Fae stepped boldly up onto a raised dais, standing in the pool of ominous purple light cast by high lanterns. There were no harsh spotlights at the start of this scene, so she could actually see out at the theater’s seating, could see the faint outlines of the astral crowd that was judging their performance.
“The time has come!” she proclaimed, endlessly grateful that she’d managed to open this dialogue with a clear, steady voice. Stage fright was nothing to scoff at. And Wasuryu was doing an effective job of shaking up their performance. But she wasn’t going to let him stop her from succeeding. No way. And this scene was a perfect moment to recapture her hopes and dreams, to declare her commitment to Delilah and all the others in their quest to turn the Key of the World. “Arcaea seeks to strip away our courage, to extinguish the light of hope in our hearts. But look!” She turned, pointing at a part of the stage still bathed in shadow. “Even the Undying Night can’t stop us from reuniting!”
New purple lamps clicked on, their flickering glow revealing a pair of apparatus. Upright, with wooden arms and legs, chained to one was Olivia, and to the other was Madeline. The Star sisters joined Fae on the dais.
“We found them!” Mercury cried, relief flooding her voice. She was clearly on the verge of tears — happy tears — but those tears never came. She couldn’t allow that, had to sell that overwhelming emotion without actually shedding tears, because in a few moments, she’d need to sing.
Crying was not very conducive to effective singing.
“We have to open the way forward,” Neptune said.
“Allow me!” said Jupiter, leaping to the edge of the dais. She raised a hand skyward, clenched it into a fist, and then punched down, striking the edge of the dais. A rumbling sound ensued, and trapdoors concealed in the stage opened up — out of sight of the audience, of course — to allow pieces of a stepping-stone pathway to rise up, shaking with the rumbling sound. When all pieces had risen, the rumbling stopped, and Jupiter stood, posing triumphantly.
“Olivia!” Fae cried, leading the way across the stones. “Madeline! Hang in there, we’ve got you!”
She and the Star sisters swiftly undid the pair’s bonds, lowering them carefully from their prisons and laying them on the ground. Both were feigning unconsciousness. Olivia was the first to stir, and then Madeline beside her, and the two looked up at the girls gathered around them. “You… found us,” Olivia said. Tired, weak, but regaining her strength quickly. “Thank you.”
“Did you ever have a doubt?” Jupiter asked, grinning.
“This land breeds doubts,” Madeline said, slowly sitting up. “It was hard to remember…” She rubbed her head, then slowly shook it, wincing at some internal pain. “It was hard to remember all of you. Hard to remember hope. Hard to…”
“But there’s no more need for that,” Fae said. She stood, holding out a hand to Madeline. Madeline took it, and Fae helped her up. They smiled at each other, and then embraced, Fae holding her tightly. “You’re safe, now. And together, we can illuminate this darkened land.”
“The Land of Undying Night,” Mercury said, helping Olivia to her feet. She turned to the audience. “Once, long ago, it was the Land of Undying Hopes. Darkness coated the land, but it is not as undying as it claims to be.” She smiled, and spread her arms wide. “Together, hope springs anew.”
A piano sounded, playing a few faint, stage-setting notes. Into the silence that followed, Mercury sang. Softly, carefully, almost speaking the lyrics, adding just enough melody to call it a song.
“There are times in our lives when the world seems to shrink
The walls, closing in
And we’re left all alone
Those are the times when we must carry on
The night is not without dawn
Hope will rise”
The piano came back, starting up a bright, upbeat tune. Sparse at first, but after a few measures, it picked up a bit more. Drums joined in, light and steady, establishing the pace and turning the song into a toe-tapping, hopeful tune. While the instruments set the stage, Mercury walked along the stepping-stones, and then jumped off from them to a new setting — a small island, with grass and flowers blooming around her feet. Lights snapped on, not the ominous, dark purple glow of the lanterns, but the bright light of day. Mercury grinned, and then launched into the next part of the song.
“We’ve traveled far from where our path began
Through trials, dangers, and tasks we’d never have dreamed
What none of us could ever have done alone
Together, hearts united, we found a way”
As she sang, Mercury moved across the stage. More bright lights snapped on. New stage pieces popped up, displaying more grass, flowers, and trees blooming in even this dark land, a land without hopes — or so it claimed to be. And as she did, Fae, Jupiter, and Neptune helped Olivia and Madeline, whose strength swiftly returned, over to this patch of light and life, joining Mercury, though not singing with her yet. Mercury continued, in the most rousing part of the song, with an instrumentation that swelled in a way that always made Fae’s heart glow:
“Here we stand
Strong in the light
Hand in hand
We come alive!”
The six girls took each other’s hands, lifted them high, all of them smiling, full of light and hope. Sure, Wasuryu was here, but what could he do? This was their show. This was the high point of the first act, and everything was on point, like it had never been during rehearsals. Fae’s confidence soared, and as the instruments led the way forward, she let go of her friends’ hands and stepped ahead of them, taking center stage for one of the few moments in the show when she had singing lines.
More than she’d ever been during rehearsals, she was confident. She could feel the encouragement from her friends flowing into her, flooding her heart, chasing the stage fright away. What had she to fear? This was her moment, her moment to cast aside the darkness in the most powerful way possible.
Through art. And specifically in this case…
Through song.
She took a breath, opened her mouth, and started her stanza.
“Raise —”
But she barely got out the first word before it all went wrong. In came another voice. A cold, sinister, horrible voice that sent an icy shiver down Fae’s spine.
“Raise your eyes skyward to see the darkened star
Casting its shadows to drown out every light”
Wasuryu had not only robbed Fae of her moment in the spotlight, not only commandeered her favorite song in the entire show, but had also, as was his way, twisted, corrupted, morphed it into something awful. He shifted the bright, uplifting key into a minor, foreboding shadow of itself. He stepped in when they weren’t even halfway through the best song in the show, ruined it, and then ended it prematurely. The instruments kept up, for two lines, and then faltered, and Wasuryu stopped singing. He stepped onto the stage, his cloak billowing around him as discordant notes faded away.
“I’m terribly sorry,” he said, grinning an awful reptilian grin. “Did I ruin the moment?”
Fae found herself flipping to extremes. She’d just been supremely confident, ready for anything, awash with courage and light and hope. Now…
Now she felt her heart retreating, beaten down by the worst possible thing happening to someone who was not at all suited to the stage.
Being interrupted.
For some reason, more than being afraid, or unsettled, or even sickened by Wasuryu, she was embarrassed. All the emotion she should be directing at Wasuryu, all that should have been rage and disgust at the one who’d ruined the best song, was instead directed at herself. She felt put on the spot, exposed, humiliated.
“How dare you?” Madeline asked, stepping between Fae and the wicked Dragon.
“I dare whenever it suits me, to whatever I wish,” Wasuryu said. He took a step forward. The grass and flowers — not real, but stage props — wilted, withered, and shriveled up, swiftly finding themselves replaced by cutouts and sculptures of death and decay. Music returned from the pit, but it was ominous ambiance, soft droning strings and the occasional frantic minor triplet on the keys, the occasional rumbling roll of a bass drum. “Did you think ‘Undying’ was a misnomer? A simple rebranding of what this land once was? Silly little children. ‘Undying Night’ means exactly what it says. The Darkness will not be cast aside. The light will not flourish here. It breaks in, just enough to make you brave, just enough to give you hope. And then, when it suits me, I step in. And the light is chased away.” The spotlights all suddenly clicked off. The stage was bathed in shadow, the only lights dim and diffused, coming from spread-out lanterns of deep purple and midnight blue. “The life turns once more to death.” The last bits of greenery and vibrant color beneath their feet vanished, replaced by barren wasteland. “I rule this dark, deadly demesne. And my rule will never falter. You will all succumb to the Undying Night.”
“Just try and beat us!” Jupiter said, pointing at Wasuryu with confident poise. “You don’t stand a chance!”
Wasuryu chuckled. “Saccharine platitudes won’t win the day,” he said. “And if you wish to challenge me… you’ll need to get through my acolytes.”
Wasuryu stepped back, vanishing into shadow. Jupiter and Mercury dashed forward, but stopped as three figures emerged to block their path — three of Wasuryu’s cultists.
Three?
Fae turned in a slow circle, looking all around. Wasuryu had come in with four. Sure, they’d “defeated” the “Warden” in the opening scene of the show, but that hadn’t felt conclusive. Fae had been certain he’d come back.
But he was missing. She should probably be relieved — one less foe to worry about — but Fae didn’t feel that way.
She was unnerved. Something wasn’t right here. There was something else going on, wasn’t there?
“We’re all over it!” Mercury said. She waved her hand, and Madeline surreptitiously flicked her paintbrush Talisman, forming a trail of glowing light that shot from Mercury’s hand and washed over one of the acolytes. The cultist cried out, then fell, tumbling out of light into shadow. The other two fled, and Wasuryu’s laughter echoed all around.
“So the next stage begins…” he said, “and so the crushing finale draws ever nearer.”
“Show yourself!” Jupiter shouted. But Wasuryu laughed, and remained hidden.
Music suddenly swelled, and Sonya’s voice came in as the narrator. While she described what was to come, Fae diverted some of her attention to conversing with her friends through their bond.
Keep an eye out for the acolytes. And keep an eye on Wasuryu. Something’s… something’s not right.
It was Madeline who replied, with an observation that made Fae shudder: Wasuryu looked more solid, didn’t he? Like he’d gained more power since he arrived.
Hold up, came Mercury’s voice. But if that’s the case, I mean, the only way he could have gotten more solid would be…
Into the ominous mental silence came Neptune’s serious tone: The Warden we defeated at the start might no longer be here. Not as he was.
Fae shuddered. Wasuryu hadn’t brought his entire army of cultists. He’d brought four. But he’d come to them in physical form, Something that took a great deal of power and planning to accomplish. He needed soul data, memories, in large quantities, to create even the grotesque, falling-apart body he had.
Had he consumed his entire cult, save four? And now, here on the stage… had he, when the girls had continued the show, unbeknownst to them, taken the first failed acolyte and consumed him, too?
Sonya set the stage for them, and the girls moved into a new phase of the first act, a final confrontation that put them up against the remaining two acolytes before the Gates of Ardun, the pathway to the heart of Arcaea, where the girls hoped to restart the light that had been lost from this once beautiful land.
Their improvisations won the day. With music, song, dance, and incredible stage presence, Neptune and Olivia stepped up and were the stars of the first act’s climax. The two acolytes were vanquished — theatrically, not literally — and the girls started through the Gates. But as they walked in triumph, Wasuryu’s laughter echoed all around them.
“The trials are only just beginning,” he murmured. Another roll of laughter, then the instruments swelled in an ominous, frightful melody to close out the act as the curtain fell.
The girls didn’t waste any time on the stage. As soon as the curtain fell, amidst the faint, ghostly applause of the astral audience, they raced to their backstage area, and to the waiting Sonya, Toryu, and Ciel.
“He’s just trying to mess with us,” Mercury said. She laid a reassuring hand on Fae’s shoulder. “Don’t let it get to you.”
“There’s more than that,” Sonya said. “Fae, you were right to worry about the acolytes. The four that came with Wasuryu… they’ve all vanished.”
“All of them?” Jupiter asked, eyes wide. “But then… I mean… vanished? Seriously?”
“He must have used them for his own gain,” Fae said.
“But then why bring them in the first place?” Neptune asked, a hand to her chin. She mused for a moment, then shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. But we don’t have much time.”
“Toryu, Ciel, did you notice anything that might help us?” Madeline asked.
Toryu puffed at his pipe, a rare gleam of anger in his eyes. “Sonya is right about the acolytes,” he said. “They have vanished. I never saw the moment of their vanishing, so I can’t be sure, but I caught glimpses of Wasuryu when you could not. His body has become more solid, and larger, too. He’s gained power.”
“It is the rule of Revue Palace,” Ciel said. “He took advantage of it for his own gain.”
“What do you mean?” Fae asked.
“Through performing, their souls shone brighter than they could otherwise,” Ciel said. “Even if they were not very skilled, they didn’t need to be. He took them into himself when they shone brightest.”
“He used them,” Fae said, a sickening knot twisting in her stomach. “He used this place, used this stage, is trying to use us, all for his own selfish gain. It’s…”
It was horrible. When would it stop? If Wasuryu could interrupt them, could ruin their songs, and could even use this place for his own gain, could turn the stage the girls had spent so much time preparing to his own advantage, did they even stand any hope of prevailing against him? Could they possibly win, when —
“I have a plan,” Sonya said. All eyes went to her, and Fae felt something through their bond, something she’d never felt from Sonya before.
Confidence.
Sonya was a very withdrawn member of their group. That wasn’t uncommon, when half of them were introverts, but Sonya was particularly withdrawn, keeping to herself, and she’d never seemed to fully recover from being the Broken Vessel. She carried those scars with her, carried old fears long after she’d been healed.
Until the Hall of Reflections. Something had shifted there, when Fae and the others had given her hope that Wellspring, her unique and destructive power, could be used for good. Now, Fae was seeing and feeling the culmination of that change.
“I’m keeping the details close to my heart,” Sonya said, and there was an apologetic softness in the smile she gave them. “Just in case, I want to make sure it can be as much of a surprise as possible. But I will take the stage. Once, and only once, at what I hope will be the most climactic moment — and most opportune. But I’m going to need your help to make this work. And not just the performers.” She turned to Toryu and Ciel. “I’ll need your help, too.”
A robotic tweedle sounded, and Core came flying up to her, bobbing in front of her face, his purple display screen showing a message: “I can help, too! I’ve detected several anomalies in the magical energy containing Wasuryu’s physical form.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up a second,” Jupiter said. “Magical energy ‘containing’ his physical form? Anomalies?” Her eyes lit up. “It’s not the same as a body. Of course not. He needs a ‘Vessel,’ that’s what he keeps chasing Fae for. That physical form, it’s like a, a…”
Core chirped twice, a new message appearing: “A cage.”
“That’s it!” Jupiter said, pointing. “A cage! He’s caged his actual self in a physical construct, but of course it has anomalies, because he created it from a bunch of different soul data, memories and souls from countless other people. That’s gotta be chaotic. Can you give us details on the anomalies?”
Core did a little flip, chirruping with enthusiasm. His screen flickered, and then displayed, not words, but several different images of radial diagrams, bar graphs, and other analyses that Fae couldn’t make sense of. She got some of the explanations as they bubbled up from Jupiter’s active mind, but she was only getting what rose to the heights of Jupiter’s conscious thought, what she couldn’t help but leak into their bond, so it still didn’t make much sense to her.
But she got the basic gist of it, as Jupiter and Core discussed things.
Wasuryu’s physical form had weaknesses. It wasn’t as powerful, or as stable, as he’d like them to believe.
Sonya, in particular, took great interest in this information. And it was in this discussion, as the rest of them swiftly changed into their Act Two costumes, as Toryu and Ciel returned upstairs to prep the lighting and setting, that Sonya’s core objective came through loud and clear through the seven-part bond.
She didn’t have a plan for stopping Wasuryu, or defeating him, or escaping him. She didn’t have a plan for outsmarting him, or tricking him.
Her objective was very simple, and complete.
She was preparing to annihilate Wasuryu once and for all, body, mind, and soul. To end the Wicked Dragon forever, so he could never harm or haunt them ever again.
And Fae found herself stepping back out onto the stage for Act Two full of hope. From how Jupiter and Core discussed things, from how Sonya took their information to heart, from how they modified their plans to deal with Wasuryu’s attempts at ruining their songs and interrupting their script…
Fae was certain that, whatever Wasuryu threw at them, they’d be able to overcome it.
Before the curtain fell again, Wasuryu would be no more.