Somewhere within a vast, dark space that felt both familiar and foreboding, a child was crying.
Ferris didn't have to go far to trace the source of the sound. It was as if her body knew exactly in what direction to go; a life force attracting another life force. It was the same child in the odd blue and pink tunic she'd seen countless times before, sitting on their knees within the shadowy landscape, their face coated with tears.
Coming from them, it was a rare moment of intense emotion. For Ferris, the cause was not hard to identify. The child's arms were wrapped tightly across their abdomen, as if they were in great pain. Their pallor was off as though they were sick or gripped with overwhelming fear. Likely both. Not too far off, a golden star glimmered with brilliant indifference.
"Our fate rests upon you..." a mournful voice called through the darkness, "Stay determined..."
The voice hadn't even finished speaking, however, when the child let out a tortured scream in reply. It seemed to be a line that they had heard plenty before. No matter how caring the speaker, they were not words that could offer any comfort in a moment like this.
As rare as the sight was to see, rarer still was the young woman's empathy. She knew it would be a futile attempt, but Ferris nearly broke her personal rule against trying to interact with her visions anyway. As little as she understood of the scene, she just couldn't bear to see someone so young burdened with the same weight she carried.
Approaching them from behind, she reached out to touch the child's shoulder only to draw herself back when she noticed that they weren't actually alone. A familiar was there, the same female, two-tailed fox that she'd met in her own childhood and that often followed Blaze back wasn't that the odd creature never interacted with others. It was just strange to see the fox in one of her visions. Familiars were generally impossible to understand, from their behaviors to the confusing bits of information that could be gleaned about them through appraisal spells. They were often, quite literally, otherworldly.
In this case, however, the look on the familiar's face was simple to understand: It was one of pity. The fox sat near the child with her ears dipped back, a paw tentatively raised in the same, outstretched pose that Ferris made. When the familiar attempted to pat the child on the knee, she was knocked back with a firm shove. The fox didn't particularly seem to mind. She barely had the chance to process what had even happened. Soon enough, she was yanked up into the child's arms with a tight squeeze—the youth sobbing into her fur.
A creature said to toy with the lives of others being treated like a child's plaything… Ferris might've chuckled if the circumstances weren't so grim. Contrary to what could be expected, the fox remained still and let the child have their cry.
The young woman was jarred back into consciousness by the clanking of armor as one of Falchon's soldiers walked past her from where she learned near the castle's front doors. As she and Castellar interrogated Meadow Weaver and the rest of the castle's residents, the skeleton had sent one of the townspeople off to fetch the soldiers. Now, the area was bustling with them.
Of course, the two mages were careful with whatever evidence they shared. It wasn't that they fancied hiding Lord Weaver's crimes, but the sheer brutality of them—from a member of the Monster Kingdom's nobility no less—was destined to send waves of devastation across Ebott. Tensions had always been high between the two races. Years had passed, but many hadn't forgotten the Conflagration. The last thing anyone needed was an excuse for further violence.
As far as the wider public would know, Lord Weaver had been involved in the trafficking of mages, but for nothing too different from the underground brawls that were known to take place. A proper report would be given to the Guildmaster, as well as to Ebott's royal families. They would negotiate what further justice was to be carried out.
"I can't spare anyone to escort Lady Meadow all the way to the capitol," Ferris overhead Falchon explain to Castellar, "but we'll take her as far as we can. You've both worked hard. Don't worry and get yourselves home."
When the avian glanced her way, she avoided his gaze. First mission or no, she didn't need anyone checking up on her.
Still… for her to have nodded off while she was on her feet, she must've been more exhausted than she thought. Had it really only been a few days since they'd arrived to Hunters Hollow? They'd rushed to get here and had worked through the night without a moment's rest. Looking outside, the young woman stared at a bright, open sky. It was already late into another morning.
Not too long after their horses were returned to them, Meadow Weaver was brought out in cuffs. She didn't struggle, meekly following after the soldiers with a passive expression. From what Castellar told Ferris, Meadow was the reason he'd returned to the castle early. Knowing what her uncle had planned, she'd rushed to fetch the skeleton before it was presumably too late.
Which also meant confessing that she'd long been aware of Lord Weaver's crimes. For something of this scale, whole households could be subject to punishment. If young King Asgore was anything like what others described his as, then maybe she would only receive a light sentence. If not…
Ferris focused on strapping her belongings to her saddle. She'd considered thanking the girl earlier, but it was possible that it would only come across as empty praise.
Castellar eventually joined her. Before the pair could say their goodbyes to Falchon and ride off, Meadow startled the guards as she hurriedly brushed past them to reach the two mages. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, then curtsied as best as she could.
"Master Castellar! Ferris! Thank you for your mercy!" was all she could ramble out.
Ferris was baffled. Mercy…? To her, it still seemed far too early to call her arrest anything close to mercy just yet. And how could she say that with her uncle dead by their hands? The young woman already half-suspected that the girl didn't have the best relationship with her family, but when so many other arachne had fallen…
She didn't know how to respond.
Meanwhile, Castellar regarded the girl with his usual sternness. "Mercy doesn't come cheap just because you aren't made to pay the debt," he warned her, "Lucky for you, yours is but a drop in the sea compared to your uncle's. Nevertheless, be ready, Lady Meadow. There will be many trials ahead of you."
He was right. Even if Meadow did survive, the Weaver name would be no more. That was the bare minimum that Ebott's ruling houses would demand. Stripped of her noble class, still a child in an unforgiving world, it was difficult to say how she'd fare.
However, as Ferris and Castellar left Castle Weaver to their backs, the skeleton told her, "Do not pity that one. She was clever enough to come find me when she did and the spider clans look after their own. I assure you; she knows how to handle herself."
Ferris fought back an involuntary shudder. She didn't fully understand what he meant by that, nor did she want to hazard a guess.
Nothing else was said between the pair until they reached the outskirts of town, when Castellar prompted, "Did you really not think to wait for me?"
It took Ferris a second to realize he was talking about the previous night. He looked just as irritated as he did when she'd reported the attempted poisoning to him and Falchon. She shrugged, "He forced my hand."
"You feigned paralysis and allowed yourself to be carried into an underground labyrinth behind a locked door."
"I tricked a criminal into revealing his intentions."
"You were nearly eaten. Twice," he spat, moving his glare from her to the road ahead of them, "Stupid girl…"
She clicked her tongue at that last comment, unwilling to dignify it with any other kind of response.
The conversation forced her to play back the night's events in her head for a third time. Even now, it was hard for her to gauge what she'd done right or wrong, or what all she could've done better. Was there any clue they'd missed? Was it ok to leave things as is, or did she need to undue it all?
As she began to relax in her saddle, her hands trembled. Ferris tried to stop them by tightening her grip on the reins. However, sensing that something was off, her horse stopped mid-gait. Ferris gave the mare a light tap with her boot to nudge it forward without success.
Suddenly, her vision went dark as a bundle of fabric was thrown in her face. It was Castellar's cloak.
"The air is chill," he said, turning his own stallion along a nearby road, "Put that on. As a skeleton, I can brace against it better than you can."
Ferris had already wadded the cloak into a ball to hurl it back at him when she realized he was headed in the wrong direction, "Uh, Numbskull… We need to head east."
He didn't stop, "I'm making a short detour."
As he moved further onward, Ferris drew the cloak around herself and she weighed her options. A part of her was tempted to leave him. She knew the way back to the Boroughs well enough. However, on the slight chance that something happened to him, Madame Valda would never let her hear the end of it. Not even leaping into the past to correct the error would save her.
Although she relented, she wasn't at all thrilled to learn that the 'short detour' was in-fact a nearly one-hour ride along the complete opposite path of where they needed to go.
They travelled all the way to the mouth of Warbler's Creek, which widened to a deep pool encircled by a natural stone wall. The formation of the rock was similar to that of a bird with its beak open. Water poured out of this opening, joining the current with a playful sound.
Ferris braced herself for the worst, but there was nothing to fear. Castellar never explained why he wanted to come out all this way, no matter how much she prodded. He just gave his horse a moment to drink and encouraged her to do the same.