Fae, Sonya, Mercury, Jupiter, Madeline, Ciel, Toryu, and Core gave Olivia and Neptune the space they needed — and then listened in awe. Olivia played her viola, and Neptune sang along without words. This viola and vocal duet had a deep, powerful resonance and harmony that washed over all of them. For the girls especially, it had a more profound effect. Music was the language of Olivia’s heart, and tied to Olivia’s heart as they all were, they understood her better than ever. She carried a heavy weight. For all her calm disposition, she held a great burden of the past, of the history she’d lost hold of when she’d become the Sealed Vessel, and all that had been left behind. She had lost so much.
There was an ache, deep and pervasive, in her heart. But it didn’t overwhelm her. It was a part of her, but not all of her. There was a confusion, an uncertainty, and a sense of dread — would this ache, would this weight, one day overcome her? Why did she feel so calm, so steady, despite all that she’d endured, all that weighed upon her?
And yet it was true — she did feel calm, and steady, in the midst of it all. Perhaps in spite of it all. The Olivia who had served as an anchor for the rest of them in the storm of mental and emotional feedback was very much the Olivia that they heard here, in her song, through her heart.
And during that song, seeing that part of Olivia and her heart, Fae reached out. Just a little touch, a little, gentle reminder — Olivia had wept with heavy, seemingly endless, tears the day she’d cut the seals over her memory and all of what she’d lost had come rushing back in a flood. She’d been hit by that weight, and let it all pour out of her.
You aren’t numb. And if that ache gets too strong again, if the tears come out again… that’s okay. Those kind of tears are never a bad thing. And we’ll all be here to cry with you.
Olivia and Neptune’s song changed, shifted, their hearts intertwined as they found a new hope and peace and let that pour out of them. A soaring crescendo opened forth the musical pathway they sought. The walls of the corridor opened in a doorway of light, and even as Olivia lowered her viola, and Neptune took a breath, the final notes hung in the air, resonating beyond the song’s end.
Mercury was the first to the pair, wrapping them both up in a tight embrace, being mindful of Olivia’s instrument. “I’ve never heard you sing like that,” she said, grinning at Neptune through tears. “Pretty sure I’ll never hear anything more beautiful again.”
“The pathway won’t stay open for long,” Neptune said, wriggling free. All of the unsaid bubbled over through her heart, so though she didn’t express them openly, the others felt her embarrassment mingled with pride. She looked at Fae. “Ready to go?”
Fae nodded, starting towards the doorway. When she reached Olivia, she reached out and held her hand, just for a moment. Their eyes met, and Fae smiled. There wasn’t anything that she could say to express her own reaction to the song, but she didn’t have to speak. Olivia knew, and her gratitude ran deep.
Through the doorway Fae went, blinded momentarily by bright, golden light. When she emerged on the other side…
It wasn’t at all where she’d expected to end up.
In fact, she didn’t even know where she was. But it was dark, that was for sure. She stepped aside to make room on the stone walkway for the others as they followed her through, and took stock of their surroundings.
They were in some kind of tunnel system. An underground waterway, from the looks of it. Beside the wide stone walkway ran water, though it was… strange. Noiseless, first of all, which certainly wasn’t characteristic of running water. And secondly, the water was running upstream. There were numerous little waterfalls, but the water wasn’t falling down, but instead rising up. The water ran backwards, silently. What strange place was this?
The next startling thing was that no one knew. When Toryu came through the doorway last, they all looked to him for answers, but as he looked up and down the tunnel, puffing on his pipe, he shook his head.
“Curious,” he said, a quizzical crease wrinkling his scaly forehead. “I do not believe I have ever been here before.”
“Is this some uncharted Location?” Jupiter asked. “Did we end up in the middle of nowhere?”
Core tweedled cheerfully, flashing a message on his screen: “Don’t panic, Jupiter. The unexpected is part of every good adventure!”
“And we aren’t in the middle of nowhere,” Toryu said.
Beside him, Ciel nodded as he knelt on the stone floor, tapping the walkway with his finger. A pulse of white light rippled outward, up the walls, meeting and vanishing on the ceiling. “We’re in Sunset Square,” he said, standing.
“We’re underneath the city?” Mercury asked, looking around. “This doesn’t look — or feel — like Sunset Square at all.”
“Yeah, ‘cause we can’t see the sunset from under here,” Jupiter said, rolling her eyes. “Besides, this is better. Nobody’s around to accidentally discover we’re humans and arrest us.”
“You sure got over your panic fast,” Mercury said. “But yeah, that’s a plus side. On the minus side… which direction should we go?”
They all looked around them, peering down each tunnel that lay before them with the aid of the light from the musical pathway still open behind them. One tunnel ran straight for a bit before turning sharply out of sight to the left. One sloped downwards, vanishing into shadow. The final tunnel rose occasionally via short, wide staircases of four or five stairs.
The musical doorway suddenly shut, and they were all plunged into darkness. Jupiter yelped. Sonya and Fae both gasped.
Core let out a cheerful series of chirps, and a flashlight popped up from his head, shining a bright beam of white light through the tunnel. Madeline Summoned Raven, who emerged from her Summoning portal with a musical cry of joy and freedom, her lavender gleam illuminating the group. Neptune followed up by forming a pair of glowing white orbs that hovered overhead. They couldn’t see nearly as far as before, but they weren’t in total darkness, and that helped greatly.
“Well that’s unpleasant,” Mercury said. “Guess these tunnels are straight-up secret if they don’t even have light fixtures.”
“Thanks, little guy,” Jupiter said, smiling up at Core. Core tweedled happily, bobbing up and down as he shone his light ahead.
“Yes, I know you’ve missed me,” Madeline said as Raven perched on her arm, nuzzling against Madeline’s face quite intently. “I’m sorry for leaving you out of things for so long.”
“We’re still faced with the question of where to go,” Fae said, stepping out into the center of the intersection. “That path went towards a turn, and that one went down… I think.”
“I don’t much like the idea of descending,” Olivia said. “We want to get out of here, right? We need to reach a Daylight Bastion.”
“Perhaps to the Crimson Docks, then?” Toryu asked. “We’ll need to get back up to the city proper first.”
“So the path with the stairs!” Jupiter declared, pointing energetically towards the path, Core’s cheerful beeps and boops matching her attitude as he shone his light on the first set of stairs.
“That seems the best course,” Sonya said, looking to Fae.
Fae nodded. “Let’s try it.”
Forward they went, up the first set of stairs, then another. All the while, the river ran noiselessly beside them, rising as they rose up inverse-waterfalls. Their footsteps seemed louder than they probably were on the stone thanks to the eerie nature of silent running water. It all felt like there should be more ambient noise, but there was nothing. No distant whistle of wind, no rush and run of water, no faint rumbling of city activity high above them.
Raven eventually started flying around them, stretching her wings in the low tunnel. She and Core got along quite well, singing and chirping back and forth.
“Hey, there’s a light up ahead!” Jupiter said, rushing up the next small set of stairs. “See?”
Far down the tunnel, beyond where Core’s flashlight could reach, a faint white light could be seen, as if coming from around a corner. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a sign that they were going the right way.
When they reached the distant, high corner and turned, they were astonished at what they found — a long staircase, rising up to a high door, white and gleaming, patterned on its surface with elegant golden tracery.
“I feel like that doesn’t lead out to the city,” Mercury said, staring.
“Let’s find out!” Jupiter said, accompanied by an energetic tweedle from Core, only to be immediately yanked back by Neptune’s grip on her collar.
“Let’s all go together,” Neptune said in her soothing voice. “And let’s follow the leader.”
Core gave an amused twitter and displayed: “You must follow proper procedure during an adventure, Jupiter.”
“You were gonna rush up there with me,” Jupiter said with a pout.
“We don’t need to act like there’s a hierarchy,” Fae said, starting up the stairs. “Let’s just go together. As a team.”
Up the stairs they went, but when they reached the door, it was obvious who everyone thought should knock. All eyes turned to Fae. She suppressed a sigh — though the other girls obviously felt her slight frustration — and knocked three times. Her knuckles rang on the metallic surface with soft musical tones.
“Goodness, do we have a visitor?” asked a voice from within. It was a cheerful, musical voice, warm and inviting.
A lock clicked, and the door swung inward, revealing a beautiful woman in a white-and-gold hoop dress, her hair done up in an exquisite braided bun. Her eyes were startling — pure white, save for tiny black pinpricks in the center, like distant, pitch-black stars. She smiled, and it was an astonishing smile, warm and kind and beautiful, instantly setting Fae at ease.
“Oh, a multiplicity of visitors!” said the woman, standing aside and inviting them in, without even asking who they were. That was more than a bit concerning, though Fae wasn’t sure if she should be concerned for herself, or for this charming woman’s naiveté.
“Sorry,” Fae said, not crossing the threshold, “but… where are we?”
The woman stared at them. Blinked at them, twice, clearly confused. “Where… oh!” Her smile returned, and she laughed in a light, musical way. “Of course, we haven’t met, yet, from your perspective. I must apologize. My name is Alexandra. And you are Fae Greyson — and company. Let’s see… it’s Olivia Quinn, Sonya Marlow, Madeline Crowley, Neptune, Mercury, and Jupiter Star, Ciel, and Toryu. Right?”
Fae stared at the woman, now more on edge than ever despite all appearances of kindness and warmth. “How can you possibly know that?” she asked, taking a slow step backwards. Madeline, Olivia, and Sonya followed suit.
“I’m so sorry, I —” Alexandra started, looking genuinely apologetic. But it wasn’t anything she said that stopped Fae from running for her life.
It was a more familiar voice that gave her pause.
“Fae?” asked Shias, descending a grand staircase on the other side of the huge entrance hall the door led into. He was accompanied by a short teen girl with blue hair and eyes and a top hat adorned with clocks, and by…
Maxwell.
How long had it been since Fae had met the Master of the Basin of Antiquity? She never thought she’d see him again, that was for sure. Everything pointed to his posting within the Basin’s secret study as a sort of confinement, a permanent situation, a place from which he could not leave.
And yet here he was. And he paused, too, staring at Fae and the Star sisters in undisguised astonishment.
“Okay, I think we all need some explanations,” Mercury said, pushing Fae and the others through the doorway and into the entrance hall. “And it’ll go smoother inside. If your brother’s in there, it ought to be a safe place, right?”
“R-right,” Fae murmured, easily pushed into the entrance hall. It was certainly a grand space, magnificently golden and white, but as for details, she didn’t even register any. There was just the great empty hall, and her brother, and Maxwell.
“Fae, you’re… you’re okay,” Shias said, crossing the hall to her. “You’re really you, right? Back in your own body?” Fae nodded, and Shias smiled. “I’m glad. And it’s good that you’re here. But… I’m a bit short on time.” Maxwell and the blue-haired girl nodded, and Shias took a moment to collect himself. “Right. I think I can explain things quickly.”
And he did, speaking with Fae and her friends about all that had transpired, all that had been happening. He, Shana, Delilah, and Caleb had all largely been in the loop on these events, but Fae realized her own unique situation, and individualized quest, had put her in the awkward position of knowing very little of what was happening. She thought she knew enough because of what Delilah and Alice had relayed about the Key of the World and their role in that quest, but it turned out there was so much more that had been going on.
And Shias really was excellent at condensing all of that information into a succinct, yet comprehensive, explanation. Fae had to stare at him, astonished at how mature he seemed, how calm and collected he was in the face of such dire straits and grandiose proceedings. The last time she’d seen him, she could have sworn he was still just an awkward, quiet little kid who thought too much and spoke too little. But here he was, practically eighteen and seeming several years older than that, mature and intelligent and eloquent all at once. There was no showmanship or flair in how he acted or spoke, but there wasn’t any awkwardness or uncertainty, either.
I never paid attention to you or Caleb. I never wanted to, but…
I guess I never really saw who you were. Or who you could be.
“I think that about covers it,” Shias said when he’d finished. “I need to go to Grimoire to help Caleb and the others. Shana and Delilah are here. Shana will be glad to see you — and I’m sure Delilah will be, too, when she wakes up.”
“Right,” Fae said. Her head was spinning. A battle in Grimoire, Delilah unconscious, Alexandra herself and her mansion and everything new… so much had been going on, and so many people had been connected to each other, and Fae had missed all of it.
“That was a wonderfully concise explanation, Shias,” Alexandra said, beaming at him. “You really are quite eloquent when you decide to speak up.”
“But it cost us valuable time,” Tock — the blue-haired, blue-eyed girl with the clock-adorned top hat — said, eyeing the two wristwatches she wore on the same wrist. “We’re cutting it way too close, here!”
“Then use the chronological dispensation,” Alexandra said.
“We were hoping to save that for a more desperate time,” Maxwell said. “We can only use it once, after all.”
“And this is absolutely a situation that calls for it,” Alexandra said. She waved them off. “Go on! Use the chronological dispensation, rescue the heroes we need, and bring them back here safely. Good luck! And thank you, Shias. I thought it was a sister who should go, but it seems to me you really are the best person for the job.”
Shias nodded and hurried off with Maxwell and Tock, who passed through an open doorway and shut it behind them. Fae gaped — as did the Star sisters. It was the exact same door they’d seen at the Basin of Antiquity, the door that led to Maxwell’s study. After a brief moment, a faint humming sound was heard, and then the door vanished.
“His study really can just fly all over the universe, huh…?” Mercury asked, staring in disbelief.
“It’s a marvelous contraption, isn’t it?” Alexandra asked, smiling brightly. “Burning through its fuel awfully fast, though. I’m really asking far too much of it, but there will be time to refuel when this crisis is finally averted. But really, we should celebrate! After Revue’s marvelous performance —”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, My Lady,” said Adelaida, one of Alexandra’s handmaidens, who had joined them when Shias was explaining the situation. “Fae’s group has yet to go to Revue Palace. Delilah is still unconscious.”
Alexandra looked at Adelaida with pure, innocent bewilderment for a moment, before nodding thoughtfully. “Yes, right, of course,” she said. “Or, rather, I trust you, Adelaida. I really have been getting mixed up a lot lately, haven’t I? Crises are so exciting, but such linear sequences of tension and danger can be endlessly confusing.”
“Chronological displacement’s tough, huh?” Mercury asked, as if she were sympathizing with someone who had a mild allergy, not someone with a unique condition that caused her to experience time in a completely different order and fashion than everyone else.
“It is quite a lot to deal with,” Alexandra said. “Especially now, when it’s my own conception of time and the series of events that has made this plan possible in the first place. But trying to organize it all is utterly bewildering.”
“That’s why you have my sister and me,” Adelaida said, gesturing with a gold, pocket-sized notebook. “Keep telling us everything as you experience it, and we’ll continue to work to organize the events into a linear order as best we can.”
“Thank you, Adelaida,” Alexandra said. She lifted her hand to her forehead, pressing two fingers against her temple for a moment, shutting her eyes. She shook her head, lowered her hand, and smiled at Fae’s group. “Now, then — shall I take you to see your sisters?”
“Yes, please,” Fae said. In the midst of everything new, that was something she could latch onto easily. Her sisters were here, and she could finally see them as she was. She realized, suddenly, that she hadn’t seen either of them — any of her family at all, actually — since she’d returned from the Orphan of the Dawn in command of her own body. The realization had passed her by with Shias, because he’d had so much to tell, and he’d taken seeing her for the first time in so long in perfect stride. But there was no way Shana would take it so calmly.
“How long until Maxwell and them come back with the others?” Mercury asked.
“For them, six —” Alexandra started.
“Three,” Adelaida said promptly and yet casually, as if she was used to this kind of correction.
“— three hours,” Alexandra finished, smiling gratefully at Adelaida. “For us… that is much more complicated. And much longer.”
“Three hours?” Mercury asked, frowning. “And here I thought that study could just zap from one place to the next instantaneously. Kinda disappointing knowing there’s a travel time.”
“It can go literally anywhere in the universe,” Neptune said, rolling her eyes. “One tiny limitation and that isn’t exciting to you anymore?”
“Why is the time they’ll take more complicated for us?” Fae asked.
“Because time runs much more slowly here in the manse,” Adelaida said. “And it appears we’re experiencing a temporal flux that greatly exaggerates that effect. Normally, a three hour trip for Maxwell and Tock would pass as an entire day here.”
“Now?” Madeline asked.
“Now, it could be a week,” Adelaida said. “Perhaps longer. Until the temporal flux is ended, the exact amount of distortion and change remains unclear.”
“A week?” Jupiter asked, eyes wide. “But aren’t we on the clock, here? Isn’t everything, like, super important and we need to hurry up?”
“It’s a week here, and only here,” Madeline said, earning a nod from Adelaida. “This is probably beneficial to everyone, actually. It gives us more time to prepare for what’s next.”
“And what is next sure is complicated,” Jupiter said, hanging her head. Drooping in the air above her, Core let out a despondent mechanical whine.
“Only if you try to follow what everyone is doing,” Alexandra said with her characteristic cheer. “Focus on your own tasks, and it’s surprisingly simple. Especially if you take it one task at a time.”
“The only proper way to approach any crisis, really,” Toryu said.
“Then, first,” Fae said, “I need to see my sisters.”
Alexandra led the way, up a grand staircase and down wide, grandiose corridors. To call it a “manse,” as Adelaida did, was severely underselling the place. Even “mansion” didn’t cover it. This was more like a palace. A surprisingly cozy palace — when Fae peeked into rooms as she passed, she found rooms that abandoned the golden glitter of the corridors for plush carpets, warm colors, and cushioned furniture — but a palace nonetheless.
The trek to the infirmary took them to the palace’s east wing, up another set of stairs and into a circular hub with a service desk and medical equipment, branching out into numerous individual and group examination and rest rooms. Fae bristled at first — the atmosphere of a doctor’s office was always unsettling and uncomfortable — but gentle reassurance from the others through their bond helped her to calm down and see the place through a different perspective. It didn’t have the squeaky-clean sterility that Fae associated with hospitals and doctor’s offices, and various decorations — fantastical paintings here, intricate sculptures there, more colorful furniture here and there — helped offset the white, clean style of the space. Incense was burning on the far side of the hub, mingling with the incense of Toryu’s pipe in a pleasing aroma.
“Right through here,” Alexandra said, gesturing towards an open doorway to the right. “I’ll leave you to it.” She smiled — she seemed to always be smiling, and somehow it always seemed genuine — and stepped aside.
Fae parted the blue curtain that hung over the doorway and stepped in first. The instant she looked across the room, she locked eyes with Shana.
Shana stared at her, and Fae stared back. For a long moment, that was all either of them saw — each other. Silent, stunned, taking it all in.
This was the first time they’d seen each other, face-to-face, since Dreamworld, since the Palette in the Clouds. That was before the Orphan of the Dawn, before Fae got control of her body back, a painfully brief moment that had felt strangely unreal.
It was real now, though. And for all the vibrant color and bright beauty of Dreamworld, Shana looked all the more vibrant and bright here, in the Waking World, in this simple resting room, seated at Delilah’s bedside.
And Shana didn’t stay seated for long. When the shock passed, Shana leapt from her chair, dashed around the bed, and tackled Fae in a hug that nearly knocked her off her feet. She held Fae so tightly, pressing her face against her shoulder, like she couldn’t get close enough to her sister, like she was terrified that if she let go, the moment would end.
And Fae found herself hugging Shana back just as tightly.
“It’s really you, right?” Shana asked. “You’re back in your body? You’re all better?”
And while it wasn’t entirely true, Fae nodded, and said, “Yes.”
That was all it took for both of them to start crying. Shana had always been loud and shameless about her tears, and that was no different now. But while Fae was much quieter, she was no less emotionally overwhelmed as tears flowed freely.
Eventually, Shana pulled away from Fae, giving her space to breathe, both of them looking at each other through tears. Altair came over and pawed at Fae’s leg, so she picked him up and held him close, laughing as he licked her face, drying her tears in his own enthusiastic way.
“He’s happy, too,” Shana said, sniffling as she wiped at her eyes. “He missed you.”
“I missed him, too,” Fae said, rubbing the little blue pup’s ears, which he thoroughly enjoyed. “And… I missed you, too.” She looked at Shana. “I guess… we have a lot to talk about, huh?”
“Yeah,” Shana said, sniffling again and then crossing the room to grab a few tissues, loudly blowing her nose. With a sigh, she tossed them in a trash can and came back to Fae. “There. That’s better. I wish we could just… be. But there’s a lot going on, and I guess we don’t have much time, even with the temporal flux and all that.”
Fae turned to finally look at Delilah, who was resting in bed beside Alice, the girl who Fae still had never really met, she realized. She’d seen her for the first time as a soul untethered from her body, her body under the command of the Sojourner.
Both were unconscious, side-by-side, Delilah’s left hand in Alice’s right. They each wore a matching bracelet, and those bracelets were touching, pulsing with soft, dim white light.
“What happened to her?” Fae asked.
“That’s… well, there are a few long stories, I guess,” Shana said. “Come on. Let’s sit down — oh.” She finally noticed all of the people — and the Dragon — with Fae, sized them up with the room and its three open chairs, and shook her head. “Guess we should go sit somewhere else. But that’s good. We can find Marcus and all of them, and they can help tell Delilah’s side of things.”
Eventually, they found Marcus, Maribelle, Isabelle, Terevalde, Emmeryn, and Shana’s Dawn Riders, and rounded everyone up to sit together in a spacious sitting room. Fae sat with Shana and Altair, who refused to leave her side, on a small couch, while the rest spread out in a circle. Marcus sat on the floor, leaning his staff against his shoulder, and Toryu sat beside him, puffing away at his pipe. Ciel sat with them, preferring the floor, and Annabelle joined them there as well. The Star sisters, naturally, sat together, and Madeline sat with Olivia and Sonya. Terevalde and Emmeryn, the ones Fae had not met before, sat together with the Book of the Key. Isabelle sat with Maribelle, while Rae, Kathryn, and Ben sat together, Rae and Kathryn sidled right up next to each other, Ben a bit distant on the opposite end of the couch.
Around the circle they went, telling their separate stories. Fae and Shana largely took charge of telling their own stories, with occasional assistance from those who had been through things with them, while Marcus and Maribelle took charge of Delilah’s side of things — though none of them could speak for what exactly had happened in Follstavh, the city of fire where Delilah and Alice had been found by Maxwell and Tock.
“So you’re not completely healed,” Shana said when Fae had finished telling her side of things. “But still! You have your body back. You’re you again. That’s good enough for me.”
“I’m jealous,” Kathryn said with a heavy sigh. “I wish we had a soul-bond like that.”
“Sounds a little too close to me,” Ben said.
Kathryn immediately sidled over to him, pouting. “You don’t want to know your teammates and besties better?” she asked in a pleading tone.
“I’d rather do it on my own terms, thanks,” Ben said, hopping over the arm of the couch to join Marcus on the floor. Kathryn kept pouting at him, so he pointedly looked away, fixing his attention on a distant point in the opposite direction.
“It’s got its ups and downs,” Mercury said, even though she was the most sympathetic to Kathryn’s feelings on the matter. “And there were some, uh…”
“Let’s call them growing pains,” Neptune said.
“Putting it mildly,” Jupiter said, grimacing.
“Anyway,” Shana said, reeling everyone back in, “we have to figure out what we’re doing next. Fae and her team need to get to Revue Palace. But they might not be able to get there until Delilah wakes up.”
“And Delilah has the instructions for Revue about replicating the songs of the Lost Bell,” Terevalde said.
“It looks like we have to wait for her, then,” Fae said.
“Waiting’s over, kiddos,” came an oddly chipper — and slightly slurred — voice from the doorway. In came Alice, stumbling slightly and catching herself on a bookshelf, followed by a much more subdued Delilah.
“Stop,” Delilah said, helping Alice stay on her feet. “I told you, you’re too loopy to —”
She cut off as her eyes met Fae’s. Youngest sister to oldest, they stared at each other for a moment starkly different from Fae and Shana’s reunion. For Fae, she was largely caught up in confusion and uncertainty. She hadn’t seen or spoken to Shana since their unexpected reunion in Dreamworld, but with Delilah…
She hadn’t spoken to her since before she’d left for the Enchanted Dominion.
The first moment that came to mind was a night before Fae had even learned that the Enchanted Dominion existed, when three of her siblings had come to her dorm room. Caleb, Shana, and Shias. No Delilah.
How long had it been since she’d spoken to her baby sister? How long had it been since she’d even properly looked at her?
And despite still being small for her age, Fae couldn’t find it in her to call Delilah her “baby sister” anymore. Not because of all of Delilah’s exploits that she’d heard about secondhand, but because of what she saw right in front of her.
Delilah hadn’t grown more than an inch — probably more like half an inch — since Fae had last seen her so long ago. But everything about her looked so much more grown-up. She knew Delilah had cut her hair — she’d caught a glimpse of it in the brief time she’d been at home, when the Sojourner controlled her body — but now she got to properly look at this shorter, asymmetrical cut, and it seemed so much more mature than the long, unruly curls Delilah had sported her whole life. She’d changed her clothing, adopting a more subdued, black-and-white color scheme. She still retained elements of childhood and color, and those were encouraging to see — the cat-shaped hairpin above her ear and keychain with Great Feline Adventures plushies clipped to her belt were a reminder that Delilah was still Delilah.
Fae found herself totally tongue-tied. She had no idea what to say to a sister who’d grown up when Fae had been off doing her own thing. The last time she’d really seen her, really spoken to her, she’d still been her baby sister, wild curls and colorful outfits and all.
And in Delilah’s big blue eyes, she saw something strange, something she couldn’t make sense of. There seemed to be… guilt.
For what?
Alice swayed, then gave Delilah a shove towards Fae. “Go on, go on,” she said, grinning, her startling monochromatic eyes flicking from white to black and back again in rapid succession. “You got stuff to say to her, you know. Better get it out before you lose it.”
“You need to stop talking,” Delilah said, shoving a hand in Alice’s face. “You’re way too loopy right now.”
“I’m on Alice-duty!” Isabelle said, hopping up from her seat beside Maribelle and dashing over to Alice, taking her hand. “Come on, Alice. You need to sit down and get your wits about you again.”
“I’m all about my wits, don’t you worry,” Alice said, but the strange slurring of her words — and the fact that she performed a balletic twirl — said otherwise. Isabelle pulled her away and plopped her down in a chair, watching over her like a mini-sized big sister, patting her hand with mutterings of “There, there,” and “Sleep it off, okay?”
Which left Delilah a few steps closer to Fae. Both of them still staring at each other. Both of them still silent.
It was a four-part mental nudge — from Mercury, Neptune, Jupiter, and Madeline — that helped Fae break the silence. “Hey,” she said, feeling the inadequacy of the greeting with every fiber of her being. “It’s… been a long time, huh?”
Delilah nodded, looking away, with only a murmured “Mm,” in reply.
“A lot’s happened,” Fae said. “I guess… congratulations. On becoming a Paladin. That’s… big. Huge, really.”
Silence. Fae fought the urge to wince, to grimace, at her own inadequacy. She’d never been good at this anyway, and now it felt like the stakes were so much higher. She was supposed to say something right, supposed to find a way to connect with her sister after all this time, wasn’t she?
After seeing how much Shias had changed, had grown, when Fae hadn’t been looking, she realized more than ever how important it was to pay attention to her siblings. Delilah had been through so much, had changed more than any of them.
And Fae had missed all of it.
“I —” Fae started, fumbling for words.
But Delilah cut her off.
“I’m sorry,” Delilah said, and there was that guilt in her eyes again as she looked back up at Fae. “I…” She paused, though, when her gaze drifted, and she saw that large group gathered together here.
“Let’s go somewhere else,” Fae said, starting towards the door. “That’s easier, right?”
“Y-yeah,” Delilah murmured, following after her.
“Go get ‘er, Delilah!” cried Alice, who was promptly shushed by Isabelle.
Fae and Delilah left the room and started down the hall. Slow, meandering, with no destination in mind, they walked side-by-side, Delilah half a step behind Fae.
“I’ve… been needing to apologize for a long time,” Delilah finally said, stopping where the hall opened out onto a balcony overlooking an indoor flower garden. The garden was beautiful, something out of a dream, exploding with vibrant color beneath the golden rays of sunset that shone through a glass ceiling. She placed her hands on the rail and looked down on the gorgeous sight, but her attention seemed to be on anything but the scenery. “Back before all this happened, before we all left Grimoire for the Enchanted Dominion the first time… I had given up on you.”
Fae was silent, standing in the doorway, giving Delilah space. She knew well that it could be a lot easier to say something so difficult when you didn’t have to look at the person it involved.
“Shana asked me if I wanted to come over with her, Shias, and Caleb to visit you,” Delilah continued. “I refused. As far as I could tell, you had given up on all of us. Why should I try to change that? If you wanted to reject your family, then I’d reject you. I thought… I thought that was just logical.” She shook her head, and even though her hair was so much shorter than it used to be, it still had the same fluffy bounce it always had, moving so easily even with just a simple shake of the head. “It sounds so stupid, but I didn’t even realize how upset I was. I guess… I didn’t want you giving up on your family — giving up on me — to hurt. Why should it hurt? We’d never really been all that close. I was too young, when you started pulling away from all of us, to really know you. It was fine, and I was happy, just playing with Shana, Shias, and Caleb. But whenever you came up… it just seemed to ruin everything. You were the distant sister who wasn’t really a part of the family, and I tried to make that official, in my heart, at least. But Mom, Dad, our siblings, everyone kept holding onto you like you belonged in our family. And I just… I didn’t want that. Everyone was happy, everything was perfect, without you.” She stopped herself on the edge of a sob, bowed her head, and took a few slow, steady breaths. Fae stayed where she was, listening, taking it in.
“Why did they want to hold onto someone who only made everything difficult?” Delilah continued. “Did family really matter that much? Should blood bind people so tightly, no matter how they feel about each other? Those were… the kinds of questions I asked. But they all came from the same hurt. I just… didn’t see it. Or didn’t want to see it. So, as much as the youngest child in the family could do, I… disowned you as my sister. When Shana invited me to come visit you, I didn’t just refuse. I got angry at her, too. I didn’t want her to reach out to you, because what if… what if it didn’t go right? What if you just hurt her more? Or what if she succeeded, what if she brought you back, only for you to eventually give up on us again, hurt us again? I didn’t want to face any of that. I didn’t… want to face myself, either. What I was really feeling. I didn’t want to be hurt by someone who didn’t want anything to do with my family. That didn’t make sense to me. Why should I care?” She let out a shaky sigh, gazing up at the glass ceiling, at golden rays of sunset that shifted and sparkled.
“This whole journey,” she continued, turning slightly, so Fae could see the ghost of a smile touch her lips, “it’s just… it’s helped me process things. Helped me see things differently. In a way… it’s a blessing, that you and I didn’t cross paths for so long. I got to spend tons of time with Chelsea and Lorelei, who call each other sisters even though they aren’t related. I got to be in whole new situations, to be in so much danger, to be so frightened, without my family to fall back on, without familiarity to keep me safe and secure. I had to figure myself out — my head, my heart. It really came together when I met Alice. When we went on our mission together, to save Solla and Lunos… Addie said I was ‘like a big sister.’ And then, when I told Alice I’d be a friend, I’d be there for her, she asked more from me. She asked me to be her big sister. And I said yes. I know I’m the baby of the family, but with everything that’s happened… I grew up, a little bit, maybe.”
I’d say you’ve grown up a lot more than a little bit. But Fae didn’t voice that thought, didn’t interrupt her sister as she continued.
“I’ve finally realized what it means to be a family. And what it means to love.” Delilah finally turned to face Fae, looking her steadily in the eyes, serious and heartfelt. “Family isn’t just people who you’re always happy to be with. They’re people you’re stuck with, bound to, even if you don’t necessarily want them. But it isn’t just blood, either. There’s adoption, and there’s people choosing each other, like Chelsea and Lorelei, or Alice and me. But even then, when you choose your family… it’s not always easy. It’s not always happy. But you also can’t let them go. Family… it’s the people you love. And love doesn’t give up. On anyone. Sometimes, that means you get hurt. And the hurt from those you love is worse than anything else that can hurt you. But… somehow… I guess what I’ve come to realize over all of this, is that I don’t want to run from the hurt. I only hurt so much because of you, I only got so angry and upset about you and towards you, because I loved you. And I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried. That’s why I’m sorry. Because I tried to give up on you, and that’s something I never, ever should have done. And I’ve been trying to tell you all of this for so long, and somehow it’s all coming out as this jumbled mess, I’m sorry if it doesn’t make sense, I thought I’d planned this out, I’ve even rehearsed what to say, but none of it’s coming out right at all, and I just… I don’t…”
“It sounds right to me,” Fae said, offering a small smile. She wasn’t good at comforting people, she’d never thought herself good at it. But what Delilah was saying made sense, even if it wasn’t coming out the way Delilah had intended. And in a lot of ways, it reflected Fae’s own journey and feelings.
So freaking tell her that, came Mercury’s voice in Fae’s heart. Don’t keep it to yourself. That’s exactly what she needs to hear right now — that you’re both feeling the same way, and going through the same stuff.
Fae laughed, and Delilah gave her a strange look, so she shook her head. “Sorry, I…” Fae started, getting her bearings. Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them away. “It’s just, what you’re saying… it sounds just like what I’ve been going through. What I’ve been coming to terms with. I ran away from all of you, and I can’t even tell you why, now. I tried to distance myself from my family, and I don’t even remember how it all started. I’ve always been… I’ll always be…”
Introverted.
Withdrawn.
Subdued.
Shy.
The words came flooding in from those with whom Fae shared her bond, and she mentally told them to stop butting in. “I’m not the kind of person who gets really close to people,” she continued. “I’m not the kind of person who expresses myself very well, and… well, I always felt at least a little out of place with you guys. Mom, Dad, Caleb, the twins, you… you were always so expressive, so emotive, our family always seemed so loud and suffocating and not at all where I belonged. I like solitude. I like being alone, I like doing my own thing, expressing myself quietly. And when you’re an adolescent, and a teenager, emotions are so much bigger than you ever thought they could be, and it’s so easy to get caught up in angst and frustration and moods… I pushed you guys away. I liked being alone, and you guys made that hard, so I pushed you away. I told myself ‘they don’t understand me, no one understands me,’ but that’s one of those classic adolescent lines that’s never true. I ran away even from praise — you and Shana, Mom, the three of you were always so excited about my drawing, always so amazed by my animation, always so kind to me. And I ran from that. I don’t even know why, anymore. When Shana came and reached out to me… it was amazing. I was so glad to have her back in my life, but I was also terrified. What if… what if I hurt her again? What if I pushed her away again? You were trying to avoid being hurt by others, but I was so scared of being the one who hurt the people I loved most… I guess that’s why I didn’t tell Madeline when I left on my journey to the Dominion. I was scared I’d hurt her, or scared she wouldn’t come with me, that I’d be rejected… it’s all so stupid, but it was all subconscious, I didn’t even realize it, didn’t even think about it. I always thought of myself as inconsiderate, just not considering others, but all this time, I have been. I’ve just… been scared I’d let them down. I like being alone, but maybe… maybe it was too easy, that way. If I’m alone, I can’t hurt anyone, I can’t be rejected by anyone, I can just stay safe in my little bubble. But… even being alone, I was hurting you. And Shana. I’m… not very good at this. I got thrown into a leadership role and I don’t know how to lead, and I don’t like leading, anyway. I got thrown into a close-knit group of girls and I don’t like being close to people. But… I guess it’s been the same for both of us. We both got to grow. A lot. So…”
“So don’t be sorry,” died on her lips. That wasn’t the right thing to say. Fae had a lot of things she was sorry for, and she knew she was right to be sorry. There was nothing wrong with apologizing when you’d done something wrong or hurt someone. That was the right thing to do, wasn’t it?
It was a thought from Neptune that showed Fae the path forward.
“I forgive you,” Fae said. “And… I hope you’ll forgive me. Because I’m sorry, too. I never should have pushed you away. I never should have hurt you. And I can’t promise I won’t hurt you again… but I’m going to do my best.”
“I forgive you, too,” Delilah said in a voice that made it sound as if that should be obvious, while she sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. “Thanks. I… was really scared to bring this up. I felt so guilty, and I just —”
“We put that all aside, right?” Fae asked. “You apologized, I apologized, we forgave each other… now we have to let it go.” She hesitated a moment, then stepped forward and held out her arms. Delilah stared at her in shock, and Fae suppressed a sigh. “I know I’m not a touchy-feely type, but even I need a hug sometimes.”
Delilah smiled and rushed to her, hugging her tight. Fae hugged her right back, savoring the embrace.