
The pressure.
The Imaginary Scythe.
Black smoke rushed in from all corners of the room, rapidly converging under March's feet.
''March-!''
Not a second later the formless black smoke merged into a solid arm tipped with three gold fingers – and stabbed up into the space above it.
Caelus hissed as he rolled, skidding to a stop with a tackled March by his side. ''That was too close.''
''Y-Yeah, you can say that again.'' March stammered out, looking up at him then at the arm.
The pair of them rose to their feet, his flaming lance manifesting in his right hand and her bow in hers – both facing down the smoky tendril as it pressed onto the ground, hauling the rest of the body out of the smoke itself.
Ocular wings fanned out.
A long neck rose up.
And with a gargling, enraged shriek the Something Unto Death rose before them, innumerable purple eyes glaring into Caelus's own.
Vengeance, an all too clear desire.
[END]
A/N: Oh dear~ Hopefully nobody will be getting impaled next chapter~
Ch4 will be up fairly soon on the 11th~