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TEEN: Another Way

Chapter 19: Treachery


Chapter 19: Treachery



Sue came to with a startle, feeling herself jolting forward in shock at the sudden awakening.

But her point of view didn’t shift at all.

Her mind tried to move her body around, turn her head, her eyes, scream for help. Nothing, again and again. Moments later, the perspective shifted, leaning a bit backwards. And then, she spotted something in the corner of her vision, the brown feathers bringing forth a terrifying realization.

This wasn’t her body.

The awareness didn’t stop Sue from trying to thrash against her bindings, at least initially. Each passing moment drove the point home, though, especially with this body’s gradual shuffle along the branch it was perching on. After she’d given up on trying to move, Sue attempted to concentrate on what her temporary host was observing.

The wide path they were hiding beside felt... familiar, but she wouldn’t be able to nail down why even if she’d tried. Its initial emptiness wouldn’t last, though, much to Sue’s horror. She saw Ginger and Alastor walk in from the left side, their appearance oddly detailed. Every single scale in all the stark colors, every single strand of red and black fur, all sharp and in focus. This body must’ve been some good hundred meters away, how the hell-

And then, she saw Solstice enter the scene.

Or, at least, what she thought was Solstice. Forest Guardian, without a crutch and with tattoos covering half their body, initially leading the group approaching from the right before shifting off to the side. She didn’t have the time to think about whether these were Solstice’s tattoos before her host’s gaze narrowed at their sight, so intensely it felt to Sue like an optical zoom.

Motion kept happening all around, but this body’s sole focus continued to rest on what had to be the Mayor. They lifted their left wing and held something green above and just to the side of their center of vision, the realization making Sue gasp soundlessly.

Just before they nocked another feather arrow.

She could only watch.

Seconds dragged out into minutes as Juniper aimed at Solstice, arrow at the ready. The Forest Guardian on the receiving end of her ire looked much more uncomfortable than usual. She glanced around once, twice, and stopped abruptly, her eyes going wide and mouth caught mid-gasp. Another slight motion soon afterwards, their hand clenching two times in quick succession, making Juniper’s focus hone further-

Now.

The single word was spoken in a choir of a thousand silver voices, sentencing the Forest Guardian to their doom. An instant later, Juniper let the arrow loose, streaking across the air with its malicious purple tracer, aimed right at the Moonview’s Mayor.

And then, it missed.

Its aim immaculate, its power beyond compare. And yet, it missed, almost grazing its target’s collarbone. But it didn’t hit the dirt or grass, it hit something else, something obscured, her host focusing on its golden appearance-


And inadvertently waking Sue up.

She was too shocked to let herself come to, her whole body shaking as she tried to stand up as soon as physically possible. All she earned for that attempt was a wave of nausea rolling through her. Stinging pain rushed from her front and back simultaneously, forcing her eyes closed as she sat hunched over on something soft. The sheer adrenaline boiling inside her made even her own breathing too loud, an attempt to quieten it by calming down clashing with her exertion and need for air.

What, where, how, was this real, where am I-

Trying to look around made both her and the being she’d opened her eyes to see jump backwards in shock, their expressions equally startled. Large, almost all black, and very, very hairy. What the hell is this- wait? Large, dark, furry. Night kin. The recent recollection finally caught up with the speed of Sue’s panic, easing her out as she took Jasper’s appearance in.

His presence so close to her bedding was confusing, but that emotion didn’t last for longer than it took Sue to notice the several salves and pieces of clean-ish off-white fabric laying on a stool beside him. Her sudden awakening had caught him in the middle of reaching for one of the former.

And if his scared, frozen appearance was any sign, he was no less shocked by her than she’d been by him.

A couple of quick glances around completed the scene. They were inside of a rough, very rudimentary wooden hut, the rickety planks that comprised its walls not filling Sue with confidence. The bedding beneath her was similarly barebones, a soft woven cover on top of what felt like a bed-shaped mound of leaves.

I'm being tended to. Things are alright. Things are alright.

The most recent... vision provided plentiful fuel for her overactive anxiety, but Sue would not let it dominate her again. She may not have had even the slightest inkling of an idea how Solstice and Sundance communicated with the night kin through telepathy despite the latter’s apparent immunity, but exact words weren’t needed this time.

Hopefully.

“G-good afternoon.”

Her calm-ish voice did wonders, Jasper’s large, bulky frame visibly calming down at hearing her anxiety having waned away by now. A couple of moments later, he continued his original plan and knelt beside the bedding. One hairy hand reached up to take apart something Sue hadn’t consciously noticed until that point.

Several layers of bandages were wrapped around her torso, securing a dressing and other medical-looking pieces of white fabric to the site of the injury. If the size of it all was any indication, the wound they were concealing and helping heal wasn’t very large, thankfully. Even despite that, it still hurt a bit when she breathed. It reminded Sue of the sensations of something touching a fresh, unpleasant cut, except happening every time her lungs drew in air.

Uncomfortable, but not unmanageable.

Sue gave Jasper free access to her recent injury as she tried to scan her surroundings in the search for the rest of her impromptu peace party, regretting the latter immediately. As much as it smarted when just breathing, the injury on her horn kept its worst for last, acting up with burning pain the moment she gave tapping into her sixth sense a shot.

Figures it’d hurt, but not that much...

The realization didn’t help Sue’s confidence much. Jasper’s intervention was very appreciated in the meantime, calming her back down. Once he was done unwrapping the bandage around her horn, he got to applying some of the paste he’d brought with him, but not before Sue got a good look at the damages.

The cut couldn’t have been deeper than a quarter of an inch, the pinky red tissue around it inflamed. The injury itself was almost bloodless by now, only a couple of tiny droplets oozing out the moment the old bandages were removed. No more dangerous than a nosebleed, even if much more painful.

Or so it looked, at least.

It’d be nice to not have to worry about something for once here...

Once Jasper had discarded the used bandage, he applied some of the pre-prepared paste along the cut. The immediate stinging gave Sue some idea as to its purpose, but thankfully, it didn’t last for long. Once he’d finished applying the sweet smelling, yellowish ointment, he wrapped the intervention up by pressing another piece of dressing against her injury. Then he tied a small bit of decidedly well worn bandage around her horn to keep it all in place.

Martian first aid done.

She couldn’t say it all made her feel immediately better or anything, but being tended to felt nice, doubly so after what she’d been through. Still no idea what had actually happened, but at least now she was confident enough to try her luck with her psychic abilities again.

Arms performed their usual routine as she focused, gritting her teeth through the pain radiating from her horn. It still hurt, especially as she moved her mental reach around, but it was just barely tolerable now; letting Sue spot several nearby blobs of consciousness.

Including one of them making their way right towards her.

Alright, hopefully it’s some answers-

Jasper?


A look up at the much kinder of the two big black furry night kin revealed a… very distraught expression. He was on the verge of tears, one hairy arm frozen in the middle of reaching out towards her head. It didn’t look aggressive at a glance- and a glance was all Sue would get. The impromptu medic withdrew his arm and the rest of himself from the scene shortly afterwards, leaving with a loud sniff in his wake.

Just in time for Solstice to walk in through the other entrance.

As much relief as her presence brought the younger Forest Guardian, much of it was undercut by her terrible state. Concern, exhaustion, somber resignation, all clear, not just to Sue’s sixth sense but on Solstice’s face directly. Her eyes and cheeks were glistening, her posture hunched over, steps staggered and shaky. Sue wanted to rush in and hold her tight, to provide some of that well needed comfort. But, alas, she was in no position to do so.

“^S-Sue, I’m glad to see you doing fine...^”

“Solstice, what- what happened!? D-did Juniper attack us?”

“^She attacked me.^”

The clarification helped little with the confusion. Sue was still listening, a long, wistful sigh leaving her mentor at having to go over such a draining and senseless sequence of events again.

“^Juniper tried to strike me, but... something in me sensed it, and I teleported out of the line of fire. A-and then the arrow grazed you, a-and hit Sundance...^”

Sue gasped at that final addendum. The words jogged her tattered recollection, including the vixen collapsing beside her. If she hadn't already experienced it earlier that day, the mention of a feat as sci-fi-ish as outright teleportation would've caught a lot more of her attention.

“I-is she alright!?”

“^She... she’s alive, but in a rough state. Her aura was hit hard, a-and now she’s in a coma.^”

“Th-thank D- the gods...”

In any other situation, Solstice would’ve prodded at Sue’s slip-up to figure out what she’d kept herself from saying, but not now. The mention of damage to something with as undefined of a shape as an aura was difficult to interpret. Sue simply acknowledged her mentor’s words, not wanting to make it any harder for her.

She might not have needed that explanation to get the gist, and in any objective judgement it was a waste of time... but Solstice still wanted to teach it. To help Sue truly comprehend the gravity of the situation.

Just to feel like she was helping anyone at the moment.

With anything.

“^C-come with me Sue, let me show you what I mean, i-if that’s alright.^”

The request came from nowhere, but Sue wasn’t about to reject it, not with the option of checking up on her other mentor. She nodded eagerly, combining her crutch, good leg, the stool that Jasper had left behind, and some good ol’ psychic assistance to pick herself back up. Her nicked horn throbbed a bit at the slight elevation change, but she’d manage.

Their march was very short, the destination just a couple of buildings off to the side. It was similarly bare-bones to the one they had just left, if slightly larger. Its back entry was closer to a large plank that any potential visitors would’ve had to push aside than an actual door. A few simple wooden doodads aside, the inside was barren, though that’s not what Sue focused on.

Sundance was sleeping on her back and breathing deeply; the extent of her bandages limited to a modest one around her right shoulder. At a glance, it looked like she was just taking a nap or something, but the reality of the situation grew more unnerving as Sue tried to concentrate. As new as those sensations still were, Sue remembered the feel of Sundance’s mental presence very well. It was so much weaker now, so much frailer, feeling more so like a cancer patient than a mystic that had helped her with more than one conundrum already.

And that perception was only solidified once Sue felt Solstice’s mental reach adjust hers, helping her focus all the emotions away and hone on her aura, just like she’d been taught.

This feels... so disturbing.

Sue knew little about all this, distraughtly so, but even she couldn’t help but feel... wrong, very wrong. The few days ago, when Solstice had helped her train, hers and Comet’s auras gave her the impression of a large amoeba or something, blob-like and squirming. That was still the case here, but if that blob had been repeatedly slashed with a dull knife, the strikes almost cutting through it. The very thought made Sue feel deathly cold, the injury she’d just imagined more than likely lethal.

And unhelpful to think about, either. Sundance wasn’t dead, she was just injured, her aura kept moving if weakly, the massive gash mending itself ever so slowly. The vixen would recover. It was just a matter of when, not if.

Or at least, that’s what Sue hoped for with her entire self.

“^You’re right, she will recover on her own in time, but it might take a while. Could be days, could be weeks, could even be months. You never know with something as fickle as our aura.^”

“A-and that’s j-just from that one arrow? H-how!?”

“^Stray souls can’t harm flesh, but they rend the soul apart.^”

The explanation clarified exactly nothing, except maybe hinting at it being an act of a ghost or something. If Juniper somehow was a ghost in the same vein as Hazel, she was doing a dang good job at maintaining a corporeal appearance, that’s for sure.

“S-so her body is unharmed?”

“^It wasn’t hurt beyond the shallow puncture of the arrow quill, no.^”

The body was fine, but... the soul wasn’t. What a morbid thing to imagine, especially when taken to its logical conclusion.

“C-could someone j-just die by having their aura... destroyed without their body being damaged, th-then?”

“^Y-yes, they could. Th-thank goodness it’s not what happened here, I... I wouldn’t know what to do...^”

Solstice’s reaction put an end to that entire train of thought, Sue momentarily feeling worse at having steered away from concern and towards morbid curiosity for no reason. She saw the older Forest Guardian’s head perk up at her own mind turning to self loathing, but no words came out.

They couldn’t, of course they couldn’t.

What does one even say to this?

“Wh-why did she attack you? Where is she now, a-are we safe!?”

“^I... I hope we are. She’s no longer in Newmoon.^”

The Mayor’s explanation clarified little, but thankfully, she wouldn’t have to be the one to explain everything. After walking over to gently stroke her best friend’s head, Solstice headed for the exit and tilted her head for Sue to follow.

Most of Newmoon’s inhabitants were gathered around the firepit, the later hour of the day lighting up the whole place in a much more somber way. Sue might not have been able to see their emotions, but she could see their faces.

And they weren’t happy.

“Oh, thank the Dark Lord, you’re alright Sue~.” - Daystar’s exclamation was unexpectedly emotional for her; the lanky body visibly relaxed at Sue’s arrival. The rest of the group mostly mirrored her reaction, relief being easier to read on some people’s faces than others.

Much, much easier.

“Sue!”

“^Oh gosh Miss Sue, you looked so hurt!^”

Before the younger Forest Guardian could even make it to the bench, she was already swarmed by two little ones. Neither Pollux nor Thistle might have even come close to clearing her knee, but they were no less of a walking obstacle, despite that. They reminded the once-human of Spark’s reaction to her doomed attempt to run away from Moonview, with all its emotions.

“C’mon guys, give Sue space~.”

Thankfully, the two didn’t need to be told twice. They managed to keep their boundless excitement in check for just long enough to let Sue sit down. And not a moment more, the kiddos huddling close from opposing sides, night kin fur and psychically enhanced hair both tingling pleasurably. The sight brought some smiles to the assorted gathering, but not that much. The gloomy atmosphere still prevailed for the most part.

Figures this was the right moment to ask what happened-

“Blasted coward!” - Thorns shouted through teeth, the clinking of sharp pincers at the ends of her purplish, segmented body accentuating the expression of anger. As chill as Ginger was previously, he couldn’t help but concur, yellow head nodding weakly afterwards, the freely hanging green skin on its back shuffling against itself.

“I... yeah. Guess you must be mighty confused, eh, Sue?”

Sue nodded weakly, the technicolor lizard responding in kind. It took him unusually long to gather his words. Even once he did, his eternally calm voice was noticeably strained at a couple points, as if fighting to keep itself from rising-

“Yeah. Juniper attacked Solstice, hit you and Sundance. Jasper and Heather helped you two while we tried to get an explanation out of Juniper. She kept going about her usual stuff, how all this was just a ploy so that Moonview can backstab us or whatever. We weren’t having it and tried to bind her so that she could answer for what she’d done and she... sigh slipped through our grasp.”

That last admission made everyone gathered deflate in particular, leaving them either kicking themselves for acting too slowly, or being royally annoyed at others for acting too slowly. Not that it mattered anymore.

The deed was done, and the perpetrator ran off without facing any consequences.

For a couple minutes afterwards, nobody spoke up, the entire gathering plunged in cold, uncomfortable silence. Neither the night kin fox cub nor the magic hat creature took it any better than the rest, though Sue could only sense the emotions of the latter. They were definitely intense. Hurt of betrayal towards Juniper, worry about Sue and Sundance, and most of all, grief at the peace talks and the possibility of reconciliation they brought with themselves being completely ruined.

And... yeah. They were.

The awareness deepened the sinking feeling that had already been worming its way into Sue, with every thought about just how bad the optics of all this were making her want to shrivel up. Two envoys and one tagalong venture to Newmoon unarmed and with no ill intent. One of them gets figuratively stabbed in the back, the second gets hurt in the crossfire, and the perpetrator escapes.

The more Sue reflected on the situation, the more she felt the paranoia inside her grow. What if Juniper didn’t actively escape, but was let go? What if others were in on it? What if the opportunity to decapitate Moonview’s leadership was the only reason Newmoon even proceeded with these talks to begin with?

These were all absurd hypotheticals and Sue knew it. But that didn’t mean that everyone else would know it too, especially not if it would play further into their preexisting distrust. At least Solstice and to a lesser extent she were witnesses and could try to push back on the assassination angle once it would come up, but...

A part of Sue was afraid it wouldn’t end up mattering.

“Guess that’s it for the talks, eh.”

Ginger’s summation was flat and yet tense, lacking his usual laid back impression. Everyone else agreed with various degrees of anger and reluctance, a wordless chorus of nods, sighs, and slumps joining in from all around the fire pit.

Solstice almost looked like she had gone limp for a while, disheveled hair framing slightly tearing eyes. Fear, despair.

Guilt, shame.

“Well. Suppose someone will have to help move Sundance back over to Moonview. I’m down to help.” - A bit more emotion in the lizard’s voice this time, but only so much. It came off less like eagerness to jump into action and more so reluctant agreement to proceed with a root canal treatment just to get it over with.

“Thank you, Ginger.”

Solstice’s voice was quiet and palpably warbling, so close to breaking up that it had to be handled very gently lest it’d spill into tears.

“No worries, Solstice. It’s the least we can do after... all that.”

“What about Sue~?”

Daystar’s addition brought the group’s attention back onto the younger Forest Guardian. Everyone judged how suited she was to walking the distance between here and Moonview, almost inevitably arriving at either ‘no way in hell’ or ‘how in the world did she get in here in the first place?’.

“Good point. I’ve got the strength, but not the arm span to carry two. You could probably lift her without an issue, Daystar, but I imagine having to haul a psychic for a few hours would get very unpleasant fast.”

“And that’s puttin’ it lightly, yeah~.”

Before Sue could wonder what her being a psychic had to do with her carry-ability, Ginger brought on the other obvious candidate-

“Hmmm. Thorns?”

“If need be.”

“I’ll carry her.”

The low, growly voice caught everyone’s attention, their gazes snapping over to what used to be an empty bench just moments ago, now occupied by the adult night kin fox. One day, Sue would understand just how they were doing all this, but that day wasn’t today. The younger Forest Guardian was left a bit startled by their sudden appearance as the closest thing Newmoon had to a leader continued-

“Ya sure, Alastor?”

“Yes... I am. Considering everything... it would only be appropriate of me to make up for my prior offense.”

Sue was torn between finding that attitude commendable on the abstract level, and still being a bit afraid of Alastor following his intangible attack earlier. Had the atmosphere been any less tense, she would’ve probably tried to leverage her position into getting to ask him a question or two, but with everything going on right now... yeah, no.

And the same went for the possibility of refusing the offer. Sure, she could probably refuse and be fine, but the absolute last thing she wanted to do in the moment was drag this on any further through her silly personal preferences.

Solstice, being Solstice, tried to intervene and reassure her- but she was too late.

“Alright, th-that’s fine with me. Thank you, Alastor...”

Nothing was fine in general, and nothing was fine with Sue specifically. It paled compared to others’ problems, though, and so it was best to just try to move on.

The physical proximity to the black and red fox did little to reduce the intimidation factor, especially with his size. He could easily look her in the eyes from head on even when hunched, and the vibrant red claws were in the league of their own as far as looking threatening went.

Being able to do... whatever he did with those shadows earlier was really just a cherry on top, even his physical body sufficient to make him the perfect killing machine. As to whether he used to be one, like Daystar and presumably many others in both villages...

Sue didn’t want to know.

The once-human froze as those clawed arms scooped her up, holding her crutch as tight as she could before he deposited her... in his mane. She didn’t expect it to support her body like it did, but for once, it was a welcome surprise, letting her relax.

Relax and enjoy the view while she was sitting inside the crimson hair of a massive, shadowy, illusionist fox that had committed battery and assault towards her just a couple hours ago. While a bright, multi-color lizard held Sundance in a fireman’s carry just a few feet away from them both, looking utterly unperturbed by her weight.

The same couldn’t be said for warmth, though. His panting grew much louder and more frequent as the impromptu group headed off. Newmoon was shrinking in the distance behind them by the moment, the kiddos waving them off as they ventured into the woods.

For all she knew, this would be her last time ever seeing that village.


As tense as the mood was back in Newmoon, it gradually calmed down with every step, thawing into a muted, uneasy melancholy. Sundance was in a coma, the peace talks were ruined, there was no guarantee how anyone in Moonview would react to the news...

Yeah.

Sue tried to distract herself from that uncomfortable reality, trying steer her mind towards a silly tangent or another. Once that didn’t work, she attempted to resort to her usual Plan B for extra hard bouts of depression. Sleep was no panacea, but it felt like one sometimes when it came to things being wrong inside one’s head. Just somewhere to go away from the sadness, away from creeping grief, into the sweet release of unconsciousness.

And it might have even worked here too, but the once-human wasn’t in a position to find out.

As comfortable as Alastor’s mane was when stationary, the constant jumpiness of his steps made it nigh impossible to get any proper rest, or even really relax. It probably would’ve been crass had she done that anyway, but at least that would be a problem for someone with more spare brainpower to take care of it when the time came.

Namely, future me.

Alas. No sleep this time, or any other rest for that matter either. All Sue could do was observe the passing scenery, its monotonousness making that rather taxing. Striking up a conversation was always a possibility, especially with Solstice to translate for her.

Considering that course of action would’ve been unthinkable even back in her home world, where she didn’t look like an extra from a movie about a Martian invasion and actually knew the language being used around her... attempting to do so here and now wasn’t the best of ideas.

To put it lightly.

Especially with Solstice having plenty on her mind as is.

The Mayor’s emotions weren’t all too different to Sue’s own, deep down. Sadness, anxiety, restlessness. Sue could understand all those perfectly, too perfectly even, but the one that came immediately afterwards was a bit more confusing. Solstice lifted her arm, eyes scanning along its tattoos, and... doubted. Doubted deeply and painfully, the sensation less like dismissing something obviously bullshit a friend of a friend had mentioned, and more akin to questioning whether there even was any reason to keep going-

“^How are you holding up, Sue?^”

Figures that she wasn’t the only one that could sense when others focused on her.

Sue thought through Solstice’s whispered question, the answer hardly pretty no matter how hard she tried to pretend she was alright. She couldn’t pretend, but she could lie, just to not have to rehash what the other Forest Guardian was no doubt already going through.

“^I’m... I’m fine. Just... a bit tired and worried.^”

She saw Solstice nod without looking over at her, her sigh loud enough to be audible even a few feet behind her.

“^I-I wish I could come up with some reassurance right now. But... I can’t.^”

“^It’s okay, Solstice.^”

Nothing was okay, and they both knew it.

The air remained tense after that non-exchange, both of them knowing there was so much more to be said and yet being unable to put any words to these needs. Fortunately for everyone gathered, they wouldn’t be stuck in that moment of tension for much longer, Moonview coming into distant view after turning the last corner.

And bringing them to the very scene Sue had seen in her dream.

She felt her heartbeat spike as her eyes desperately scanned the treeline, trying to find that Duck-damned owl. Nothing, no whiteness of her wing-obscured body, no greenness of her leaf-like hood. She remained blended in perfectly, and all Sue could do was sit and watch-

And try to prevent further tragedy.

“^S-Solstice-^”

“^Hmm?^”

Sue’s word had clearly taken the Mayor out of her train of thought. Her gaze looked up, the Forest Guardian stopping at realizing how close they finally were to her home. The rest of the group stopped behind her, interpreting the pause as a signal to drop their cargo- Sue onto her own legs, and Sundance into Solstice’s arms.

“^It’ll have to wait until later, Sue.^ Ginger, Alastor... Thank you so much for your help. I’m... I’m sorry.”

The once-human’s words caught in her throat as she tried to speak up again; heart hammered faster and faster as she tried to spot the hidden threat.

“You’re welcome, Solstice. And there ain’t no reason to be sorry. You did nothing wrong today.”

“If only we were here just because of today.”

“If only, aye. But, oh well, I doubt that feeling sorry will help any of us here all that much.”

It wouldn’t, and it couldn’t, and everyone gathered knew that from experience. Experience that mattered oh-so-precious-little once the time came for their psyches to start grinding on them because of what they had, or hadn’t done.

Admittedly, Sue didn’t have much brain power to devote to thinking through those peculiarities of the condition of all sentient beings. Not with what she’d seen in her dreams, their memory still so recent and vivid, and...

…no longer up to date. Unless the vision had somehow censored Sundance’s massive, bushy body from Solstice’s arms.

What the hell is going on-

“It won’t, I know. Well, suppose it’s time for us to say our goodbyes.”

Solstice’s words snapped Sue out of that confusing train of thought, the impulse to avoid embarrassing herself kicking in soon after.

“Y-yes, um- thank you for your help, A-Alastor.”

“It is no problem, Sue. I... apologize for my actions earlier, and thank you... f-for saving my son.”

With how low and steady his voice was when calm, Sue didn’t expect to hear a noticeable crack in Alastor’s words, the realization taking her aback. Before she could dwell on it much, Ginger spoke up.

“I see how it is, won’t say goodbye to me, eh?” - The intended joke didn’t land particularly well, the lizard realizing that soon after seeing Sue’s eyes widen in immediate worry at the possible faux pas.

“Sorry, sorry, was just a joke. Yeah, I’m glad you three swung by. Was nice talking and meeting you all. Actually-“

Before Ginger could even complete his sentence, Sue felt a small wave of static go through her. The sensation was familiar enough for her to have an idea of what she’d see once she looked up. And indeed, Solstice was gone, her teleport taking her well into Moonview.

Being left on her own didn’t feel any nicer the second time around.

Especially since she had company with herself.

The lizard continued to speak for a few more moments before looking up and realizing the older Forest Guardian had left. Undeterred, he looked and appeared to repeat the same sentence as before towards Sue directly, sounding kinda like a question. Though as Daystar’s lesson had taught her, it could’ve been just the weird tonality of this language. Left with no way of responding confidently, the once-human resorted to the true and tested tactic of playing very dumb.

Just like she’d practiced with Willow and Spark all the way back.

“Sorry, I-I can’t understand you.”

In looking at Ginger to deliver her response, Sue realized Alastor had left in the meantime. Just her, the technicolor wizard, a large stretch of dirt path in front of Moonview, and wait was that Rainfall on one of the nearby branches-

Right as she focused on what she thought to be the night kin bird, the recipient of her focus flew off, making them impossible to identify with certainty. Though... it wouldn’t be surprising if it was her, based on what Sue had heard earlier. Regardless of who exactly the being she had glimpsed was, Ginger deemed it fit to comment on it himself as well. The chittering warble that ended his response was probably intended to be perceived as laughter.

Heh, guess my confusion is a bit funny- wait, where are you going?

Sue could only blink in surprise as she watched Ginger finally pick up the slack and head towards Moonview. She had no idea how to react to that with the supposed exile in place, left stunned until the colorful lizard himself glanced at her over his shoulder. A flick of his head toward the village sent the green skin hood flying.

Not like she had anywhere else to go.

Her arm wasted no time complaining once it was time to head out, the few hours of reprieve seemingly not enough for its tastes. Sue was split between wanting to be finally freed from the need to use a funky-shaped stick just to walk anywhere and telling her own limb to get a grip, and the latter impulse seemed to be winning. As weird as it was to admit that, her crutch had begun feeling less like an inanimate tool to be passed on once she was done, and more like a part of herself. A rough, heavy, occasionally unwieldy part of herself that probably had several splinters waiting to get back at her, but a part of her all the same.

Especially since the odds were that even the crutch was alive and a specimen of the local magical fauna. Not a massive chance, sure, but a non-zero one all the same.

Okay, no, scratch that idea. She would definitely not want to have some unidentified life form by her side every time she slept.

Except if it had been Lilly in disguise all along.

Before she could get any deeper into that inane train of thought, her sixth sense finally conquered the little that remained of her attention span. At last, Moonview’s entrance, an important night kin in tow, and possibly another in the surrounding trees.

Exactly zero idea of what Ginger was planning and how badly it would go.

She didn’t know whether this situation or a peeping tom crutch were more uncomfortable to think about, but it was nothing if not a close matchup.

To her immediate relief, the first few steps into the village weren’t particularly eventful. It wasn’t to last, though. Bit by bit, people around her realized just who it was beside her, their reactions as varied as their appearances. Some were entirely neutral and unbothered, clearly not understanding why this particular newcomer would be more attention catching than any other. Their perspective was admirable, especially when it manifested as polite friendliness. Ginger gladly returned every greeting that came his way as he looked around.

Others... were more hesitant.

The further into the village they ventured, the more instances of all out shock there were around them. Many passersby just stopped where they stood to stare, some left frozen like this for ages as the unexpected pair moved past them, partially paralyzing traffic wherever they went. Shock was a near universal sensation from those who reacted at all, but the follow-ups varied greatly.

Some were too uncomfortable to keep looking. A few were afraid. Both reactions inevitably culminated into the one experiencing them trying to scoot away unnoticed, just to not have to deal with these emotions anymore. Most were just ashamed, often deeply so. They wouldn’t run, but they didn’t have it in them to watch, either, staring away in unease. There were a few blips of enmity here and there, but none of them resulted in any escalation, thank Duck.

One near-murder because of someone being a hateful, bloodthirsty idiot is enough for today.

All the while, Ginger himself didn’t appear to react much to anything going on around him, at least as far as any visible reactions went. He definitely noticed some passersby, occasional glances at the louder grumbles coming from the crowd a clear sign of that, but didn’t act on them.

Be it because of his personality or because of wanting to maintain a low profile, it was probably for the best.

He clearly didn’t fully understand her inability to comprehend what he was saying, at least if the occasional comments were any sign. Keeping quiet and just not responding ought to have been enough of a tell, right? Sue certainly hoped so, and that he wasn’t relying on her lack of responses for any decisions...

This was a silly concern, and she knew that well. But, good Duck, did the current situation not make remaining stress free even about the dumb stuff easy in the slightest.

Eventually, they made their way over to the areas of Moonview Sue was growing familiar with, the crowd’s reactions changing. Everything from earlier was still there, but now a few onlookers had walked over from the other parts of the village as the news spread.

Most of them were on the younger side and very curious about it all, but decidedly not all. The couple strands of genuine malice she’d felt from the crowd sent shivers down her back and fins, especially since she couldn’t narrow down who did these emotions come from exactly.

Also, shivers going down an injured fin hurt. Ow.

After turning another corner, Sue briefly paused at feeling the last emotion she would’ve expected to sense in these circumstances: excitement. Though... hold on, was this excitement towards Ginger or-

Her answer buzzed in front of her face before she could even finish asking herself the question.

Basil had no business being as excited and happy as he was with how tense the situation all around him was, but for the good of everyone gathered, he didn’t care one bit. He waved excitedly at Sue while holding the nameless brown caterpillar in his other stinger arm, the little one continually trying and failing to wriggle out of his dad’s hold.

Hers wouldn’t be the only attention Basil would end up catching, though. The bee’s excited buzzing got Ginger to speak up as well, his voice sounding genuinely interested.

Based on the insect’s utter lack of reaction to the lizard, he likely had no idea who Ginger was, and for the better. Way better, Basil’s constant stream of buzzes and clicks eventually culminating in him handing his little one for the night kin to hold, taking the technicolor lizard by surprise if his eyes opening all the way for a moment were any sign. As surprising as that development was, Ginger went along with it, carefully holding the caterpillar and even scritching under their chin with one finger, much to the insect infant’s audible delight.

All the while, Sue went through the by now familiar motions, double checking the surface she was standing on to avoid the repeat of her past mishap. Extend left arm, tune out emotions, focus on-

So many people, so much attention, ah!

The once-human recoiled at her attempted telepathy, doubling over at how painful her brief try was, for her mind and fin alike. She felt she owed Basil clear communication because of what had happened, and here she was, left effectively mute again.

The thought provided much more kindling for the fire of her anxiety. Another try yielded largely the same results, except somehow even worse. It sent a wave of nausea to rock her body and made it feel like the wound on her front was simultaneously bleeding and burning, all for daring to try talking with a friend.

None of that, only more pain.

Feeling herself become the focus of many observers afterwards didn’t help any either. The self-inflicted weakness left Sue deeply unsure of what to do next. Couldn’t really calm anyone down without linking up, couldn’t link up, couldn’t even tune out all the mental noise around her while keeping on walking. It was a lot, it was so much, her breathing sped up at the thought-

And then, buzzing right before her, and something warm and smooth on her left shoulder.

Prying her eyes open revealed Basil to be hovering in the air in front of her, his concern very palpable from up close. Compound eyes made it impossible to make out what he was looking at exactly, but he’d clearly noticed the bandages around her fin at some point, pointing towards it with one stinger before buzzing out a question. She was in no shape to answer, but Ginger was. His flat response only left Basil more concerned.

Concerned, and determined.

And this time, also more mindful. He’d stopped himself right before he tried dragging Sue anywhere again. He wasn’t an expert at nonverbal communication with anyone outside of his kin, but he could try, just to make sure his friend was alright.

Pointing a disarmed stinger at her head, then making a smooth line between it and his head, then pointing at the injury while shaking his head.

Right, I can’t do this. Not in this state. Guess I'll just have to make do like this for a while...

A slow, begrudging nod towards the bee, his acknowledgment immediate and confirmed by the lizard. The realization brought on a bit of sorrow, though not for any selfish reasons, as evidenced by the unusually-slow-by-Basil’s-standards hug that followed. It may have been a bit uncomfortable because of bringing even more emotions closer to her injured body part, but it was very appreciated all the same. Sue’s free arm held the bee tight in return.

“Thank you, Basil...”

No understanding, but a cheerful nod.

By the time he was done, a quick glance around made it clear that some of the excess attention had crept away from the scene. They were no doubt disappointed at the nefarious and wicked night kin... playing with a baby insect in his arms.

His jokes might not have been the most well timed in recorded history, but he was undefeated at peek-a-boo.

As Sue took that adorable scene in, she felt something warm and smooth bump into her left hand, a quick glance revealing it to be one of Basil’s stingers. If him doing it again a few more times afterwards was any sign, it seemed to be an intentional gesture, though what it implied wasn’t... comfortable to imagine.

I like you a lot Basil, but I’m not sure that grabbing stingers barehanded is a good idea...

...then again, he probably knows that better. Maybe it’s high time to just trust him instead of assusming I know more about his body than he does.


While Sue reeled from the self-critical part of her mind hitting her with a stealth crit, her free hand reached to take the bee up on his offer. His stinger was as firm as its appearance made it imply. The chitin threaded the needle between being too rough to be comfortable and too smooth to hold on to safely.

Alright, yeah, walking with a support was easier, and probably necessary with how much her attempts at telepathy had drained her...

And it made Basil very happy, which was the most important thing.

Once her grasp was confident, the bee hovered over to ask the lizard something while staying close enough to keep providing constant support. Ginger’s answer was a verbal equivalent of a shrug paired with the physical equivalent of a shrug- namely, a shrug. Neither of the two knew how to proceed from there for a while, the deadlock broken through with a snap of the lizard’s fingers and a short, trilled response.

Seems they had somewhere to go now.

Their new pace was even slower than before, but neither Ginger nor Basil cared much, the former still playing with the caterpillar in his arms. The lil’ insect’s occasional drawn out squeaks had his dad break into buzzed laughter each time, followed by his typical flood of excited words.

Things were good, the baby was happy. Nobody was freaking out.

While the two men chatted amongst themselves about something Sue couldn’t quite figure out, she glanced over at the nearby construction site and the being closest to her. The bulk of the hut was done by now, only the roof missing anymore. And, if the small mound of off-red tiles beside the building was any indication, the roof was exactly what was being worked on in the moment.

It seemed to be just Granite that was working on it, though. A glance further into the clearing determined the rest of the builders’ team to have already started work on the next hut. They were all anywhere from elbow to entire-body deep in the foundation work, depending on their height.

They really built these fast, huh.

Placing roof tiles unsurprisingly didn’t turn out to be any more exciting to watch than expected, even if it was being performed by a four-armed gray non-human made of what looked like pure muscle. Right as Sue was about to look away and let her impromptu gaggle resume their walk while turning her thoughts towards wondering just how many tons could Granite deadlift, something odd caught her attention.

There was a small pile of five tiles within the reach of the four-arms’... lower pair of arms, reduced to two right after as he took a few off the top. As she turned her head to look away, she spotted... something small, pitch black, and very misshapen at the very bottom of Sue’s vision, sending her inner ear into haywire-

And then, the next thing she knew, she was blinking her daze away, Basil buzzing at her in concern. The... whatever she saw was nowhere to be seen.

I'll probably need another checkup soon-

Granite’s low voice distracted her from that train of thought, a glance over showing the couple of remaining tiles to be gone all of a sudden. All of two tiles going missing didn’t justify more than a bit of annoyance, and that’s where Granite’s emotions were indeed at as he looked over his shoulder, about to speak up at their little group-

And froze, together with Ginger.

The abrupt shift made Sue gulp nervously, the gray giant’s mind still full of shock. But, if Ginger’s equally surprised reaction was anything to go by, it wouldn’t stay so for good. And if something bad were to happen, she’d be powerless to stop them-

...

She had no idea Granite could be this loud, but it was only fitting.

In an instant, the big ‘un was off the ladder and dashing over to Ginger, surprise giving way to a bright and warm elation, manifesting in a gregarious shout. Its suddenness took Sue and Basil aback, but hardly Ginger himself, his usually flat expression shifting to the biggest, toothiest smile Sue had seen him give yet as he ran over towards Granite.

As suddenly as the dash had started, it ended; the technicolor lizard’s happiness giving way to shock and pause. A couple of warbled words and a raised hand conveyed the need to stop to the four-armed builder as well. Without waiting another moment, Ginger ran back up to Basil and handed his son back to him; the bee’s question about what was happening cut off by the night kin resuming whatever had almost happened before-

Namely, a massive, tight hug coming from Granite.

Ginger’s legs left kicking the air as he was squeezed for all he was worth. The instant of concern for the lizard’s well being that followed was abated once the embrace had loosened up enough to let him breathe again, and returned to whatever extent the night kin’s comparatively shorter reach was capable of.

Suppose the sight of Ginger getting squeezed like a dog toy, including his eyes going comically wide for a moment, more than made up for his mistimed joke earlier.

The celebrations wouldn’t end there, though, nowhere near. Granite followed his hug by shouting toward the rest of the construction crew, the call’s effect immediate. One by one, the other builders, except for Kantaro, scrambled over from the other site. The brown spiky pangolin, the bipedal rhino, the red metal... robot insect, the entire gang’s here.

The entire gang was excited to see Ginger again.

Maybe there is hope after all.

Maybe things will be alright.




If you're confused about the species of the characters and want them spoiled, I've set up a page listing the species of all the featured characters in each chapter!

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Also check out my other main fic, From the Vast!
 
Chapter 20: Heresy


Chapter 20: Heresy



Fortunately for Ginger’s back, the other construction workers expressed their joy at his return in less... abrupt ways. That’s not to say hugs weren’t present. The opposite, if anything. The bipedal rhino might have dwarfed the technicolor lizard to a comical degree, but the large high five the two soon exchanged left the gray one reeling much more than Ginger. At least, if them shaking their hand off in pain afterwards was any sign.

The group’s excited chatter was so loud that even if Sue had known their language, she doubted she’d be able to make out more than a few scattered words.

Granite got his hug, the rhino got their high-five, and the spiky brown pangolin got... a chest bump. Suppose that was the safest course of action with their ridiculous claws and the many spikes covering their back. Or at least, the safest course of action for the other side. Once the two had finished that greeting, the pangolin kept going as Ginger pulled up some of his loose skin. Their constant chitters grew louder and happier as they pulled the lizard into another hug.

Judging by his brief hissed remark and a chuckle, the lizard commented on it all with a joke of sorts. That’s not how it felt like to the builders, however. Whatever he’d said, it left them... sappier, their flare-up of joy dimming and with sorrow now underlining it, even as they tried to keep their minds away from it. That held true for everyone except for the red robot... creature.

Now that they’d caught her attention, she’d realized they’ve been keeping towards the back of the group. And that they haven’t spoken up at all yet. For a moment, Sue grew concerned, thinking about what might’ve caused that colder reception. The idea of the colorful lizard being about to receive a heaping portion of bigotry from a bunch he’d clearly considered friends was harrowing to consider-

And thankfully, not true.

Soon after she’d noticed the metal one’s silence, so did the rest of their group, proceeding to then apparently introduce the two to each other. Curt handshake paled in comparison with all the other displays of affection earlier, but it palpably put the robot at ease. Only for something said shortly after to make them go wide eyed and stare down at Ginger, their following question delivered in what sounded like highly compressed-sounding buzzes.

Someone needs their bitrate upped.

The moment of tension that followed didn’t last long as the group kept talking amongst each other, the robot soon easing out around the night kin. As they cooled off, Sue glanced off to the side to check on how Basil was doing- only to find the spot beside her empty. The bee turned out to be in the middle of chatting with Birch in the crowd some distance away, the nameless caterpillar now in their other half’s arms.

Red robot spoke up another question, catching Sue’s attention again. Their speech was distinctive for all the ear-grating reasons, but it’s not like it was a deliberate thing. Ginger perked up at whatever was just said, his answer slow and uncertain, as if he hadn’t quite understood the question. Undeterred, the metal bug tried again, first pointing at Ginger’s orange-red crest, then at... himself, and lastly at the pile of roof tiles nearby.

Something about color, maybe? The tiles’ shade was a coincidental match for the row of scales on top of Ginger’s head, after all.

Regardless if that was the topic or not, Ginger’s response made it clear that it didn’t matter. His answer was brief and capped off with as large of a shrug as his lanky body could provide. Not a particularly in-depth one, but the red metal one seemed to be content with it, acknowledging it with a nod.

That’s one potentially awkward discussion resolved.

The chat continued to relax following the metal one’s question as excitement eased out into contentment. Sue’s horn definitely appreciated that change in mood, its burning pain subsiding as the mood calmed down.

Everyone stay calm or I’m gonna get wildly uncomfortable.

The chatter continued once Basil made his way back, joining the group now that he’d emptied his arms. With the only gestures being occasionally pointing at a nearby building, it was rather hard to follow the chat, but it didn’t matter.

It wasn’t her chat to follow and partake in, after all.

Meanwhile, Sue took the opportunity to gather her bearings. She rolled her shoulders and shifted her weight from side to side, trying to manage her exhaustion. The pit stop was much appreciated, even if a seat would’ve been preferred. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to stand beside the group looking dumb for much longer, though.

Well, maybe not ‘looking dumb’, but ‘looking even dumber’.

Ginger’s raised hiss tackled Sue out of that worrisome train of thought, the once-human following the lizard’s eyeline into the crowd to find Willow on its other end. The sight brought the builders’ no less joy than it did her. Everyone who could speak was chiming in to pass greetings over to the medic.

Their response wasn’t very reassuring.

Past proximity let Sue just barely pick their aura out of the passersby. They were understandably on edge, either in the middle of or about to grab supplies to treat Sundance’s injury. That much was perfectly understandable, and of course, nobody was about to pull them into a spirited discussion with their duties on the line. It was what followed that unnerved Sue in particular, a sudden mid-step shift in mood once they’d looked toward the builders.

Surprise. Reassurance.

Shock. Fear. Alarm.

The emotional change was so abrupt it almost made them trip there and then, and again after they had looked away and upped their pace, not even acknowledging the group with their own wave. Sue didn’t want to assume anything. There were many reasons for a response like that, but it just left her feeling a bit... worried.

Thankfully, she wouldn’t be left to stew in those unpleasant emotions for too long, Willow’s uncertain reaction evidently prompting Ginger to get a move on. He caught Sue’s attention with a pat on her free arm and pointed further into Moonview’s streets. Basil wasted no time in resuming his helpful spot from earlier, flying beside her.

As the crippled Forest Guardian and the helpful bee prepared to move, the technicolor lizard did one last round around the builders’ team. Predictably, him having to head off only sparked further questions, most of them of the unnerved sort.

Figures when it’s the first time they’d seen their friend in years, and now he has to get going after just a few minutes...

He couldn’t answer all the questions, but he could give a broader statement or two. The first one left the group rather somber, and the second perked them up again, especially as the lizard accompanied it by pointing toward the Newmoon path.

Sue could almost hear trip plans start clicking together in the builders’ heads.

With the last couple goodbyes and Sue grabbing Basil’s stinger for support, the trio of various mobility headed off from the construction site. The team they’d left behind took a long while to resume their usual work following... that. Not that Sue could blame them. To various extents, they all felt like they’d seen a ghost. An actual ghost, not… Hazel ghost.

Not literally dead, but in a social sense... yeah, pretty much dead.

Ginger continued to catch passersby’s attention as the group pushed through the streets and narrow paths, but less and less of it each time. Suppose everyone who cared enough to see a night kin in Moonview had already done so, leaving folks that either weren’t aware of the significance of Ginger’s presence, or just didn’t care.

There wasn’t much point in trying to distinguish the two. Either option was fine, as far as Sue was concerned.

Sometimes it was easy to tell, though.

A few more minutes of mostly silent marching later, they had finally ended up at their intended destination. Poppy’s stall. Seems she’s been at it for long enough for Ginger to be well aware of the sheer quality and quantity of the goods she could fix up on a whim, which surprised Sue not at all.

Hopefully Poppy falls in either the ‘doesn’t know’ or ‘doesn’t care’ group. My stomach’s starting to complain.

The truth wouldn’t be revealed for a while longer, however, with Hazel ghosting the counter this time. Poppy, meanwhile, was little more than a blur in the back of the kitchen, seemingly in the middle of putting together no less than three meals simultaneously. The sunset’s faint light didn’t make it easy to tell just what exactly she was fixing.

Especially with the ghost’s grunted greeting, the sound interrupting Sue’s focus.

Sue felt mischief briefly spike in Hazel’s mind as the ghost eyed her out, but absolutely nothing when she’d glanced over at Ginger. She was endlessly grateful once the lizard picked up the hassle of ordering, muttering something to himself as he examined the menu above him before passing a short order on. With the hissed description passed on, Ginger focused on the fairy cook, eyes narrowing almost as if he was leering at her.

The once-human couldn’t tell if that’s what it was, but she certainly hoped not.

Eventually, the not-leer died down, Ginger’s body language slumping afterwards. His usual grimace was hard to read, but the expression that followed felt... sad, in a way. Sue wasn’t even sure whether he was actually feeling down or if it’s that just her reading too much into it, but she figured that some reassurance wouldn’t hurt.

She carefully let go of Basil’s stinger while looking around for an appropriate part of Ginger’s body to use for some patted affirmation. The loose green skin covered most of his back and shoulders, discounting them as options, which left... his thin arms, maybe. Not too much surface area, especially with Sue’s current hands being substantially larger than they used to be, but hopefully, the support would be understood regardless.

pat pat

Nope, didn’t work.


Fortunately, Ginger hadn’t interpreted the gesture negatively, instead just left... confused, probably, judging by his expression. If not that, maybe some other gesture? Just something, anything to convey reassurance?

A thumbs up?

Her hand was still capable of that gesture, even if it looked really awkward with two fewer fingers to offset the sticking thumb. No initial reaction either, leaving the Forest Guardian worried about possibly seriously screwing things up by now, or even accidentally offending him-

...or neither.

The gesture came off silly with how small his paws were. Goofy as it looked, it was still unmistakably an attempt at returning her gesture. A very confused attempt, Ginger’s face looking less like it was trying to reassure and more like it was trying to crack a dumb puzzle, but an attempt all the same.

Local multicolor lizards discovered to have mirror neurons, more at elev-

eeeeEEEEE!


The squeak was sudden and deafening, the entire trio in front of the stall jumping in response. Before they could even figure out what had just happened, the cook was already on the move, tossing the three bowls in her arms in the air as she ran out of the pantry. Sue didn’t even have the time to process said bowls landing on the nearby counters with perfect grace, not a single piece of their contents spilling out, the pink blur’s arrival cutting off her rattled brain.

And once Poppy got there, there were no survivors.

Her squeeze was somehow as strong as Granite’s from earlier, the sound that left Ginger at the hug was almost like a dog toy. And the fairy wouldn’t even stop there, still holding Ginger as she took off into a pirouette. She maintained balance through magic unknown, barely avoiding smacking either of the other two with the flailing lizard.

If not for the bright joy going through the fairy’s mind, Sue would’ve almost thought she was about to pile drive or toss him.

A few spins later, she let go of him, Ginger’s eyes spinning as he desperately tried to maintain balance to the backdrop of Poppy’s twinkly laughter. Or at least, initially twinkly, the fairy’s laugh growing louder and more bellowing once she’d spotted everyone’s confused expressions.

That’s right Hazel, for once it’s someone else laughing at your expense.

Once Ginger was no longer at risk of spinning cartoon stars spontaneously appearing above his head, he could respond to the sudden greeting with his own. Regardless of what was said, it clarified exactly nothing for Hazel. The prankster joined in the group after phasing through the counter, massive eyes and cartoonish smile conveying her confusion in perfect clarity.

And then, her fluster once Poppy had snuck in a smooch on her cheek.

The assorted onlookers had recovered from Poppy’s outburst enough by then to react to the fairy’s follow-up. The chorus of Basil’s buzzes, Ginger’s hisses and Sue’s... laughter conveyed their amusement at the ghost’s embarrassment, bringing forth shame to the shameless.

Good.

Poppy wouldn’t even wait for her wife to finish recovering before introducing their impromptu guest. Her pink arm wrapped around Ginger’s shoulders as the other pointed at him with pride and fondness, in gestures and thoughts alike.

Guess these two go way back.

As cranky as Hazel might’ve been after being put on the spot for once, her wife’s burning enthusiasm helped immensely in melting through any unpleasant emotions, interest slowly creeping in to replace them. Not straightforward interest, of course. That wouldn’t fit her image at all. Instead, it was the kind that feigned disinterest, maybe even mockery, choosing questions carefully to piece things together without appearing too curious.

...

Her injury might’ve made her horn sting like mad when Sue focused in on what the surrounding people were feeling, but goodness, it could manage some impressive feats. Especially now that she’d had a bit of practice. And she didn’t even need to link up with others, she just... felt it all. Multiple tuggings overlapping, interest and insecurity combining into secondary and tertiary emotions. Three basic colors mixing to create a painting, a handful of tones coming together to form a symphony.

It all just made sense to her.

Sue was getting used to this, for better or worse-

The abrupt shift in mood at one of the fairy’s lines took Sue out of her pondering.

A glance at the rest of the group revealed Basil’s and Hazel’s shock, the latter much more subdued, Poppy’s exasperation, and Ginger’s... nothing she could sense. Poppy’s groan might not have clarified much on its own, but once she’d explained something to the massive bee, the atmosphere began to loosen up.

Seems a couple someones only now figured out just what this half-rainbow creature is, pfft.

As exaggerated as Basil’s startle was, it didn’t take long for it to die down. It first turned into pensiveness, and then determination, as the bee hovered towards the lizard, buzzing something directly at him. Ginger’s responses sure didn’t sound spirited either way, his expression offering nothing to go off.

Guess as shocked as Basil was, Ginger didn’t care much?

The exchange of bows that followed was probably some sort of formal greeting-

tap tap

Huh?


The taps on Sue’s free arm made her glance towards where they’d come from. Somewhat predictably, she saw nothing, leaving Sue blinking a couple times and confusion before looking back-

Just to see Hazel’s grimace from up close, shaded as if only lit up from below, and with no sound to accompany it.

Aside from Sue’s own subsequent shriek of fear, at least.

She tried to dash back out of reflex, her flight response acting out despite her dysfunctional leg. In moments, she was falling, only able to hear her own racing heart, too paralyzed to move-

Just in time for Basil to circle around her and stop her fall.

A loud grunt left him as the flat sides of his stingers supporting her back, the bee managing despite his smaller size. Hazel’s laughter filled Sue’s ears as she worked through all the Astonishment in her system. Her body gradually unclenched to the tune of a fresh new argument between the spook and the insect.

Poppy might’ve been amused and Hazel might’ve been oh so proud of herself, but Basil was very, very annoyed. His buzzes and clicks kept rising in volume as the prankster brushed his words aside, again and again. Their discussion kept growing in volume, Basil’s disarmed stingers swinging from side to side in increasingly animated ways.

The cook just found it all funny.

Sue, meanwhile, was of half a mind to get back at Hazel, briefly considering repeating her accidental attack on Basil but on the ghost instead, and very deliberately this time. A terrible, messed-up idea, and she knew it well. It was something that would cast a serious shade on her as a person, but she was much too drained by today to keep her emotions in check, every little bit of emotional exhaustion burning up into anger-

Thankfully for everyone around, Ginger knew just what to do.

Before either side of the argument could react, the lizard grabbed the backs of both their heads and bonked them together, single-handedly redirecting their combined ire onto him. Ire, and attention, Ginger using the latter by speaking up to both of them.

If what she’d seen of Newmoon was representative, he had some experience with dealing with superpowered creatures getting angry at each other from time to time. Whatever he said, it seemed to work. Basil and Hazel alike kept deflating for a while, emotions cooling by the moment.

At least, until he put the ghost on the spot again. Tried to defend herself as she might, Ginger’s barrage cut through her every excuse, much like Willow’s from a few days ago.

Roast her ghost ass.

Eventually, Hazel finally relented, not feeling any well about it all. Thankfully for her and Sue alike, she wouldn’t be forced to apologize to her again. Instead, she grumbled to herself a bit before... collapsing underground in a very literal way, phasing downwards until she was entirely out of view.

Must be nice, being able to throw a hissy fit and just disappear literally anywhere like that.

The mood of the rest of the group was... uneasy to put it lightly, though Sue was too wound up to pay much attention. Poppy had gone from elated, to amused, to now worried, Ginger’s reassurances not helping much. Basil clearly didn’t enjoy how Ginger had broken up his earlier spat either, one stinger reaching up and rubbing the area of the unintentional headbutt as he floated over to Sue.

She had no idea what exact words he’d just vocalized, but a pretty solid hunch of what he meant by them.

“I-I’m okay Basil, don’t worry. What’s up with her, I-I swear to Duck...”

Her still sticking to that name probably constituted a grave heresy of some sort. However, with her last interaction with said deity being having her brain melted over something that didn’t end up mattering at all, she didn’t care.

Not that Night Father had been all that useful either-

w-woof, woof?

Oh no.


The barks were well familiar by now, their sounds providing immense whiplash to Sue’s psyche. Spark’s physical presence was comforting as the fox got to nuzzling her leg, but the once-human knew well that this was going to be a very transient relief. The lil’ firefox wasn’t despairing, but she was palpably confused.

She must’ve not known yet, but was already suspecting something.

“H-hey Spark. I’m- I’m sorry...”

Sue’s somber-sounding response sure didn’t reassure the fox either, her woofs growing a bit more insistent afterwards. The occasional questions Sue could make out were accompanied by hints of distress. She had no way of responding to these and Spark knew that, the tension of being put on a distressing spot like that threatening to sink the once-human to a new emotional low-

And once more, Ginger thankfully intervened.

His voice was much lower than before, his body language slumped and expression the most distraught Sue had seen him be yet. With a couple of growls, he caught Spark’s attention, and with a couple more, everyone else’s too. Their combined shock made Sue feel unwell.

Especially as it changed into something much worse.

Spark’s barks turned quiet and squeaky as panic gripped her tiny body, the small fox immediately running up to the night kin lizard and barking non stop. His hisses helped little, a look around not seeing either any of the medics or the wounded vixen.

There was one obvious spot for her to have ended up at, though, and both Sue and Spark realized it at around the same time.

The vixen wasted no time before taking off further into Moonview. Ginger’s startled growl in her direction was cut off by Sue passing by moments later, the Forest Guardian following in Spark’s footsteps at whichever pace she was capable of. Her body was sore, her horn smarted like a motherfucker, the negative emotions around her amplified the pain, but the adrenaline cruising through her system offset it all.

Adrenaline and the desire to comfort a terrified child.

Sue could almost navigate these few streets from memory. Turn to the left, then another, a few buildings forward, then to the right. Straight on for a decent stretch, left turn again, and there it was.

Willow’s clinic.

Spark’s distraught howl reached the other two before they’d even turned the last corner, the sound freezing the blood in their veins. Sue pushed on, sheer focus dulling everything but the fox’s sadness out. She’d only barely squeezed through the clinic’s door frame as she caught up with the fiery cub, the sight inside equal parts sad and reassuring.

Sundance hadn’t gotten any worse in the meantime, breathing deeply in her coma. The former couldn’t be said for Spark, though. Twin streams of tears ran down her cheeks as she scrambled up onto the bed, nestling in next to her wounded mom. She kept constantly barking at her, with pain, fright, and worry mixing in her every sound. More pleading than questions.

Even despite Solstice’s previous reassurances that the older fox would be alright, the sheer misery radiating from Spark made Sue doubt it. It could’ve easily just been infectious emotions, virulent despair, but that awareness didn’t make them any less effective. Especially when combined with Sue’s utter exhaustion.

Please make it, Sundance, please...

Steps approaching from behind cut her idle prayer off. That particular aura was familiar enough by now for Sue to not have to even look. She cleared the path for Willow with a side step, only now realizing that Ginger had followed her in at some point. The medic greeted her on autopilot as the entirety of their unnerved focus redirected towards the situation on the bed. Their words wavered, straining to sound as comforting as Willow was capable of.

Thankfully, even pretend calm was enough to reach Spark. The medic’s reassurance combined with their gentle pets, gradually working their way through the fox’s panic. At one point, they went quiet and guided the lil’ fox right towards her mom’s front, to the exact spot that would make listening to her heartbeat and breaths the easiest. Beat by beat, the little one slowly eased out, coming to grips with what had just happened, panic dulling into sorrow.

In any other circumstances, Willow choosing to move the entire bed instead of asking Spark to hop off so that they could reach Sundance’s back would’ve been hilarious to Sue, but... not now.

Not like this.

The actual physical injury was barely noticeable from just a couple of meters away, looking less like something that had almost killed her and more like the result of a particularly annoying knife mishap. To think she’d almost died at that moment, to think Solstice had almost died, that she would’ve certainly died if she was standing only half a step forward…

Sue felt anger grip her again. At Juniper, at this entire nightmare that she was risking life and limb to help untangle, this mess of old wounds, grudges and xenophobia, one with what felt like no answers, especially right now.

One she had to fix on her own.

Sue had no idea which one was the bigger idiot here. Her, or the asshole deity that thought she could even undo this much past trauma.

Sniffling coming from the direction of the bed mellowed the once-human’s raging emotions, her desire to comfort Spark brighter than ever. Her muscles complained as she forced herself to move. She kept her grunting in, lifting her crutch off the ground for the umpteenth time, pushing toward the vixen one painful step at a time.

Sue had no words, that much was neither unexpected nor new. But what she had was touch, comfort, and Spark needed as much of those as she could provide.

Low purrs, slowing breath. Despite everything, she was helping.

Even if Spark herself was too busy to acknowledge her gestures, Willow did, offering her a tired smile and a weak nod as they reapplied the bandages. It was at that point, though, that they noticed Ginger again. Their reaction was the same, a discouraging, cold startle.

Sue deeply hoped it wasn’t what she feared it was.

Ginger left the clinic soon after, taking away the source of that unpleasant sensation, but not ending it altogether. Discomfort kept churning inside of Willow’s head. If Sue wasn’t both battered, mentally drained, and physically exhausted, she might’ve even tried to link up and investigate just what had happened.

Instead, she just gave Spark one last pat and followed Ginger out.

He was waiting for her just around the corner, leaning against the nearby building. His expression was unpleasant and pensive to the best of Sue’s ability to tell, but she didn’t have enough time to investigate into it before he’d noticed her arrival. Ginger conveyed a new direction for them to walk towards with a tilt of his head as he straightened out.

Thankfully, at least he had enough manners to slow down to her ever-slowing pace.

The looming sunset bathed Moonview in a fierce orange light as they headed eastward, shadows growing even longer by the moment. Sue had no idea where they were going or why, too exhausted to do much thinking anymore. Everything she’d seen so far today made her hope beyond hope that this was it, that nothing else terrible would happen.

Before she knew it, there was a warm wetness on her cheeks. A couple of stray tears welled on her chin and eventually splashed against her horn, the resulting cold shocks forcing her to stop.

It took Ginger a hot minute to notice; the lizard clearly lost in his own thoughts. Once he did, he walked over to her, checking up on her to whatever extent he was capable of. Which was almost nothing, but even him pausing and waiting for her to get better was very appreciated, more than he’d ever know.

Just have to focus and make it through the rest of today. Just have to make it through. Just have to make it-

“Ginger?”

Solstice’s voice was the single most comforting sensation Sue could’ve asked for in the moment. She shambled a couple of steps toward the older Forest Guardian out of reflex at hearing it. A quick check with her sight and sixth sense made it clear that the Mayor wasn’t doing much better than her. Unkempt hair, glistening eyes, shaking posture. Even the blue tattoos seemed more washed out than usual, though that might’ve just been the lighting.

“Eyyyup. Figured I might use the opportunity to look around, y’know. Doubt I’ll ever get one again. Went to meet some old friends. See what everyone’s been up to, how Moonview has grown, and such. Don’t worry, I’ll be heading out soon. Just want to check on one more thing.”

The Mayor responded with a shaking nod. She was clearly unsure about the whole idea, but by now it was much too late to say no.

What happened, happened, and there’s nothing anyone can do.

“Alright. I suppose that’s only fair for your help. Are you feeling okay, Sue?”

No, no I'm not, and we both know that.

“I-I’ll manage. H-how are you holding up?”

They both also knew that this was a question better left unanswered.

“Sundance has gotten medical attention, at least. Has anyone told Spark-“

“Yep, she ran into us and I had to explain what Juniper did. She’s cuddled up to Sundance now, over at the clinic.”

Even trying to imagine all the pain the entire situation must’ve caused the little fox sent shivers down Solstice’s back. The older Forest Guardian was relieved deep down that it wasn’t her who had to pass the dire news on.

“Alright. Thank you for that, Ginger.”

“Ain’t no problem.”

Sue could only stare as Solstice chewed through it all, so many thoughts swirling inside her head that it was difficult to make out anything more precise than general distress.

Might as well just get this done with.

“Lead the way, Ginger.”

“Sure thing.”

The lizard’s voice was flat and tense, a marked contrast compared to when Sue’d first interacted with him in Newmoon. Suppose that with everything that had happened, there was only so much stress one could cover up, no matter how hard they tried.

Sue was too weak to try anymore, Solstice too weak to stop trying.

The two Forest Guardians slowly followed the technicolor lizard through the streets, the density of passersby shrinking as the sun set. For better or worse, their destination wasn’t too far. The Mayor was taken aback as she realized where Newmoon’s leader was heading, a cold emotion filling her mind at the realization.

Not fear.

Shame.

Sunset lit up Duck’s graven depiction. Shadows of nearby buildings gradually crept their way along the bases of the three walls of the monument surrounding the elevated altar. Despite everything, despite Sue’s internal mockery towards the deity in question, seeing Her be depicted like this, having Her likeness come to life with the brilliant orange light... it was stunning.

Ginger’s focus wasn’t on the central wall bearing Duck's likeness, though.

Precisely the opposite.

“Wait, where’d- no. No, you didn’t...”

The lizard’s words were the most shocked Sue had heard him speak yet, genuinely taken aback in the way she didn’t think he was capable of. It only made them sting more, for Solstice and, by proxy, Sue alike. Despite the shrine no longer depicting his deity, Ginger still took his time approaching, putting more care into that than into seemingly anything else, ever.

Sue didn’t know what he would do and mostly didn’t want to know. Even as utterly non-hostile as the lizard had been so far, her heartbeat still sped up, the once-human wanting to be anywhere but here.

Thankfully, Fate offered her a fleeting distraction.

whiiiiistle!

The familiar sound perked Sue’s spirit up more than she’d thought something so simple was capable of. A look away from the unfolding scene at the monument revealed Lilly to be pushing a cart of fruit off in the distance with one arm, the other waving over at her. Even if she couldn’t come over and comfort her directly, just having her around helped more than the planty dancer could’ve known, her sight alone bringing back some of the accompanying relief in Sue’s memories.

A small, shaky smile crept onto Sue’s face as she began waving back with her free hand, the farmhand returning the gesture even more intensely-

For a brief moment, at least.

Sue could only barely make the rough growl out from the din of the village, but its effect was clear to see. Lilly flinched as if struck, freeze giving way to hurriedly pushing the cart along. Root came into view next to where she’d been standing soon after, the purple spots around his neck aglow. The Forest Guardian had no idea what the hell was his problem, but was much too distraught and intimidated to act on that annoyance.

Especially after he turned towards her, red eyes glowing dimly in the distance as they stared straight at her.

Straight through her.

The once-human reeled back at that sight, hurriedly looking away, just in time to see what Ginger had been up to. He was inspecting one of the side walls of the monument, the one that Sue could by now figure out to be implying protection from the dark.

Protection from the night kin.

It wasn’t its front face that the lizard was focused on, though. One paw was reaching behind the stone slab, brushing along the monument’s back face. He need not have spoken for his expression to tell everything, the wide-eyed surprise giving way to a quiet confirmation.

Guess I was right. Night Father's monument didn't just disappear into thin air.



Why did I have to be right.

It was hard to even look toward Solstice anymore, the shame at everything she’d done and facilitated that led to this unsightly discovery burning a hole in her mind. A goring, gangrenous mental wound, off-putting to even be near.

Before it could grow any further, the last thing its owner wanted to see cut it off.

As Ginger inspected the side wall's back side, its shaky foundation started to give at the modicum of force being applied to it. The massive slab leaned forward, making both Forest Guardians gasp-

“Woah woah woah, easy there- ugh!”

The lizard didn’t look like he’d have even the fraction of the strength needed to just grasp the side of the stone slab and keep it from collapsing the manual way, but that’s precisely what he then did. Carefully, he straightened the side wall back up before working it further into the ground and hopefully preventing this from happening again in the future.

“There ya go, there ya go. Sorry for all that, my bad.”

Even if the slight wavering in Ginger’s voice would have only corresponded to being slightly unnerved for anyone else, by the lizard’s standards it was outright freaking out. Sue couldn’t blame him one bit. It was only afterwards, once her heart slowed down, that she even realized how fast it and the Mayor’s hearts were racing to begin with.

Crisis averted, thank Duck.

The sheer tension made it hard to even exhale a sigh of relief. It wasn’t the only obstacle to trying to relax though, with the second, arguably even larger one, announcing his presence with a loud, harsh growl.

Root’s entire collar was ablaze now, the eerie purple flames seemingly not hurting the fiery badger at all. Even if the inferno was harmless, that absolutely couldn’t be said for his expression. He bared his teeth as fury and shock mixed on his snout, eyes going wide only to narrow right on the intruder night kin, the words that followed harsh and left untranslated.

Probably for the best-

A motion in the corner of her eye made Sue glance over and freeze, her breath stuck in her throat.

As Ginger stared at the shouting priest, the slab he'd just secured began to lean away from him, too slowly for anyone to notice. There was nothing the once-human could do but stare, stare as the side wall collapsed despite Ginger's best efforts to stabilize it.

Stare at the heresy's destruction.

BANG!

The deafening sound rocked the entire clearing and rooted everyone present, their hearts all skipping a beat as they faced the direction where it came from.

And saw the errant slab shattered on the grassy dirt, having fallen on its own, away from the altar.

Both Root and Solstice were too shocked to as much as peep, but that didn’t extend to Ginger. The lizard immediately stepped forward to assess the damage-

“Oh... fuck. Three, four... five larger pieces, several small ones. Shit. Mortar would prolly work, but would need to be careful. I need to get to Kantaro. She’ll know what to do, she made it-“

“H-he.”

Sue’s unexpected interjection derailed Ginger’s train of thought for a moment as he blinked a couple of times.

“He. Right. Need to fetch him then, he’ll know- KANTARO!”

Ginger’s sudden shout combined with a wide-eyed look at the gathering crowd left most everyone staring at the blue beetle that was pushing his way to the front. He stared slack-jawed at the scene, yellow eyes jumping back and forth between Ginger and the wrecked side wall of the monument, the former catching up with him quickly.

“Kantaro, need help with... that. Figure you either built it or helped, have any ideas on how to piece it together? Counted five larger pieces and a bunch of tiny ones. Think mortar will be enough?”

“Ginger...”

The beetle could only force out a single word as he stepped forward a few steps, using whatever remaining sunlight to get a better view of the freshly destroyed side wall.

It wasn’t even needed, in truth. He’s had an exact plan for what to do in this situation since the very moment he’d applied the final strike of the chisel on these two cursed slabs.

“No. That heresy wasn’t worth the stone it was carved on. Good riddance.”

Kantaro’s voice was grumbly and low, much lower than Ginger remembered it being. It only suited him if anything, though his exact words drew the attention of more than just the lizard.

The fiery badger was only now recovering from the sheer shock of watching his sacred shrine be defiled like that, stunned silence giving way to fury. In an instant, the collar of fire around his neck went from nonexistent to overwhelming, each individual flame almost the size of his head. The burning heat drove most onlookers away, Sue, Solstice, and Ginger included.

But not Kantaro.

The beetle stared his boss in the eyes even as he drew closer to overheating, body beginning to shake. Only upon seeing that did Root’s fiery collar wane, shrinking even if the ferocious, downright feral grimace remained. Ginger immediately ran up to his friend to check on him afterwards, the beetle’s reassuring grunt that accompanied him patting the lizard on the back a couple times too quiet to make out.

Begone.”

Root’s command was brief and striking; Sue left wanting to run for the hills even with it having not been aimed at her. Ginger fared better, thankfully. He glared at the priest as he straightened himself out, their eyes locking in tension once more.

“Don’t have to tell me again.”

Ginger spat at the ground in front of Root, the ordinarily insulting gesture made even more potent by the hissing and smoke that sprouted from the struck spot, as if the lizard had spat acid. And then, without any further ado, Ginger turned towards the Newmoon pathway,

And left.

And with him, any remaining sunlight, the darkness shrouding the scene quickly thickening with the light poles still unlit.

The gentle touch on Sue’s arm forcibly snapped her out of her dissociation with a light jump. Solstice’s dimly glowing eyes were the only clear sight around as the rest of Moonview left the scene.

“^Head over to my tent, Sue.^”

Solstice’s intent was obvious with the clinic’s bed occupied. The once-human acknowledged the request with a shaky nod and turned toward where she remembered the Mayor’s tent being. For a moment, she waited for the other Forest Guardian to get going beside her. She was about to look over at Solstice before hearing Root’s harsh growls from much close up, the sound urging her on.

Once last glance over her shoulder confirmed Sue’s fears, the sight of Solstice wincing with Root’s every snarled word stabbing the younger Forest Guardian’s heart. A part of her wanted to help, wanted to intervene, to do something, anything-

But there was nothing she could do.

And so, her conscious control came out on top, for once.

Before Sue knew it, she was completely alone in the dark. She could barely make out anything around her with the sunlight gone and the Moon being little more than the narrowest of slivers. A part of her wanted to stop, but the rest hated that idea wholeheartedly, wanting to keep going forever. Until she was as far away from all that, from the altar, from Root, as possible.

The more her mind dwelt on all that, on everything she’d seen, the more it felt like the Night Mother was the evil one of the two. Or, at the very least, attracted evil.

Sue wanted to chuckle grimly at the realization, to laugh at the banal, cruel twist of irony in the healing deity being the manifestation of all evil in this world, at the Moon being the fucking Satan-

But she couldn’t.

Because Solstice was there, too.

The internal conflict brought no relief and no release, the tension only growing whenever she tried to think through it all. There was no laughter to be had, no absurdity of the cosmos to be mocked or cherished, no barrel to live in and lecture at a passing emperor from.

It all fucking hurts.

The sudden change of lighting nearby snapped Sue back to awareness. Crackle’s obscured body flew from lamp post to lamp post, leaving purplish balls of flame behind. Even had he noticed her, Sue wasn’t in the mood to talk much, not even acknowledging his presence.

Solstice’s tent was just up ahead now.

Its inside was much smaller than Sue remembered it being. The artificial light didn’t do nearly as good of a job of penetrating through the thin walls as natural sunlight, leaving the small space almost completely pitch black. Sue needed to stand in place for a minute or two as her eyes got used to the absence of light. Even then, she only barely made out something to sit on nearby.

Soft, with no back support, very elongated.

The only question was whether this used to be Aurora’s bed, or Jasper’s.

The thought provided yet another gut punch to Sue’s psyche. Her body curled up as she sat still in complete darkness, only putting in the very minimum of effort and placing the crutch down on the floor beside her. Once she was done with that, the quiet truly began to set in. A distant, muffled step here, a stray gust of wind there, her own breaths. None of them could even remotely dent the all-encompassing silence of her surroundings, the silence that saps all the other senses too, that leaves one only with their own innermost thoughts.

...

...

...

I fucked up.

The realization was as simple as it was piercing, a subconscious wince leaving the Forest Guardian, as if she’d stabbed herself with a knife.

I should’ve done something. Something to stop Juniper, should’ve suspected it would happen, shouldn’t have tried to tag along with Sundance to begin with-

Each of these hurt more and more. Sue’s teeth gritted as she doubled over, every single thought felt like it was stabbing her insides.

It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.

...

...

...

It’s over, isn’t it?

For once, no pain, merely a release of tension. A blissful shroud of powerlessness, one interwoven with despair.

I’m stuck here.

...

...

...

I don’t deserve that-

Right as Sue’s thoughts were about to descend into another twisted pathway, the flap of the tent was shoved open. It brought a brief flood of light with itself, leaving Sue reeling and shielding her eyes.

“^Apologies, Sue. Do you want me to light a small fire here?^”

The once-human declined Solstice’s question with a shake, slowly prying her eyes open again. She could barely make out the older Forest Guardian carefully lowering sleeping Comet into the small cot immediately beside her bed before she took a seat, her whole mind feeling shellshocked.

Not that Sue was doing any better.

“^Do you want me to grab you anything, Sue? Food, water, light?^”

Once more, Sue shook her head, her body curling up further. She was hungry and thirsty, but the last thing she wanted in the moment was to put the onus on anyone to fix these issues for her, not after everything that had happened today.

Solstice wanted to say something, to cut Sue off there and then, to not let that kind of self loathing keep building.

And if she’d had any words that could help, she might’ve used them.

“^In that case... good night, Sue. May She keep your rest peaceful.^”

Both of them knew there would be no rest to be had tonight.

Sue nodded on autopilot before lying down on what was little more than a bare, thin mattress, profoundly uncomfortable without a pillow. And yet, exactly what she deserved.

Even with Solstice and Comet so close to her, the tent felt no more alive than before, impenetrable silence returning to reclaim its rightful throne in Sue’s mind. There weren’t words that could adequately cover everything. So many things she wanted to say, to apologize for. Almost all of them were inane self loathing, and even her inane self loathing mind was well aware of that.

All but one.

One that she couldn’t discount.

One point where she could’ve intervened.

One chance to stop this day from becoming even more of a disaster.

“I’m sorry for letting Ginger in.”

Sue’s whisper was only barely audible even in the utter silence of the thick tent, the individual sounds little more than rustles of individual leaves in the spring breeze.

“^You did nothing wrong, Sue. Neither did Ginger.^”

The once-human expected that first non-reassurance, but the follow-up gave her a pause. Her stony, distraught expression was interrupted for the first time in ages as she lifted a single eyebrow, the Mayor’s response coming not long after.

“^It’s not the fault of either of you. If we hadn’t defiled the Night Father’s monument to carve out more glory towards the Pale Lady, this wouldn’t have happened. If we hadn’t banished the night kin on supposedly the Pale Lady’s behest, this wouldn’t have happened. If my clan’s teachings of Pale Lady hadn’t spread here, this wouldn’t have happened.^”

A long, uncomfortable silence lingered in the tent as Sue chewed on Solstice’s words, a sniffle coming over from the Mayor’s bed eventually interrupting it.

“^Why must She be a tool of hatred...^”

Sue couldn’t contribute even the slightest bit of food for thought at the older Forest Guardian’s rhetorical question, and they both knew that.

But what she could do, however, was listen.

“^Hatred, and fear, and night kin oppression. Again, a-and again. It’s not what She is, it was never what She was... and yet it turns out this way, again and again. I tried to intervene, to sway Moonview when I could, it felt like it was working, but-^”

A louder, drawn out sniffle, the faintest of whimpers following it.

“^I was too weak. No better than any of them, I... I made this happen. I made Her into a tool of hatred, again. She isn’t that, She has never been that... but there’s nothing I can do.^”

Choking silence, absence of motion. Only her mentor’s thrashing, painful aura let Sue know whether she was even awake anymore.

“^Maybe I am the fool. For thinking it all could ever be any different. For thinking She could ever be a symbol of love, of hope, of healing.^”

It felt like minutes passed by in utter stillness, and then hours, the sheer tension the only thing that was still keeping Sue awake, despite the rest of her body yearning for rest, however feeble. However strained.

And once the tension came undone, once Solstice spoke for the last time tonight, the rest came crashing along with her words, claiming Sue’s consciousness once more.

“^Maybe the Pale Lady I used to pray to every night is gone.^”


Her own breathing was deafening.

Sue’s dreamt up eyes fed her dreamt up mind sensory input, but she couldn’t see. Only blurs of color, haphazard and distorted, taking an eternity to sharpen into a coherent image.

Her hands.

Her legs.

The bench.

The gray sand.

The campfire, consuming the world around her in a blazing inferno.

Her mom’s guitar. Shattered. Bleeding. Disemboweled.

She looked up.

The Sun bled crimson and shone no light.

The overwhelming noise of her breaths continued on as Sue stared into the rueful Sun, watching the blood build up on its bottom end. A large red spot. Grew, then bulged out, and finally, released a single drop, falling across the skies.

And splashed on the silver Moon, right in between its two deities.

Before Sue knew it, she wasn’t breathing anymore; tattered mind forcibly put together as it stared through someone else’s eyes.

A single red speck was visible on the moondust that separated Night Father from Duck, the two facing away from each other. They were both maimed, scarred.

Wrong.

Night Father’s left arm was shattered. The inky blackness was mangled with multiple cuts taken out of it. It hung limply, connected to the rest of His body by a single, dark thread.

Duck looked so much worse.

Countless scars covered Her radiant body, the blue and gold down shining with faint moonlight. Her right and back wings had been stabbed repeatedly, vandalized; the parts that weren’t outright destroyed covered in thick webs of cracks. Only stubs remained of the left wing.

Open gashes ran along the crescent horns that flanked Her head, coming together to resemble a couple of symbols Sue’d seen in her dreams and around Moonview, their meaning unknown, yet derogatory. Her throat was slit. Blood the color of full Moon flowed down Her front, staining the pink of Her paws, dripping off of Her onto the moondust below.

A cosmic distance behind them both shone the Earth, white and blue, enveloped sevenfold by an Emerald Serpent for its protection. Above them all, the ever-living Sun. Its judging light barraged the unreal scene, casting harsh, pitch-black shadows.

Two of them on the lunar surface, near her point of view.

One sprouted from where she seemed to be located. A head with three points, each with a short strip of paper hanging off of it, giving way to a short body, and then twin flaps fluttering slowly in the absence of air.

The other was being cast by something that didn’t exist. By something she wasn’t allowed to perceive. A head with three points, the side ones curved and with something circular hanging from them. Short body, tapering outwards. Disjointed arms.

Duck spoke first, Her voice as regal as ever- and immediately cut off by Night Father.

"Is that all you have to say?"

Tremors went through the lunar surface beneath them at His words, the shadows of the twinned observers not flinching even slightly.

She spoke again, Her voice raised and pleading. And, again, discarded.

"I do not care for your apology. It is worthless to me."

A fissure streaked across the moondust behind them, breaking off into a web of cracks from horizon to horizon.

She kept trying, regal voice tearing up with emotion. Her fear met by His anger.

"You have done nothing to earn my forgiveness. I doubt you ever will."

The horizon shrunk around them as fissures gave way to a thundering earthquake, the entire dreamscape gradually coming undone.

At last, Duck caved and turned around, Her divine body shaking as She craned Her head in His direction, panic dripping from Her voice. Whatever She’d said, it was enough to make Him snap and turn around to face Her, midday blue and sunset pink eyes gazing into one another.

"What do I want you to do, you ask!?"

His voice might’ve been furious, but Sue heard the tiniest seeds of genuine plea in it, focusing all that was left of her mind on them as reality fell apart.

"Change. Can you do that, ████████?"

The final word was not meant to be known by mortal minds. The non-sound flooded Sue’s remaining awareness with the utmost grace and restoration of moonlight, Her grace, Her restoration. Her healing.

Instant by instant, the surrounding space faded into nothingness, the very forms of the deities shattering in front of Sue’s vision.

Just before they did, just before everything was gone, she saw the Pale Lady open her mouth and speak a single word-

And then, all faded into nonexistence, vanishing into squeaky, grating laughter.



If you're confused about the species of the characters and want them spoiled, I've set up a page listing the species of all the featured characters in each chapter!

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Also check out my other main fic, From the Vast!
 
Interlude III: Distance


Interlude III: Distance



For once, her escape had been swift enough.

The Windrider gradually slowed down to her equivalent of casual stroll, relaxing from flying faster than all terrestrial beings ran to only flying faster than most of them could run. Her body was used to so much more than this, velocities which could kill many lesser creatures on their own from sheer inertia.

Alas, her age would only let itself be temporarily overlooked, but never forgotten.

Despite her relatively sluggish flight, she was still making progress towards the next stop on her journey, and it was all that mattered. Or at the very least, all she knew she should’ve been focusing on, on the mere fact of progress instead of fretting about its exact pace.

Easier said than done.

...

Blast it.

The low thrum that left the dragon’s throat went unheard above the calm waters, not a single fellow flier sharing the afternoon sky nearby. She thought she had remembered the direction to take, that her long sharpened sense of place in the world would let her find her way without any aid.

And yet, she wavered, gradually stopping in the middle of the vast ocean.

She wasn’t doomed, nowhere near. Even if she were to become truly lost, her return would merely be delayed until she made it to shore somewhere and then followed along with it. And that was the worst-case scenario.

Latch’s foresight made sure of that.

Once the Windrider had stopped, she opened the thick canvas bag affixed to her red wings, telekinesis ruffling through the assorted junk until she’d pulled out a small, metal item. She may have been living amongst the people of Golden Sky for over a century by now, and yet she felt no less distant from them and their inventions of brass and iron.

If not for her and one of their greatest tinkerers having taken a liking to each other, she would’ve probably long since left them for good.

Even despite the accomplishment she thanked them the most for.

Shaking that thought aside, the dragon thought back to her friend’s instructions on how to use the supposed navigational tool. Two needles spun freely in a circular brass chassis, moving through a dense forest of unfamiliar symbols.

The red, iron one always pointed south, a feat accomplished though means beyond the Windrider’s comprehension. The green, silver one, however, pointed to a beacon at the location Latch had specifically arranged for to be her resting spot on her way back.

It was a provision the dragon was simultaneously deeply grateful for, and equally worried by.

Was her diminishing strength that easy to sense?


The remainder of her journey towards her resting spot for the night was spent in annoyed silence, verbal and mental alike. She ignored her body’s complaints, forcing them silent despite their best efforts.

She hadn’t even crossed into her sixteenth century yet, she couldn’t let herself be overtaken by such annoyances.

And so, she raced on, chill air staining her down with salt as she passed by any onlookers in a red and white blur, much too fast for most to even react to before she was long gone.

Her destination was almost too small to even be called an island.

It wasn’t just small enough for her to run circles around, but even for most terrestrial beings, she imagined. A tower of stone and brass took up a non-insignificant part of it, housing the beacon that had beckoned her over, as well as its singular maintainer. Surrounding it was a grove of trees small enough for one to see the base of the tower from the shore.

Beyond that, only the unending ocean.

The mere existence of this structure so far from land baffled the dragon greatly. She’d listened to Latch’s explanations of sea and air routes, of using these so-called beacons as safe refuges amongst the waves and as jumping-off points to more exploration, but none of it really stuck.

It felt useless to her, and perhaps even cruel to the sole person forced to stay here and maintain the device in solitude. She’d also heard something about these positions being voluntary, though, so maybe it wasn’t as evil as it seemed?

Suppose it only made sense to ask Latch about that once she’d returned.

Following the custom of this wider culture, the dragon knocked on the door with a modest application of telekinesis, her physical paws far too short to reach. The building remained silent as a grave; the shimmer of calm waves washing against the shore was the only sound gracing her ears-

"Greetings."

The sheer startle made her fly near the top of the beacon as her hide erased her from sight before she could even consciously react; lungs slowly taking in air as she descended and examined the island’s occupant.

She almost never encountered creatures truly new to her anymore, not after having circumnavigated the globe so many times. This case was no exception. Though, the only other times she’d seen this particular kin be depicted or described were as harbingers of death, otherworldly beings that killed with a single touch.

Probably wouldn’t have to worry about being touched with her swiftness.

“^I greet thou in peace, specter.^”

Their singular red eye focused on her just as much as it focused on everything else nearby, what amounted to their expression unchanging. She didn’t suspect them of being particularly emotive, either. Their head’s light gray matched the color of their raised collar, giving way to a darker body underneath. The yellow stripes across their body glowed dimly, with only the pale light emitted by the round protrusion on the top of their head being really noticeable.

"Our guest?"

“^That is indeed true, specter, but not by mine will.^”

Their head slowly nodded before they turned their bulky body towards the entrance to the beacon’s tower, continuing shortly after.

"Inside, freshwater. Provisions. Firm ground. If questions, us answer. We ‘Sun of Great Beyond’. You?"

Once more, silence returned to the scene, the dragon’s expression remaining perfectly flat as her golden eyes scanned the area. They didn’t take too long to understand the message. Eventually, the ghost turned around, about to return to their previous spot, before hearing the dragon’s telepathic voice again.

“^Answer me such, Sun of Great Beyond. Dost thee not grow somber by loneliness?^”

Their silence was short-lived, answer echoing through the dragon’s mind as they hovered away, phasing through the golden sand.

"Not alone."

The ghost’s answer provided a quandary, but one the dragon was hardly interested in pondering deeply over. A simple press of the brass handle opened the way into the beacon’s tower; the mechanism whined as if it hadn’t been used in decades.

Inside, as was promised, was a sealed box of provisions. Among its contents were an eagerly downed wooden bottle of water and several smaller meals. Golden Sky’s customary flat bread, sugared Lum preserve, and salted soybean curds in thick, peppery sauce.

Off-putting as their culture and people might have been, she couldn’t deny them their culinary sophistication. Even if she wished their creations would be less… intensely flavored.

ring, ring-ring

Oh?

The high-pitched chime coming from the tiny pier made the Windrider turn around on the spot, spotting a hardly unfamiliar sight rearing from the waters. In most places, the blue-red jelly kin were known as nuisance at best, and ocean’s malice made manifest at worst. Under the Golden Sky’s reach, they were kelp harvesters, medicine providers, or simply marine couriers.

The latter seemed to be the case here.

A gray tentacle was lowering a small, brass capsule into the basket affixed to a small bell at the end of the pier when the rest of the creature had spotted her. Instead, the creature floated closer, flashing the red orbs on top of their body to catch the dragon’s attention as they held the capsule high in the air for her to reach.

With a quick telekinetic grab, she received the package, hovering it in front of herself afterwards.

A wordless exchange of nods later, the courier descended back under the waters again. The Windrider watched the faint red light fade away with distance as the jellyfish followed the guidance of a thick rope attached underwater to the pier’s end, connecting the tiny island with the nearest landmass.

Unsure what to do with it, the dragon floated back inside the beacon, intending to leave the small capsule for Sun of Great Beyond to read once they had returned. As she was placing it down, though, she took notice of the recipient field, a single symbol engraved in soft wax.

Latch’s nickname for her.

Taken aback, the dragon slowly worked the capsule open, breaking its wax seal before unscrewing both halves apart. Inside, a single tightly rolled sheet of the most common writing medium in Golden Sky, a dry paper made of seaweed that always felt more fragile than it actually was.

As far as the Windrider was considered, the only reason these people stuck to it was because of the lack of a suitable alternative.

With the message taken out, she dumped all the metal parts into a large basket in the chamber's corner. One day, they would be transported back to Golden Sky and smelted to be reused in perpetuity, but the dragon neither knew nor cared about that.

At last, she unrolled the small page, the Golden Sky’s emblem taking up a hefty chunk of it. Combined symbol of its ever conflicted twin deities, their inherent strife giving way to ingenuity, creativity, and invention, at least as far as the civilization folklore was considered.

Outer ring of solid gold, symbolizing Chaos.

Three silver stripes inside it, symbolizing Order.

The medium didn’t convey their colors, but the iconography was so common inside the brilliant city that her mind had filled in the blanks. Underneath the grand seal, the words written in rushed, messy cursive.



V,
Assuming I planned it correctly, you’ll get this at your rest on East Edge Islet! No worries if not, sadly I’ll get to tell you everything in person, anyway.
Expedition was delayed!!
Aggravating beyond words. Sages mumbled something about The Twins being in particularly harsh conflict lately and some more of their usual vague warnings. Can’t care less, but the bookkeepers do and so another week to go. Just in time for you to get back!
I know you didn’t want to go, you were clear enough about that, but another thing happened! Which I can’t tell you about here! If we were to leave at our original date, I would’ve told you because you would really want to know but if the bookkeepers found out, they would have me buried in salt and I’m not risking that if I’m leaving late and can just tell you in person!
Just know that it’s something VERY important and something you will want to know about! But not as important as to have you skip your rest to fly over here! Not urgent! Important, not urgent! Eat, rest, take as much time as you need V. The news will be waiting for you when you arrive!
I hope your pilgrimage hasn’t had any more obstacles than usual!
Missing you dearly,
Great Latch of the Utmost Grand Gate



If you're confused about the species of the characters and want them spoiled, I've set up a page listing the species of all the featured characters in each chapter!

If you want to discuss the story, I've set up a Discord server for it! (and my other writings)

Also check out my other main fic, From the Vast!
 
Chapter 21: Freedom


Chapter 21: Freedom



Content Warning: Mentions of Suicide

Eventually, Sue woke up.

She had no idea when that happened, nor did she have much reason to care. Not anymore, at least. There were a few details she could piece together without opening her eyes, and that’s what her mind decided to focus on distracting itself with. She couldn’t sense anyone else nearby.

Unless one of the night kin gave her an unexpected visit, it meant she was alone.

The faint glow that penetrated her eyelids told her that the sun had long risen. And, by extension, that she’d slept in hard. Suppose with the chaotic, mentally exhausting mess of yesterday that was hardly a surprise. Still, the awareness of her own laziness made her feel just that bit worse.

On top of all the other things Sue felt horrible about.

I rushed straight into Newmoon like an idiot. Likely sabotaged their peace talks before they even began. Maybe—

The thought choked up the Forest Guardian as she curled tighter on her bedding, thinking back to Spark’s despair. To Sundance’s grave injury. To the absolute clusterfuck of a mess that Ginger accidentally toppling a third of Night Mother’s shrine would cause.

Maybe it’s all my fault.

Maybe I really was meant to die when rescuing Spark and Pollux, and all this is a consequence of me being allowed to live.


The train of thought was immensely unpleasant to think about, even beside the obviously horrible undertones. It was far from the first time Sue had consideered ending it all, but on a practical level, she knew she didn’t have it in her. She was a coward through and through, one much too used to wallowing in her own pathetic misery to even consider freeing herself from it.

Through any means, not just the most drastic.

Her mind took its sweet time torturing itself, listing every way in which this could’ve been avoided. From things as simple as listening to Sundance like she should have, to her just not showing up here in the first place. Sue had no way of knowing, of course, but suspected that if she hadn’t been on that particular trip on that particular day, she wouldn’t have ended up here.

If she had friends, any friends instead of pushing through with an internet-addicted loneliness. Even just acquaintances, literally anyone to just hang out with on that fateful day, regardless of if she liked them. Or had gotten herself a boyfriend already. Or took up a side job to not waste time strutting through the woods at the ass end of Scotland and instead pad out her savings some more.

If only I was just fucking normal.

Those thoughts didn’t lead her anywhere and never would, Sue was well aware of that fact. Throwing a wrench into their ever winding spiral was always the hardest part. Anything to let her brain switch tracks into something less depressing.

‘Less’ was definitely the load bearing word here.

She opened her eyes with a grunt, a slight movement of her neck to look upwards forcefully informing just how sore she was all over. Empty tent, Solstice’s bed neatly made. There was a lighter patch of canvas further up; the sun was shortly before, or shortly after, noon. Neither of those possibilities was particularly encouraging.

Something else to think about, something dumber.

That dream.

Sue still remembered it clearly, despite her lack of any interest in what had transpired inside it. Night Father deservedly chewing Night Mother out, two weird small shadows she couldn’t quite place. Eventually, everything falling apart.

She didn’t even have it in her to stick with the ‘Duck’ thing anymore.

Especially with how vividly messed up that depiction was. It almost looked like it had been assaulted and... hell, vandalized. Like, a bunch of hoodlums just came over and kicked everything that stuck out and spray painted the rest. Did that represent what Ginger had done to her altar? Not a wholly nonsensical possibility, but then again.

Did all that mean anything at all?

What if it all really was just a dumb dream her guilty subconscious came up with to make sense of it all? Sue remembered joking that she didn’t have the creativity to come up with everything she’d seen in these visions. But what if it wasn’t her and this body she was stuck in?

What if it was messing with her again? What if it had been lying to her? What if this body alone was twisting her mind? What if these dreams weren’t real, the emotions all around her weren’t real, the affection Lilly or Joy had felt towards her weren’t real? What if she really had been making it all up to appease herself, to delude herself into thinking anyone here gives a shit any more than anyone back home did?

What if—

This is dumb.

Sue closed her eyes and withdrew further into her bedding, grumbling into the nearest patch of exposed fabric. At least half of these possibilities sounded even dumber than the associated events having genuinely happened. She was psyching herself up, she knew that. Even then... some of those still felt scarily possible, to an extent.

She was about ready to doubt it all again, to launch off into another spiral. Her brain threw a spanner into the cogs of that aggravating train of thought, stalling it, if briefly. The tiny note attached to the spanner, though, sent her worrying again about things that mattered much more than her being a whiny, sad, worthless mess.

What’s gonna happen to Newmoon?

One of theirs had attacked a citizen of Moonview, then their de facto leader had defaced a sacred shrine. She knew that this wasn’t all there was to either situation. The night kin had tried to catch Juniper, and the latter was an accident that Kantaro outright supported. Knowledge like that was helpful, but Sue feared it ultimately wouldn’t matter.

Everyone would just see the blurb and pick up their pitchforks.

...

Assuming they haven’t already done that.

A freezing chill went through her spine at the thought; her slow breaths turned panicky. She’d tried to think of what would happen afterwards, settling on hoping beyond hope that the night kin would be just exiled again. And not worse. Merely driven out of their homes because of no act of their own once more. Thank goodness for Moonview’s infinite magnanimity in letting these lesser creatures live despite their second-hand sins, or something.

Even as she considered those actually important consequences, a selfish thread soon crept into her mind. Despite her attempts at forcing it out, it persisted. It did a wonderful job in making the once-human feel even worse for thinking about herself in all this.

I’m stuck here now, aren’t I?

The thought of her supposed purpose here was a distant one by now, distant and inane to consider. How did she think she could actually help in this nightmarish mess? Worse yet, how could the supposed deity that put her here expect her to make anything better?

Sue felt like a moron, but that deity must’ve been an imbecile through and through.

Regardless of the exact intelligence quotient of the divine dimwit in question, it had won. Sue failed at her task, she’d be stuck here forever. Or, at least, until she finally died.

Forced to stay in this insane world.

A couple of tears welled up in the corners of her eyes at the thought. Not at the horror of spending her days in Moonview, but at how conflicted it all made her feel. She was stuck in a hellish ethnic conflict, one side of which might or might not have already been chased out of their homes for the second time. Even if no more blood would be spilled, she’d have to live with knowing that this place had hurt so many people so many times, even without it all being specifically her fault.

The local wildlife was monstrous and fully capable of killing her if she’d ever dared step a foot outside of Moonview. Hell, nobody inside the village was any better either, literally every living being here could probably end her life in a dozen different ways. And if she kept practicing her freaky brain magic, in time, so could she.

And yet...

The thought that followed stung extra hard, much more so than the injury on her horn at its worst. Despite doubting them earlier, despite trying to ascribe them to the trickery of this new body of hers... she still felt all these emotions coming from people she cared about. Even if they were just a result of her own bodily deception, if she would die as a Forest Guardian, it wouldn’t matter. It’d just be the new normal for her, on top of an entire pile of other new normals.

Joy’s attachment, Sundance’s pride, Lilly’s infatuation. Solstice’s...

Sue cringed extra hard, not wanting to spell that one out to herself. Not wanting to acknowledge everything that had been steadily brewing in her mentor, and which she’d been sneaking glimpses of throughout. She didn’t deserve to be thought of this way, to receive that kind of comfort. Besides, what an insult it all would be to Aurora in particular. Getting replaced by a moronic, psychically crippled stranger that had accomplished nothing of value.

If vengeful ghosts exist in this world, this is the stuff that brings them into existence.

The other side of the equation was, despite all the Moonview’s unfolding tragedies, even more depressing. A familiar world in which not a single soul cared about her beyond the most detached, professional interest. Where she wouldn’t be torn apart by massive spiders, but where nobody would look after her was she to fall lower in life and end up on the streets, either.

Where, outside of a few randoms on some forums she’d frequented, nobody had even realized her absence.

Suppose the flip side of being this much of a loner was that she wouldn’t be hurting anyone she cared about if she were to stay here. No friends, no relatives. At most, a couple of concerned teachers. Maybe a police investigation. And then, life would keep turning on without her, without one of billions of cogs in its massive machine.

Replaced so effortlessly it’s as if she was never there at all.

It was a choice without an answer.

Sue’s mind went crazy as she tried to make heads and tails of it all. Torn between the options, between all their factors. Torn between which of these two outcomes she wanted,

And which she really deserved, deep down.

A mutated failure who fell face first into any sort of positive attention, and which had only made everything worse afterwards—

shuffle

Sue’s depressive spiral was suddenly interrupted by her eyes being assaulted with light; a low groan signaled her displeasure. As she squinted towards the tent’s entrance, she finally made out the being that had just stepped in. Their mumbling voice was soft as usual, but not without its own share of nervousness, amplified further at seeing the state she was in.

“Good morning, Willow...”

Her tone wasn’t particularly encouraging, but at least she wasn’t in obvious pain. A couple winces later, she’d finally pushed herself off the bedding’s surface. Half her body complained with various levels of soreness as she sat up. The other wanted to get some more sleep.

Cranky, ouchy, but, at last, fully awake for once.

Behold.

As Sue properly came to, she focused more on what emotions she could sense coming from Willow. Concern, worry, a bit of surprise at seeing her here. Less so here and more so at this hour, probably. All those were being pushed out of their mind as they tried to concentrate, professional focus soon replacing them. Just as they did many times by now, the pink and cream medic got to examining her busted leg, whispering reassurances as they unwound the bandage.

This time... it wasn’t half bad, at last. True, it still looked like the aftermath of a bad kitchen knife accident, but was now firmly on the side of ‘annoying’ as opposed to ‘life threatening’. The few supplies they’d brought with themselves got used one by one. Some more medical-looking ointment, some more dressings to secure the injury. No more reinforcement, finally.

She’d briefly considered trying to link up with them for some chitchat, but... soon dismissed that idea. She didn’t feel like using her injured psychics, there wasn’t much to be talking about.

Those two were valid reasons, but far from the only ones.

Sue had no idea about everything that could’ve possibly contributed to the medic’s reactions yesterday when seeing her with Ginger. Could very well be that they’d heard what had happened to Sundance and maybe had assumed that the technicolor lizard had done it. Or they really were just that nervous because of the firefox’s injury.

Sue didn’t know, and to a decent extent, didn’t care.

It still weirded her out, and she still couldn’t help but see the medic in a different light afterwards.

With the replacement bandages finally secured, Willow caught her attention with a couple of light pats. Their instructions weren’t particularly difficult to decode. Point at her legs, point at the floor. Point at her, point up.

Getting up just on her own was trickier than she’d remembered it being. But, for the first time in almost a week, finally possible. It didn’t feel all too comfortable, not with her injury still aching a bit, but she could at least stand.

A couple more days and I’ll be ready to walk normally again—

Sue’s assessment of her own recovery was immediately interrupted by Willow’s short, satisfied comment as they turned to leave the tent.

With her crutch in their arms.

She was too stunned to even respond. One arm reached out in mute protest, but before she could gather words, it was too late. The medic was gone, and so was her mobility tool.

A quick test of walking soothed at least a bit of Sue’s panic. She could walk on her own now, and her leg only occasionally ached anymore. A far cry from her borderline self-harming excursion towards the window when she’d first woken up. Minor pain didn’t mean ‘no pain’ though, and even just circumnavigating Solstice’s tent proved more annoying than she’d hoped it’d be.

Some of her wanted to lay back down and be a vegetable for the rest of the day. The possibility wasn’t even that outlandish or disagreeable, really. If nothing else, she wouldn’t make anything else even worse. However, another factor fought against, and eventually overpowered, her own seething depression. Even if it was for very banal reasons.

She was really, really hungry.

Breakfast first, moping later.

With the world’s driest, most joyless chuckle, Sue headed for the tent’s entrance. She grumbled as she stepped outside, eyes squinting and briefly tearing up at getting used to so much light again. Before long, though, she was on her way towards the pantries and kitchens on the other end of Moonview. With nobody to guide her, nobody to restrain her, and no crutch to keep her company.

At last, she was free to roam in this doomed world she had created.


Sue had a noticeable limp, and it annoyed her.

Even if it didn’t feel like she was undoing days of healing with each step, her leg still wasn’t ready to take all the beating head on. She somehow walked slower than with a crutch, and the light prick of pain with every other step added up into minor frustration. Worse yet, it felt like this arrangement drew even more attention onto her than she’d had before with her crutch.

Though, the much more likely reason for the latter was everything that had happened yesterday, wasn’t it?

Sue grumbled under her breath at the thought. The lizard had done nothing wrong, and almost every other person was focusing on her because of her having accompanied him. A part of her wanted to stop and shout at the passersby, ask them just what the hell was their problem. She knew full well that all she’d accomplish was to make even more of a circus out of herself, the awareness helping exactly jack.

She wasn’t even sure how many of those looks were of concern for her, how many of fear, how many of reassurance, how many of disgust. All those were mixing in there, sure, but with half her brain soggy to the point of falling apart, the other half cranky, and the third half being pushed to overdrive just to let her get around, she had negative spare brainpower to really think through it all.

A distraction is in order.

As to what she could even distract herself with... Sue had no idea. No good ideas. Willow’s clinic was on her way to the clearing, anyway. She could very well swing by and check up on Sundance. Whether she should was... debatable, but at least it’d be a distraction. And if Spark was still there, she could try to do something helpful in comforting her a bit.

Yeah, that should help.

Just a single, tiny way in which her presence in Moonview was actually making anything better. Were she feeling any less torn apart, she would’ve been able to come up with a dozen more, but, alas.

Spotting the clinic’s door hanging open caught Sue off guard once she turned the corner. As confusing as it initially was, the wall of ambient heat she’d waltzed into the moment she cleared the doorframe answered the question before she could even ask it.

The clinic was busy, almost as much as when she first stayed here, but with immeasurably different moods throughout, be they sad or serious.

Spark had barely moved, still laying down beside her mom and only letting out a quiet whimper at seeing Sue walk in. The more plant-like of the medics was presently looking after the older vixen, her multicolored collar of flowers much easier to make sense of from closer up. She might not have been lecturing towards an entire informal class, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t busy passing her knowledge on.

The white and navy cat was present here, too. She spared Sue only the briefest glimpse before refocusing back on her teacher, letting the latter finally notice her arrival. In all honesty, Sue cared precious little for either of them, especially the feline. Not in the moment, at least.

And especially not when they were interrupting her from giving Spark the comfort she needed.

A brief touch of a vine on her shoulder made the Forest Guardian flinch and snap towards the source of the sensation. Her suddenness and accompanying annoyed expression took the living bouquet aback, the thin extremity soon withdrawing into the chaotic mess of flowers. A part of Sue wanted to tell her off for distracting her from this one important thing she could still do, to shout an obscenity or two and storm out.

Instead, she took a deep breath and forcibly softened her expression, sending it from aggravated to just deeply tired.

Satisfied at that development, the plant-ish medic was about to speak up before cutting herself off, remembering what had happened a couple of days ago. She turned directly to the cat in the room, asking what sounded like a question in a smooth, slow voice. Without skipping a beat, the psychic fulfilled her request, a white ear unfolding to show off a glowing something on its inner part, followed by a rough, but familiar sensation inside Sue’s mind.

“Hi. Orchid wants to—”

“Yes, yes, I know.”

Sue’s exasperation was even clearer to hear than it was to see, briefly taking the plant aback before she pushed on to her intended question.

“Pleasure to see you once more. Highly unfortunate it’s in such tense of a context. Sue, wasn’t it~?”

The Forest Guardian nodded wordlessly, slightly relieved that the middle-aged medic had enough courtesy to at least greet her first.

“Suppose it’d be uncouth of me to belay my point. Rumor has it you know what actually happened to Sundance, no?”

It was probably the exact last topic Sue wanted to talk about right now. She was of half a mind to turn toward the clinic’s entrance and just waltz out there and then, but... suppose that informing people tending to the vixen would be helpful in her recovery. Especially with the question catching Spark’s attention, too. The kit picked herself up and shyly walked over to Sue, wordlessly nuzzling the side of her hand, helping her further in keeping her cool.

Just have to get over myself and bumble it out.

“I was there, yes. I got a... very good look at what had happened.”

Sue glanced down at the bandaged tip of her horn as she spoke. The connection immediately clicked into place for Orchid and Spark alike, with the cat remaining entirely unemotional as always.

“A-are you okay, Sue?”

Spark’s voice was warbling and hoarse, almost making the once-human pick her up into her arms there and then. With her disheveled state and weakness, though, she limited herself to petting the fox’s head, the gesture appreciated all the same.

Sue’s response left the plant medic briefly covering her mouth in shock, before she swallowed it and tried to push on.

“I’m terribly sorry, Sue. Still, such knowledge would greatly help, including in treating your own injury.”

Deep breaths, deep breaths.

“I-I wish I knew exactly. It all happened so fast, a-and... Juniper shot an arrow, i-it glowed a bit, and then grazed my horn and hit Sundance. I-I think that’s it.”

Despite her occasional crassness, the bouquet medic knew better than to probe more. She brought a hand to her mouth, thinking through what Sundance and Solstice had taught her about how one’s aura affected their physical health—

“Was it dark or spectral energy?”

The cat’s question was delivered in the exact same monotone as everything else she’d said previously. It came off as at best disinterested, and at worst as dismissive, and her lack of almost any emotion aside from focus only aggravated Sue more. Her eyebrow twitched as her former crutch hand tightened, her response enough to take Spark aback.

“Northeast dear, tis not the best time for a question of that sort—”

“Do I look like I fucking know?”

All the pent up stress inside Sue’s head was already looking for an outlet, and being asked dumb, borderline insulting questions only cranked the pressure valve up even further. Despite her forceful tone, Northeast still hadn’t gotten the clue, as evidenced by the response that came soon after.

“No, you don’t. You don’t seem to know much.”

...

...

“Northeast—“

“WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM!?”

For a few moments, the blood rushing to Sue’s head eclipsed all other sound. The silence that followed her outburst was near deafening, even outside the medic’s cabin. As the outside noises returned, so did a semblance of clarity.

And with it, the creeping realization of what she’d just done, underlined by the displeased shock of everyone around her.

For once, that group included the white and navy cat too. Her distress was at first slight, but then quickly grew afterwards. The first emotions Sue actually felt emanate from Northeast, and of course it was sadness caused by none other than her.

Before her self loathing could fully get going, the Forest Guardian jumped slightly at finally seeing a movement in her vision—

And watched the psychic cat run out of the clinic, teary-eyed.

I just blew up on a fucking child, haven’t I.

There were many things Sue knew she should’ve done in that situation, many ways to show a semblance of maturity, even following what she just did. She didn’t have it in her to do any of them, though, not in a state like this.

And so, she ran out too, fighting back her own tears as she shambled away, towards the clearing. Towards somewhere to sit down at, somewhere to eat at, away from what she’d done. Every single rational part of her might’ve known that even in the worst-case scenario, she’d only insulted someone. Nothing serious—at worst it’d result in bad blood going forward and life would keep moving on.

But fuck if I didn’t need that to happen right now.

She hadn’t even realized she’d arrived at the clearing until a loud bark snapped her out of her ever tightening panic spiral. Suddenly she was somewhere else, shaking with her entire body as she leaned her weight on one of the tables. A handful of tears wetted the rough wood beneath her face. She turned over to see the source of the noise, expected to see someone who would chew her out for that, someone to administer the punishment she needed—

And instead, saw Spark climbing first on the benches, and then up on the table, before resuming her attempts to comfort her.

“N-no, S-Spark, you don’t have to...”

Even just these words almost made her break up there and then. They also redoubled the fox’s efforts, the warm affection making Sue weak and forcing her to finally take a seat. Within moments, the vixen was on her lap, nuzzling her stomach. She spoke with quiet whimpers, trying as hard to reassure her as she could manage. Regardless of whether Sue thought she deserved that reassurance, it was steadily working.

Enough so to make the once-human pull her friend into a tight hug, all the pent-up tears finally finding release. All her self loathing thoughts, her fears, her doubts. They were still there, they burned ever stronger, but... Spark was here, too. The firefox wouldn’t comprehend a third of the murk that went through Sue’s head and wasn’t aware of the other third, but she wanted to help with it all.

To help her friend.

Tear by tear, the worst steadily blew over as Sue pet Spark, each motion relieving their combined tension. Things weren’t great for either of them. They both hurt, but Duckdammit if they wouldn’t at least help their friend feel less sad.

And the other appreciated it more than they could ever know.

Many minutes later, tears finally stopped flowing. Sue opened her eyes again, looking down straight at Spark’s similarly puffy ones. Whether their initial meeting was Fate, random chance, the Forest Guardian body acting up or something else altogether, they had each other now.

“Th-thank you, Spark...”

w-woof!

The incomprehensible response forced a stray chuckle out of Sue, the unexpected sound helping to relieve some of the tension. And with tension, food helped a lot, too, a lesson learned dozens of times from experience.

With a couple of weak pats, the little fox was once more on the grass, letting her friend pick herself back up and look around for someplace to grab something to eat from. She wasn’t in the mood or emotional stability to be dealing with Hazel again, this place mostly served bugs...

Suppose the ladybug-operated food bank worked as well as anywhere else.

There weren’t nearly as many leftovers inside as when Solstice had taken her there, but there was still more than enough for both her and Spark. The little of her previous visit that Sue remembered included the four-armed ladybug being nocturnal, but that wasn’t stopping them from manning the stall well into the morning. Not without the expected consequences, though.

Even if all she could hear with her ears was buzzing, they screamed exhaustion to her sixth sense. Exhaustion, anger, and most surprisingly of all, fear. Fear of what exactly she couldn’t place, not once they had finally spotted her.

And grew angrier at the sight.

The whiplash of the emotional shift had Sue stop there and then, left with no idea how to respond. Their compound eyes had narrowed at her in their entirety as their ill will became downright palpable, her fear growing by the moment.

Spark’s woofs soon diffused some of the tension, enough so for the ladybug to at least stop glaring at Sue. Even if they disliked her, she was there for a reason, and it was their duty to dispense food to those who came.

To do anything of value despite their muteness, to make the most out of their crippled existence.

The provided meal was only so in the loosest sense of the word. Sue had reminded herself of their name, Sunrise, just in time to see them slam a couple of harder fruits on the food bank’s countertop, denting one and cracking the other.

And then, lift a singular arm, pointing straight away from themselves.

Don’t fucking have to tell me twice.

Sue leered at Sunrise as she took the sloppily provided meal, immediately upping her pace to take a seat somewhere well away. She had no idea just what the hell was their problem, but it hardly mattered anymore. It sure didn’t help in the big scheme to have a local be irrationally angry at her, but at the very least, it distracted her moping with some anger of her own for a change.

The cracked fruit was split in half, one part given to Spark once they sat down. With both of them getting their portions, they could get comfortable on the nearest bench and calm down at their own paces, at least in the moment. The past day has been stressful enough to where neither of them really needed any further sources of anxiety, and even something as simple as a slap dashed meal was doing wonders.

Local fruits tasting so much better than anything Sue had back at home sure helped, too.

Once she was done recovering from the ladybug’s mute outburst, Sue could finally give it some conscious thought. Just what was wrong with them? They were entirely fine when she’d visited them with Solstice a few days ago, she was sure of that. No anger towards either the Mayor or her, an almost total one-eighty today. Scared, angry, and... sleepless. Too afraid to sleep now and not then, furious at her all of a sudden.

Aside from botching Moonview’s peace attempt, what had she actually done over these past couple of days? It’s not like Sunrise knew of that fact, it couldn’t have been it. Had to have been something they could’ve seen, something eye-catching she did here in Moonview.

...

Or maybe someone that had accompanied her in here—

tap tap

If the moment of reprieve had accomplished something, it was helping Sue not jump anxiously at yet another unexpected sensation.

Instead, she’d kept enough of her composure to just look up from her previous focus—namely, grass—and coming face to face with someone familiar, but also someone whose name she still had no idea of. The brown spiky pangolin was a part of the builders’ team. She knew that with confidence, but anything beyond that, gender included, remained an enigma.

The realization didn’t help any with her anxiety, though, not with yesterday’s events. The builders and Ginger had clearly been at least friends before, and they all saw her yesterday when she was following the lizard around. For a moment, Sue thought she’d look up and see the rest of them surrounding her, getting ready to use their strength to get all the details out of her the hard way.

Instead, the pangolin was on their own for once. What Sue could sense radiating from them mostly matched her own emotions. Uncertainty, confusion, for once no depression, releasing the once-human’s tension before it could build up even further.

A truly refreshing mix.

Sue had no idea why they’d decided to catch her attention. The kit on her lap could at least try to find out, though. Her barks and the stranger’s chitters continued for a few moments, with both of them growing less and less certain by the moment. Something unpleasant was a shoo-in on the account of everything being unpleasant lately, but the details were anyone’s guess.

Feeble as she might’ve acted, though, Sue did have a way of bridging that gap.

The pangolin knew that, too. After a moment of deliberation, they mimed it out. First, one of the long claws tapped their forehead, and then they moved it closer towards Sue’s, keeping the dangerous-looking extremity just out of reach.

Her racing heart definitely appreciated it.

She had no idea whether she was even capable of linking up in her current state. As with most things, though, there was only one way of finding out, if a painful one.

Once she’d acknowledged their words with a firm nod, Sue went through her usual routine. Each movement of her aura caused the dull ache in her horn to spike in intensity, but only a little each time. If anything, it was the part of her that was hurting the least. Ultimately, it only slowed her down and made the resulting connection rougher for both recipients.

Rougher, but usable.

And the stranger was keen to get some use out of it.

“Hear, Guardian?”

Their voice wasn’t as rough as Sue expected it to be, having an almost squeak-like quality to it. It was also distinctly feminine, a fact that Sue would’ve appreciated in literally any other circumstances.

“Yes, yes, I can hear you. What’s your name?”

As with the other times she had to use her patchwork telepathy, the connection was far from clear. Still, that didn’t dissuade the stranger, their blip of confusion soon getting shook off with a response.

“Hoff. Kantaro ‘Sue’ mention.”

Not a kind of name anyone else had in here, Sue had to give her that. Once she’d listened to how the builder had pronounced it, its uniqueness became even clearer. It was a sound of shifting dirt and sand, pronounced entirely differently from either how Hoff or the rest of Moonview spoke.

An onomatopoeia name is new, that’s for sure.

“Yes, I’m Sue. How... can I help, Hoff?”

“Yesterday. You, Ginger. How?”

Of course, of course...

Sue exhaled deeply as she braced herself to recount the events again, not finding them hurting any less than before. Hopefully she won't get interrupted by an insanely rude cat this time...

“Sundance and Solstice went to Newmoon for peace talks, I tagged behind.”

A longer sentence demanded much more focus out of Hoff to decode in full. Judging by her eyes going wide, she eventually accomplished that regardless.

“Sundance Solstice Newmoon... alone? And you?”

Let’s hope Sue interpreted it the right way.

“They wanted to go alone, and I followed them.”

Successful clarification.

Heard I could get an IOU for a free pat on the back for that one.

“Sundance Newmoon hurt?”

Sue answered with a somber nod, following it up with a clarification soon after.

“Juniper hurt her, yes. Only Juniper, though. Others tried catching her, but she escaped.”

Seemed this one was beyond Hoff’s ability to decode, at least if a couple of idle scratches on the side of her head were any sign.

“Juniper attack, yes?”

“Yes, she attacked. Nobody else wanted her to attack. She escaped after.”

Finally, confusion loosened up, freeing up the dirt gears inside the builder’s mind.

“Newmoon not want attack. Juniper want attack.”

“Yes, yes, exactly.”

It was small and likely mattered little in the slightest, but Sue was glad she could at least help with explaining what had happened, despite her language limitations. Sure wasn’t anywhere near enough to make her outright relax, but... it helped. A lot.

“Newmoon not catch Juniper. Solstice not catch Juniper. Nothing catch Juniper.”

“Juniper ran away, yes.”

The anger that brewed up inside the brown quilled critter was an emotion Sue could really empathize with. Despite the unpleasant context, the kinship was soothing in its own right.

“Fuck bastard fuck shit fucker.”

Hoff’s string of mistranslated swears caught Sue entirely by surprise. She only barely restrained her laughter; the held-in chuckles sent her hiccuping.

“Good you?”

“Yes, yeshic—sorry.”

“No sorry. No bad. What after attack shit bird?”

Goddammit, the second try at holding her amusement in was even harder. Enough so to need Sue to breathe deeply for a few moments afterwards to regain composure. Hoff copied her action if for different reasons, inappropriate amusement and entirely appropriate anger evening out into calm-ish focus.

“Afterhic—after the attack, Newmoon helped Sundance. Ginger and Alastor helped carry me and Sundance.”

Finally, the dots were getting filled in, and the pangolin liked exactly nothing of what she was piecing together.

“Newmoon not harm. Juniper harm. Newmoon help. Ginger help.”

Four outta four.

“Yes, yes, hic, yes, yes.”

The confirmation sparked a bunch of emotions inside Hoff, most of them the less pleasant sort. Everything the Forest Guardian had said was relatively obvious in hindsight, but a confirmation was very important, especially with what the builder had heard thrown around. Anything from simple misunderstandings and cheer confusion,

To much more malicious versions of the events, for Ginger and Newmoon as a whole alike.

Not that Ginger knew how malice even feels like.

“Thank you thousand, Sue. Need tell others. Many wrong know.”

Hoff’s parting words finally stirred Sue’s emotions, pushing her out of the self-protective detachment. Guess her explanation really was helpful if the builder felt compelled to spread it afterwards. That her version of the events wasn’t the commonly accepted one was worrying for sure, but at least there now was someone else to help spread it.

And if she knew anything about the team of builders, soon that one would be upgraded to four, if not five or six. From there... who knows?

Maybe they’d succeed at spreading the truth. Maybe the public opinion was already too set in stone to be swayed. Maybe Hoff wasn’t expecting this to work out either and was more so doing this to soothe her own conscience.

Sue didn’t know. To some extent, she didn’t want to know, either. It’d be nice for someone else to worry about all that for once.

What she wanted, instead, was some place she and Spark could try to relax some more, now that they’d wrapped up their impromptu breakfast.

And there was one excellent spot for that they both thought of.


Spark immediately turned more lively the moment she realized where they were both heading. Not quite cheerful, not by a long shot, but with her friend around, and soon many more friends too, the scary events of the past day were easier to push through. And once they were all done playing, she’d be able to go back to her mom and tell her about everything that had happened today! She really enjoyed listening to her recollections.

The kit just hoped she could hear them like this, too.

Sue wasn’t privy to the firefox’s exact thoughts, but she could feel the relief inside her clearly. The emotion was soon joined by her own, especially once she recognized who was already present at the oversized daycare.

And moments later, both of them noticed her too.

Astra’s soft but mighty cry provided almost as much comfort as Joy’s harsh, shrill one. The latter was accompanied by the toothy one running all the way over to her other big friend. Joy was right about to hug Sue’s leg before doing a double take at the different set of bandages—and more importantly, at the absence of the ever present crutch. The change was unexpected enough to make her stammer out a single, confused sounding word as she pointed at Sue’s empty right arm.

She’s adorable when she’s surprised.

If there was any upside to Willow unexpectedly taking her crutch away, it was having both arms available for what she was about to do.

Joy’s drawn out squeal at being picked up was even cuter than her greeting one, enough so for Sue to even overlook the clinking of the maw’s metal teeth. The little one wasted no time before trying to hug as much of the Forest Guardian as she could from her new vantage point, only really embracing a single shoulder. Her point of view also let her finally notice the bandage on Sue’s horn, though the brief worry that resulted from that was banished with another hug.

Astra’s hug.

Despite catching her from the left field, it was no less welcome, especially as it made Joy’s hug grow even tighter.

And judging by how much she weighed despite her tiny size, combined with her being at least partially made of metal, something told Sue that there wasn’t such a thing as a ‘too firm hug’ for Joy.

By the time the dragon let go of the other two and they all could sit down, Spark was already way off playing with others, though never stepping too far from her Forest Guardian friend.

Note to self: Arrange a day where I can just pet both Joy and Spark all day long.

The thought brought in no small amusement, made sweeter still by the metal girl sitting down on her lap soon after. Even having her hand grasped by the toothless tip of the scary maw felt more cute than not to Sue by now, despite it still putting her on somewhat of an edge.

She still had her other hand to keep Joy’s front head, and that’s all that really mattered—

tap tap

Who the fuck is it this—oh.


While Sue was much more eager to speak with Astra compared to either of the earlier two, she couldn’t help but worry that she’d just be asked the same thing again, killing the mood once more. The mental routine of it being a way to help Newmoon out helped a bit, but was really beginning to wear thin. Especially with her already being so worn down today.

Suppose she could do it again, this once.

Going through her impromptu ritual was much harder with just one hand, substantially so. Doubly so, since it was her left hand that was immobilized, the one she typically used for the part where she tuned out the nearby emotions. Guess if it comes down to it, she could be extremely rude and pull it out of the maw full of metal teeth, but she would rather not.

Just as the last time she’d practiced this with Solstice, the glare of feelings was almost blinding. Unpleasant for her and her wounded extremity alike, but not unbearably so. Bit by bit, Sue went through the parts of her brain that usually tingled when she did the emotion tuning step, inching gradually closer to replicating it arms-free. Inch by inch, the overwhelming light dimmed. Until finally, the minds that radiated said glare came into view.

tap tap

“Just a moment, Astra...”

Sue felt Joy shift on her lap and disappointingly let go of her left hand at her mumble, but remained focussed on accomplishing the feat the way she’d initially set out to. Honed in on who she was sure was Astra, now to just reach in, carefully, push through the pain, and—

“Ow.”

Guess not carefully enough.

Confirming the noise, a glance over Sue’s shoulder revealed the dragon to be lightly rubbing the side of her head. Less injured and more so surprised. Unfortunate, but thankfully only a tiny mishap.

“H-hey, Astra.”

Hearing Sue’s voice dispelled any remaining aching in an instant. Doubly so when the orange reptile responded with yet another hug, much gentler this time.

And lifted Sue onto her own lap along with it, the bulky dragon’s leg just large enough to comfortably sit on.

“Heya, Sue! Good chat you again.”

“Y-yeah, s-same here.”

“Alright ya? Commotion yesterday, heard much, you injured—”

“I-I’m alright Astra, I’m alright. Promise.”

As alright as reasonably possible, at least.

“Phew, relief! Want ask you if right.”

Please not again...

“S-sure...”

“I force work soon, tomorrow, not have care Joy. Ya could?”

Oh.

Sue was reasonably certain she’d pieced together the dragon’s meaning right away, though that didn’t leave her any less dumbfounded. Suppose if there was anyone who was a good fit for looking after Joy for a few days, it was her, but...

Thinking about it made many of the earlier kinds of anxiety creep back in.

Sue wanted this, she couldn’t even pretend she didn’t want that. She’d be tangibly helping people of Moonview out, she’d be spending more time with Joy, she’d be giving the little one the comfort and affection she needs.

But did she deserve this? After everything she’d done? Was she worthy of getting to fulfill her wants this much, in such a nourishing way, considering everything yesterday, and even earlier today—

“Sue?”

She had no idea, but the ‘caught off-guard Sue’ always went with her gut instinct, and not any well established logical reasoning.

And what her gut was saying was loud and clear.

“Y-yeah, I’d love to! Wh-when do you leave?”

The dragon’s hug was immediate and immensely relieving yet again, especially when doubled up on by Joy’s shortly after. She didn’t even know whether the toothy girl had actually understood what was said beyond a few bits and pieces, but... a part of her didn’t care. It felt good to be held like this, to have people show her affection, not because she had done something or was someone important.

But because she was herself.

It was really, really nice.

“Thank thank thank! Leave young morning. Joy sleep you.”

Guess at least she had the rest of the day to prepare. Solstice’s tent wasn’t the most spacious, but... they’d figure something out.

“I can handle that, yeah.”

“Great! Joy, sleep Sue. Sue watch tomorrow days. I leave days.”

The metal girl had an even more scattered comprehension of Astra’s words than Sue, but it seemed she got the gist. Or at least, understood enough to first hug Sue the most she could from her vantage point, and then her other guardian’s nearby paw. She got some more affection in response, so all was good in the world.

Feeling Joy on her lap like this was... comforting, in a way Sue couldn’t describe if she wanted to. Even more so than usual, on a deeper level. More... right.

It felt great, it felt worrisome.

It felt like something not for here and now.

Which meant time for a distraction, and to answer one of her own questions.

“Astra?”

A look upwards had Sue stare the mighty dragon straight in the eye, the sight utterly nonthreatening despite Astra’s size.

“Oh?”

“Why do you need to leave?”

The question made a fireball go off inside Astra’s mind. Both at understanding Sue’s point, at answering the young Forest Guardian’s question, and at getting to talk about her job for a moment. With all the motivation she could’ve ever wanted, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a bunch of sheets of paper, together with a couple of wrapped sticks of charcoal.

“Make map! Look new lands. New peoples. Root tells look small peoples.”

I don’t like the sound of that.

“A cartographer?”

Astra took a moment to make heads and tails of the complex words, eventually affirming Sue’s hunch with a tentative nod. Quite a cool job as far as Sue was concerned, especially with Astra’s apparent ability to fly so far out she got to make maps. This world might’ve felt uncharted, but its inhabitants most definitely weren’t gonna let it remain so forever.

And of course, a job like that sparked the most obvious follow up.

“What’s the coolest place you’ve seen?”

For once, the dragon answered right away.

“Divine mountain! Only foot. Very very massive. Needle make crazy!”

“...needle?”

Another immediate response. This time, Astra reached into her satchel and pulled out a round, wooden trinket. Sue’s suspicion was confirmed moments later, with the top part getting opened up to reveal a rather pitiful, slightly bent metal needle, one end painted red.

“Point south! How wonder. From far, very. Much far even Central City.”

Guess it makes sense for a compass to be an artifact. And raises a question of who built it...

“I’ve seen one of these before, that’s awesome!”

“Is awesome! You awesome! Again thank!”

She should’ve seen that one coming, huh?

Silly as Astra’s response was, Sue couldn’t help but feel warmer afterwards. Her heart wasn’t thinking of the dragon as anything more than a friend and there weren’t any inklings of that changing, but this kind of casual affirmation felt... good. It just felt good. She needed it badly, even if she wouldn’t have ever admitted to it personally.

With the conversation dying down, she got a wonderful opportunity to look at what all the other kids around were doing.

The very first little one might have been of the creepy sort, very creepy even, but now that she talked with Dewdrop, Sue knew better than to instantly freak out. It didn’t mean she immediately liked the green smiley-faced spider hanging down from a nearby branch, but at least it didn’t instantly send her halfway to a panic attack.

As long as it remained there.

Huh, wonder if it’s the red spider’s relative?

Further along the scene, a few more familiar faces were present, some of which Sue appreciated seeing more than others. She was entirely cool with the brown donkey whose name she didn’t know and the plant bud-like Petal, but the third member of their impromptu group immediately had her glaring. The pink scorpion-bat noticed her irate expression rather quickly, drawing others’ attention to her.

Only for them to focus back on their friend and speak up louder, the topic of their chatter not particularly hard to figure out.

Apologize to Joy or—or—

...

Yeah, there’s no finishing that thought in a non-messed up way, isn’t there?

Even beyond her not being able to think of any, Sue wasn’t a punishment kind of person. Not when calm, at least. She hoped that some of the other adults would come up with something suitable, or just talk it out with the bat.

They were sitting some thirty meters away from her and she could still feel their apprehension clearly.

For once, she wouldn’t need to wait long for an idle desire to at least start coming true. The pink scorpion audibly opposed the other two calling out to the leafy mantis nearby, but Splitleaf knew better than to not intervene. What they talked about afterwards, Sue had no idea about, and honestly, didn’t really care as long as it resulted in an apology towards the metal girl on her lap.

Judging by the pink one’s audible opposition, some progress was being made, hah.

At least something good—

...

Right as Sue was about to look over elsewhere, she spotted a bizarre object at the other end of the clearing, near where she sat when they all were here last time. The more she stared at it, the more unnerving the sight got, sending an icy dread through her. It looked just like Comet, but wrong, so very wrong. She couldn’t make many details from this far, but the dimensions were just... off.

A part of her wanted to ignore the unnerving sight, a different part wanted to call for someone else who hadn’t stopped using crutches literally earlier today to investigate, but the last part... wanted, no, needed to see what was going on. Even beyond the weird appearance, she felt emotions emanate from that entity, and none of the good ones.

None of the scary ones, either, just... the sad ones.

Her weakness.

With a couple of shaky breaths, Sue gently lowered Joy down on the well-worn dirt and stood up. Her arms shook, body tensed up. She was torn almost exactly in half between running towards and away from the not-Comet, but the ‘towards’ side was winning, ever so slightly.

She was deaf to Astra’s and Joy’s questions as she took one step, and another, and a third still. Each one shakier, each one smaller, but all approaching the...

Mimic.

The realization made her pause mid step as half-chewed bits of pop-culture knowledge were pushed to the forefront of her mind. It was about enough to make her run, but soon more pieces fell into place, disproving that half-baked idea. Mimics were supposed to be convincing, whereas this one just wasn’t, and got even less so the closer she’d walked to it.

It almost looked like a scarecrow.

Dirtied rag for skin, the same kind she’d seen Willow use here and there.

Tattered pieces of green thread for hair, some of it already weaved into the tassels she’d seen Dewdrop carry.

A pair of roof tiles for horns, like the ones suddenly stolen from Granite the previous day—

The realization audibly clicked in place for her, but by then, it was too late. Only a few meters separated her from the fake Comet. If it were to leap at her, there’d be nobody between them to intervene.

Right into its trap.

She could feel its fear, its worry, she felt them almost as clearly as she’d felt her own, but had no idea just what they meant. Were they even actual emotions? Was this entity drawing her in with fake feelings to match its fake body? She didn’t know, she couldn’t know, it was something out of a horror. Step by step, Sue slowly backed off from whatever the hell it was. To her terror, her movement was finally enough to make it move.

Or rather, twitch.

Whatever was inside the doll-like body inched forward towards her in a messy, uncoordinated way, one part at a time. All the while, it tried to keep the rest of its disguise in one place, even as it shook and lost balance.

It managed all of two feet before collapsing forwards.

Sue let an involuntary yelp at seeing its head roll off its body. The fruit the roof tiles were impaled into immediately came into view as the fake green hair scattered all around the small patch of sand.

The disguise was gone in seconds, replaced by a mess of individual items.

And a single, quivering being hiding underneath an off-white rag.

As pathetic as the sight was, it paled compared to what her sixth sense was showing her. Its sorrow had turned into heartbreak, fear into pure terror, the kind which she had felt just moments prior. Even with its disguise busted, it wasn’t trying to leap at her in an attack of desperation. It wasn’t fleeing to try its luck again. It just laid in place, shaking in one spot, its painful emotions ever growing.

It...

They...

...

They were crying.



If you're confused about the species of the characters and want them spoiled, I've set up a page listing the species of all the featured characters in each chapter!

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Also check out my other main fic, From the Vast!
 
Chapter 22: Curse


Chapter 22: Curse



For a while, Sue could only stare at the despairing heap.

Much of her rational decision making kept urging her to get out of here and ask someone less crippled for help with… whatever this being was. As acutely as she could feel their sorrow, there was still the possibility of all this being a trap of some sort, of this creature attempting to lure her in closer.

And right beside it, the equally likely possibility of them being genuinely sad because of their costume breaking.

Why would they disguise themselves as Comet, Sue didn’t know. But what she did know, with utter certainty, was that her heart was firmly in favor of comforting them.

Step aside, brain.

With a nervous shake, the Forest Guardian sat down on the rough sand of the playground, the obscured stranger within arm's reach. Whatever they were, they seemed to have sensed her joining them, growing still in anticipation. It didn’t help her nerves any, but by then, she was too set in her path to pay any attention to them.

“Hey... you.”

The tinge of confusion joining the sloshing despair beneath the off-white rag at least let her know they had heard her. Her words weren’t doing her any more favors here than with anyone else in Moonview, but by that point, Sue knew full well that it wasn’t the important part.

All that mattered was that she was here.

Her hand shook as she lowered it onto the small mound, doubts growing by the moment. Even beside the absurdity of it being a possible trap, them reacting badly to an unexpected touch could end similarly badly, and with no underlying ill intent. Maybe they hated being touched, maybe they were poisonous, maybe they’d run away the instant she made contact.

Many awful possibilities, none of which mattered.

She wanted to help them, help someone, and that’s what she’d try to do.

Sue felt the hidden creature freeze as she laid her hand on top of their disguised body, the immediate sensations... oddly pleasant. They were warm, like a living being, and very soft, downright squishy, underneath the rugged canvas.

Regardless of how they looked or didn’t look, in just a few moments, her touch began to have a marked effect on them. The once-human felt their sadness ease out with her every breath, every little movement of her petting hand working away at their anxious bind. The shift was gradual, but once Sue had noticed it, she only redoubled her affection. Shakes turned to gentle pets and one hand was joined by another, anything to help calm them down more.

“There, there, I’m here. I’m he—”

As unexpectedly pleasant as their interaction was turning out so far, the sight off to the side threatened to ruin it all in an instant. A pitch-black tentacle was gradually creeping out from under the rag, tipped with three claw-like extensions. Her heart hammered and mind screamed for her to do what she should’ve done in the first place and run; the sudden situation left her paralyzed-

And then, the blackness wrapped itself around one of her hands.

It felt... really nice.

It was similarly warm to the rest of their hidden body, and just as soft. To the best of Sue’s ability to make out, it was much more amorphous than it looked, the black tissue striking her as more of a gel than an actual well-defined limb.

They may have anxiously frozen once Sue had lifted her other hand, but relaxed even further once she gently grabbed their limb directly, fingers brushing along its surface.

Little hidden... slime creature?

As small as they were physically, Sue could only estimate their age. They sure didn’t feel adult, the immense swing of emotions between being provided and starved of attention made that clear. Most likely a child, but anything beyond that was impossible to determine.

Suppose taking a peek under the rag could help?

Now that their disguise had been entirely blown, there shouldn’t have been any issue with discarding the rest of it. And, whatever they might’ve looked like underneath, it sure beat the well-worn, stained rag that currently comprised the entirety of their appearance.

Just gotta take it off.

“Everything’s good, little one. Lemme take that thing off, the scare’s over—”

...

...

Sue’s eyes stared at the pitch-black blob, and the blob stared at her. The more she tried to focus on it, the less she could think at all, its dimensions entirely off. It was simultaneously too small and too large to be real, its impossibility filled Sue with vertigo as her mind locked up in an attempt to process it—

The next thing she knew, the hidden creature had scooted a few feet away from her; its emotions receded to terror. Doubling over and stabilizing her breathing was Sue’s immediate first reaction once she’d come to. The pain in her lungs felt like she hadn’t breathed for a solid while, head spun like she’d spent the last few minutes in a mixer.

As overwhelming and terrifying as those sensations were, they weren’t entirely unfamiliar. The Forest Guardian’s eyes went wide as she remembered feeling this exact indescribable sensation a few days ago, right here at the playground. Walking over with Comet in her arms, then she saw—

She saw—

She saw them.

“Th-that was you, wasn’t it?”

Their distorted squeak, muffled further by the rag covering them, helped snap Sue back to awareness. She’d looked at their real body, her brain blue-screened, and now they were freaking out in-

In fear.

Oh, no.

“Hey, hey, it’s all good.”

The reassurance was much more effective when accompanied by the Forest Guardian scrambling over to take a seat beside them once more, her touch immediately calming them down again. And then some, the bulk of the obscured body then scooting towards and pressing itself into her side.

As if wanting to be as close as possible.

The resumed routine of one hand petting the top of their body and the other holding their tentacle calmed them down further. Whatever the hell had caused... that when she looked at their body thankfully didn’t extend to their limbs, their blackness safely non-mind-melting. The more Sue thought about it, the sadder the entire situation became, especially once she’d connected the dots leading up to now.

They saw her, they saw Comet. They put this costume together, joined the other kids, and then it all fell apart, anyway. The question of ‘but why costume like Comet specifically’ was answered as soon as she’d asked it, the realization forcing a couple of tears down Sue’s cheeks.

“It’s because I was holding Comet, wasn’t it? Holding him with you... on your own.”

She still had zero idea just what the hell this creature was, but in that moment, Sue wanted nothing more than to keep them company for as long as they needed to. Hell, if they really were a child like she’d suspected them to be, it’d make it all even sadder, as they would obviously be looking for protection. For a home.

For a family.

Everything the little ones in the two villages had rightfully taken for granted.

Her sniffs were heard right away, adding worried confusion to the stranger’s whirlpool of emotions. An extra sized dose of affection eased them out, the once-human busy chewing through what was she to do now.

The worries about whether this was an actual child, about who would take care of them if so. The very acute concern of ‘just what do I do to not have them melt the brains of all of Moonview through their presence’. And the equally baffling question of what they even were in the first place.

A mountain sized fort of confusion in her head, and exactly nothing for answers.

Sundance would’ve known what to do...

The thought stung deeply, making Sue physically flinch. It was as true as it was profoundly unhelpful, especially now. Sundance wasn’t around at the moment. She couldn’t approach her for advice, but it didn’t matter.

The little one still needed her help, and she’d do everything in her power to provide.

And the very first step in that process was figuring out how to move them safely. For that, knowing their... composition would help a lot. That word felt so, so wrong considering the context, but with their body shape feeling so undefined, it was the most applicable one Sue could think of.

Looking under the cover was a bad idea, but what about reaching in there instead?

Slowly, Sue withdrew one hand and moved it down to the nearest edge of their protective rag. At the count of three, she reached in, bracing herself for whatever might happen with her entire body.

It felt... just as nice.

Sue’s hand was surrounded by the same soft warmth that comprised the lil’ one’s tentacle, but this time from all around. It reminded her of putty, but with none of the associated sliminess and alive, somehow. As much as her movement had startled them, making them shift and flow under the cover, they soon calmed back down as Sue held their tentacle and applied more affection without the rag in the way.

Them turning out to be amorphous wasn’t much help when it came to moving them around, though. At least, not initially, Sue growing steadily distraught at not thinking of anything before an idea clicked into place. A tremendously stupid idea, the kind they would’ve likely been angry to hear if they could read her thoughts. Regardless of whether Sue wanted that to be true, it was the only way forward she could think of, making it the best one by walk-over.

Why not... scoop them up?

They clearly weren’t flowing through the canvas, so there was no concern of them potentially spilling out while she carried them. She wouldn’t need to bring anything else, since she could just carry them in the rag they were hiding under. The entire dumb idea could’ve gone wrong in a dozen different ways, at least half of them leaving the lil’ one exposed in the middle of Moonview, their curse applying to everyone around.

Overall, she was just about ready to give it a shot.

Giving them a heads-up would help a lot, though, as would... asking them about all this.

While Sue’s mind tried to avoid kicking herself down too hard for not thinking to link up with them sooner, her brain was in the middle of alleviating that exact concern, repeating her little ritual. She grit her teeth as the injury on her front fin flared up, but ultimately persevered, trying to banish the built-up aching with deep breaths once done.

Time to finally greet them.

“H-hey there, little one. My name is Sue.”

Silence.

Sue blinked in her seat as a response kept not coming, not beyond the emotion of curiosity. Her connection was spotty, sure, but there was no way it’d entirely block out their communication. Suppose emotions worked in a pinch, but a more convincing sort would’ve been appreciated too. The hidden being felt... spaced out, now that she could sense it closer.

Let’s just lay the idea out and see how they react.

“I want to move you over to everyone else. Would it be alright with you if I carried you in your... disguise?”

She had no more luck than before, especially not with their reaction being this ambiguous. Clinging to her could mean many things as a response to this specific question, not helping Sue any.

Guess doing it first and asking for forgiveness later was the only way forward.

Fuck’s sake.

Still, she wanted to run the steps by them first, even if just for herself. If they understood any of it, great, but either way it’d help her a lot to have the entire plan laid out in her mind.

“I’m gonna f-fold the edges of the rag underneath you. Then I’ll close my eyes, flip you around, and tie the corners together. Is that alright?”

No words, only feels.

Calmness.

As much of a confirmation as Sue was gonna get.

Wasting no more time, she began to go through her steps, shaking throughout. She kept an unerring focus on the little one’s emotions all along, physically sighing in relief whenever a larger movement had them only grow a bit confused. Edges folded, now the potentially nasty part.

Sue didn’t expect them to be so light.

As terrified as they got by her staring at them directly earlier, they noticed her eyes being closed this time, remaining only slightly unnerved as their disguise kept moving underneath them. Sue’s hands blindly felt around their pudding-like body until she found the corners of their rag, the motions that followed determined and shaky. One knot, second knot, time to open her eyes.

And hope they wouldn’t immediately fall out.

To Sue’s utmost surprise, her plan worked.

A small bundle rested on the sand beside her, the being inside confused more than anything else. A couple of dark tendrils were reaching out through whichever openings there were, but the bulk of them remained contained.

Behold, a baby in a bag.

Getting up from the ground without a crutch, while possible, turned out to be a struggle in its own right. Especially once she had to apply any leverage on her still-injured leg. Teeth were gritted and grunts were mumbled, but eventually Sue got up entirely on her own, the bundle in her hand.

Singular hand.

It only then really hit her just how small the stranger was. They weren’t quite baseball-sized, but they were close, making Sue think of a large orange. With how magical everything and everyone here was, there was no reason they had to constrain themselves to any biologically feasible body sizes, of course, but the realization still took her aback.

Just a lil’ bagful of a baby.

With the aforementioned magical weirdness in mind, Sue sure didn’t expect Astra to be taken aback by the stranger, either. To the once-human’s immediate relief, the surprise wasn’t laced with any underlying terror, and faded soon after she’d sat down beside Astra. Joy was even less skittish. Spotting the ominous, clawed limbs reaching out from Sue’s bag only barely slowed down her dash towards her big friend’s lap.

And as Joy did, seeing Sue’s affection towards the bagful of stranger, she attempted to pet them.

Sadly, the pitch-black being didn’t react well to that. They immediately withdrew all the way into their bag, the sudden motion startling Joy. Sue didn’t want either of them to feel bad, and while being held close to her front wasn’t a panacea for anything, it still helped both of them out a lot.

A part of the Forest Guardian considered getting up right away and trying to talk to... someone about all this. The uncertainty about who was even the correct person to go over all this with, as well as the desire to not overwhelm the stranger, made her remain in her seat for now.

Just in time for stuff to start happening elsewhere around the clearing.

A loud, sing-song whistle perked Sue’s and Joy’s heads alike, making them lean from behind Astra in unison to figure out the source of the sound. Sue only faintly recognized the blue cloud bird and had no idea whatsoever about their name, but each time she’d seen them before, they were looking over the Moonview’s youth.

As was the case here.

Regardless of whether they were singing or speaking, their vocalizations sounded just as nice. Sue’s attempt to fish out some of the very few words she knew of Moonview’s language proved entirely fruitless, annoying her more than usual by the virtue of just how impossible it felt. The way the little ones over in Newmoon each said their words differently made it clear that there was a lot of flexibility in pronunciation, but this went one step further.

For a good while, the bird’s noises were just a single, continuous whistle, with only very few other sounds getting mixed in once they started talking to the leafy mantis. Were these brief pauses, sing-song trills, and barely audible pops supposed to be a part of this language? Were they just how that species naturally sang?

Sue neither knew nor had any way to gain that information at the moment, annoying her further. And, as if to spite her even more, the cloud bird soon noticed their group too.

Having to watch over Joy a few days back let Sue know acutely just how much undue, negative attention the toothy girl received. With that memory still raw in her recollection, she was of half a mind to act obnoxious towards the bird for leering at the harmless child hugging her front—

And then, she realized that the cloud bird wasn’t staring at Joy.

They were staring at her. They were afraid of her.

Her sixth sense wasted no time in pointing these facts out for all they were worth. It felt dreadful, even more so once Sue saw their reaction that followed; the cloud-like wings gently urged gathered tykes towards a spot further away from her. Was it something she’d done?

Or was it being seen with a night kin?

The realization made Sue shift her glare down at the grass in front of her as a sludge of anger and sorrow started churning in her mind.

What’s your fucking problem!? Why are you so scared of bloody Ginger!?

An attempt to distract herself from that unpleasant topic by looking around the clearing some more found nothing more than further fuel for her anxious mind. The pink scorpion bat hadn’t gone anywhere, now chatting with the half-plant, half-insect Splitleaf. Despite this being the mantis’ duty as a caretaker, Sue was still pissed off at her for comforting the bat with Joy being so afraid of them.

And they’d never apologize, because why would they. Joy was a savage freak of nature who should be ostracized, the night kin were savage freaks of nature who should be ostracized, the little one in the bag probably fell into that category, too. Of course, they’d only find suffering and misery in this fucking place—

Joy’s tighter embrace, delivered after her attempts to verbally catch her friend’s attention had failed, finally tackled Sue out of her spiral of anger. Her body shook as her breaths turned shallower and shallower, the sound of blood rushing through her head eclipsing all other noise. She had this entire situation wrong, more likely than not. She’d just misheard, mis-sensed, or misjudged. Sue was well aware of that.

None of those realizations really helped at the moment, that’s for sure.

Especially not with the well-being of so many beings she cared for depending on the whim of the masses.

Even despite her hug snapping Sue out of the worst of her steadily creeping fury, Joy wasn’t done yet. Not while Sue remained so visibly upset about something. With a scramble, a grab, and a pointing of her hand, she communicated the need to Astra in spite of the ever-present language barrier.

And the dragon knew exactly what to do.

Sue wished Astra’s embrace was enough.

In any other situation, the affection would’ve been deeply calming. The awareness that someone was there for her. But not this time. If anything, it only made it worse, considering the chief source of her anger being something Astra had no idea about, and which Sue couldn’t easily tell her about because of the language barrier. It all felt... dull.

Guess it’d be up to her to calm down on her own.

Sue slunk her head as she took deep breaths. The movement of air through her body aired out some of the burning, sticky anger. If she knew anything about that particular emotion, though, it was that it was very easy for it to start intensifying again on a complete whim. She had to continue, keep going until it was all gone.

Much easier said than done.

Though... maybe there was something she could try besides breathing.

Desperately trying to focus on anything but the source of her unpleasant emotions, Sue thought back to how Solstice had taught her how to link to others. The ever-important step of tuning out others’ emotions so as not to get overwhelmed, growing easier and easier to perform with every attempt.

Wonder if it works on me, too.

As easy as it was to use her left arm to push away the surrounding feelings, Sue had a hard time thinking of how she’d do so internally. Suppose she could try to press her hand into herself? Placing it on her chest wasn’t an option for obvious reasons, which left a place further down her torso.

Hand on her stomach, anger on her mind. Deep inhale, and—

Release.

Sue’s eyes shot wide open as she went through her plan, the psychically enhanced exhale getting rid of... everything. The fiery indignation, the underlying sorrow, the immense concern for the amorphous child still sitting on her lap. Nothing remained but a slightly chilly, soothing peace.

She had Calmed her Mind.

With that sudden shift, also came the conscious realization that no less than two friends were in the middle of dispensing affection towards her, both of them very concerned. The mental numbness wouldn’t let Sue fully reciprocate with her own worry. Even so, she patted each friend a few times as her body relaxed.

“I’m okay now, don’t worry.”

As unnaturally flat as her voice now was, it was still undeniably her, and equally undeniably calm.

With one hand navigating to hold Joy close and the other quickly checking up on the still nameless stranger, the scene had returned to how it was before. The toothy tyke was glad, Astra was relieved, and the goopy lil’ one had fallen asleep at some point. Not a whole lot was happening.

A fine opportunity to investigate something odd she’d sensed in the middle of that entire process.

Sue reached down to feel along the side of her torso, her expression entirely flat throughout. One by one, the pointed tip of her finger brushed along her ribs, feeling like they were just a millimeter or two under the skin’s surface. One, two...

...sixteen, seventeen.

Almost all the way down to her hips.

Inspired by that discovery, Sue soon shifted her attention towards the other parts of her body, making the most of her disgust-proof altered mental state. Seven pairs of teeth, three incisors and four molars, filling a noticeably smaller mouth. The rest of her skull felt largely the same, aside from the spikes on the sides of her head.

She already knew that they tingled the same area of her brain that her old human ears used to tingle, and that her actual ears were somewhere around that area. The link between them and actual ears went further still, with the spikes similarly made of cartilage, bending easily and painlessly.

Thinness of her legs raised an interesting question of their internal anatomy. Thinking little of it, Sue proceeded to find out for herself by brushing the pleats of her skin dress aside and bending the limb as much as she could.



Why is there a second bend a few inches off the ground.

Why is it bending the wrong way.

How come I only now noticed it.


Any disgust Sue might’ve had at the revelation was forcibly dulled out by the coolness filling her mind, but good Duck, did it almost push through anyway.

Sue either didn’t remember enough about or really wasn’t about to test most of the rest of her anatomy. There was, of course, the horn-shaped elephant in the room right through her torso that begged to be investigated further. She remembered it being painful to the touch on her first day here, and now was as good of an opportunity as any to check if that still held true.

prod

Yes, it did.

Just like everything else in the moment, her pain was heavily dulled, letting her continue. An attempt to press on it from the side accomplished two things. One, it let Sue know that despite the forced calmness in her mind, the pain could still make her cry, even if the tears would then flow down an entirely flat expression. And two, it soothed her worries about that extremity being in any way brittle.

It was both deeply embedded in her torso, much like its appearance suggested, and very stiff, not giving even slightly under her touch. The more she felt it around, the more it made her think of a bone going straight across her body with something red covering it, its texture reminding Sue of chalk.

Before Sue’s further efforts in bodily exploration could bring even more suffering onto herself, a louder call from further into the clearing caught her attention. Joy was ahead of her this time, running out towards the hissed sound before immediately freezing once she’d spotted something. Fear, disappointment, sadness. It only took moments until she was back beside her friend, wetness in her eyes threatening to match Sue’s.

The once-human wasn’t the only one that noticed, of course.

Astra’s loud question had the metal girl sigh as she tried laying down on Sue’s lap, front head facing away from the other kids. As opposed to Sue’s mental freeze-induced idleness, though, the dragon would do something about the messy situation.

What exactly beyond getting up and walking over, Sue had no idea. At the very least, though, she was left with a better view of the scene afterwards.

She might’ve struggled to recall their names, but the once-human distinctively remembered seeing both the green-cream snake and the floating white puffball with an attached head around the farm area. It definitely made sense, with the former carrying a small pile of green, spiky fruits in their tiny arms and long, leafy vines. They were handing out the treats to anyone that came, and that indeed included the pink bat whose sight had shot down Joy’s hopes of grabbing a snack.

Right as they were about to hand the last fruit out, though, Astra’s low voice caught their attention. The reptile conversation thankfully didn’t last too long, its gist swiftly transferred. Both to the partially-plant snake, sending them slithering straight towards Sue with a green treat in their arms, and to the more-than-partially-asshole bat, making them reel in place and huddle away from the once-human’s group.

Works for me.

Sue didn’t expect a snake to be this emotive.

Instead of stirring Joy out of her attempted grumpy nap, they joined her, resting their head on Sue’s leg right beside the toothy girl, to the Forest Guardian’s mixed reaction. Or at least, if it wasn’t being muted out.

Further committing to cheering Joy up, the snake pretended to pull the fruit out of thin air, smiling wider at Joy’s harsh but genuine giggle. They then used a pair of vines to toss and juggle the treat to the tyke’s amusement, her laughter growing louder each time the newcomer threw their gift even further into the air.

And then, right as they were about to launch it all the way up above the treetops, they sneakily moved it into Joy’s arms.

And gave her front head a couple of pats while at it.

Joy’s response remained untranslated, and it was clear enough that not even the snake was entirely confident about what they’d just heard. Thinking back, though, it sounded awfully similar to something else Sue had heard her say a few days back at the feast.

‘Thank you.’

Both she and the grass snake got it at around the same moment, the latter squeaking in elation at the realization. Their hug might’ve been very brief, but it did wonders in cheering the metal girl up the rest of the way, enough so for her to be eagerly waving them away once they’d rejoined the other kids. Sue’s response was appropriately subdued, but that didn’t make it any less appreciated.

Someone really enjoys having her maw pet.

Having intervened to help out the little one under her watch, Astra soon returned to her previous spot, just out of the recently installed swing's trajectory. A light aftershock went through most of the clearing after she’d sat down- or rather collapsed- in her spot, but barely anyone was perturbed by it.

Except for the light green spider now on Astra’s lap, looking around in confusion.

Despite the self-imposed mental restraints, Sue felt her mind shudder at the sight. A glance upwards revealed the string they had been hanging from just a few feet away from her. Figures they’d be confused about why they were on the ground all of a sudden.

Meanwhile, Joy was undertaking her own grand quest. One of opening this fruit she’d been given, and getting to the oh-so-sweet insides. As hard as she’d tried, she couldn’t quite pry it open with just her hands, making her grumble quietly. Of course, she had a much more effective tool for prying stuff open, but having someone hold it for her would be a lot of help.

tap tap

The sensation snapped Sue away from taking in every detail of the smiley faced spider. Instead, she saw Joy not just handing, but outright shoving the treat she’d been given into her hand, the large spikes poking her slightly. And once she’d grabbed the berry, the little one got to the next step of her plan right away.

c-crack!

In what felt like a split second, Joy went from having her friend hold the green treat to biting down on it with the very side of her maw.

The firm, green shell stood absolutely no chance against the metal teeth, the smallest bit of force almost snapping the fruit in half entirely. Glad as the toothy tyke was that her idea worked out, she knew that nobody would want to eat something that’s been in her back mouth. As swiftly as she’d clamped it down on the fruit, she turned her body towards the punctured fruit while moving her maw away, some fresh juice dripping from one of her fangs.

It was only when Joy grabbed the fruit from her friend’s hand and started prying it apart, did Sue’s brain unstuck itself following the way-too-fast sequence of events.

The Forest Guardian might’ve been incapable of feeling much at the moment, but goodness did all this in such a quick succession push her limits-

hissss-click-click

Fear pounded away at Sue’s quickly faltering mental block as she turned to face the source of the sound. Her heart only barely avoided leaping out of her chest at seeing the red spider that had almost taken her life, with her conscious mind having to hurriedly remind her crumbling composure that she’d met him before, with Solstice’s aid no less. He was even wearing the same hat as on that day, thinking back to the calmness of their chat helping Sue a lot.

Unfortunately, it did little considering the lack of a translation, but little was more than nothing.

As Sue felt emotions return to her body, one drop of fear at a time, both Dewdrop and what was presumably his offspring waved towards her from beside Astra’s spot. Her arms shook as she returned the gesture, and her smile was only barely recognizable between the mental muzzle on her mind and the already present anxiety.

Before Sue’s decidedly off expression could draw too much attention, though, Joy chimed in with snacks for everyone.

As annoying as her short size was in forcing her to constantly run around Sue, the toothy one didn’t let it get to her. One by one, she handed the pieces of the green fruit she’d helped crack to everyone gathered. Her two guardians, Dewdrop, their offspring, herself- heck, even the sleeping one got a piece left for them. It had to have been eaten shortly afterwards because of the juices staining the already dirty canvas, but it was the intent that mattered.

And Joy’s intent was immaculate.

Sue barely had the words for the creamy yellow flesh she bit into. ‘Sweet’ didn’t cut it, ‘saccharine’ came short. Each little nibble cloyed her mouth with some of the most distilled sugariness she’d ever had. Not even actual candy was this sweet, and this thing had apparently grown on a plant!

Now the question is: Is this fruit actually good for you, or does sweet equal sinfully unhealthy for you in this world too?

Yet another intense sensation joining in on the mix eroded whatever remained of her forced calmness. Bliss on her tongue, spooks around her, disappointment at herself for still being afraid of Dewdrop despite having literally talked with him just a couple of days ago.

Concern for the amorphous little one, still asleep.

Suppose this was the best time for them to get a move on and start asking people around. Or get actual food for them that wasn’t the sensation of ‘sweet’ manifested into a plant.

...

Can they even eat solid food?

...

How do they even eat?

The questions had no answers. Just airing them out to herself was enough to let Sue free some more of her brain space towards more productive topics, thankfully. She might not have known almost anything about the little one, but someone in the village would, that much Sue was certain of. Just had to get up, much easier now that the spider family had taken their leave, and head out of the playground-

Oh piss off.

Sue’s stone-like expression cracked into one of distrust and slight animosity upon seeing the pink bat approach them. Her hand reached to hold Joy closer. The gesture inadvertently caught the lil’ one’s attention and made her spot the flying scorpion. A frightful squeak, a tight embrace.

Everything Sue had worried would happen, was.

As the Forest Guardian kept petting the top of her little friend’s maw, the two beings trailing behind the bat kept encouraging them. Sue wasn’t entirely trustful of Splitleaf, considering she saw her dispense affection towards the lil’ pink shit only recently, but the same couldn’t be said for the incredibly pleasant grassy serpent. Each time the pink bat faltered or slowed down, one of the two would encourage them to keep going. All the way until the three were at Sue’s feet, Joy now hiding away from the bat’s gaze.

Despite their best attempts to push on, the scorpion couldn’t deny the mix of Joy’s obvious distress and the Forest Guardian’s scowl being... demoralizing, to put it lightly. They wanted to fly out of there, wanted to be literally anywhere but here, they had no idea how they’d accomplish what they were here for with Joy’s fear and her friend’s hostility.

They didn’t know, but Splitleaf had a hunch.

Sue’s eyebrow lifted from its stern position as the leafy mantis turned to chat to Astra, of all people. Whatever the topic was, it made the dragon look between the approaching group, Sue, and Joy, earlier confusion steadily thawing. She couldn’t translate, and with Sue’s uncertain appearance, she doubted if the handicapped Forest Guardian could either.

All of which left a... more direct approach.

The dragon’s reassurance got the tyke to start unwinding from the creeping fear, eyes opening wider. Little by little, whichever words of encouragement that Joy understood did their magic.

Sue could acutely tell that even despite Astra’s best efforts, the effect wasn’t all that massive, and Joy was still afraid. Frankly, all she wanted was to tell that bat to fuck off in no uncertain terms.

Which was clear enough for Astra to know she’d have to intervene that way, too.

As soft as the dragon was, her casually lifting Sue’s arm holding Joy close was a grave reminder of her strength. Her grasp was downright dainty, and yet, Sue couldn’t get it to budge in the slightest no matter how hard she’d tried.

And so, Joy was left to let go of her friend and face her fear.

Her fear, on the other hand... reached a single pincer toward her.

Yet another attempt on Sue’s end once more had Astra’s grip not even budge. Again.

The scene remained at an impasse for a solid while as the pink bat chittered something out. Their words were unsure, even slightly fearful, but, to the best of Sue’s ability to tell, genuine. By her third attempt at wrangling her arm out of Astra’s grasp, the realization of what was going on finally clicked into place. It sent her train of ever-angrier thought careening into the distance as her body unwound, her softening gaze glancing down at Joy.

I wonder if she’s even aware that this is an apology.

Almost as if by magic, the moment Sue stopped straining, the dragon let her arm go. Instead of keeping the toothy tyke away from her earlier harasser, Sue did her best to comfort her, her freed limb petting along the girl’s head and maw alike.

Including over the by now barely visible scratch.

No matter how much Sue encouraged her, though, Joy remained rooted in place, her gaze glued to the floor. The once-human couldn’t accept her apology for her, of course, but what she could do was help with translation. Or at least, she could’ve if she didn’t feel so drained following her accidental self-calming. Despite her attempts to focus and wrangle her aura into shape, it either slipped from her grasp or proved too painful on her injury to keep going.

Sue kept her reactions down to not alert the others, but the atmosphere as a whole only kept growing darker.

Splitleaf, in particular, grew somber over all of this, hanging her head low. It took so long just to make the bat get over their fears and shame enough to apologize, and now Joy was too scared, too confused, or both. In a way, it was a lesson in its own right, one of not all apologies getting accepted.

‘I’m sorry’ is no magic, after all.

Before the leafy mantis could turn that insight into a well-defined lesson in her head, the other side finally made a step forward. And another, and then a third. Joy was still too skittish to look directly up at the bat, but with Sue’s reassurance, she kept inching closer.

Grabbing the Forest Guardian’s petting hand by one finger and holding it pressed against her body did wonders for the metal girl’s psyche, too.

Nobody else dared move as Joy made it through the last couple of paces. Her hand reached around blindly as she kept looking away, eventually brushing past the pink pincer and grabbing it as firmly as she could. Not much happened for the next few moments, both parties waiting for the other to do something while Sue contorted herself to let the lil’ one keep holding her hand.

It was up to Splitleaf to intervene.

Again.

With a mostly unseen eye roll, she approached the most awkward instance of hand holding in history and shook the two kids’ hands. The motion made Joy’s gaze finally snap over, her eyes locking with the bat. Stressful as it was for both of them, they knew they shouldn’t be looking away if they wanted an apology to truly happen.

And even despite her limited grasp of a situation, Joy did want that.

She didn’t want people to be mean to her, but neither did she want them to be scared of her. Or for her to be scared of anyone else. As long as she knew she wouldn’t be mistreated again...

Subdued as most of the apology was, though, Astra’s loud cheer brought some more life into the scene. Both the leafy snake and Splitleaf broke into a quiet chuckle as Joy let go, and the two withdrew their hands. And then, shortly after, the toothy tyke released her grip of Sue’s hand, letting her properly move again.

Move, and pull the brave girl into the tightest hug she could manage, pride dripping from her every gesture.

She did it; Joy managed it on her own, without even needing a translation. It was such an immense progress from the first time they met, Sue could hardly believe it. A wide, dumb grin refused to wash from the once-human’s face as she held the lil’ one in her arms, rocking her side to side while Joy tried her absolute hardest to return even a slice of that hug.

“I’m so proud of you...”

This was more than just being happy, so much more. Sue’s heart was clear enough about that. She wasn’t just glad, but intensely proud of Joy. Ecstatic at her reassurance and presence helping Joy overcome her fears. It felt right, so incredibly right. She wanted to be here by Joy’s side as she grew, through thick and thin. Be her guardian, be her support, be someone she can trust and rely on no matter what, forever-

...

...

Forever.

The cursed quagmire of contradictions and despair that surrounded the subject of her return to Earth stopped Sue’s euphoria instantly. The shift from a tight, firm embrace to Sue’s entire body growing stiff was clear enough for Joy to sense too, a confused squeak only driving the unpleasant feelings further under her skin.

Why is this so FUCKING HARD!?

Sue gently lowered Joy down onto the grass before the tempest of emotions under her head could grow any further. As comforting as Joy’s presence was for her and vice versa, Sue knew she needed to get out of here.

Now.

“I-I’m sorry, Joy. Just... n-need to get some fresh air. Take care Joy, t-take care Astra...”

The Forest Guardian could feel their shared concern as she picked herself off the ground with the dragon’s help. She had no idea how to soothe it, for them and herself alike. Especially not now.

All she could think of was getting away.

And that’s what she did soon after, one hand carefully holding the bundle with the stranger inside it as the other shakily waved at the pair.

She didn’t even have it in her to look back at them as she departed the clearing. Before she could even take a step out of it, though, a well familiar sound caught her attention.

One she knew would only bring her comfort.

“H-hey, Spark.”

Psychic or not yet one, the fiery kit recognized the gloom in her friend’s voice all the same. Her expression grew uncertain while Sue was incapable of responding beyond just shaking her head.

“It’s fine.”

It’s not.

Right as she was about to leave for real, with or without Spark following her, another familiar sight brought a modicum of reassurance. She’d only seen this butterfly a few times and one was while she was panicking at everything and everyone, but seeing someone she recognized still made her feel better.

Doubly so, with the brown caterpillar in their arms immediately wiggling at seeing her. Their parent noticed, turning towards them and giving them a wave of their tiny hands and a couple exaggerated flaps of their almost pure white wings. Sue’s brain jump started itself just in time to connect the purple-bodied insect to a name Basil had told her a couple days back, Birch, before the insect in question flew off straight into the treelike after dropping his child off.

Guess whatever he does, it’s way outside of Moonview. Figures that’s how I ran into him.

Warm nudge on her leg, and then another. Spark was right.

It was time to go.


Finding someone who could feasibly know something about the little one inside the bag turned out... difficult. Sue’s mental list wasn’t particularly long: Willow, Solstice, maybe the living bouquet, Orchid, too. Willow wasn’t at their clinic, she’d rather bite on a brick than try talking to the plant-like medic after her outburst at Northeast earlier, and Solstice...

Yeah, no.

Left with nothing for answers, Sue decided to play it safe. Whatever this little one was, they ate something. Probably. No teeth, or other defined body parts for that matter, so they most likely can’t eat solid food.

It was time for soup.

Regardless of how little Sue herself cared for it most of the time.

With no idea of which cook around the clearing specialized in which meals, Sue was only left with the fallback option of Poppy and Hazel’s stall. She really, really didn’t care for seeing the latter again, and hoped to ducking Duck she’d at least leave her alone this time. And if not...

...

She’d probably just get angry again or something. What else was she to do.

Thankfully, the first impression of Hazel had the ghost not wanting to interact with her any more than the other way around. The spooky prankster let out a long groan before withdrawing further into the kitchen, leaving the actual fairy cook to handle orders this time. A part of Sue worried about Poppy being just as hostile towards her, but fortunately her reactions didn’t extend beyond a mild unease at the whole messy situation.

Sue sure wasn’t feeling like miming a meal right now, which left linking up. Her horn didn’t like the idea, but was outvoted 1-0. Focus her mind, tune out emotions, reach out with her aura, aaaaaaand linked.

Just need to insert dial-up noises somewhere in there.

Doing the entire routine with one hand occupied by a bundle of snoozing something made it all feel even more awkward than usual, that’s for sure.

“...you good?”

Right, gotta talk.

“Yes, yes, I’m good. I wanted to grab some soup for... them.”

Sue accentuated her request with pointing directly at the sleeping bundle. Poppy had no idea what she was even looking at, leaning over the counter and squinting at the... small bag.

“Hon, is bag.”

“No, it’s not a bag. There’s something, someone inside it. They’re there, you can feel it, just don’t try looking at them.”

The once-human was uncertain about handing over the bag for the fairy to inspect in person, but if it would stop any more stupid questions, it was worth it. Probably. She really hoped so.

With more hesitation than she would admit to, Sue carefully placed the grapefruit-sized bundle on the pantry’s counter. Poppy might’ve initially thought that the Forest Guardian had gone bonkers, but it didn’t take long for her to realize that Sue was telling the truth. Warm, amorphous, and judging by the bag’s condition, not wet.

“Darn. They soup?”

Sue was deeply uncertain about how to interpret the question. She opted to answer both interpretations, covering her bases at the cost of making her look even dumber than she already was.

“They’re not soup, and I don’t know if they eat soup. I figure that if they eat anything, it’s soup or juice, but I’m not sure—”

Hazel’s gruff comment cut Sue off before she could finish making a dumbass of herself, catching everyone but her by surprise. After a couple of stunned moments, Spark woofed a question out loud, and then another, with Hazel answering both of them with an unusual seriousness and intent. Even without an impossibly large smile, the ghost’s expression was still incredibly attention catching with her humongous red eyes.

At least it wasn’t focused on her this time.

With Spark having asked her questions, Poppy followed soon after, letting Sue get a glimpse into what was even going-

“How ghost? Warm. Is.”

...hold on, what?

Hazel’s answer was slightly more elaborate this time as she pointed at the bag and then at herself. Despite her best efforts, neither Spark nor Poppy were entirely convinced.

“Can pass walls? Bag?”

Short, gruff response, the associated emotions the equivalent of a dismissive shrug. A longer, much firmer comment followed soon after, one that had the ghost stare up at Sue directly. Unnerving as the sight was, though, Sue could tell that it wasn’t accompanied by hostility or even mischief, not this time.

Instead, curiosity and… hope.

“Okay, okay. Hazel say bag ghost. No eat.”

Sue blinked dumbfounded, trying to make sense the translated words as she picked the bundle of lil’ one up again.

“B-but they’re warm, and they’re filling it up, and—”

“Hazel say important not. Ghost.”

Suppose if there was any being who’d know for sure it’d be a fellow ghost, but... it was still so hard to comprehend. How could this of all beings be a ghost? Was their ghost-ness related to their brain melting curse when looked at? How did Hazel know with certainty? Why did they feel so young-

whiiiiiiiiIIIISTLE!

The loud sound was followed by the sensation of an even louder aura approaching fast, soothing in its familiarity. Before Sue could even finish turning around, she was scooped into the air and held firmly by Lilly’s leafy arms as the plant girl’s mischief bloomed into glee. She took a moment to finish reeling after the sudden emotion before embracing all she could reach with her free arm, the dancer’s jubilant whistle in response warming Sue’s heart even more.

“I-I’m so happy to see you too, Lilly!”

Lilly’s realization that Sue couldn’t understand her clicked audibly into place, making her look around in search of anyone who could help. Or at least, that’s what Sue assumed, interrupting Lilly with a couple pats to catch her attention before shaking her head. Before doing anything else, though, thanks were in order-

“Th-thank you for your help, Poppy!”

...

“And pass my thanks to Hazel, too...”

With the last of the thanks being passed out, Sue could disconnect from Poppy and link up with Lilly, the dancer finding her friend’s psychic antics ticklish. One, two, push past the growing pain, and let’s talk.

“H-hey Lilly.”

“Sue! Happy you have. Much, much. Yesterday... scary. Scary, scary...”

‘Scary’ was one good word to describe the entire mess that had transpired yesterday. Awful as it had been, though, it was in the past, and the past was the last thing Sue wanted to think about. Not when Lilly was in the middle of carrying her around.

Doubly so, once the admission began to melt through the dancer’s joy, revealing everything that lurked under the surface. Anxiety about what had happened during the chaotic mess of yesterday, stress from work, and especially Root. Loathing about not having been able to intervene when she’d spotted Sue next to the Pale Lady’s shrine.

Self-consciousness about just being a dumb, stilted farmhand.

“It was, yeah. Could we take a seat there?”

Lilly got to walking right away, simultaneously too sad and too concerned about possibly injuring Sue to bound towards the bench like she’d usually do. The former point kept growing ever larger, Lilly’s impeccable poise waning with her every step.

The very instant Sue’s backside had touched that bench, she pulled her crush friend into the tightest hug she could manage. Her unexpected outburst of attention ended up briefly stunning Lilly. The plant girl’s counterattack came soon after, in all its borderline-rib-crushing glory.

Sue wouldn’t want it any other way.

“I’m here Lilly, I’m here. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be alright.”

Regardless of how little Sue believed in that last point, she sure wanted Lilly to believe in it.

“Thank, thank, sniff. Not know what happen. Very stupid.”

Sue could tell the last couple of words were about herself. All it did was redouble her efforts, the little one still in her hand, while mumbling out an involuntary ‘no!’.

“You’re not stupid, Lilly! You’re wonderful. I-I genuinely love spending time with you.”

The plant girl trembled at the outpouring of reassurance, doubly so when it was further enhanced by Spark nuzzling her from her other side.

“True?”

“Yes, really! You’re charming, and kind, and funny! Why would I be lying?”

Framing the question like that made Lilly flinch, and her friend tried harder still. Still, the dancer wanted to be truthful. Her body language shrunk and trembled as she spoke up, eyes closing in embarrassment.

“Because stupid. Farmhand. Confused yesterday. Know much not. Just farmhand. Talk bad.”

The framing of her helping at the farms as a negative thing made Sue think back to yesterday, to how Root had spoken of Lilly right before Sue left Moonview-

...

And considering just how that very priest had treated her later that day, there was a definite link between the two. In most other circumstances, it would’ve been enough to get Sue incensed all over again, but her own anger didn’t matter right now. Lilly came first, and she needed all the reassurance Sue had in her.

“You’re not stupid, Lilly, I really mean it. Yesterday was a mess for everyone, I saw a lot of it and I’m still confused just what had happened. You help feed everyone here. That’s a wonderful thing to be doing. You talk differently than most, sure, but that’s not a bad thing. I... I really like you like this. You’re amazing like this. I want to be here for you like this.”

Before the plant girl could do anything else, Sue shifted her hug until Lilly’s head rested on her chest, right beside her horn. The Forest Guardian felt everything inside the dancer’s mind in vivid clarity. Her doubts, her fears, the ever-raw insecurities, all of them soothed by the moment. Despair giving way to uncertainty, and then, bit by bit, to her usual confidence.

As she opened her eyes, Lilly saw the impact yesterday had left on her crush friend from very close up. In an instant, she shelved her loathing for later, replacing it with nothing but concern for Sue.

“Sue, happen what!? Hurt you! And, what bag!?”

By its own, the bag in the Forest Guardian’s hand would’ve been scarcely interesting. The several small, black tentacles reaching out from it made it go from mundane to alarming in an instant. Lilly had almost swatted the possible threat away before Sue undid her hug and brought the bundle in front of herself, immediately speaking up afterwards—

“I’ll tell you what happened in a moment, Lilly. This... bag, there’s someone inside it. A little ghost, I think.”

Spark’s woofs had confusion and worry dripping from them at the sight, but Sue continued.

“I don’t know who, or even what, they are. I know they look scary, but they’re just alone, scared, and very little. Whoever they are, whatever they are...”

The three watched a black tentacle slowly wrap itself around Sue’s wrist, shaking as it clung to their guardian.

“They need me. I want to be here for them.”

To say Lilly was taken aback was an understatement of the century. The bag, the creature within it, their weird appearance. She had no idea what was up with them either. Not knowing yet another important thing further aggravated her insecurity. Whatever was happening, though, Sue was convinced. Sue wanted to help them.

And Lilly...

With a shaky motion, the leafy dancer reached her hand over towards the bundle, pressing its flat side into it and feeling the warmth radiating from the inside.

...wanted to be here for Sue.

“Want help. Know how not. But want.”

A couple of stray tears forced their way past Sue’s eyelids as she slid as close to Lilly as possible, the dancer’s free hand holding her close. They watched as the little one wrapped their tentacle around Lilly’s arm, the palpable warmth making her lean in closer.

“Thank you s-so much, Lilly. We’ll figure it out, I-I’m sure of it. As to what had happened...”

Sue shuddered, going over the events in her mind as she lowered her ghost-holding hand down onto her lap, letting Spark take a couple sniffs of the stranger.

“Let’s start from the beginning...”



If you're confused about the species of the characters and want them spoiled, I've set up a page listing the species of all the featured characters in each chapter!

If you want to discuss the story, I've set up a Discord server for it! (and my other writings)

Also check out my other main fic, From the Vast!
 
Chapter 23: Namesake


Chapter 23: Namesake



By the time Sue was done with her retelling, her strained breathing was the only sound filling their nook of the clearing.

She wasn’t exactly sure when Spark had left, only that she did at some point. The once-human couldn’t blame her. There’s only so much tending to a soggy mess of a friend anyone can handle before they just want to retreat to something more reassuring.

Lilly only grew more concerned for her with every sentence, culminating with holding the Forest Guardian tight to her front, as if afraid she would fly off and get herself gravely hurt again. The actual events she had described were... harrowing, scary, unnerving. All of those and more, the central gloomy injustice at the center of it all, the denial of positive change at the hands of a single maddened owl visible to her, too.

By the end of Sue’s retelling, though, the abstract political situation between Moonview and Newmoon had taken a back seat to something else in Lilly’s mind.

Sue might’ve already gone over all this more times within the past few hours than anyone ought to in their lifetime, but if anything, it only made her react harder to her own recollection. Both at the obviously distressing parts, the near-death, but also at what happened afterwards. The tears that gathered in her eyes when she mentioned trying to sleep last night. Her angry outburst earlier in the day.

So far from the Sue the leafy dancer knew, the impact of the stress over the past few days made abundantly clear.

It led Lilly to try asking about it. And then again, a few sentences later. About how it all impacted Sue, about whether she’s holding alright, whether she needed more help.

Each time, nervous shaking, visible fight against her own body to not cry any more. A thick silence that simultaneously concealed and revealed so much.

And then, soon after, a polite denial.

Because what can I even say here?

Sue wasn’t coping with her inability to explain what was wrong any better than Lilly was. She wanted to let it out, to release her tension. About her, about everyone else here, about this world and her tattered mental state whenever she tried thinking any of this through.

But she couldn’t.

Lilly didn’t deserve to deal with this weight.

The weight of her friend’s struggles, the nigh indescribable pressure of knowing that Sue’s stay here might be temporary. Of course, that concern had more selfish undertones, ones which Sue was well aware of and didn’t hesitate to kick herself over.

Despite how much she might’ve loathed herself for it... Sue wanted this. To be held, to be comforted, to have someone she could confide in. Someone who adored her, someone she adored. And if being truthful with them carried a serious risk of them just running away because they obviously wouldn’t want to stick with an extradimensional alien that might disappear on the spot...

I’m being so fucking scummy.

The thought stirred more tears inside Sue as they both sat in silence, Lilly’s hug immediately tightening. It was the one realization she couldn’t even try to fight or paint as mere self-loathing. It was true, and Sue hated it, she hated herself for it, and she deserved all this suffering for being willing to lie like that-

“Sue?”

sniffle

Strained breaths were Sue’s only answer as her body fruitlessly tried to calm down. Regardless of whether it was deserved or not, Lilly’s concern was there and downright palpable to the Forest Guardian, accompanied by her warm, soothing care. A tangible desire for Sue to feel better, expressed with a restrained embrace and careful stroking of her shoulder.

“I’m... I’m here, Lilly. I’m sorry, it’s—”

“You talk want anything?”

So many things. All of them utterly, hopelessly terrifying.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry, Lilly.”

And it was this concern, this care, this desire that Sue needed to run away from, somehow. To keep the rot inside her hidden. Another distraction was in order, and the clingy kiddo on her lap would provide just that.

“I think they’re curious about you.”

Two of their black tentacles were still firmly wrapped around Sue, with a third slowly reaching in Lilly’s general direction. The once-human was glad they had largely just calmed down as they all sat here, calmed down and clung to her.

“Can lift look?”

“Sure, just not inside the bag. Heh...”

It was the most mirthless chuckle of Sue’s life, and despite knowing her for only a few days now, Lilly could tell. One more concerned look at the Forest Guardian later, the leafy girl carefully cupped her arm underneath the bundle and lifted it up before her, inspecting it from all around. The ghost inside the bag was less than enthused about that, though, fearfully shuddering the moment they left Sue’s lap.

Before Lilly even noticed, Sue was already reaching over to carefully cup the bundle’s side. Her touch had an immediate impact, the little one relaxing as they wrapped a tentacle around her hand again.

“Sorry, they got scared there.”

“No sorry! Glad help you.”

The dancer’s whistled voice was unusually focused for her, eyes narrowing as she inspected a part of the sack. Sue was of half a mind to try craning her head and see what her friend was looking at by the time Lilly finally spoke up, her words... confusing.

“Sue, say in bag bad?”

The once-human’s attempt to parse the sentence failed, leaving her blinking a couple of times before going with the best hunch she could put together.

“Yes, looking in the bag is bad for you. Why do you ask, Lilly?”

Lilly’s answer was wordless, but no less surprising because of that. She rotated the bag in her grasp as she moved it closer to Sue, the subject of the leafy dancer’s earlier focus now clearly visible to the Forest Guardian as well.

There was a small hole in the bag's side, and a pair of pinprick eyes were looking out of it.

Sue gasped at seeing it, trying to maintain enough concentration to look away in case the sight would end up affecting her again, but... it didn’t. She stared at the small patch of the void, and it stared back, and all she felt was a slightly unnerving sensation in the back of her mind. Still conscious, still present.

Staring at the hidden ghost’s... eyes?

“I... I think that’s their eyes. They’re looking at us.”

“Think you?”

It was a hunch for which Sue didn’t have any real evidence... yet. Her head perked up as she came up with a way to test the idea, lifting her hand in front of the small tear and moving it around from side to side.

And the pair of twinkles followed with her movements.

“Yeah, see? They’re looking at my hand.”

It was all the proof Lilly needed. Pushing through her earlier worries, she turned the opening to face her as she put on her most welcoming expression and tone of voice.

“Hiiii! Hello little. Here Moonview, Lilly I.”

“I don’t think they can underst—”

“This Sue! She you find.”

Before the once-human could even finish airing her concerns, Lilly had already put her on the spot, giggling at her stupefied expression.

“Sue, welcome say!”

Right, right, gotta greet them, uhhh—

“H-hello there. I-I hope you’re alright.”

Sue’s smile was so shaky a stray gust of wind could’ve easily blown it away, but it thankfully held through her greeting. Her hand didn’t fare any better as she waved timidly, a part of her worrying about potentially overwhelming them. The concern made her awkwardly stop mid motion; the resulting flinch reverberated through her body as she withdrew her arm-

Only to see another tentacle emerge from the incomprehensible bag, and clumsily wave in return.

“Sue, they waved you! Awwwwww!”

Lilly was as elated and swooning at the scene as Sue was surprised. She needed a moment to come through before a much more confident smile started creeping on her expression. The reassurance made her try waving again, and once again, the gesture was returned.

Seems they understand that much.

“Yeah, they- they did. Wish I could speak with you and them at the same time.”

“Can not you?”

“No, not right now. I’m... still learning all this.”

“Should ask Solstice you! Help she sure!”

“^That’s not a bad idea at all.^”

The tired, weary voice made both women jump and look up at its source. As much as Sue had been dreading for her, Solstice looked... fine. She felt down, her expression was visibly weary, and Comet was clinging to her so hard in her arms that he hadn’t even reacted to Sue showing up, but... the once-human expected to see worse, deep down.

“Hi hi Solstice! Talk with Sue I—”

Lilly’s glance at the sky had her gasp in shock; the three psychics around her left startled until she elaborated-

“So late! Need back harvest! Sorry sorry Solstice—”

“^Don’t worry Lilly, it’s okay. Especially since it seems like you’ve had a good reason to be here, heh...^”

Solstice’s chuckle was accompanied by the world’s weakest smile as she reassured the leafy farmhand. Lilly certainly appreciated the leniency, and a large part of her wanted to push the envelope even further and stay here until Sue got better, but...

She knew it wasn’t up to her, and she’d rather not fall afoul of Root even more than she already had. Especially not with him as furious as he’d gotten yesterday.

“Sue, need go I. Hope hope good you soon!”

Before the once-human even responded to the well wishes, Lilly’s tight squeeze lifted her from her seat and shook her around for good measure. It hurt a bit, but... goodness, did she need all the physical comfort in the world right now.

“I hope so too. I-I really appreciate you being here. Thanks Lilly, t-take care—”

smooch!

With her one last gesture of affection tingling her cheek, Sue watched Lilly dash toward the farms, occasionally turning around mid jump just to sneak in a couple more waves; the once-human stunned throughout.

That feels nice. Not deserved, but... nice.

“^Why wouldn’t it be deserved?^”

Oh.

As much as Lilly’s antics had warmed her up somewhat, Sue didn’t want to burden Solstice with her mental muck, especially not right now. Maybe down the line once the dust has settled, and they both got a breather to just process everything they’ve been through, but not now. Now, Sue wanted the comfort to flow in the other direction, looking up at the Mayor as she patted the seat Lilly had just gotten up from.

“It’s... a lot. It’s probably best if I tell you some other time.”

Thankfully, Solstice didn’t oppose that misdirection, even if she clearly saw it for what it was. Regardless of how dissatisfied she might’ve been with that fact, she really didn’t have it in her to be someone else’s emotional support right now. Certainly not to the extent she sensed Sue would need one. Sundance would’ve been able to listen, but... she couldn’t, not now.

Still, a chat wouldn’t hurt.

“^Alright. Are you... alright overall, Sue?^”

“I’m... fine. What... what happens now? With the night kin and all...”

The Mayor’s flinch was palpable as she sat down beside her student, making Sue regret asking. Solstice couldn’t hold Sue’s curiosity against her. If there was anyone in the whole Moonview who really deserved to know it was her, but...

Like Sue already knew, explaining the same distressing thing to the umpteenth person can grind one down to dust.

“^There’ll be a meeting of the Elders’ Council later today to discuss just that. That’s all I can really say right now.^”

The once-human nodded weakly in response, the explanation making her even more worried than before.

“Do you think they’ll be alright?”

Solstice didn’t answer right away, torn between wanting to remain truthful, and not wanting to distress Sue even further.

“^We’ll see.^”

The biggest non-answer that had ever non-answered, and they were both well aware. Not much either of them could do about it, though.

For a while, the two Forest Guardians just sat in silence beside one another, each with a clingy child of their own. As eerie as an almost entirely quiet Comet was, the nameless one on Sue’s lap still had him beat in that regard, mostly because of his appearance. Solstice knew better than to freak out at seeing a black, warbling tentacle reach out from inside the canvas bag on her pupil’s lap, but she couldn’t deny being confused all the same.

As good of a change of topic as any.

“^So... seems you’ve run into someone, eh Sue?^”

Sue’s chuckle was so weak it was basically inaudible.

“Yeah, I suppose. It’s more like they ran into me. They...”

The once-human bit her tongue for a moment, uncertain of how Solstice would respond to the lil’ ghost having attempted to impersonate Comet. As non-convincing as their disguise was, it didn’t really negate them having tried in the first place.

Here goes nothing...

“They disguised themselves as Comet, after seeing me carrying him a few days ago. I ran into them at the playground, their costume broke, and then I stayed with them to see if they were alright. Hazel said something about them being a ghost, and their body, or at least the bulk of it, does... something weird to you if you look at it. It’s like you can’t think at all. I’ve no idea what they are, but... they’re not hostile, or harmful when they’re covered up like this.”

As Sue went on, Solstice cautiously lowered her hand to let them grasp it, seeing for herself just how warm their touch was.

Just like that of a living being.

“^I see. I'm not sure what could they be, but from what you’ve described they must be very lonely—^”

The older Forest Guardian’s stunned realization made Sue flinch. Her heart rate jumped as she awaited Solstice’s words, hoping that it wouldn’t involve any more misfortune coming the lil’ one’s way-

“^Actually, I think I remember Sundance describing something like them one time.^”

Sue’s focus was now squarely on her mentor, the change in mood sufficient to shake Comet out of his focus, too. He still wasn’t quite as lively as she’d seen him be a few days ago, but a shaky wave and a handful of squeaky toddler noises definitely beat depressed silence, stirring a weak smile on Sue’s face. Which only made the tyke livelier in turn, and so on as his mom spoke.

“^Yeah, she did. From what I can recall, they... by the Pale Lady, they are supposedly ghosts of unhatched eggs. Never had an actual body to be their own before death, and are cursed to remain formless and longing afterwards. She also mentioned something about the usual practice for dealing with them being to... banish them, so that they can finally move on.^”

By the time the Mayor was done, the once-human could hardly breathe.

Every single word of that hurt, the hand cupping them having since been promoted to keeping them pressed against her front. Just so that they knew she wouldn’t leave them, even through the harrowing revelation at the end. It felt wrong; it felt vile; the mere thought made Sue want to scream at the injustice. None of that was lost on the Mayor, especially not as the tiny black tentacle kept holding her hand.

None of that was necessarily true, either.

“^Again, that’s just what I can recall from Sundance’s words. She’d be the first one to go on about her recollection of the events not always being the best either, heh. Could be that all that was wrong, but even if it’s right...^”

She moved her tentatively held hand to rest on top of the bundle, right beside her pupil’s grasp.

“^That doesn’t mean we’d need to follow those instructions. Especially with them being at peace with you. Ghost of an egg or not, if they’re happy here, then that’s all that matters.^”

Solstice doubled down on her reassurance by wrapping her arm around Sue, pulling her in that bit closer. They might’ve both felt foul to a lesser or greater extent, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t comfort one another.

It wasn’t much, but was still so much more than an idle, suffocating silence.

As quickly as Sue had grown unnerved at her mentor’s tale, the clarification provided an equally swift relief. Especially regarding its core thrust, the part she was concerned about the most, the one that wouldn’t have let her sleep had it been true.

I’m not hurting them. I’m not hurting them. At least I’m not hurting them.

“^No, no you’re not. You’re doing a good thing Sue, I promise.^”

It took the once-human the utmost effort to keep her tears from spilling out all over her cheeks in response. Such a simple sentence, such an immense relief.

“Th-thank you.”

Especially after the struggles and horrors of the past few days.

For a while, Sue just sat in silence as she was being tended to. Each of Solstice’s many pets were forwarded to the lil’ hauntling. The entire group gradually relieved the immense strain filling their bodies and minds alike.

Comet included.

Despite the unpleasant tension still lingering all around him, he couldn’t resist giving into his curiosity after sensing the stranger on his friend’s lap. And with his mom feeling better, and now Sue feeling better too, there was no better opportunity to see who they were. And maybe even give them a big hug, too.

Comet liked his hugs.

His desire to be lowered down onto her mom’s lap was expressed through a weak telekinetic force pushing away at her arm. Solstice got the message right away, paying close attention to her son afterwards lest he’d use the opportunity to try falling off her thighs.

Again.

Instead, he sat down and crawled over to the ghost on Sue’s lap, their emotions no less turbulent than those of his mom and friend. Frightened, comforted, deeply uncertain about what was going on or what was gonna happen next. In dire need of more comfort.

Just the thing Comet was made for.

pat pat

The psychic trio felt a fearful flinch go through the bag in response to Comet’s attempted affection. Not one of outright terror, but still unnerved, the unpleasant emotion soon spreading to Comet via proximity.

“Shhhh, shhhh, don’t worry sweetie, Comet just wants to say hi.”

Even with Solstice’s translation, the ghost’s grasp on what their guardian was saying was... limited. Many of the details were lost in the fog of confusion, but thankfully, not the gist.

Everything is alright. The stranger is a friend. You’re safe.

I’m not going anywhere.

Meanwhile, Comet received similar support from his mom. The two tykes couldn’t have looked any more different if they’d tried, but beneath the skin, or in the ghost’s case cloth, they really were almost the same. ‘Almost’ was an important quantifier, as evidenced by the lil’ Forest Guardian doubling down on his comfort shortly after, thankfully to a much better reception.

“^They feel so little. Poor sweetie. Do they have a name?^”

Sue shook her head in resignation, the question of name one she had no idea how to tackle.

“No. They haven’t responded when I tried speaking to them sooner. Aren’t responding now, either. Can’t really name them like that...”

“^Why not?^”

The unexpected question perked the once-human up, leaving her uncertain on how to answer.

“I-I don’t want to give them a name they’ll dislike, o-or regret...”

“^If they turn out to dislike it, you can give them another. Or if they figure out how to communicate, they can choose one for themselves later.^”

As simple as the explanation was, Sue had difficulties really wrapping her head around it on an intuitive level.

“Just- just give them another name? How’s that work?”

It was Solstice’s turn to be stunned, the disconnect between her own and Sue’s ways of thinking starker than ever and with no obvious cause she could immediately sense.

“^...the usual way?^”

The non-answer forced Sue to flex her remaining neurons, much to the displeasure of all four of them.

What does she mean, just changing a name? Won’t there be an entire hassle—

...

No, there won’t.

As blatantly obvious a realization as it was in hindsight, there wasn’t anyone here keeping track. No magical pieces of paper or plastic tied to a singular, specific name, no vast, ancient databases with one cranky, opinionated bastard in charge. Name wasn’t a magical key to one’s identity here, it was just...

What one wished to be called.

And if someone wanted to be referred to differently, then all they’d need to do was... tell others. Especially in a place as small as Moonview, where that kind of stuff could easily spread by word of mouth.

Suppose the leniency with names made much more sense with that in mind.

“I... see, now. That’s just... not how my world worked, my bad.”

“^All’s good, Sue~. I got a glimpse of what you were thinking about and... goodness it sounds like such a mess to deal with where you’re from.^”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

“^I would’ve been screwed with this being my third name, ha...^”

“Third?”

Solstice flinched at the question before composing herself and slowly nodding. Before Sue could ask what was wrong, the Mayor continued, her free hand stroking Comet’s stiff hair.

“^Yep. Back in my clan... two, three, sometimes even four names are the norm. The very first one is given to you once you hatch and while you remain a Moon Child. Usually the silliest and most whimsical, liiiiike ‘Comet’, teehee.^”

The mention of his own name got the Moon Child in question to squeak out loud, and turn around in his seat to look up at his mom, nearly making himself dizzy in the process.

“^Yep, I’m talking about you sweetie~. Love you.^”

squeak!

Both Solstice and Sue needed the resulting wave of giggles more than words could convey.

“Moon Child- is that how Comet’s... eh...”

“^Yep, that’s the name for his form specifically. He’ll evolve when he’s close to three years old into his second form. Some call them Stardancers, some call them Twirl Fairies. It’s not as settled as ‘Moon Child’ is. If he wants, he’ll get another name then, a more ‘serious’ one, teehee.^”

Sue had a hunch about what that ‘serious’ name could be. For a good while, she hesitated to ask it, not wanting to bring her mentor any more grief... but Solstice noticed all the same. It made her wince, but only that, composure preventing her from getting affected by it any harder.

“^Yes, like ‘Aurora’.^”

“S-sorry-“

“^No, don’t be, Sue. I won’t say it doesn’t hurt, but... the sooner I’m able to talk about her without breaking down, the better.^”

The Mayor’s reasoning made sense, but that didn’t mean she’d get to escape further comfort from her pupil.

“^Thank you. Now, where was I. I think I already mentioned it in the past, but at around eleven to twelve years of age, one evolves into their last form, most commonly the one we share, the ‘Forest Guardian’.^”

...most commonly?

“Is there a different form?”

“^Indeed, though it’s a very rare one. Only for males, and only after they settle out on a pilgrimage to a sacred shine far in the north, which holds... I believe it’s some sort of artifact that allows the evolution into that other form.^”

Despite having interacted with ghosts, illusionist foxes, floating ice creatures and many varieties of living plants, this was the one explanation that Sue just couldn’t buy.

“...why only males? And why that specific... ‘artifact’?”

“^Hundreds of our kin have been pondering on those exact questions for centuries by now, ha! I don’t know. Quite frankly, I greatly prefer our form and can’t imagine the other one being in any way comfortable.^”

“What’s that ‘other form’ like?”

“^From what I remember... very physically strong. An exchange of the Moon’s blessing for an unrivaled physique, with much the same psychics. I’ve seen them be quite fearsome when sparring, though no more so than a well-trained Forest Guardian. Merely differently.^”

A shiver went down Sue’s spine at the mention of a ‘well-trained Forest Guardian’. Solstice’s abilities were unnerving enough, and she sure didn’t feel like she had any combat training…

“I- I see. And that final ‘evolution’ brings with itself yet another name?”

“^Kind of. While the previous names were all temporary ones that would be eventually discarded, this final name doesn’t work like that. In my tribe, it was treated as your true name, the only one you were to use or be called from that point on. It wasn’t given freely, either. Just evolving wasn’t enough; one had to earn it, prove oneself as a true member of the tribe.^”

Now that’s closer to what I’m used to.

“How does one do that?”

“^In my case, it was through completing my healer training and making my vows to spread Pale Lady’s glory through my actions. Once that or... a different way of proving oneself was done, you had to wait until the next full Moon. Then, your family would go through an entire ritual, in which they both gave you your true name, and... engraved your sacred bond towards the Pale Lady on your very body.^”

Solstice’s pensive gaze resting on her tattoo’d arm let Sue connect the dots herself. Suppose that finally explained where these came from and what was their purpose, though not without some follow-up questions to be had.

Considering how much of a deal that ‘true’ name is for them, prolly a bad idea to ask about her old ones...

“Looks... painful.”

“^On its own, it probably would’ve been. Thankfully not, it’s a very joyous ritual, a celebration of truly becoming a part of the Pale Lady’s herd. Much singing and dancing was had. You had to drink a sacred concoction before others would apply these markings. It paralyzes your body, dulls all the pain into something almost ticklish, and... lets you commune with the Pale Lady directly.^”

The Mayor’s recollection remained unenthusiastic until she got to the very final point. As much as everything else was tainted to her by association, the aforementioned communion wasn’t. Sue leaned in closer out of curiosity, hand idly alternating between delivering affection to the pair of little ones on the Forest Guardians’ lap.

“If it’s alright for me to ask... what- what did you see?”

Despite Sue’s reservation, the question still stung something fierce, more than what the once-human expected. Before she could worry about having made yet another faux pas, Solstice answered.

“^She reassured me about my mission. That me running away and fighting against the heresy that portrayed night kin as monsters was righteous. She gave me her blessing on that task, and I-^”

Sue didn’t know what to say to make her mentor feel better. She didn’t get any better at finding the right words for all this since yesterday, but... she was there for Solstice, and she wanted her to know it. Her embrace was shaky, her own raging emotions making it all so much harder than it would’ve otherwise been. Despite that, she kept doing what she could to comfort Solstice.

Because what else am I to do?

“I’m so sorry.”

squeak?

Comet wasn’t oblivious to his mom’s worsening mood, either. Before she could try to reassure him, he was already raising his arms up to be picked up again, and his mom wouldn’t refuse.

“^It’s okay. That’s my sin to bear. You shouldn’t worry about it, Sue.^”

Before the once-human could get a word in edgewise, Solstice continued—

“^If I remember, you mentioned something a couple of days ago about wondering if it was possible to straighten your hair out. I think relaxing like that could help you, if you can find Patina around.^”

‘Getting her hair done’ was pretty far down the list of things Sue felt she should be doing... but Solstice had a point. Not like she had much ability to actually accomplish most of the other items on that list. Maybe something low-stakes to make her feel better was exactly what she needed right now.

That awareness sucks in its own right, but it’s probably best for me to just move on.

“A-alright. What do they look like?”

“^Patina? Hard to miss her and Celestica. Tall, red, flaming, clad in greenish metal. You’ll know her when you see her. She has her workshop over in that direction.^”

The addition of the second name took Sue aback, almost to where she overlooked Solstice’s directions. They were vague, but they sure beat nothing. She wanted to ask for a clarification about the appearance, but before she could do that, the Mayor had already gotten up.

“^Alas, I should get going. I hope your day goes well, Sue.^”

“Y-you too, Solstice.”

A sad, tired smile, a strained nod, and off the Mayor went, her son clinging to her for all he could.

And so, Sue was left with just the lil’ ghost.

All the arrivals and departures around them had left them quite confused, the realization making Sue chuckle. Now that she didn’t have to share her attention with anyone else, she lifted their bag to inspect the eyes she saw earlier, and to let them see her some more.

Just a pair of twinkles in the dark.

Almost like stars in the night sky.

“Hey there. Suppose if names aren’t as big of a deal as I thought they were, something temporary for you won’t hurt.”

Solstice’s guidelines provided a starting point, but they were obviously tailored for a very different species and culture. On the other hand... did that fact even matter? Sure, the blob-like ghost wasn’t like Comet, but they both felt very young from the little Sue could piece together. She didn’t have to go with the most serious name around. Just something that could be uniquely theirs, like...

Like...

Words kept stubbornly not coming, making Sue tap her undamaged leg in annoyance.

It’s just a name. It matters so little, and yet so much.

She kept staring into their eyes as a pair of black tendrils wrapped around her hand once more. Haunting as she found that sight not a few hours ago, by now it had turned into something entirely opposite. Reassuring, funny even, her imagination cheering her up with the mental image of a scared blob that keeps clinging to anyone halfway nice and doesn’t want to let go.

Not far from the truth at all.

“Now, what do your twinkly eyes have to say for themselves—”

...

...

“Twinkle.”

The darkness inside the bag blinked as if startled, before focusing on Sue again.

“Yeah... that works. Twinkle. A bit silly, but it fits. What do you think?”

Twinkle predictably didn’t respond in any definite way, but... that didn’t mean they remained idle. Sue didn’t remember them wiggling their body this much before, but could be she’d just overlooked it. In either case, they felt happy too, which gave the once-human all the confidence she needed to stick with her idea.

And now, to figure out how to get going again.

Sue didn’t mind carrying Twinkle with herself, but really wished she had a bag right about now, or even just a purse. Something to let her do it hands-free.

Maybe tying their bag around... somewhere could work?



I have an idea.


It was a position that wouldn’t have worked at all back in her old body for several anatomical reasons, but one that felt just barely possible in this one. With as much care to avoid looking straight at the brain-melting darkness as she could, Sue untied one of the knots and lifted the bag to rest on her shoulder blade. Then, she wrapped the opposite corners around her neck and under her arm, respectively, tying the knot over where her breast would’ve been. Now to just rotate it all around so that they’re on her front and not back, aaaaand voila.

One chest-mounted ghostly bag child.

The hole through which they’d been able to see before ended up at too much of an angle to let them make out more than the ground immediately in front of their guardian. Which, combined with the bag’s opening pressing against her chest, didn’t leave them with much they could do, their anxiety palpably growing by the moment.

“Hey, hey Twinkle, I’m still here. Still here.”

Sue only hoped her reassurance would prove effective as she gently patted the quaking bundle. Still there for them, not going anywhere. Thankfully, the mixture of her touch and occasionally erratic heartbeat reverberating through Twinkle’s entire amorphous body was enough to soothe them down, one beat and pet at a time.

And then some, if them growing mentally quiet soon after was anything to go by.

Regardless if they’d just calmed down or actually fell asleep, Sue finally felt ready to get going herself.

Twinkle, check.

Aching in her leg, check.

Vaguest idea of where to even go, check.

Let’s do this.

How hard can it even be to find someone as outlandishly looking as Patina?


As it turns out, ‘quite’.

A solid half an hour of searching later, Sue wasn’t doing any better with directions than before. She checked almost every landmark she could think of off the top of her head. The plaza, the playground, the construction site, the vicinity of the farm, even the little bath house she’d cleaned herself in a couple days ago. Nothing, again and again.

On that latter note, I could use a shower again.

...

Later.


With nowhere left to go and one increasingly annoyed leg, Sue eventually had to sit down and reassess the situation. This wasn’t working. Not a particularly groundbreaking realization, but it needed to be said. She didn’t have many other options that weren’t asking someone else for help, which meant-

sigh

Which meant it probably was time to indeed ask someone for help.

Burdening a passerby with being a lost tourist wasn’t exactly her dream activity following the chaos of even just today. Sue wasn’t even sure it beat sitting like this and sulking until the council meeting later today. She wouldn't be able to participate in it, but she sure as well wasn’t gonna run and hide in some dark hole while Newmoon’s fate was being discussed. Even if she wouldn’t affect anything, she wanted to be present.

She needed to be present.

To make up for all the times when she was too scared to be present in the past.

Attempting to distract herself from falling into yet another dark pit in her memories, Sue refocused on her immediate surroundings. The bench she sat on might not have been the most comfortable place in the world, but being located off to the side of a moderately sized intersection gave her a decent view of Moonview’s everyday goings-on. She either didn’t know or only barely recalled most of these faces, much to her annoyance.

At least nobody is staring at me anymore.

The realization helped, but only just. She would need a distraction soon unless she wanted to be left with just her thoughts again, and after the turmoil of this morning, Sue’d rather not. One suicidal tangent was plenty for a long, long time.

C’mon, c’mon- there you are.

Sue didn’t even know what that particular builder was named, but frankly, she didn’t care. Their appearance was familiar, if barely, and that’s all that mattered. She sure didn’t expect to ever think of the presence of a gray, hulking, bipedal rhino to be in any way reassuring.

In the end, it was just yet another way in which this world was keen to keep surprising her.

Enough philosophizing, time for some people watching—

...

Duck’s sake.

The once-human wasn’t even sure whether her mind subconsciously erased the walking bouquet and the white-navy cat beside her from her vision, or if she’d just overlooked them. Either way, the awareness of their presence wasn’t doing her any favors.

At least it seemed to be one sided for the time being.

The two had been eating something together on a bench when the rhino approached the flower medic, Orchid’s response one of apparent confusion. They exchanged words for a while, neither exactly growing enthusiastic throughout. Whatever the rhino had said, it had mostly brought on unease that then spread back to them.

Sue watched Orchid extend one vine from the chaotic mess of flowers around her head and almost go through with using it to pat the rhino on the back, before ultimately choosing against it.

Shot down again, huh?

Even if that was the case, Sue wasn’t really in the mood for schadenfreude. She knew nothing about that specific builder, but after witnessing their team’s friendliness towards Ginger, she was more than willing to give them the benefit of the doubt in most circumstances.

She had almost looked away from that unfortunate result in search for someone else to focus on, before realizing that despite that mishap, the two were still talking. The topic had changed, though, to something the rhino was much more steadfast about. And something that Orchid was much more overtly uncomfortable with, but only her. Northeast resumed her routine of flat, meowed-out questions, forcing the flower medic to engage with the subject further.

For once she’s aiming these at someone else.

Regardless of what the discussion was about, it seemed that the builder ultimately came on top. Their confidence didn’t waver even as Orchid’s body language went from ‘I’m really not sure’ to ‘I guess you’re right’. The cat continued with her intermittent questions before pausing for a longer while and thinking things through.

Mission accomplished, rhino-man.

Right as Sue thought about looking away at someone else, Northeast asked another question to the builder. An immediate nod, underlined with being eager to help however they could.

The cat’s second question, in turn, made everyone gathered look straight at Sue.

FUCK.

Their abrupt shift triggered Sue’s fight-or-flight response immediately, though her brain was keen to stay stuck on ‘freeze’.

Much to the displeasure of the rest of her.

Before she could even see what that massive builder was going to do now that they had her in their sights, Sue heard a loud call aimed squarely at her. This time, it was from much closer up, and combined with the startle immediately before, almost made her heart drop there and then.

On the flip side, it also provided some actual answers, ones she’d managed to process before her brain could whip her into running for the hills.

The smaller, blue bipedal rhino sat in a very similar category in Sue’s mind to the gray one. Familiar in appearance, likely somehow related to the builders. Zero knowledge about anything beyond these couple of facts, making it rather difficult to piece the ‘why’ just from them standing there.

Add to that their earlier cheer at finally finding her, their present concern for her, and the being that stood beside them, and it all suddenly made so much more sense.

Despite having seen this particular villager before, Sue hadn’t made the connection between them and the name ‘Patina’ until now. Bipedal, roughly her size, with an almost entirely red body covered by variously shaped plates of green or gray metal. An honest-to-Duck flame ponytail sprouting from the back of their head. An expressionless face, with a palpably relieved mind behind it.

A minor jolt in Sue's brain, overlooked in all the chaos.

Wait, are they looking for me—

“There ya are! Gah darn it, wouldna thought findin’ a Guardian woulda been so hard, ha!”

The boisterous and slightly aged voice immediately derailed Sue’s train of thought as she focused on the blue rhino, too taken aback to respond right away.

“Moon got ya tongue, Sue? Ha! AH- I see, I see, ‘aven’t introduced meself yet! Name’s Daisy!”

Despite sounding like she was three days away from retirement, the bespoke Daisy spaced no vigor in walking up to Sue’s bench and reeling back her paw for a high-five. The once-human wasn’t faring any better in processing just what was happening, but before she could consciously act, her well-honed subconscious reflex of responding to high-fives in kind got the initiative.

CLAP!

OW THAT HURT.


“Ayyy, ya even know tha proper greetin’, hun!”

As Sue reeled from the most forceful high-five of her life, Patina slowly caught up with them, only barely keeping her quiet laughter contained. The once-human used the brief lull in conversation to grip her aching hand as forcefully as she could, and check whether the other rhino was still approaching-

Both the rhino and Orchid were giggling while the former headed out back in the direction they came from.

...

What-

“^Sure seems our arrival came as a shock, eh Sue?^”

Patina’s voice was the most clearly telepathic one the once-human had sensed during her stay here yet. Whereas Solstice’s and Sundance’s were subtle enough to where she wouldn’t have been able to tell without either watching their lips or paying close attention to the sounds, Patina’s was unnaturally buzzy and slightly harsh, almost as if transmitted over radio.

Still ten times more understandable than anything I can mumble out.

“I- yeah, that’s true...”

“^Ahahaha. Solstice ran into me and mentioned that you were looking for me, so I started looking too.^”

Once Sue had gotten over the overall sound of Patina’s voice, she paid closer attention to it. Feminine, middle-aged, somewhere around Sundance’s age, if she had to guess. Slightly fiery, as if spoken on top of a crackle of a modest campfire.

“And I helped after they two kept stumblin’ blindly!”

“^I assure you, we weren’t ‘stumbling blindly’.^”

The third voice caught Sue entirely off guard, sounding unlike either Patina’s or Daisy’s. Imposing, metallic, and positively ancient even without having the same kind of dry croaking to it that Daisy or Willow had. She had absolutely no idea where it had come from, but that didn’t seem to be an obstacle to the blue rhino.

“Ya ya ya, sure sure sure~.”

Brushing aside the confusion surrounding the third voice, Sue focused on what the first two were saying. The realization that two people had to take time out of her day just to help her look brought on another wave of embarrassment.

“S-sorry for taking your time—”

“Naaah, nothin’ ta worry ‘bout, Sue! Glad ah could help ya out!”

Daisy’s rebuke was delivered with all the earnesty it was physically possible for a voice to contain, and followed up on by a roaring chuckle.

“^Daisy’s right, it’s really not a problem. Besides, this will be a more interesting thing to tackle than anything else I could be doing, haha.^”

“See?! Anywho, time for the ol’ me to go! Take care and I hope ya feel better soon, Sue!”

“Th-thank you, Daisy...”

“Anytime, hun.”

With Daisy taking her leave to the sound of mighty stray chuckles, Sue focused on Patina as she prepared to get up. Right as she was about to go for it, a pair of voices spoke to her.

“^Can you walk on your own, Sue?^” / “^Do you require our assistance?^”

As Sue sat stunned, the voice she was confident was Patina’s burst into a drawn out chuckle at the untimely overlap. Before either the fire woman or the voice beside her could ask again, the Forest Guardian’s autopilot finally pushed her onto her legs, answering both their questions.

“^Good stuff. Follow us, Sue, let’s get you to the workshop, eh?^”

Don’t know what’s a workshop got to do with doing people’s hair but who am I to argue.

Despite Sue’s attempts to just quietly follow Patina and... someone, her curiosity wouldn’t stay quiet forever. There was the worry she’d be asking something private, much like she almost did with Solstice earlier. With that other voice being willing to speak up, the logical part of the once-human’s brain managed to push through the tropical storm of anxiety and doubt for long enough to confirm that asking about it was probably fine.

Probably.

“U-ummm—”

“^Confused about the ol’ bell, ah?^”

“...what—”

“^Me.^”

It wasn’t the kind of clarification Sue was expecting, but she acknowledged it all the same, nodding eagerly.

“^I am Celestica.^”

“^They’re my... suppose you could say they’re my parent. Raised me up many years ago, and now we’re tied like this.^”

Having an actual name for the metallic voice was appreciated, but it didn’t explain its origin. As well as Sue had tried to hide it, her confusion about the subject was downright palpable. Eventually Patina made her flinch by turning around for a moment-

And patting the thick metal plates covering her front and arms.

“^That’s them.^”

“^What remains of me.^”

“^Indeed.^”

The visual demonstration made the explanation finally click in a slightly disturbing way. All the plates on Patina’s torso and arms were clearly a part of a singular whole, the engravings and even the corrosion matched. Sue sure didn’t expect that ‘whole’ to have apparently been a person, much less a person who was, somehow, still alive.

“I-I have questions.”

“^Hardly the first, hardly the last, ha! Feel free, we don’t mind.^”

Sue wasn’t sure what to ask about first, or even how to word it. It all felt bizarre, and she couldn’t think of any comparison for all this back from her home world.

Actually... maybe something like one of those baby carriers or slings she saw a few fresh moms use? Just a hands-free way of carrying a kid around, but with... her parent, apparently. Just like-

Just like what I’m doing at this very moment.

“^Ahaha.^”

An unintentional release of tension is still a release of tension, Sue supposed.

“Alright. Is your parent... in pieces?”

“^Correct.^”

“Isn’t that painful?”

“^Not anymore.^”

That didn’t inspire even a shred of confidence inside Sue.

“That sounds rough...”

“^Well, it was either that or them dying, we’re both glad for this outcome.^”

Oh.

“I’m sorry to hear. Was it a... sickness—”

“^A coordinated assassination attempt.^”

Ducking Duck.

“^Lemme give the background. So, we both hail from quite a ways away, from what people in Moonview call ‘the divine mountain’.^”

“^Triune’s Throne.^”

“^Her true name. Plenty of shrines close to Her peak, and Celestica served in one of them with others of their kin. And then I showed up!^”

“^Lost, alone, hatched from a stray egg of unknown origin.^”

“^You mentioned that... how’d you describe it, ‘dimensions get weird’ so close to Throne’s peak?^”

“^Spacetime frays. Glimpses of distant lands and uncountable futures.^”

“^And apparently one of said Glimpses resulted in my egg making my way through.^”

“That’s hard to imagine...”

“^Throne’s peak strains mortal senses. Our watch was to protect it and others from it in equal measure.^”

“^Their fellow guardians... weren’t happy about me being around for that reason, ha!^”

“^To dash an innocent life is to strike the Moon’s Grace Herself.^”

The mention of Moonview’s signature deity in a place so far away from it caught Sue’s attention.

“Is She worshiped over there?”

“^Among other deities.^”

“^Her shrine there is so much larger than Moonview’s, ha! Much uglier too, though.^”

“^My kin aren’t artists.^”

“^Excuses! Anywho, Celestica took me in after I hatched and made sure I could handle the craziness of the near-peak. Eventually... their fellow guardians tried to take their life.^”

In literally any other circumstances, asking whether someone she was talking to in that very moment survived a tragic event would’ve been at best crass, and at worst outright fucked up. And yet, considering Celestica’s current state, Sue couldn’t come up with any other type of question.

“H-how’d it go?”

“^Well... Celestica died, or at least that’s what I thought.^”

“^There was a lapse in my consciousness.^”

“^I thought they would all come for me next, so I tried hiding inside what remained of her, and... evolved afterwards. No idea why. I’ve never met another of my kin and I doubt I ever will, but it happened exactly as I’m telling it.^”

“^Following that, I was conscious again.^”

“^We scorched a couple of them, ran off, and many, many years later... here we are.^”

Despite how horrible much of what Patina had just described was, her mood remained rather upbeat through it all, taking Sue aback. Guess she really was used to going through all that, for better or worse...

“Well, I’m glad you two are doing better now...”

“^Thank you, ha! Yeah, I’d say we’re managing.^”

“^This existence is preferable to my previous one, overall.^”

“^See? Anywho, here’s the workshop, come in!^”

The building dwarfed most others in Moonview.

It was right at the village’s edge, on the opposite side to the farm. The inside was split almost perfectly in half between two vastly different purposes. On one end, a mess of kilns, a small pile of charcoal, and a much larger pile of what just looked like rocks piled up almost to the ceiling in the corner. On the other, shelves of assorted wooden bottles, a few barebones metal tools, and a contraption of a chair in front of a large bowl of water.

“^Bit messy, don’t know when I’ll have the time to clear it. Lemme get it ready for you.^”

As uncertain as Sue was about touching or worse yet sitting on anything in this most-definitely-not-OSHA-compliant building, watching Patina adjust the chair so that it had a hole in its back for her horn made the once-human change her mind instantly.

Gimme a proper seat in here...

“^Take a seat, ha! I’ve been trying a few sorts of hair straightening solutions in the past, but never on Forest Guardian hair. This’ll be fun...^”

Sue hoped that said ‘fun’ would remain of the non-corrosive, non-explosive variety as she sat down. And then, that anxious hope disappeared from her mind, together with everything else, the moment she rested her back and relaxed her shoulders.

Bliss.

Patina only acknowledged Sue’s reaction with a smirk as the Forest Guardian struggled to think. It seemed it’d be a while until the fire woman had everything ready, and until then, there were quite a few parts of this place’s... decor that begged to be explained.

“If it’s alright, what are those rocks in the corner?”

“^Ore. Copper, iron, a bit of zinc too, all from our quarry. Some of it’s quite old, likely corroded. Been trying to figure out Aurelia‘s technique for it, but no luck so far!^”

“Aurelia?”

“^That used to be her smithy. I was giddy to become her apprentice, but we didn’t get through much before... yeah. She’d scold me to Triune’s Throne and back for letting it fall to such disrepair. I’ll figure it out sometime. Too many ideas for acids and solutions, not enough time to just move it all to its own place.^”

As peppy as Patina remained earlier, this turned out to be a much more sore topic for her than that of her parent’s near-death. Sue didn’t want to judge, hoping it was just a matter of the passage of time having dulled old wounds. Odd or not, her explanation didn’t clarify just who the person in question was.

“I’m sorry to hear. Her name doesn’t really ring a bell, though.”

“^Figures! Going off what we saw ya doing back at the feast a few days ago, one description in particular ought to clean it up—^”

And just like that, the spring had returned to Patina’s voice, as if nothing was amiss.

Only to then send a chill through Sue’s very core with what she said next.

“^Aurelia… was Pollux’s mother.^”



If you're confused about the species of the characters and want them spoiled, I've set up a page listing the species of all the featured characters in each chapter!

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Chapter 24: Damnation


Chapter 24: Damnation



“^Aurelia… was Pollux’s mother.^”

The words echoed in Sue’s mind, all the implications hitting her one after another. This entire building once belonged to Pollux’s family before they were banished, making her feel uneasy sitting here to begin with. Even more shocking, though, was Patina’s mention of Pollux, and in such a casual tone at that.

The night kin fox was hiding from Moonview for a reason, after all.

“P-Pollux’s?”

“^Yep! You know of him, right? Swear I saw you hanging out with him back at the feast a few days ago, eh?^”

Sue had gone from confused to downright shocked in a span of just a few words, and she wasn’t even sure which part of Patina’s response did her in. Her having apparently seen through Pollux’s disguise? The fox being present so close to Moonview being treated so lightly, as if he were just another villager?

The latter would absolutely be preferable one day, but they all knew that it wasn’t so yet.

Regardless of which of these implications had stunned her more, she was left sitting on Patina’s contraption of a seat mute and motionless. Her shock was palpable to the other two as they gathered ingredients from all over the workshop. Patina’s upbeat, crackling chuckling mixed in with Celestica’s slow, almost entirely flat string of ‘ha’s.

“^What’s so surprisin’? I’m sure ya know him.^”

“I-I do, but... how do you know about him? Or even see him?^”

“^Ahaha. Oh Sue, that fox’s good at his disguisin’, but that sure ain’t true about him focusing for more than five minutes, ha! Hard not to notice once he stops masking himself on accident, and that sorta stuff happens all the time. Even happened at that feast with you all, I think? I reckon I wasn’t supposed to see your little campfire, pfft.^”

That makes way too much sense for Pollux.

“I see. But in that case, don’t others notice him too?”

“^Occasionally.^”

“^Yep. Nobody’s really surprised to see him in here, not anymore. No point in raisin’ a fuss about it, especially since all he ever does is hang out with Spark or other kiddos, anyway. Or sometimes be a lil’ scamp with Solstice and Root, pfft.^”

Sue acknowledged the response with an idle nod while her mind tried to fit that revelation in. Considering all the tension, considering Root’s action, she certainly didn’t expect Pollux’s presence here to be such a non-issue for most. At the same time, said priest was far and away the most militant person against night kin being present here, so it only made sense for everyone else to be more laid back in that regard.

Still highly messed up, especially with people of Moonview merely looking the other way as opposed to wholeheartedly accepting him.

And with recent events... Sue doubted that even that half-solution would remain in place for much longer.

“Suppose that makes sense, but... I worry it might change for the worse with what happened to D- Night Mother’s altar.”

“^D... what?^”

“N-nevermind.”

“^With regards to the events you mentioned. Were you present when they took place, and if so, are you capable of clarifying certain contradictions we have overheard?^”

“^Oh yeah, with the way some people have been telling it, you’d think Ginger hit that ugly thing with a roundhouse kick from half a Moonview away.^”

Hardly something Sue wanted to elaborate upon, especially after spending so much time getting people up to speed with Sundance’s situation earlier. At the same time, considering Patina already clarified one part of Moonview’s common opinion for her, Sue wouldn’t be opposed in the slightest to learning more.

Even if it took retreading the same, traumatizing memories again.

“I was there when it happened. Ginger was trying to feel along the back side of that wall, and it immediately lost its balance. Then he tried to stabilize it and all, but it just... fell. Kantaro got there not long after, Ginger tried to talk to him, but he just didn’t want to repair it. I don’t know why. Or, I guess, I can infer it being made from something he initially made for Night Father... right?”

“^Yep, heh. And that’s all... surprisin’, frankly.^”

I sure didn’t expect the physical embodiment of protection against the night kin to fall to a couple of prods either, but I doubt that’s what she’s referring to.

“What is?”

“^The drama about the monument in particular. What happened to Sundance I can at least understand, but this? Hell nah, everyone’s frettin’ about something almost nobody liked to begin with.^”

Sue’s confounded stare conveyed her question wordlessly; the fire woman chuckled to herself before hovering the last of the small jars over and clarifying-

“^Them side monuments, I mean. I remember when that happened, back when everyone was still recoverin’ from that bloody plague, and Root kept doubling down on that dumb idea of his. Even back then, almost nobody wanted Night Father’s shrine taken down, especially in such a crass way. Root, Willow, High Tide maybe, and a handful of others were the only vocal supporters. Though I guess, with time, more and more came on board just so that they wouldn’t have to see the constant reminder of what they’d done.^”

Willow. Oh no...

Patina’s whole body shuddered, the motion particularly visible in her flaming ponytail. She went unusually quiet for a moment afterwards as she filled up a small ceramic dish with tiny bunches of several powders, most of them stinging Sue’s eyes or throat from a good few feet away.

Something tells me I really should be wearing a rebreather here.

“^To think such a sublime shrine was defiled in pursuit of heresy... it hurts even me.^”

“^No kiddin’, eh? Sure ain’t surprised Root pushed it that hard, you’d think with the way he talks that the entire pantheon consists of just the Pale Lady, but others... disappointin’.^”

Sue didn’t disagree with that at all, but one word in particular caught her attention and wouldn’t let go. One she wasn’t entirely certain how to interpret, and really wanted to know how it was meant.

“If… if it’s alright—what did you mean by ‘heresy’ there, Celestica?”

As Patina kept playing the role of equal parts chemist and medieval alchemist who would be dead at age 55 of mercury poisoning, Sue watched the patterns on what remained of Celestica’s body glow up in her direction. The small, reddish part down on Patina’s side turned to face her, as if it was—

...

It must’ve been Celestica’s eye.

“^These traits that Root had enriched the Pale Lady’s shrine with are not Hers. They are of the Dark Lord, His domain and duty. To wrestle such traits from a deity to favor another is high heresy. My people were wretched, but their response would have been entirely appropriate for such a crime.^”

“...exile?”

“^Death.^”

Oh fuck.

“^C’mon Celly, you’re scaring her.^”

“^My intent isn’t such. It is not a punishment of a simple worshiper, it is a punishment of a high priest. Such as Root portrays himself as.^”

Sue supposed the clarification made it slightly better, but still... sheesh. Death penalty for a religious disagreement wasn’t the sort of punishment she’d ever want to see established, no matter how much Root deserved it.

...

Maybe just a little, if we're talking just Root.

“I... guess. Still, it’s a bit uncomfortable to think about.”

“^You ain’t alone in that regard Sue, doncha worry, ha.^”

Alright, that helps a bit.

“I heard that they’re gonna hold a council meeting today to discuss what’s gonna happen to the night kin. Do you think everyone might start cracking down on Pollux harder if it goes poorly?”

Patina let out a low hum in response, a quiet hiss of something being seared mixing into the sound.

“^I wish I could answer that with certainty, but I doubt it will, y’know. Like, hell, Pollux is still Pollux no matter what anyone else may or mightn’t have done. I sure don’t think any sort of harsher sentence means folk will start hurting him. Then again, I sure thought that exiling the night kin was a demented idea that would never happen in a thousand years either, eh...^”

That was the opposite of reassuring.

She was right; Moonview had already extremely overreacted out of paranoia once. What certainty did they have that the exact same tragedy wouldn’t repeat? Was anything truly different now compared to all those years ago? If anything, it all felt even more hopeless this time. Sundance was comatose; Solstice was tearing herself apart with guilt; she couldn’t even trust Willow, and aside from them all, she didn’t even know of any Elders around, and especially not the sort that would—

HHHIIISSSSSSSSssssssss

The nigh-deafening sound from so close almost made Sue bang her back horn all over the contraption of a seat. Thankfully, her mind had settled on ‘freeze’ rather than ‘flight’, and once it was done choking itself away from any and all thought, the once-human could actually take a look over at what had happened.

A fair bit of unpleasant-looking foam was spilling out of the bowl Patina was preparing her concoction in, and into a larger bowl the smaller one was hurriedly placed in. She spotted the fire woman audibly sighing in relief at averting staining anything else, but that seemed to be the full extent of her immediate safety concerns.

I wish I knew enough chemistry to know just how terrified I should be right now.

“^Pheeeew! Just in time. Actually, now that I think about it... it should just take someone standing up to Root and persevering.^”

The delayed follow-up had Sue’s undivided attention, eyes narrowing as she tried to slink ever so slightly away from Patina’s freshly made hopefully-not-chemical-weapon.

“Standing up to him like...?”

“^Y’know, just opposing him and not backing down. I’ve seen how that old fart argues, he’s never met a person he hasn’t tried to pressure, shout down, or guilt trip. If someone can withstand that and push through, argue against him, then I doubt things will get any worse, ha.^”

Patina’s description made Sue realize how many other ‘Root’s’ she has had to deal with in her past life, shuddering at recalling even a single interaction like that.

“...I think I get it, yeah. Hopefully, it’ll work out, then.”

“^I’d say very likely it will! Aight, that’s the mix I had in mind done. Should relax your hair and straighten it a fair bit—I sure hope so at least, hah!^”

Some of the smaller bowl’s contents were poured into another container, and diluted with a hefty dose of water.

“Will it hurt?”

“^Shouldn’t be too bad. Like any chloride, it’s gonna sting bare skin a decent bit, might lightly stain them curls, but a similar mix has worked well in the past for a couple other peeps at least!^”

Only one way to find out what ‘decent bit’ means, isn’t there.

“Alright then...”

“^Now just your... kid on your chest?^”

An eerie, unnerving impulse went through Sue at Twinkle being referred to in such a way. It was as if half her mind screamed in pain, and the other half in elation at hearing it, the combination just leaving her stunned for a hot minute.

“^...Sue?^”

“Uh, sorry. Should I move them?”

“^Oh up to you, I’d just assumed you forgot to do it earlier.^”

Considering what amounted to the lil’ ghost’s body was well protected with the rag they were sleeping in, there probably wasn’t a need to disturb them.

“They can stay here.”

“^Suit yourselves!^”

Patina’s hands felt just barely cold enough to not scald her skin as they guided Sue to lean fully into her seat, with a single adjustment letting her lean her head all the way back as well. Her and Solstice’s touch might’ve been pleasantly tingly, but the fire woman’s hands were almost an instant massage, making for a comfort even Spark had a hard time stacking up to.

Which was appreciated, considering how much her brew had made the Forest Guardian wince afterwards.

It wasn’t quite unbearable, but it sure got very, very close at times, especially when Patina tried to apply it to her roots. Too late to back out now, which meant another conversation topic was in order. And there just so happened to be an overlooked subject that Sue would really appreciate knowing more about, both for the future reference and out of simple curiosity.

And-ow-distraction.

“How was A-Aurelia like? Pollux’s mother you’ve mentioned earlier...”

“^Driven.^”

“^Hatched with a hammer in her hand, I tell ya! She got metallurgy like nobody I’ve ever seen, and kept on improving her craft every single day. Goodness, what she didn’t do. Metalworking, used to act fights out in Snowdrop’s fancy group, used to do actual fights on the side! Practice ones, I mean, the kinds that hurt, but leave ya stronger. Never had too many takers, but always one or two. Daisy, High Tide, Alastor—good gods, do I remember watching her fool around with Alastor. She’d keep letting him feel like he had the upper hand by hiding around, and then just punched him from thin air before any of us could even blink. And he’d keep on trying the same tactics over and over, almost like he wanted to be dominated, ahahaha!^”

Sue palpably felt Patina’s mood improve throughout her recollection, her ambient heat turning that much stronger and more pleasant. Didn’t help a whole lot with the stinging all over her head, but at that point, Sue knew she’d just have to suffer through it.

“She must’ve been strong.”

“^In so many ways, ha. She could’ve lifted this entire dainty hut up with one arm and got so good at bending metal that she didn’t even have to use tools past a certain point, just her four limbs. And her fire, goodness, it was so bright it kept burning out of her entire head, day and night. I keep on tryin’, and I sure ain’t gonna stop, but a part of me doubts I’ll ever compare. I sure hope I’ll ever figure out smelting iron eventually, with even half the skill and heat she handled it.^”

Considering all the heat and fire references, Sue had at least a partial idea about Aurelia’s ‘types’.

“Sounds like a Fire ‘type’... right?”

“^And Fighting, ahaha! That part’s also important, especially when it came to crushing all the ore before smelting it. From what she told me, tinkering with metal is rather common where she came from, though with nowhere near her sophistication, and mostly with gold. Trivial to work compared to even copper, and even children decorated themselves with gold leaf from time to time. Though hers were extra fancy—I remember seeing her for the first time and the sun glare from all the gold on her just blinding me for a hot while, oh those days were fun, ahahahah...^”

...’Fighting’ type?

The label didn’t inspire confidence in the slightest. If anything, it made Sue think back to the many varieties of local chavs starting shit at the town she grew up in. Who knew that such a mediocre football team could ever inspire such widespread violence, eh.

“It sounds like she was fun to be around.”

“^Worked hard, fought hard, played hard!^”

“^Drank hard.^”

“^Don’t act like you’d be any different if you still had a mouth, Celly.^”

“^I do not know what inebriation feels like.^”

“^Call that the Pale Lady’s blessing or something.^”

As pleasant as it was to hear Patina’s recollections, the unnerving ‘Fighting’ type detail aside, the constant mentions of Aurelia having been a metal worker had her thinking back over to the couple of metal objects she’d seen around. And among them, one immediately caught her attention the most.

“Did she make—”

“^Hon, if there’s anything metal you see in Moonview, Aurelia almost certainly was the one that made it.^”

“R-right. I guess that includes Daystar’s prosthesis... thing.”

“^Dayst... you mean Frostbite?^”

She goes by Daystar now.”

As Patina took a moment or three to stash the new knowledge deep into her fiery brain, Celestica summed it up shortly.

“^I am unsurprised.^”

“^No kiddin’, ahaha! Good for her, hope she’s alright. And yep, Aurelia made her that hook. No replacing all the usefulness or lethality of her natural claws with anythin’ artificial, but at least being able to hold on to stuff with both arms is useful.^”

Sue was almost certain about the answer to the question she was about to ask, but went with it anyway, even if just to hear how Patina would explain it.

“Did she just... make all that for Daystar on a whim?”

“^Yeah, why wouldn’t she? Psychic tricks are one thing, but for a Fighting type to not be able to use all their limbs is a tragedy and a half.^”

...

Considering Daystar of all people is also in said ‘Fighting’ category, it probably represents much more than an overeagerness to fight.

“I-I see. Daystar must’ve loved it.”

“^Ohhhh, you have no idea, hun. Then again, she never was too sad about having lost her paw in the first place, really. Apparently, it snapped her to the reality of what she was doing, and made her set out on the path that led her here. Sure never heard anyone else be simultaneously so thankful and hateful to anyone as she was to that one psychic bird that did her in, ahahaha.^”

Patina let out a drawn-out sigh, some of her exhale further warming Sue’s stinging head.

“^If I hadn’t already started being Aurelia’s apprentice, then seeing that sure would’ve made me, ha!^”

“What—what initially interested you, then?”

“^Hmm... think it was another of Aurelia’s gifts, actually. She told me she just got the idea one moment, and the second she was already forging copper with her bare hands! Ended up being a pretty pretty circlet, methinks.^”

Circlet.

“Wh-who did she make it for?”

“^Solstice, ha! They used to be besties, way back in the day. And now... ah... yeah.^”

Figures why she handed it back to Alastor then...

“^Aaaaanywho. How’re ya holdin’ up?^”

“M-managing.”

“^Tell me if I need to slow down or any—^”

“If you can, I’d rather you speed up.”

“^I see, I see~. Lean back in, and let’s get it done then, ahaha! Fingers crossed it works out!^”


It didn’t work out.

Thankfully, a thorough washing after Patina was done got rid of most of the stinging, and what little remained eventually faded afterwards. Pain wasn’t even the annoying part, though—nowhere near as the realization, after all was said and done, that Patina’s chemical assault on her scalp accomplished almost nothing for straightening these green locks out. And just to rub it in, whatever she’d used also left some spots slightly bleached.

Not that Sue minded that in a vacuum, but it sure didn’t feel pleasant after several hours of gripping the armrests as tight as she could. Even with Patina being as accommodating as she could be.

At least I didn’t break another leg.

Yay.


Disappointment or not, all that was behind her now. By the time she and Twinkle had stumbled out of once-Aurelia’s workshop, the sun was already almost done setting, emboldening her further. There weren’t anywhere near as many people drinking around the large clearing as when she was there a few days ago. Entirely understandable between yesterday’s events and what still awaited today, but it still made that entire half of Moonview feel... eerie.

Not eerie enough for her to go through the rest of the day on an almost empty stomach again, though.

With Poppy’s pastry in her hand, Twinkle on her chest, and plenty of the village still in front of her, Sue could start chewing through everything Patina had told her and which she’d already inferred about Root in general, and the upcoming hearing in specific.

Many of Moonview’s worst mistakes weren’t even all that popular amongst its people when they happened. Vote to exile the night kin passed with a single vote; the decision to turn Night Father’s shrine into the extensions of Duck’s monument was even more unpopular. Surely, after all these years and with so much shame fueling them, the people would avoid making the same harrowing mistake again. Avoid sentencing so many to so much suffering because of actions that were committed by so few, or which didn’t really matter whatsoever.

At least, that’s what Sue deeply hoped for.

If what Patina said was right—if it would really take a single voice to take a stand against Root and his narrative and not let itself get shouted down–then things would almost certainly work out. After all, someone would have enough of a spine to stand up and avoid further harm, and from there, it was just... expressing support for that person.

Admittedly, Sue had absolutely no idea how such a council even functioned, but hoped it wouldn’t be entirely filled with the badger’s sycophants if it truly fell down to just them to make the decisions that affected both villages.

Sue knew better than to let herself get overly hopeful while having so little concrete to work with, but figured that a little bit of hope wouldn’t hurt. As a treat.

As basic as the feat was, she was somewhat proud of herself for having figured out a way over to the gathering entirely on her own. Granted, all she had to do on her part was to just observe the passersby and follow the majority’s direction, but it was still more than the absolute nothing her self-critical thoughts wanted to portray it as.

While she marched over, alternating her limited brain capacity between walking upright with a limping leg and breathing deeply enough, another realization gradually crept in. This one she had very little idea what to do with, and neither the time, space, nor opportunity to mull it through.

Twinkle had woken up at some point.

Good evening, little one! This is Moonview line, heading straight... north toward our final station. Will it be Salvation Alley? Will it be Damnation Street? Who knows, that’s the fun of it!

That’s the bloody fun of it.


Even though Sue didn’t have any words for the little bag of child, that didn’t mean that she had no affection whatsoever. She gently grasped the small bundle with her left hand as she turned the last corner, feeling Twinkle wrap their tentacles around it as she looked for a place to sit down amidst the crowd.

This skin dress made that feat much more annoyingly difficult than she would’ve guessed.

The entire arrangement reminded her of the world’s smallest concert stadium. A short, flat mound, only a dozen or so feet in diameter. In front of it was a clearing so underutilized that much of it was still covered in grass. Above it all, the customary floating fireballs, the sight having become little more than a modest footnote by now.

Magical, floating, unending balls of fire? Boring, that’s so three days ago.

Thankfully, Solstice was already present, her aura even more anxious than Sue’s. It took the older Forest Guardian a while to even notice Sue’s arrival, despite her having towered over most of the crowd while finding a place to sit down. Even beyond that, her immediate reaction was a shudder and an alarmed look, taking the once-human aback.

“^Sue? What are you doing here?^”

“Just w-watching. Am I not allowed to?”

Sue tried to stress this being a genuine question and not a snarky reply, even though a small part of her really wished to say these exact words in that way. All the Mayor could do was sigh, shudder, and try her best to forcibly relax her posture again afterwards while answering.

“^Of course you are, it’s—nevermind.^”

That certainly wasn’t the kind of response Sue wanted to hear, its nervous hesitation making her second guess her own presence here. It was ultimately more morbid curiosity than it was actually being able to help with it, after all.

“^I’ll translate for you, but I ask you to not chat throughout. I-I need to focus on this.^”

“Of course.”

As if I needed to feel even worse about being here.

Despite that bitter topic, Sue wasn’t thinking of going anywhere, not now. More and more onlookers kept pouring on from all over Moonview, while the raised stage filled up. The living bouquet medic, Orchid. The blue, bipedal rhino that worked with the builders, Daisy. Floating cotton puffball with an attached face that seemed to manage the farms, Equinox. The leafy mantis caretaker, Splitleaf.

So many others she’d either only seen in passing, or not at all.

Willow.

Considering everything she’d seen and heard about the medic over the past couple of days, Sue wasn’t even sure if she trusted them at all. The thought stung particularly hard given they were the very first person here who’d visibly offered her care when she still had no idea what was going on or where she even was. Was it all just a lie? A facade they had put up to hide their true intentions?

The thought made little sense, and Sue was well aware. They weren’t just nice to her, but to everyone she’d ever seen them interact with. She still remembered them barging in with injured Joy very clearly, and if not for that very act, the metal girl might’ve still been constantly afraid today.

And yet.

The looks they gave her and Ginger when the latter swung by Moonview. Looks of uncertainty, of fear, of everything she would’ve expected from someone much more simple-minded than them. Not from someone who helped two separate weirdlings in the past few days alone.

Sue kept staring at them as she went through the unpleasant thoughts, and eventually, they looked back. A burst of upbeat surprise at seeing her here, accentuated with a timid wave in her direction. A smile that faltered with every passing moment at seeing someone they’d helped so recently staring back at them with earned distrust.

A nervous, unsettled look away, at anyone else but her.

Were they aware of why she distrusted them? Aware of her knowing what they did in the past, what horrible causes they allied themselves with, and judging them for it?

Does it even matter?

woof!


“Hey, Sparkie.”

Sue had barely noticed the lil’ firefox’s blissful heat even as she had climbed onto her lap. Everything felt numb and tense, as if she’d hit a nerve with her entire brain. With how much laid on the line, comfort was hard to focus on.

And yet, so much more important exactly because of that.

The once-human’s hand shook as she forcibly moved it to stroke Spark’s back. The other one didn’t fare any better, having to be constantly reminded to provide affection to Twinkle, else the sharp, haphazard motions would peter out after just a few moments. She wasn’t good at multitasking like this, not when this tense.

Hopefully her rocking in place wouldn’t draw too much undue attention.

A small glare of purple light in the corner of her vision heralded the arrival of the final remaining elder. Their expression was cross and just as tense as Sue’s; the spots around their neck burned with faint violet embers.

Root.

“^Greetings, everyone. We have gathered together to discuss the events of the past few days, and settle on a way forward.^”

Solstice’s telepathic voice was much more subdued than its usual self, keeping itself from cracking or even slightly withdrawing through the sheer forces of willpower and very heavy practice. Any remaining murmurs in the crowd faded away the instant she spoke up, the entire clearing’s emotion honing straight into confused uncertainty.

My favorite.

“IT IS AN OUTRAGE THAT—”

“Root.”

Equinox’s single word comment derailed the priest’s rambling before it could even demand. His eyes stared like daggers at such interruption, with the puffball continuing shortly after.

“There is another important matter that has transpired the day before what you’re itching to talk about. Let us please deal with it beforehand.”

Sue had to forcibly hold in a chuckle at Root being so unceremoniously held back, a task that many others failed at. With a deep breath, the flaming badger did just that, the flames around his neck not growing any weaker as he sat down.

“Thank you. High Tide, could you iterate through your concerns for us?”

The crowd’s attention turned towards the massive, blue, black-finned amphibian as she raised herself onto her hind legs and cleared her throat.

“Of course, Equinox. The water situation isn’t looking pretty. We’re straining our stream hard, especially as we keep on expanding our farms. I worry what might happen if an unexpected drought hits us later this year.”

Her voice was croaky and dry, keeping itself professionally flat despite quite a few emotions brewing up inside her head.

“Thank you. What are the possible answers to those concerns?”

“In simple terms—we don’t have enough water to have a comfortable buffer. We can either reconsider our cultivars and stop growing some of the particularly thirsty ones, source our local water supply from somewhere, or relocate our farms, in part or full, further downstream. Our stream joins a large river around two days of steady march away. There wouldn’t be any concerns with irrigation there for the foreseeable future.”

Having delivered her opinion, High Tide sat down, letting everyone focus on what the elders would say again.

“Straightforward matter ta’ me. Gotta cut some chaff and stick with what works. We’re sure growin’ waaaay too many different species in there, dunno if anyone eats half these things.” - Daisy swatted her paw off to the side, not thinking much of the whole affair.

“In my previous exchanges with High Tide, she had indicated that to be a very temporary solution, especially if Moonview keeps growing.” - Equinox shot her down shortly after with a justified concern, plunging most of the gathered into a deeper thought.

Naturally, we should expand downstream, and use these fertile lands for ourselves.” - It was Sue’s first time properly hearing Root’s voice, and the keening, downright sleazy sound sent a shudder down her spine.

Thankfully, he too would see objections being raised to his idea.

“There is a very high probability of those lands being already used for such a purpose, or otherwise controlled. We would not be claiming wilderness for ourselves. In all likelihood, we would be taking fertile soil that belongs to someone.”

The badger only gave Equinox’s counterpoint the briefest of considerations before scoffing it aside.

“I do not see why that would matter. We are the Pale Lady’s chosen peoples, all where Her light touches is our true domain. Why should we settle for anything less?”

“Because we gunna find our butts gettin’ whooped otherwise. Do ya think they’d just let us take them with a justification like that?” - Root’s glare narrowed at Daisy’s response, as if she’s spoken a sentence in an entirely different language.

“They may try, but they shan’t succeed, not with Her Grace at our side. Any strife to further Her glory is a strife justified.”

Sue shuddered deeply at the badger’s rhetoric, much of it deeply unpleasant to listen to.

“Well, I’d sure darn hope you’d be the one bargin’ in to defend ‘our’ lands in that case.”

Before Root could respond to Daisy’s dismissive words, the cottonball spoke once more.

“And that is only one of our problems. At such a vast distance, would whatever settlement arises even be called Moonview anymore? For all practical matters, they will be entirely separate from us, related through little more than the deity they worship. To them, we would be mere overlords, demanding they harvest resources for our use.”

“Not if we send our finest farmhands to take care of such a farm, the ones with unbreakable devotion.”

“Devotion will not help said theoretical settlement becoming its own independent entity, and merely becoming allied with us. Unless your idea is to forcibly rule such a distant place yourself, them gradually turning independent is all but unavoidable.”

Equinox’s comment didn’t inspire as much rage in Root’s as Daisy’s earlier one, thankfully. Instead came what looked like genuine thoughtfulness, culminating with a shudder that sent the badger’s flames dancing. Which exact part said reaction was in response to, Sue had absolutely no idea, and would rather not speculate lest it turned her even madder.

“Ghrmmmm... fine enough. The solution of searching for further local sources appears to be the best one, then.”

Most Elders agreed with varying levels of confidence, owing less to Root having raised any particularly good points, and more so to that option being by far the least unsustainable of the three presented earlier.

“^Does the council agree on that course of action?^” - Solstice’s words startled Sue out of her spaced out state, the discussion’s topic making it hard for her to focus particularly hard. Not something that directly affected her even remotely, but what would almost certainly follow suit would, and now it was time for her to pay very close attention.

Either no reaction or modest nods from everyone gathered, with Root glaring motionlessly into the middle distance.

“^Then it is settled. High Tide, I leave you in charge of that task. Gather any help around Moonview you feel necessary to accomplish with and ensure our water security.^”

“Aye aye, Solstice.”

With the mundane subject over with, everyone knew very well what awaited now, and exactly nobody was looking forward to it. Or rather, exactly nobody with a singular exception of a particular angry flaming badger, whose emotions appeared to be a paradoxical mix of outrage and downright giddiness to indulge in said outrage, if not an acknowledged one. It felt... weird to sense for herself.

I’m hardly unfamiliar with the underlying behavior, though.

Doomscrolling was something Sue was guilty of on more days than not. Even beyond just her, people constantly searching for stuff to be angry about was an internet pattern as old as time, and equally embarrassing each time.

The times where it happened in person were always the worst ones, though. Nothing she had to deal with personally—her dad had grown aloof in his final years but never went down that rotten path—but something she’d heard plenty about, be it as complaints, or harrowing stories about people’s parents having their brains entirely eroded by anger-inducing cable television.

It was terrible when stuff like that tore a family apart, but here it ran a serious risk of hurting unspeakably many people if indulged further.

Before Sue could ponder through that kind of behavior any further, the discussion finally continued.

“^With the topic of our water troubles done, let us proceed to the next—^”

“IT IS AN OUTRAGE THAT ONE OF THE NIGHT KIN WAS PERMITTED TO ENTER OUR HAVEN, AND DEFILE THE PALE LADY’S VISAGE!” - Root’s furious shout made Sue wince, the voice so much louder than needed to be well heard by everyone around.

And, unfortunately for all present, he wasn’t done yet, either.

“WE WERE ATTACKED—NAY, ASSAULTED—BY THEIR DESPICABLE, FILTHY DEN! WE HAVE TOLERATED THEIR PRESENCE IN OUR VICINITY FOR FAR TOO LONG, EVEN FOLLOWING OUR RIGHTEOUS BANISHMENT OF THEIR FOUL KIND. HOW MANY MORE OF OUR PEOPLE MUST BE HURT, HOW MANY MORE OF OUR CHILDREN MUST DIE, HOW MUCH MORE OF OUR FAITH MUST BE DEBASED FOR US TO TAKE ACTION AGAINST THOSE MONSTERS!?”

His ranting made absolutely no sense, nor did it need to.

Just need a single person to stand up against this nonsense, come on.

Sue clung to Patina’s claim like it was a piece of wreckage in the middle of the ocean, hoping more and more it would turn out right by the moment. She was managing for now,

But the same couldn’t quite be said for Solstice.

However anxious she had been earlier, her expression was now entirely flat and shaking, her emotions already veering perilously close to a full on internal breakdown. The once-human wanted to say something, encourage her to push on and stand up against the badger’s tide of anger—but she couldn’t.

Especially after it got even worse.

“AND WORSE YET! IT WAS ONE OF OUR VERY OWN THAT SOUGHT TO UNDERMINE OUR VERY OWN DECREE FROM YEARS AGO AND ALLY WITH THESE FILTHY MONSTERS! IMAGINE WHAT ALL OUR LOST ONES MUST THINK AT THAT, AT THE ONES THEY USED TO TRUST, GOING AGAINST THEIR VERY LEGACY AND SPITTING ON ALL THE SUFFERING THEY HAD EXPERIENCED!? THE ONE WHO HAD SAW THE LIGHT THESE MANY YEARS AGO, ONLY TO GO AGAINST THE PALE LADY’S JUDGEMENT DESPITE HER GRACIOUS TRUST IN THEM! JUST FOR OUR FAITH TO BE DEFILED, AND ANOTHER OF OUR CHERISHED TO BE GREVIOUSLY WOUNDED BY THEIR SAVAGERY!”

Root might’ve been saying his shouts to the gathering at large, but his eyes were downright drilling into Solstice, further and further with every single word. Every remark, every allusion to what had happened, both recently and so many years ago, seemed to push her towards all out locked-up, mute panic. All the shame she had tried to suppress, over everything that had gone wrong, over her hand in everything. Aurora, the night kin, Sundance’s injury. All of it happened, ultimately, because of her action or inaction.

It was all her fault.

She was wrong, so very wrong, but Sue felt entirely powerless to help.

The once-human looked away in panic, trying to feebly sense someone, anyone, who was as much as considering opposing the ever-growing madness. Almost entirely silence from all around, with only the group of builders, Daisy included, even considering anything.

Please guys, you can do it.

All the while, Sue’s only response to Root’s ever furious shouts was steadily growing anger. At the depersonification, at the slurs, at attempts to speak in the name of those whose deaths hurt the night kin no less than they had hurt anyone else here.

At invoking Duck’s name for hatred.

“OUR COURSE OF ACTION SHOULD BE OBVIOUS TO US ALL! THE PALE LADY DEMANDS US TO ACT, TO STRIKE BACK AGAINST SUCH HERESY AND BARBARISM! US PERMITTING THESE BEASTS TO LIVE WAS A MISTAKE, ONE THAT SHOULD BE RECTIFIED AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!”

In the corner of her eye, Sue saw Daisy and some of the builders nod at each other before the rhino gathered her bearings and rolled her shoulders. Once Root had finally stopped to gather his breath, Daisy rose and interrupted him, her voice raised almost as much as his.

“You cry for so many people to die for the actions of a single bleedin’ owl!?”

“HARDLY, YOU BELLIGERENT FOOL! IT WAS NOT A SINGULAR ATTACK, NO, THEY HAD STRUCK SUNDANCE TO MAKE US FEARFUL, HESITANT TO DO WHAT IS RIGHT! NO MATTER OUR FEARS, I SHALL LEAD US WITH THE PALE LADY’S GUIDANCE TO DO WHAT HAS TO BE DONE!”

“You’ve no idea what you’re talkin’ about, you melodramatic pile of shite! None of this was a coordinated attack by Newmoon as a whole—”

“THEIR FILTHY DEN DOES NOT DESERVE THE NAME OF OUR LADY ABOVE!”

“Shut up! Juniper attacked Sundance on her own, and what happened with Ginger was a bleedin’ accident!”

“TO THINK SUCH UNFATHOMABLE HERESY HAS SPREAD EVEN TO ONES WE RELY ON THE MOST! THESE ARE LIES UTTERED BY THAT MALEVOLENT DEMON, ONES YOUR BAND OF BRUTES HAS CONFIDED IN FOR MUCH TOO LONG. NONE OF YOU ARE TRUSTWORTHY, NOT AFTER HIM FILLING YOU WITH HIS POISON DURING HIS ATTACK ON OUR BEAUTIFUL MOONVIEW!”

“Shut your bloody—”

SILENCE!

Despite Daisy’s determination just moments prior, the explosion of frenzied, purple flame combined with the nigh-deafening shout had finally undone her resolve, especially with nobody else speaking out. Uncertainty, sheer intimidation, it didn’t matter. No matter the cause, the result was the same.

And Sue grew even angrier at that realization.

“I SHALL NOT SUFFER SUCH HERETICAL CLAIMS ANY FURTHER. NONE OF YOU THE TRUTH EXCEPT THROUGH THAT BEAST’S LIES. TO THINK ANY OF YOU TRUSTED HIM EVEN FOR A MOMENT DISGUSTS ME BEYOND WORDS. TRULY, WE NEED TO ACT SWIFTLY AND PURGE THEM, PURGE THEM ALL, LEST THEIR VENOM CORRUPTS MORE OF THE ONES WE ONCE TRUSTED!”

Angrier at Root’s hatred.

“TO LET THEM LIVE, HOWEVER FAR, IS A MERCY THESE BEASTS DO NOT DESERVE, AND A RISK WE CANNOT AFFORD!”

Angrier at Solstice’s paralyzed stillness.

“THEY MUST BE BURNED WITH SACRED FLAME AND THE GROUND LEFT BEHIND SALTED, FOR THEIR DEFILEMENT GOES BEYOND MERE ACTIONS, IT IS THEIR VERY ESSENCE!”

Angrier at Moonview’s inaction in nobody standing up for what was right.

“WE SHOULD MARCH AS SWIFTLY AS WE CAN, AND STRIKE DOWN THE VERMIN AND THEIR FALSE GOD WITH ALL OUR VICIOUS MIGHT, FOR THE PALE LADY DECREES IT!”

Angrier at herself for expecting them to.

Sue shook in place as her fists clenched and teeth ground. She had never felt anywhere near this angry. Fearful, anxious, overwhelmed, yes, plenty, but never actively as furious as she was being right now. None of this was right, and she could barely think.

A wordless urge cried out to her from not just her mind, but her very soul. The very same unfathomable instinct that made her act when Spark and Pollux were about to die, one she had no name for or conscious comprehension of. She remembered acting against it then, desperately trying to overrule it for the sake of her own survival.

But now, Sue felt it grip her entire body, and gave in entirely.

Her breathing grew shallower and shallower as the entirety of her furious mind concentrated on a singular purpose. From where it came from, it didn’t matter in the slightest. All the Forest Guardian knew was that so many innocents were at risk of death because of a single village’s virulent hatred,

And that she couldn’t let it happen.

“LET US COME, THEN! LET US DELIVER UTMOST JUSTICE TO THESE FIENDS FOR STRIKING OUR FRIEND AND FAITH ALIKE-“

LIAR!!!”​

The shout froze the entire gathering as dozens upon dozens of minds focused on a single, incomprehensibly furious one. All Sue knew was that she was floating above the ground all of a sudden,

And that she wasn’t done yet.

SUNDANCE WAS ATTACKED BY JUNIPER ALONE, AND PROVIDED AID BY ALL OF NEWMOON AFTERWARDS! ALL GINGER DID IN MOONVIEW WAS PURGE YOUR FOUL HERESY!”​

No matter how imposing, her voice wouldn’t be able to stand alone, and Sue knew it.

SOLSTICE, YOU WERE THERE! ATTEST MY WORDS!”​

Sue stared where she remembered the other Forest Guardian being, but couldn’t make her own through the blinding flare of her own eyes. She’d spoken with power unlike herself, unlike anything she thought herself ever capable of, with a power that drew from the very core of the being she became.

But would it be enough?

Seconds stretched into ages as the younger Forest Guardian glared into the older one with a force beyond her conscious comprehension. It showed no signs of fading, but the person subsumed by it did, fear beginning to drip into the chamber of emotional superheated plasma that Sue’s mind became. This was all she could do, all she could ever hope to do.

And if it wasn’t enough, if her utter desperation wasn’t enough,

Then what would she even do?

Her mind shook, the motion slowly spreading over to her physical arms. All this wouldn’t last for more than just a handful of moments longer, not with doubt beginning to fill her mind whole. Tears streamed down her contorted face, straight down onto her gritted teeth.

And then, she heard a voice.

Afraid.

Ashamed.

Guilty.

Unwavering.

“^I attest to your words, Sue. Juniper’s attack was an act of momentary aggression, and Newmoon had attempted to capture her afterwards. She is not welcome there, and will not be until she atones for her actions. Ginger had no intention of damaging the Night Mother’s shrine, and Kantaro has no interest in repairing said damages.^”

At last, the choking silence gave way into uncountable murmurs as Sue felt whatever had just possessed her gradually let go. Her body descended until her feet had touched the ground again, followed by her overworked mind letting go of the rest of her. She collapsed on all fours, struggling to catch her breath as many voices surrounded her, in awe, in concern.

Even with Solstice’s translation, she couldn’t understand them.

She couldn’t even understand her own mind right now, not with how utterly the last few moments had fried it.

What the fuck did I just do.

The words and sounds around her kept coming, though fewer and fewer of them were aimed directly at her. Once her head had stopped tormenting her for the act of breathing anymore, Sue finally attempted to sit back down and look at what was going on.

Root stared straight through her in an expression of distilled, mute fury as the discussion continued around him. In any other circumstances, she would’ve shied away; wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eyes for just an instant. But not here. Not now.

I will not let you do this.

Sue gritted her teeth and returned the glare even as her entire rattled, worn-out body shook. She wasn’t a warrior; she wasn’t a hero; she was just an unremarkable, socially stilted comp-sci student of hardly any ability and even less renown.

And yet, she might’ve just saved several lives.

She kept her eyes locked with his for as long as she could, thanking Duck for the badger Elder looking towards one of his fellow council at some point. Her shaking hands tried to hold Spark as closely as possible, but they felt so numb, so uncontrollable. Sue closed her eyes, held the lil’ fox tight and breathed, as deeply as she could. Until she could hear more than just her own heartbeat hammering into her ears, until she regained sensation in her body again, until she could think again.

One, two, three.

Warmth in front of her, on her chest, pressing into her stomach. Unbearable pressure all over her body, one of a spring wound much too tight.

Four, five, six.

Noise began to fray into individual sounds, still too hard to make heads and tails of. Vague warmth became the sensation of Spark’s soft fur and wet nose. Her shoulders loosened; her hands weren’t just a blur anymore.

Seven, eight.

Twinkle squirmed against her, and Spark calmed down, bit by bit. She unclenched her jaw, and straightened her back. Words, all around her. ‘Newmoon’, ‘Juniper’, ‘punishment’, ‘Sundance’. ‘Discussion’, ‘aid’, ‘mistake’, ‘support’.

‘Forest Guardian’.

‘Sue’.

Nine, ten.

Sue held the little fox down as she finished coming to, the discussion still ongoing. A plan along the steps of Solstice’s and Sundance’s initial idea back in Newmoon. Aid and reconciliation. Remarks about all this having gone on for long enough that Moonview was going insane and rewriting history.

Less so Moonview as a whole and more so specific actors, but... good enough.

She focused her eyes and took the scene in. Many were surprised or engaged, including a fair bit of the audience. Daisy and Splitleaf chattered; Orchid looked around uncomfortably. Equinox occasionally chimed in. Some others talked, some others didn’t.

Willow sat silently, aghast.

Root’s rage burned in silence, overpowered for once.

Solstice.

The older Forest Guardian contributed to the discussion while putting on as composed an appearance as she could manage. Underneath it all, pain and guilt, leaking into her stoic expression every time she looked in Sue’s direction.

She didn’t have any idea why—

Gasps, rattling, chaos, shuffling, all behind her. Sue tried to look, to figure out what was going on, but she didn’t have to.

She heard it first.

“Don’t you dare YOU BASTARDS-GAH!

And moments later, the loud thud of Sundance collapsing just mere feet away from her, followed by a large stick following in tow next to her.

“MOM!”

The little fox raced over to the mystic, and Sue wasn’t far behind, immediately kneeling beside her. Her arms convulsed as her teeth gritted in pain. Both sensations paled compared to the singular, determined drive in her mind; one conveyed to Sue with the most strained telepathy she’d ever felt from the vixen.

“^Sue, they’ll try to justify revenge in my name, d-don’t let—^”

“It’s, it’s okay, Sundance. It’s over, it’s over, they—they won’t do that.”

The firefox’s shock was downright palpable as she tried lifting herself back up onto her knees, her shaking glare sweeping along the gathered elders. Shock, fury, guilt, the latter even more acute than when Sue looked at the Mayor. So much was left unexplained, but Sue seemed to be right.

It was already over.

“D-do you need help, Sundance?”

A wordless, pained nod. Telekinesis or not, Sue wasn’t about to leave her there. She kneeled beside the vixen, waiting for her mentor to lean on her.

Heavy, but not impossible.

With utmost strain, Sue pushed herself onto her legs as the vixen’s body cooperated to whatever extent it was capable of. They turned around in a few slow motions, before heading away from the meeting, one shaky step at a time. Spark woofed at her mom constantly, and each time Sundance replied in kind, their words an enigma.

Sue still wasn’t sure if she truly felt like herself again after what had just happened. Regardless of that, though, her emotions were clear, and growing clearer still with every step away from the discussing mass and into the relative quiet of nighttime Moonview.

She was happy.

She wanted to cry for days.

“I’m, I’m so glad you’re back, Sundance, I—”

“^It’s alright, Sue. I-ah-I suppose a lot happened when I was gone, hasn’t-ugh!

“D-do you want me to slow down?”

“^Just a bit. Feels like I-mHnnn-I can barely control one limb at a time. I’ll make it there, it’ll just take a while.^”

“T-to your dwelling?”

“^No.^”

Sue looked at the vixen’s pained expression in the darkness, surprised at the answer.

“^Solstice’s tent is closer, we can-agh!-we can sit down in front of it. Turn left.^”

The Forest Guardian followed the directions as she tried to wash the last remnants of her outburst out of her system. To her disappointment, the more she succeeded, the more tired she simply became.

“^And a lot has happened to you as well, hasn’t it, Sue?^”

“Y-yeah, it has.”

“^Someone, even.^”

Sundance inspected the bundle tied around Sue’s chest with as much curiosity as she could manage with it constantly being interrupted with pain.

“Their name is Twinkle, and... Solstice mentioned you’d know more about what they are.”

“^Well, let’s see about that.^”

The vixen closed her eyes to focus as they all shambled forward. Sue was about to speak up that there was no point and that, to the best of her knowledge, Twinkle couldn’t speak—but by then, it already was too late.

“^Good evening, Twinkle.^”

If nothing else, Sue appreciated the nicety. Having them be treated as any other child would help a lot in making them feel less weird going forward, even if they wouldn’t be able to do certain—

H-hello...



If you're confused about the species of the characters and want them spoiled, I've set up a page listing the species of all the featured characters in each chapter!

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Chapter 25: Acceptance


Chapter 25: Acceptance



Hearing the weak, ephemeral voice almost toppled them both over, primarily because of Sue freezing in place out of shock. Thankfully, she snapped out of it shortly after, even doubling down on her pace just to find a spot to rest sooner. The sudden shift was rather amusing to the firefox, though she didn’t comment on it—she had to save all the breath she had for walking.

One strained, shambled corner later, Solstice’s tent finally came into view. And with it, somewhere to sit down at.

Neither Sue nor Sundance knew how they’d managed to make it down onto the grass without outward collapsing, but they accomplished it all the same. Their only reward was a scene so dark they could only barely make each other out—aside from the very faint glow emanating from the eyes of everyone gathered, the only source of light was a single fireball on a pole a few dozen yards away.

Above them, uncountable stars and a thin crescent moon. Around them, slightly chilly air of the late spring evening.

With them, much pain, much strain, much aching of the still-injured chest-mounted extremity...

And a tiny, ghostly child, understandable at last.

“Hello, Twinkle. A-are you okay?”

Sue’s voice quivered as she focused the entirety of her attention on the bundle tied around her torso, stroking it with one hand. Just to her side, Spark was getting comfortable on her mom’s lap, valiantly holding back tears of relief at her finally being back. Said mom was focusing harder than she should have in her current state, but if not for her efforts, the confounding mess of thoughts and emotions swirling inside the canvas bag would remain completely incomprehensible.

She’d live.

“Y-yes. Confused...”

As the once-human held the bundle of ghost closer, and the bundle of ghost held her back, she realized she couldn’t hear their voice. She could perceive it, she heard it in her mind, but there didn’t seem to be a physical—

“Yes, that’s on me. They aren’t talking like we are, their thoughts are still messy and I’m having to do some interpretation to get the meaning from them.”

On the other hand, Sue heard the barked sounds underlining Sundance’s words clearly. She wasn’t sure how to respond to her revelation, settling on thanking her with a curt nod before refocusing on Twinkle.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, sweetie. Here, lemme unwrap you.”

Sue’s arms shook as she untied the weak knot holding the dirty bag to her body. Lil’ one’s ghostly tentacles immediately wrapped themselves around her. The sight made her pause for a bit before reaching to hold the hauntling with one hand as the other kept freeing them, just to let them know she was still there for them.

And that she would always be, for as long as she could.

Once they were down on her lap, they took a few moments to come to afterwards—doubly so, with the bag’s opening pointing straight up at their guardian—but once they did, they only clung closer.

“Hey Twinkle. I’m—”

Sue paused mid-word, mind tearing itself between the two equally valid answers to that question. Or rather, one truthful answer, and one she wished so very much she could say in the moment, but which still felt both harmful to admit to herself, and impossible to ever accomplish.

“I’m Sue. We’re here for you sweetie, everything will be alright.”

While Sue was laser focused on keeping them as happy as she could after what they’d gone through, Sundance... had questions, ones that would hopefully help. She waited until she was sure that the lil’ ghost had understood Sue’s response, however much of it they could even understand, before chiming in as well.

“Hello there, Twinkle. My name is Sundance. You ran into Sue earlier, right?”

The vixen’s words had the ghostly child first shrink at hearing the unfamiliar voice, and then shift focus over to the warm stranger. As simple as the question was, their answer took its time to arrive, making the vixen worry about potentially translating it incorrectly.

“Not remember...”

The response concerned both women; Sue’s affection only growing more tender. She wanted to help somehow, but had no idea what to ask, ultimately resigning that task to Sundance. Spark, meanwhile, felt it appropriate to point out the obvious—

“But Sue found you earlier, right Sue? And and and then she carried you around!”

Her loud tone had Twinkle withdraw some more, but their guardian’s presence helped immensely in maintaining composure.

“Spark, sweetie, let’s give them some more space, okay? They’re clearly lost. Now, Twinkle—what do you remember?”

A pair of Sue’s fingers were tenderly holding one of the ghost’s tentacle-like limbs as they shook at the mystic’s question. An overprotective part of her wanted to sweep in and shield them away from any further questioning. Then again, she knew full well that getting an idea of what they were and needed, and how their shapeless species worked, was an important task, too.

Sundance knows what to do, let’s just leave it to her.

“Remember... Sue. Many voices... sleep... two Sue...”


The phrasing had the vixen scrunch her features in confusion as she tried to parse it—only for her student to crack it first.

“Solstice came by when I was sitting with them. D-do you mean another person who looked like me, Twinkle?”

A full body, bag-shuffling nod.

Yes...

“Do you remember anything prior to that?”

Sue thought it weird if they wouldn’t. She’d spent so much time chatting with Lilly, and then earlier resting beside Joy and Astra, no way Twinkle would just forget—

“N-no good remember. Bad remember...”

For an instant, Sue was about to hold them even tighter at the implication of them having been in pain throughout that entire period. Sundance cut in right after, though, clarifying it for everyone.

“They mean they don’t remember well, Sue. Did anything important happen while you were with Solstice? And for you, Twinkle—could you say what you remember of those poor memories?”

The explanation released the tension from Sue’s body before it could build any further, in a form of a very shaky exhale. The question that followed was one she wasn’t sure how to answer; it sure didn’t feel like she’d done much with them at that specific point. Finding them was important, as was comforting them, then Hazel helping everyone figure out they were a ghost, but anything to do with Solstice?

All I’ve done after that gloomy chat was—

...

Was give them a name.

“Before... everything weird. M-me not here. No thinking... scared, scared scared... nothing...”


Sue was thankfully spared from having to go over the day’s events out loud, the vixen’s focus managing to pull all it needed from the whirlpool of her thoughts. Sundance knew well that she only had a fragmentary picture, but couldn’t help but be sadder at this little ghost.

Seems they had only really woken up once given a name.

“I-I’m so sorry, Twinkle. I promise, you’re safe here, we’re here for you.”

Nothing the hauntling had said was reassuring, and every single word made her want to only hold them tighter. They entirely mirrored that desire, clinging close to her hands and waist as their baggy body shook.

“Sue nice... S-Sue like?”

“Y-yes, of course I like you, sweetie. I’m not going anywhere.”

Such a simple, trivial affirmation, and yet it did wonders for Twinkle. They calmed down as affection kept coming from their large guardian, each word and each stroke melting through all the fear rocking their shapeless body.

“Not know who me... Sue nice... now me Twinkle... thank you...”

“You’re—sniff—you’re very welcome sweetie.”

The battle with her own tears was one Sue lost almost instantly. Only a few of them this time, in tow with an emotional, shaky smile. As much as Spark didn’t want to leave her mom even for a moment, not now, she dared relocate over to the edge of her lap and reach over to provide her own affection with a single, shaky paw. A brief, fearful flinch, followed by warm relief.

Goodness, do they need it. Do all of us need it.

Sundance wanted to ask them a couple more questions, but was well aware they could wait until tomorrow. Mirroring her daughter, she reached over with her left arm, pulling the Forest Guardian over to lean on her.

“Th-thank you—”

squeak!

The sound was rather muffled, but both women were familiar enough with it to know exactly who had made it. Before they could even finish turning their heads towards Solstice’s tent, its only other permanent occupant had already parted its entrance open. Said occupant then proceeded to dash towards their little gathering for a few paces, before slowing down to a waddle, and then further into a crawl.

All the emotions happening outside might’ve been enough to wake Comet up, especially without his mom around him, but he was still a tired lil’ Moon Child. One that, after the past couple of days, really needed the happiness his big friend and Sundance were radiating.

Sue scooped him up into her arms before he could even finish crawling over. The lil’ psychic rewarded her with his clumsiest hug yet, as well as a drawn-out gurgle that then turned into a yawn the longer he was held.

“Hey, Comet. W-wonder how’d you get out of your cot, heh... did you wanna chat with us?”

squeak!

“Seems so. It’s very late for you, Comet. You shouldn’t be staying up this late.”

He might not have understood much of Sundance’s words, but it was still enough for him to respond with the world’s most ineffectual attempt to shake his little head. The sight drew laughs from the vixen and her student alike—and even Spark once she’d pushed through her own increasing drowsiness to make out what was happening around her.

With a ruffle of his hair, responded to with more weak shaking, the Forest Guardian slowly lowered the psychic infant onto her lap, trying to lay him down on the edge of her lap, so that his head would rest on a tuft of the vixen’s fur.

And the instant she’d done so, his uncoordinated arms grabbed the closest source of emotional warmth they could sense, and held it close.

Twinkle’s startle at being held was noticeable to the assorted psychics, but soon eased out after nothing bad kept happening. Because nothing bad would happen now. Sue was there for them; others accepted and liked them even with them being... like this. They had a shape; they had a name; they could finally think; they could...

Be.

Comet was too drowsy to spot the pitch-black tentacles wrapping around him, but he enjoyed the sensation all the same. And so did the lil’ ghost, all the relief and comfort making their own stressed exhaustion all the more apparent.

They must’ve gone through so much...

Neither Sue nor Sundance spoke for a while afterwards, both gently comforting the little ones on their lap as Moonview sank deeper and deeper into the night. It wasn’t getting any darker now, but it was getting colder, making Sue lean further on the vixen—to the latter’s amusement.

Both of them had so much to talk about. They also both needed to catch their breath, chew through what they’d seen, think of what to even say.

No matter what they had on their mind, though, someone showing up in this remote corner of the village caught their attention first. They weren’t glowing, but the distant light still illuminated just enough of the blue compound eyes and red chitin to let Sue recognize them as the ladybug that had been hostile to her earlier in the day—

And for them to recognize her and, most importantly, Sundance in return.

Surprise, anger, fear—all of them sudden enough to give Sue whiplash and make Comet mumble in his dreams. None of them acted on beyond the ladybug in question turning around and buzzing away from them in a straight line.

“What’s up with them?”

Even if they were one of the least intimidating people in Moonview, it still felt unnerving to have a local be so angry at her. Root was one thing, a case she compartmentalized enough to not be in paralyzing fear all the time. The asshole badger made sense to be furious, especially now.

But them? All I’ve done is grab food from them a couple of times and suddenly they’re glaring at me like they wanna eat me.

“Sunrise is a... sad, yet silly situation.”

The word ‘silly’ really didn’t fit either Sundance’s manner of speaking, nor the insect in question, only catching Sue’s attention more.

“How so?”

“They are unable to speak.”

“Y-yeah, Solstice told me that. Why does that m—”

“They were a hatchling when the plague arrived. Thankfully, they survived, but much of their respiratory system was damaged and left them mute. Unfortunate. However... they’ve been blaming the night kin for that fact ever since. I suppose it’s a more understandable source of grief than with most others, but prejudiced all the same.”

Sue couldn’t argue with that, cringing at the entire situation.

“That’s rough.”

“It is. Alas. If nothing else, a reminder that suffering doesn’t ennoble us. It only scars us.”

With Sunrise gone, the little corner of Moonview grew quiet again, filled only with the irregular breaths of the three sleeping children and the adults looking after them. Calm enough to have brought Sue to her own rest, if not for everything on her mind.

And good Duck, was there a lot on her mind.

Sundance was very aware of that, having gotten a brief glimpse of the underlying murk when Sue hesitated giving her name to Twinkle. It was time to tackle it, at last.

“How have you been, Sue? Much unpleasantness must’ve happened while I was unconscious.”

“That’s... yeah. Though it’s not just that, it’s—”

Sue caught herself mid sentence, analyzing the situation. If there was anyone she could be open about this, all this with, it was the vixen. Someone with friendly relations, but only that. Someone that wouldn’t be immediately hurt by her revealing what had been eating her up for the good while now.

And yet, she still hesitated.

This all hurts, it all hurts so fucking much to approach. But I know I have to.

For Joy, for Twinkle, for Lilly, for Solstice.


“And for yourself, too.”

Sundance completing her thought would’ve made Sue jump in her seat if not for the weight of two tykes pinning her down. She turned to stare at the darkness where her mentor ought to be, eyes as wide as they could get—and received quiet, woofing laughter in response.

“Apologies, it is hard to not overhear with just us two and this clearly eating you up so much.”

“It—it is, yeah.”

The once-human looked away in embarrassment, one hand gently stroking Twinkle’s bag as she searched for words to drape her agonizing worries in. None of them made any sense with just the stuff Sundance already knew, forcing Sue to reveal a bit more of her hand.

“Y-you know how I... arrived from a different world entirely?”

“It’s still hard to really grasp.”

“Yeah. A-and I... I have knowledge that I will eventually have to go back there.”

Sue saw the vixen’s dimly glowing eyes turn to look at her, coming together into a surprised expression.

“What ‘kind’ of knowledge?”

“I-I can’t elaborate, I’m sorry. B-but it’s not that I’m afraid of coming back, it’s...”

Her hand kept dishing affection to the two kids on her lap, the barely visible motions cluing the vixen in.

“Joy and—and Twinkle, and Lilly, a-and even Solstice all... I already feel close to them. I r-really care for them, and I think they care for me too, and now that I know I’ll eventually leave them it all feels so awful and I don’t know if I’m hurting them by being close and caring of them if I’m just gonna disappear and leave them alone and betrayed and—”

The steadily growing pain in Sue’s heart forced her to stop. She couldn’t take it, this enormity of the loss awaiting her, awaiting them all. It felt like it was devouring her mind, subsuming each neuron one by one and replacing it with anxious despair with a sprinkling of guilt.

Sundance, however, drew… a different interpretation.

“So... death.”

What!?

“No, I wouldn’t be dead, I would just be gone and—”

“I did not mean a literal death, Sue. Merely that, just like death, you... ‘returning to your world’ would be a permanent change that forever separates you from the ones you care for here. One you dread, and which you fear could strike at any moment.”

Sue was left reeling even after the elaboration, but the more she thought about it, the harder it was to disagree with that comparison. It really would be just like dying. Sure, she as a person would keep on living back on Earth—presumably—but to everyone here, she would as well be dead. A slightly different, but much more familiar frame of mind.

Equally terrifying.

“I... I guess.”

Sundance’s soft chuckle relieved some of the tension of the scene, especially as she followed it up with a couple pats on the back. Sue really needed them, as hard as that fact was to admit to herself. As if in response to that very thought, the pats were upgraded to one arm wrapping around her shoulders and holding her tight.

...

Yeah, that was in response to my thought, wasn’t it.

As if there was any doubt, the vixen laughed right after, the sound eventually spreading to Sue. Her laughter was nervous and somewhat forced, but still helped, even if a bit.

“Do I wish I had my pipe with me. Just the right thing for chewing through conundrums like these.”

Sue considered offering her help for all of a quarter of a second before remembering that she neither had any idea how to find Sundance’s home in the dark, nor a clue about where the firefox even held the pipe in her dwelling.

“I’ll make do, don’t worry Sue.”

On cue, the once-human heard a faint snapping sound behind her and looked around to investigate—only to see a small stick enveloped by an orange shimmer, hovering towards the vixen’s grasp.

And then, Sundance bit a solid half of it off with a single crunch, lit up one end of the remaining piece, and put the other in her mouth as if it was a pretend cigar, switching to telepathy while she chewed through literal wood.

“^Does the ‘death’ framing help with these fears?^”

The question reaching Sue’s mind snapped her out of staring at what in the world her mentor was doing, and back to the subject at hand.

“I-I’m not sure. I guess it’s a bit like death, but that doesn’t help much. I still worry that I shouldn’t be doing... any of this, like I shouldn’t even be getting to know anyone here because when I leave, they’ll just be suddenly left alone again. Like I just hurt people in the long run when I get close to any of them...”

As genuine as Sue’s words were, she continued to defy her worries by constantly petting the little sleeping ghost on her lap.

Which didn’t go by the vixen unnoticed.

“^And yet, you keep doing it.^”

Sue felt called out, freezing in place. Her heart hammered as if trying to break free, all the shame suddenly returning in force to torment her all at once.

I’m hurting them all I’m hurting them all I’m hurting them all they’re gonna suffer because of—

snap


The faint clicking noise instantaneously broke Sue out of her spiraling anxiety, drawing her attention to the barely visible paw in front of her face.

“^I apologize, Sue. Making you feel cornered wasn’t my intent. However, I believe it remains a fair point, but not one you should admonish yourself over. That helps nobody. Instead, I want you to focus and give me an honest answer about why do you think you keep doing it.^”

The vixen’s sudden gesture might’ve derailed her train of thought for a moment, but the anxiety from which it had emerged didn’t suddenly disappear. Still, Sundance’s calm tone helped a lot, giving Sue something to focus on besides just wailing on herself more and more. That didn’t mean it was easy thinking about it as opposed to criticizing herself further, but at least it felt possible now.

It didn’t help that Sue couldn’t think of an answer.

“I-I don’t know, I—there isn’t a big reason, I don’t think. It’s all just been a very spur-of-the-moment thing. Like, Joy ended up with us at the clinic by accident and she wanted comfort and I gave it and we grew closer, a-and Twinkle just... saw me and disguised themselves as Comet and wanted me to find them, and Lilly... felt like she liked me.”

“^She does.^”

“It’s... it’s moment to moment stuff, there isn’t any real plan, just me... being clingy, I guess.”

Even the framing of a more helpful, logical question couldn’t withstand the barrage of Sue’s loathing forever, and it was getting treacherously close to establishing control over her again. On cue, the vixen pulled her in again, holding her that bit more firmly.

“^You’ve done nothing wrong, Sue. I know you know that too, deep down, but I also know how it helps to have someone else say these words. And so, I repeat: you’ve done nothing wrong.”^"

Again, the reassurances helped greatly, even if it would take a while for the shift to really be noticeable to the once-human herself. For the time being, she just nodded idly, trying to maintain control over her breathing throughout.

“^In light of that, I have a broader question, if you don’t mind.^”

“G-go ahead.”

“^What do you strive for in life?^”

Everything the vixen had asked previously might have been various degrees of confounding to anxiety-inducing, but this one... Sue had no idea whatsoever. It was one of those questions that Sue never treated seriously, because in every other circumstance, they felt either in bad faith, as an excuse to have her join a cult, or like the person asking didn’t really care about what she answered. Neither of these was the case here, and so the once-human had to at least attempt to answer.

Even if all she could think of was ‘none of the above’.

“N-nothing. There’s nothing I even could strive for. Basically, my entire life back—back in my world—has taken place without my input. I’ve just been carried by these currents that I couldn’t fight, went along with what people wanted me to do. School, now college, then work, hell even my emotions, it feels like sometimes. I-It just feels like there’s nothing I can strive for because there’s nothing I can do to change anything. I’m just... powerless.”

Sue gathered her thoughts, summing them all up with a grumbled line, the topic bringing forth a mix of anger and resignation.

“How the fuck can I strive for anything if there’s bloody nothing I can even do...”

Some concepts were unfamiliar to the vixen, some she’d really want to ask about sometime... but not now. Because no matter what had motivated Sue’s understandable response,

It was incorrect.

“^I disagree.^”

The unexpectedly curt, somewhat ambiguous reply snapped Sue out of her preemptive moping and drove her attention over to the fox. Just in time to see her bite off what remained of her stick and levitate another one over.

“D-disagree with what?”

“^You being powerless.^”

I mean... of course you would in a magical, medieval world like this.

“Y-yeah, because I know this world isn’t like mine and I could just get up and go wherever I can and all that.”

Her pupil’s exasperation was amusing, enough so to make the vixen laugh quietly, despite Sue’s bad-faith response.

“^Could you?^”

Sue didn’t expect to be challenged on that, stammering as she tried to clarify.

“I-I mean, not me me, but most others wh-who aren’t hurt could—”

“^Could they? They’d still have to uproot significant chunks of, if not their entire lives, for that purpose. Leave Moonview’s safety—unequal as it is—and expose themselves to the dangerous world, without others to fall back on. Even if many who live here would be reasonably safe from predation, that’s hardly the only risk if they were to just get up and venture out into the world.^”

The once-human got increasingly annoyed by the vixen’s words. It felt as if Sundance was intentionally missing the point in an uncalled-for, mocking way, so unlike her. No matter how much that freedom might’ve been fleeing here, it was still much more so than most people had back home, and of course those here had much more of it.

“Hard to believe that, since almost everyone in Moonview seems to have come from somewhere else...”

“^Well, you’re obviously not going to meet anyone who has failed at that. Who had left their home, but didn’t make it before finding a safe place.^”

...

That... wasn’t a point Sue had considered before.

The long buried knowledge of her statistics class chimed in just to remark that this kind of error probably had its own name, but she couldn’t remember it on the spot. She was left stunned as she tried to parse the implications of these words, letting Sundance continue.

“^Most here had only taken that risk because their home, for one reason or another, had grown to be worse than the risk of braving the world. I can assure you, almost nobody here would ever consider leaving Moonview unless things got dramatically worse. Your thoughts aren’t exactly subtle about how entrapping you feel your world is, and I doubt ours is as bad, but they’re not that different, Sue.^”

Despite Sundance not raising her voice even slightly throughout all that, Sue felt as if she’d gotten schooled hard. A re-affirmation of the vixen’s side hug helped, but she still had no idea how to respond at the moment.

And so, the firefox continued.

“^I know how that powerlessness feels. The feeling of being guided through life along a predetermined path, of being a spectator in one’s own life... isn’t a new one to me. As pervasive and paralyzing as that sensation is, and as true as it might sometimes be, it won’t remain so forever. Even if it really doesn’t feel like it, each of us has many small decisions throughout our daily lives that can leave a lasting impact. Doing something nice for a friend. Following one’s curiosity. Helping someone when they’re down.^”

That last possibility made Sue lean in closer to the child on her lap as her touch grew shaky.

“^For the most part, they really are small, and they won’t matter in the grand scheme of things. But sometimes, they will. Sometimes, even an off-handed decision can change someone’s life, for good or ill. It can even change our lives. These opportunities come all the time, and even if most won’t amount to anything, some will. Be it an impactful small thing or just an ordinary important decision, there are only very few unfortunate souls out there that are truly powerless. For everyone else, I believe knowing what one strives for is important. So that when an opportunity like that comes, be it large or not, we know what we really want and can act on that.^”

The once-human remained silent, slowly parsing and comprehending everything the vixen had said, to various results. Before she could catch up, Sundance continued.

“^I wasn’t referring to deciding on some arbitrary goal earlier or some transcendent concept. Whether we’re aware of it or not, deep down, we all have a longing inside us. Devotion to a deity, a craving to see the world, a sense of duty to someone, even just wanting to be happy. They can all guide us if they’re what we really want, deep down. Digging into yourself, coming to terms with your subconscious desires, elevating that from our soul’s call to our mind’s command—it’s hard. It’s very hard. And yet, it’s oh so important, because if one doesn’t know what they want, what they truly desire... they inevitably end up being swept along someone else’s path. Someone else’s desires. And more often than not—^”

After crunching through what remained of yet another stick and grabbing a third one to snack on, the vixen resumed.

“^—it will be a path to misery.^”

The longer explanation made more sense in Sue’s mind, but she still wasn’t entirely convinced yet. Much of it wasn’t sitting quite right, but before she could put that disconnect to words, a question from earlier made a reprise.

“^So, Sue. What do you want to do? To be?^”

Sue’s brain tried to wriggle away from that kind of introspection, immediately bringing up the most obvious concern—

“Wh-what if I choose wrong?”

“^What then?^”

The instant response bluescreened the once-human’s mind for a moment, leaving her utterly uncertain what to do but to persist in case she was misunderstood.

“I-I’m asking you that!”

“^And I’m asking you!^”

Sue was entirely lost now, her confusion bringing the already amused vixen to soft laughter. Still, it was important to address, and that’s what the mystic did.

“^Our desires can be incorrect. They can betray us; they can harm others. Sometimes, the best thing we can do is dig into ourselves and figure out what we desire, and then work on ourselves to change that. But even for that, we need to be aware of what we want before we can work on changing it. Hiding from our desires won’t do us any good, because whether we’re willing to acknowledge them or not, they’re there all the same. They can change, they will change, they should change. What truly matters is being attuned to their cries. Being able to reach into one’s soul and see what comes out.^”

The follow-up answered the most glaring detail in Sue’s mind, leaving her with no choice but to finally face the question once more.

“^Again. What do you want to be, Sue?^”

The words thrashed around in the Forest Guardian’s head like a rabid Earth animal.

She’d gotten so disconnected from any thoughts of that sort that answering it felt downright impossible. What she wanted deep down never mattered, never could matter; she had always just been a cog in a machine so large that her getting removed from it would never be noticed by anyone.

And yet, she still had to face it all the same. There was one somewhat obvious thread she could see. It wasn’t the entire truth, but it at least was in the right direction.

Suppose I can just go with it for now.

“I-I wanna... I wanna be happy, I think.”

“^Happy. That’s a good start. Has interacting with those you’ve bonded with so far made you happy? With Twinkle and others?^”

The answer was the most obvious ‘yes’ in Sue’s life, but framing it like that felt like a downright deceitful oversimplification.

“Y-yes, but what about when I’m gone? Won’t I hurt them even more by bonding with them just to then disappear? How hurt will they be when that happens!?”

“^How hurt will you be?^”

Sundance’s abrupt response felt as if an icicle had stabbed Sue’s skull. She froze, nigh-paralyzed, almost unable to think as she tried to focus on the eventual fate of the one person she hadn’t considered in that worst-case scenario—herself. Her brain almost refused to consider that idea because of how much despair it brought within her.

Despair or not, though... she’d probably be fine in the end. She’d already lost those she loved twice. If needed, she’d endure life taking a third swing at her with a bat full of nails. It’d hurt, hurt so fucking much, but... she’d be fine. She would always be fine.

Even if she obviously wouldn’t be fine.

“I-I’ll make it, a-and I guess Lilly and Solstice would too. B-but I’m worried about the k—Joy and Twinkle. They’ll be heartbroken. They already feel so close to me and I don’t even know for how long I’ll remain here.”

“^Well... that’s already happened, hasn’t it? If they’re already close to you and you want them to not be in as much pain once you’re gone, you can try to expose them to different people, steer their attachment to someone else.^”

Something deep inside Sue screamed at that thought, which her mind then disguised in a reasonable enough objection.

“Th-that doesn’t feel possible w-with how attached and scared T-Twinkle is, and Astra will be leaving Joy with me for a few days now, so I won’t be able to do that.”

“^Why not? You can still have them meet other people that would take care of them even if they aren’t truly ready to be cared for by someone else yet. In the meantime, you can build them up to be more independent and courageous, so that they’ll fare without you better. How does that sound?^”

It was an entirely rhetorical question, and knowingly so.

She felt the despair within Sue the instant she brought up that possibility, and now that she’d elaborated upon it, it only swelled further. The vixen could tell that her pupil obviously wanted the latter—she wanted the little ones under her care to be independent and courageous, to be their own people—but the former, the idea of withdrawing away from them and having someone else be their guardian... was heartbreaking. She was well aware.

But it was Sue that had to consciously admit that to herself.

“^You don’t want others to look after them instead of you, do you?^”

A direct question provided a lifeline that Sue’s despairing mind greedily clung to. Tears flowed freely down her scowling face as she nodded weakly, making Sundance push whichever psychics she had access to, and envelop her student in a warm, full-body mental hug. Sue needed it, but she also needed to be honest with herself.

“^You want to be their guardian, now and forever, don’t you?^”

“Yes, but I-I-sniff-I don’t w-wanna hurt them-sniff—”

“^You haven’t hurt them, Sue. You have likely saved Twinkle’s life, and even from the little I got to see, Joy has soared and been slowly coming out of her shell under your care. I promise you’ve done nothing wrong, Sue. Do you know when you’d be returning to your world, if such a thing will happen?^”

“N-no... sniff

“^Then spend your days with them as if they were your last. Love with your entire heart, encourage them towards courage and independence, do what you can to soften the inevitable blow if you think you might be gone soon. Don’t leave them, don’t distance yourself from them, because they care for you as much as you care for them. You’ve been doing so much good Sue, and even if the worst happens, even if you disappear literally tonight, their lives will still be made so much better for having known you. Besides, we’ll all still be here, ready to console them and pick up the mantle.^”

The reassurance helped, but it could only do so much, and it sure wouldn’t be enough to sweeten all the truth it was delivered with. It only hurt her more; it only brought more pain; the torment of a purifying flame forcibly cleansing her mind. The muck in Sue’s head wouldn’t go down without a fight, without flailing as it burned.

And the vixen was ready to take it all on.

“B-b-but what about L-Lilly? I’ve b-been lying to her b-by-sniff-by not telling her, she’d never want a-anything to do with me if-sniff-if she knew I could just disappear—”

“^Everyone can just disappear, Sue. That’s how life is. Fickle and unpredictable, sometimes it just ends without rhyme or reason, for the dumbest and most tragic of reasons. And yet, we have to live through it. We don’t constantly think about all the ways in which our lives can end at any point, and neither should we.^”

Sue wasn’t convinced, almost calming her breathing enough to respond—only for her mentor to butt in.

“^Has knowing Lilly and being close with her made you happy?^”

“Y-yes—”

“^Has it made her happy?^”

Despite all the muck going through Sue’s mind, she couldn’t deny being certain of the answer to that.

“Yes, b-but—”

“^Do you want to get closer with her, get to know her more, go beyond that blissful infatuation?^”

“Yes—”

“^Then why not? Why not do what makes both of you happy? Why would you choose not to brighten your days more? I know you’ve said that this ‘return’ isn’t really death, but it might as well be. And as with any death, you can’t let it take control over you. You have one life to fill with happiness and you’ve been bloody good about that, if I may say so. You’ve brought them all comfort, joy, care, even love. You’ve done so many good things, made so many lives better, and we both know you want to keep doing that. You can’t let death stop you from living your life.^”

And then, one final blow that brought what remained of the once-human’s composure down.

“^You deserve happiness, Sue, and you’ve done nothing wrong.^”

Sue’s slow trickle of tears grew to an all out wailing. She kept trying to think through Sundance’s words, to come up with responses, but it was hard; it was so fucking hard. Her worst fear had been laid bare for her. Her desire to be these poor kids’ guardian, her rapidly blooming crush on Lilly, all forcefully shoved into her face. She’d been running away from all this for so long, from the truth she’d been trying to suppress, but she couldn’t do so forever.

I don’t want to go back.

Even now, with her entire mind brought to a white-hot heat, that still felt so difficult to admit.

And the same went for each of her individual desires that had led up to that conclusion, stripped of any layers of self deprecation or distance from what she really felt. It was so incredibly hard to overcome the thrashing part of her mind, the demon that always invalidated her desires before they could bloom, whose only purpose was pointing at her worst parts and using them to ‘justify’ why her wants were bad and she ought to feel bad for them.

But this time, she felt like she’d managed that feat, even if for a moment. She’d looked all the way into herself, into her very soul—or rather, was forcibly shoved in there by the firefox beside her—and came face to face with what she desired, stripped of her conscious mind’s negative self-perception.

It felt liberating; it felt terrifying.

Even if she was aware of almost all of her hidden desires now, that still didn’t change the fact that she wasn’t in control and that she could lose them all. Before that realization could drag her into a dark, painful pit, she thought back to what Sundance had said earlier, about these small decisions that could matter, the choices. She tried clinging to them as much as she could, hoping that the desire to never come back would ever amount to anything—

Even if she knew all too well that it wouldn’t.

Still, she pushed on, shouted the loudest internal ‘LALALA’ of her life to suppress that truth. Hopeless or not, she would persevere, and despite knowing just how powerless she was, she wouldn’t let it stop her from being happy, from being there for those she cared about.

Sue had absolutely no idea whether that resolve would survive until the next morning—or even until her next yawn—but if nothing else, she had something to come back to, a conviction to copy at her darkest moments, however ineffectually.

That was all just in case for the future, and now...

Now, Sue was utterly exhausted.

By the time she’d returned to the reality around her, she realized her head was buried in Sundance’s shoulder fluff, its warmth contrasting with the surrounding coldness. Her mind was a mess; it’d likely never stop being a mess, but... it was a slightly cleaner mess now. She’d finally dared clean up the pile of dirty dishes that had been left to fester for way too long, and as much as it sucked, at least she knew what color her cupboard was again now.

And just how much she wanted to stay in this wild world where so few things made sense.

“^Hello, Sue.^”

Sundance’s telepathic voice, coming back after what felt like hours, had the Forest Guardian slowly pick herself back up into something approximating a sitting position. One of her arms was still embraced around her, while her other paw rested on the side of Comet’s head, gently stroking it.

Oh shoot, I hope I haven’t woken him up—

“^No, you haven’t. I won't deny that it required a lot of effort to keep him asleep. Are you feeling better after all this?^”

As soggy, worn down, and utterly, completely drained as Sue felt after everything she’d just been through... yes, she was. She’d still need a good night’s rest to really make that better feeling come through, though.

“I-I think so.”

“^Good, good. This... hurts, I’m well aware, but that only makes it more important to face. Or, at least, that’s how I always thought about it.^”

“M-mhm.”

Sundance chuckled at Sue’s mumbled response, lightly patting her on the shoulder.

“^Sounds like someone could really use some rest now, couldn’t she?^”

Sue rolled her eyes, only for the blink that followed to last much longer than she thought it would.

Yeah, it’s time to—

“Sue?”

Solstice’s voice caught both women off guard, Sundance even more so than Sue. They couldn’t see much of the older Forest Guardian in the darkness, but the little they made out painted a picture that was almost as soggy as her pupil.

“Are you okay, Sue?”

“I’m—I’m alright...”

The response wasn’t satisfying, but neither of the three were deluded enough to expect anything better by now. One aching step after another, the Mayor had walked over to Sundance’s other side and sat down, sighing in relief once she leaned on her friend. As concerned as everyone gathered was for everyone else, the topic of the entire blasted council meeting was too important not to bring up right away.

“M-many people chimed in after you left, and we’ve figured out a plan for now. We undid the banishment decree. We’re also planning to send a bunch of resources—tools, food and such—to Newmoon in a couple of days. M-make that first step as a town. All the builders were pushing for that one.”

Relief from all around, melting even further through whatever composure Sue still had left.

“^That’s very good. However, Solstice—what about you? Are you okay?^”

“I’m...”

Sue couldn’t see the Mayor’s shudder, but she felt it. And together with it, so many sad emotions that were only barely remaining contained under her eyelids.

“I’m not doing the best right now...”

The vixen nodded wordlessly, immediately getting to thinking as words were silently exchanged between the two. Sue neither noticed nor cared; she was well aware of how much she needed her rest, but—

...

Joy.

The realization that she still hadn’t picked up the metal girl from her dragon guardian startled Sue all the way to awareness. She’d totally forgotten in all this chaos, Astra would be lost and Joy so distraught, she’d fucked up she’d fucked up—

“^Need to get a hold of Astra?^”

Sue answered without looking back at the mystic, eyes straining as they scanned what they could see of the skyline.

“I remember spotting her flying overhead a few minutes ago. She must be looking for you, Sue.”

Solstice’s clarification brought relief, but it only helped so much with the once-human having absolutely no idea how she would even catch Astra’s attention. Right as she was about to descend back into panic, she felt Sundance’s left arm unwrap itself from around her and reach upwards. With a well-practiced flick, the firefox retrieved her wand from the confines of her fur, simultaneously setting its tip ablaze.

“^I should have enough in me to still pull that off.^”

“P-pull what—”

Sue saw it before she could even finish asking.

A weak orange shimmer filled the vixen’s eyes as she moved her wand around, as if writing. Tracers of bright red embers weaved through the air a few dozen feet above them in tune with her every flick. Soon, a few symbols in Moonview’s language came together to compose what appeared to be a single word.

And if the high-pitched, reptilian whine that had reached them shortly afterwards was any sign, the burning sign had succeeded at its purpose.

With a final flick, the mystic undid all her magical writing, returning the surrounding skies back to darkness. None of the three could see much immediately after—not with their eyes needing time to get used to an absence of light again—but they very much heard the flaps of Astra’s wings coming closer and closer, followed by a couple thuds on the nearby grass.

And then, a jovial greeting.

“Hey Sue! Sorry it took me so long, I couldn’t find—oh I’m sorry I’ll be quiet now—Mrs. Sundance!”

Despite Astra’s best attempt at keeping herself under control, seeing the vixen be alright again broke clean through her limited composure. If not for there being no room around the mystic, she would’ve crouched and held her tight there and then.

Instead, a bit of laughter had to suffice.

“^Yes, yes I’m back, Astra. I’m happy to see you and Joy are alright.^”

“She was excited to be spending the night with Sue. I know she’ll miss me after a couple of days, and I hope I can be back soon, but I’m sure she’ll really love it here. Right, Sue?”

Through the power of sheer willpower, the once-human didn’t let Astra’s words reopen any of her emotional wounds from earlier, keeping herself to the most strenuous nod of her life.

“Y-yeah. I-I hope she will.”

“I’m sure of it! Can you take her now, or do you need help with moving her to the bed?”

I don’t think I can even stand up unassisted right now.

“Sue needs a bit of help, Astra.”

“Sure, Mrs. Solstice! Want me to help you stand up, Sue?”

The question took the Forest Guardian aside in how unprepared she and the contents of her lap were for such a task. Thankfully, Solstice soon whisked Comet away, and for Twinkle, she could just tie their bag around her chest again, for now. Not the most comfortable solution—probably not even for the lil’ ghost—but good enough for the time being. From there, it was just a matter of grabbing the dragon’s massive paw, letting her raw strength pull Sue’s comparatively tiny self upright in one motion, then slowly stumbling over to Solstice’s tent.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to this, Sue! I know it’s a lot to ask, but she really likes you and isn’t this comfortable with anyone else. She used to be much more skittish when I had to leave last time, and now look at her! She even joined up with other kids and played with them for a while after you left earlier. I’ve never seen her do that before!”

Sue was so, so glad it was too dark for Astra to notice the tears flowing down her face.

“I-I’m so glad to hear...”

Unfortunately, that didn’t extend to noticing just how wobbly her voice was.

“Are you okay, Sue?”

Shoot.

“I’m... it’s been a long evening.”

“I get it! I’ve heard you’ve done something really cool at the council meeting earlier. That must’ve taken a lot outta you!”

“Y-you could say that...”

“Hope you all get some good rest tonight!”

As weak as Sue felt, she had enough stamina in her to carry the sleeping Joy from the tent’s entrance over to her bed, even if barely. As much as the dragon half-heartedly regretted not being able to give her one last embrace before her next trip, Sue was so incredibly thankful she left instead of awkwardly waiting for her to walk back over to send her off.

The moment she sat down on the bed, she just about felt her legs fall off.

It took a couple moments orienting herself and Joy into a comfortable position—or at least what she hoped was a comfortable position in the latter’s case—but she got there, eventually. She laid near one edge of the bed, and most of the toothy girl rested on the pillow, right in front of Sue’s face. Firmly outside the flailing range of her front horn.

I hope.

Even with them all laid down, Sue’s mind needed a moment to finish reeling over what it had experienced today, the sheer totality of it. All the distress, all the relief, so many overwhelming sensations that each would’ve left her completely wiped back on Earth. A gauntlet that she somehow managed to push through, and was so grateful for it.

And now, it was just her, and a pair of kids that had stolen her heart.

Twinkle was already clinging to her; Joy got her one free arm to hold in her sleep; it was time to rest. There just so happened to be an appropriate tune that soon crept to her mind, the coincidence making her giggle. It wasn’t much use with both the kids asleep, but... maybe it could help her.

Twinkle, Twinkle, little star,

how I wonder what you are—


“^None of us are guiltless in this, Solstice.^”

Right as the last of Sue’s brain cells were about to throw in the towel, hearing Sundance’s voice in her mind snapped her back to semi-awareness. It wasn’t aimed at her, and Sue had no idea about how she could even hear it. Either way, she had no choice but to eavesdrop while her conscience kept trying to make her finally doze off.

“^You’ve done bad things, so have we all. We have to push on.^”

“^I thought myself to be above all this, above the elders’ council. Indeed, I think me leaving resulted in more harm than good. I put my pride above ensuring the council wouldn’t hurt more. I know it was my choice, Solstice, I’m just saying it was a selfish choice.^”

...

“^He’s not. He never was, and never will. Remember your oath, Solstice. To bring peace and healing to all. Your bond with the Pale Lady is yours, and yours alone. It is your sacred guidance, treat it as such. Cherish it, make it fill you with conviction and resolve, and not with doubt. What Root or Solanum say doesn’t matter, you know better than to treat their word as anything other than the heresy it is.^”

“^You’re welcome.^”

...

“^Yes, I can’t deny that. Sue is like Aurora in many ways, but she’s her own person. I know you know, Solstice, but it’s still worth stressing. I agree, bad things will happen if they remain mixed in your mind. What are you going to do with that fact?^”

...

...

“^Then it sounds like you finally have to bury Aurora, once and for all.^”


♪ B♭ E♭ B♭ D. D. E♭— ♪

Sue let her hands keep jamming on their autopilot while her awareness came together, one note at a time. The same clearing yet again, where incomprehensible horror and annoying deities lurked alike. Which of these would await her this time, she had no idea.

Only one way to find out, is there.

With one last deep breath, she opened her eyes and brought the music to a stop. Sue wasn’t even surprised to be playing her mom’s guitar anymore, not with how stubbornly it kept showing up here and just how... right doing so felt. A bit more annoying than the last time, with her fingers covered with what felt like cheap glue residue, but still manageable.

Fittingly, the guitar looked like it had been glued together from hundreds of pieces, similarly stained and dirtied all over. Visibly damaged and repaired, rather dirty and in need of a solid clean-up,

But in one piece again.

The once-human couldn’t pay that fact much attention as she scanned her surroundings. To her right, a shadowy figure, just like she’d seen in some of her past dreams. To her left—

Joy and Twinkle sitting beside each other, jamming it out to the now-stopped tunes.

She watched them turn towards her; smile and wave as if nothing was amiss. Happy to see her, happy to be with her. And then, they were gone in a blink, together with the shadow on her other side.

I don’t want to think about this. Whoever’s here better show up so I don’t have to think about this—

For once, Destiny answered her prayers.

Right as Sue’s strained mind could connect the sight she’d just witnessed to the very-needed-but-equally-unpleasant discussion from earlier, something moved in the corner of her view. A single, torn sheet of paper, fluttering around as it landed on her mom’s guitar. The once-human had a hunch about what she’d see scribbled on it, and much to her dread,

She was right.

Well done.

“Justice. What does any of this—”

Before she could finish her sentence, another page fluttered down from above. This time, Sue didn’t rest her attention on the piece of paper itself, moving her gaze up instead, towards where it came from.

And there she saw... something.

And It saw her too, discarding the page It held before floating down to in front of her personally.

It was only about the size of her head, with a silver body and yellowish... crown, pointing straight up and to the sides. On each of its tips, plates of pure silver, engraved so intricately they hurt to look at. Behind It, a long cape the color of Its headpiece. Its three eyes stared into her, their gaze seeing deep into the future.

“Might as well.”

Its words were uttered by a choir of a thousand silver voices, with just the slightest feminine slant.

“J-Justice.”

“Correct, mortal.”

Sue’s eyes narrowed at being referred to like that, but she wasn’t going to waste an opportunity to speak directly to someone so central to the mess she ended up in.

“D-did you enter my dream earlier?”

To her further frustration, It rolled Its eyes before floating further away, scanning the surrounding dreamscape.

Of course I did, mortal.”

I’m not in the mood for this divine horseshit.


“Fine, have an actual question—who the fuck did this to me!?”

“I have already answered that.”

Sue faintly recalled the chaotic, golden scribble from a couple of dreams ago, the sight as frustrating for her now as it was back then.

“That’s still not an answer!”

“It is exactly the answer you can perceive.”

“Bullshit—”

I DO NOT LIE.

In the blink of an eye, Justice had moved to within an inch of her face, eyes burning with the purest of starlight. Despite their utter flatness earlier, there was a divine fury to these particular words; their sheer might was enough to freeze Sue where she sat.

With another blink, it was all over. It was back to where It had been before, floating through the air as if immune to gravity.

It took Sue a few minutes to gather the courage to look away after witnessing that. She was still angry at everything about this, angrier still at being so outmatched even inside her own head, but had to put that aside for now. As much as she wanted to call almost every deity obscenities right now, there was something in particular she now, more than ever, needed to know.

“Wh-what happens now with my ‘plan’? Isn’t it done? Moonview is going to give Newmoon aid, th-the night kin are allowed back, Duck and Night Father will get together and all that—what now?”

Sue dreaded thinking about the answer, but she had to know, for everyone’s sake. If she knew how much time she had left here, she’d be able to act on that knowledge, make amends and say goodbyes, make sure her departure will hurt others the least amount possible. Any attempt to think about that entire topic drove a rusty, serrated knife deeper into her brain, but it had to be done.

She wouldn’t even get that.

A disjointed noise of a thousand overlapping laughs made her flinch as she watched the deity float back over to her. Its previous total flatness was replaced with the slightest of smirks, even that tiny change feeling significant for It. Sue was too disoriented and unnerved to even be offended at what It said next.

“Mortals only see what’s right in front of their eyes, do they not.”

And then, It looked up. The once-human was unsure about following Its gaze, but found her attention being dragged along against her will.

A full Moon loomed above them, several times larger than it ought to be. It looked profoundly wrong, in a disgusting way. Massive, oppressively bright, with a light that burned and not mended. It forced Sue to reel and hide behind her arms, growing ever more mighty, ever more vivid, ever more crushing with every moment.

Ever more closer.

“It will not be...”

The fell Moon’s influence burned everything around her, crushing first the scenery, and then Sue herself, into the ground. All-encompassing, all-destroying, a dominating force with no relief or mercy. It ground at it all, until nothing remained, until all was subsumed.

Until the darkness was no more.

“...that easy.”



If you're confused about the species of the characters and want them spoiled, I've set up a page listing the species of all the featured characters in each chapter!

If you want to discuss the story, I've set up a Discord server for it! (and my other writings)

Also check out my other main fic, From the Vast!
 
Interlude IV: Investigation


Interlude IV: Investigation



It was as if every new day only made this mess of a case even more utterly incoherent.

The man stared intently at a chalkboard full of scribbles occupying much of his office. This wasn’t their investigation to be undertaking. Helping the cops as subject matter experts and for search and rescue operations, sure, but not as a driving force. They weren’t equipped, trained, or—for the most part—even willing to have anything more to do with this case than the absolute minimum possible.

And yet, he found it too perplexing to look away.

To the surprise of the woodland authority and law enforcement alike, there just so happened to be several witnesses nearby when... whatever had happened, happened. None of them saw it, but they all heard it. One by one, their statements were taken, contributing valuable knowledge to what had become known as the ‘Sue Mullins Incident’.

Contrary to all the throwaway YouTube videos released within the first week of the disappearance becoming public, no witnesses had heard a gunshot. What they did hear, however, were two loud bangs and a woman’s scream.

He wasn’t supposed to know any of this, but sometimes having a cop ‘friend’ one barely tolerates pays off.

Quick action and well-detailed maps of the surrounding woods let many witnesses pinpoint their position when they heard it all start. From there, it became possible to triangulate the approximate positions of the bangs and the scream, as well as establish a rudimentary timeline of events.

Which—

ughhhhhhh...

The man sighed deeply as he rubbed his forehead, attempting to focus after three shots too many. His every attempt to piece this together had ended the same way—with frustration, inebriation, or more often than not, both. And yet, he just couldn’t look away. It was a mess, an intricate mess that had to mean something, but which nobody could crack.

Sound 1—12.04.2023, 2:13 PM local time.

The first bang is heard. The approximate location where it had originated from has been nicknamed ‘point beta’. Point beta is a location around 800 meters from where the victim’s items were found—nicknamed ‘point alpha’—in the east-southeast direction.

Sound 2—12.04.2023, 2:15 PM local time, described as anywhere from one to two minutes after sound 1.

A scream of a woman in her young twenties is heard, originating from point alpha. It is described as sounding agonized and abruptly cutting off.

Sound 3—12.04.2023, 2:16 PM local time, described as anywhere from twenty to thirty seconds after sound 2.

The second bang is heard, identical to the first one, originating from point alpha.

It was the most obvious instance of Foul Play that most involved in the investigation had ever seen in their lives, and yet they couldn’t find a single piece of useful evidence. No traces of third parties’ DNA, no footprints, no casings or gunpowder residue.

Nothing that would indicate just what the bangs were, nothing pointing towards any specific perpetrator—

Or at least, that’s what the case was until yesterday.

The report that had reached the police—and three hours later, the man’s—desk took everyone aback in more ways than one. There indeed was no typical evidence, but a more detailed investigation of points alpha and beta found—

Good fuck, that felt silly to say out loud, but was too significant to not be relevant somehow.

—small amounts of very fine gold dust scattered around the forest floor. And not just any gold dust, radioactive gold dust, enough so for the entire initial search and rescue team to be forced to undergo decontamination. In addition, the air at the two points was also discovered to have a substantial concentration of ozone, and the grass at point beta was noticed to have been slightly flattened in a radial pattern away from a central spot.

What in the hell did any of that actually imply, they couldn’t figure out. Just what these two bangs were, they couldn’t figure out.

What was the significance of the dead squirrel they found near point alpha, determined to have died by being thrown hard enough at a nearby tree to break its spine while somehow having no foreign DNA on it,

They couldn’t figure out.

All the revelations were weird enough to grab the attention of several government agencies—including His Majesty’s Revenue and Customs—but they didn’t help the actual investigation one bit.

Who knew, maybe it was some sort of centrally planned assassination? Maybe this college student with no friends and no family really knew enough state secrets to where she had to be eliminated in the most baffling way possible. Maybe she had become a victim of a mad nuclear chemist on the run.

Maybe Fate just felt particularly funny that day—

ba-ping!

Oh, fuck off.



If you're confused about the species of the characters and want them spoiled, I've set up a page listing the species of all the featured characters in each chapter!

If you want to discuss the story, I've set up a Discord server for it! (and my other writings)

Also check out my other main fic, From the Vast!
 
Chapter 26: Kinship


Chapter 26: Kinship



For the first time in a while, Sue let herself rest for as long as she needed.

The surrounding tranquility soothed her as her awareness slowly drifted around, never quite falling back asleep; but not waking up either. Warmth, safety, just enough ambient glow for it to not be entirely dark—all combined into a profoundly calming experience. It’s been... years, decades since she could recall being at this much of a peace in the morning. Without anything that needed to be attended to right away, without any persistent worries.

Granted, she wasn’t quite sure whether the latter was earned considering just what she’d seen at the end of her dream, but she discarded it soon enough. Ominous, sure, but hardly meaningful, and she wasn’t in the mood to try predicting the future based on her exhausted, trauma-influenced dreams.

Especially since, unless she tripped on a magical ocarina later today, it wasn’t like she could do anything to stop the Moon from falling on her.

Or Duck, for that matter.

The thought—equal parts stupid and morbid—did wonders in speeding Sue’s awakening up. Just a few minutes later, she’d gone from idly resting to stretching and yawning as her mind felt around the room with its extra sense. Solstice was absent—understandable, with her having an important job. The same was true for Comet; she must’ve taken him somewhere. In front of her, Joy snoozed on, her quiet snores making up much of the quaint ambiance. Twinkle—

...

...

Twinkle wasn’t here.

The revelation tossed the once-human into the freezing lake of full focus in an instant, eyes not even wincing as they snapped wide open. Confirming her worries, the messy bag wrapped around her chest was empty, sending her straight into ever-tightening anxiety.

“Twinkle? Twinkle!?”

Her aching limbs’ complaints fell on deaf ears as Sue pushed herself up, frantically scanning around the room. The awareness that she was looking for someone whose true form wasn’t meant to be looked at was present in her head, but shoved into a locker. She didn’t care that the sight might hurt her; she needed to find them; she needed to find her—the little one.

With each nook investigated and found empty, she felt the stabbing feeling in her chest grow more intense, any remaining grasp on calmness fading soon. She kept looking around the tent, soon getting on her knees to check under the beddings and baskets, to the immense displeasure of her still-hurting leg. It could wait, everything could wait, she had to find them; they had to be somewhere in here!

R-right?

Only emptiness, again and again. Most trinkets she spotted were overlooked in the chaos, including a small bundle of a long needle and several tiny bags she found hidden under Solstice’s bed. She didn’t have the spare brainpower to think about it or even remember seeing it—all that mattered was finding the little ghost. With each passing moment, anxiety distilled into despair, catalyzed by the pulsating pain on her still-injured leg.

They must’ve headed out, but how am I gonna find them!? What if they ran off into the woods; what if they hate me now; what if they died—

rustle-rustle


The sudden sound made Sue look over hard enough to make her neck hurt, but she didn’t have it in her to think about that.

Or... anything else, for that matter.

For a few moments, she stared at the misshapen, pitch-black spot, unable to process the sight. Her body ached as brain remained locked up, air slowly running out—

And then, the blob noticed what their presence was doing, and hid behind her bed with a distorted, terrified squeak. Sue’s loud gasp that followed didn’t help with their worries, but not even the once-human herself cared one bit about how much her airways hurt. They were here; they were safe, that’s all that mattered, that’s all that could ever matter!

...

They were also palpably scared, so even if she was crying tears of joy, it was best she took it slow.

“H-hey Twinkle, I’m okay, I-I’m okay.”

Sue’s body shook as she crawled back onto her bedding and approached the edge the lil’ ghost was hiding behind. Her tears flowed all the while, resisting being reigned in despite how unnecessary they were. She overreacted and Twinkle was safe now. There was hardly anything worth crying about, but...

The mere possibility of losing them hurt so much more than she could admit to herself, even now.

“I’m here sweetie, I’m here. It’s okay, it’s okay.”

After laying down next to the edge of the bed, Sue reached one arm towards the hiding ghost. Warm relief shot through her at feeling their ethereal, amorphous warmth grasp her hand, and then more of it once she switched to careful petting.

“There, there. Let’s—let’s see if I can talk with you any.”

With Twinkle’s tentacle held firmly, Sue started maneuvering her mental link with her other hand. Despite knowing full well where the lil’ ghost was, a psychic connection was surprisingly difficult, their ‘signal’—for a lack of a better term—faint and smeared over a small area as opposed to being concentrated in a single bright spot.

Nothing she couldn’t overcome, even with the added difficulty of her horn aching throughout the entire process.

Even once the Forest Guardian was as sure she was connected as she’d ever get, she remained uncertain how to communicate with the lil’ one. Sundance’s words were fresh in her mind, about her needing to do some legwork to get anything coherent out of Twinkle’s murky, indeterminate thoughts. Legwork that Sue wouldn’t have a shred of an idea of how to begin even without her current injury.

Something simpler, then... well, doesn’t get any simpler than binary ‘yes’ or ‘no’.

“Twinkle? Can you hear me?”

Focusing on her sixth sense, Sue felt their attention shift at hearing her words, the slurry of emotions in their mind soon shifting from fear to contentment.

Let’s take that as ‘yes’.

“I’m glad. Are you okay?”

Happiness, paired with more of their pitch-black warmth wrapping around her outstretched hand.

“I’m happy to see you, too. Did you leave while I was sleeping?”

Fright. Not an emotion she was sure how to interpret, making her want to continue. Before she could figure out what to say next, though, Sue felt something be pressed against her palm, as if the lil’ ghost was passing it over to her. With them backing off a few moments later, the once-human pulled her hand back, and saw...

A few freshly plucked dandelions.

The connection took its sweet time to form in her mind, time that only left Twinkle more worried. Sue laid the flowers on the edge of her bed before letting them hold her hand again, analyzing them with her other one.

Just some dandelions. Do they mean something to them, or—

...

...

Flowers.

“A-are these for me, Twinkle?”

A much firmer grasp on her hand, a lot more joy. As direct of a confirmation as she’d ever get, the sweetness of it all soon dissolving the last she had left of her earlier fear. In an instant, the small bundle in front of her went from assorted weeds to something she wanted to treasure. Some of those murky emotions were there, too—the kneejerk desire to reject that bliss filling her mind, to distance herself from both it and the little one that brought it.

After yesterday, though, Sue had it in her to push them away before they could worm themselves into her head, earlier tears coming back for a reprise.

“That’s so sweet of you, T-Twinkle. Thank you so much.”

Soothing happiness, bright enough to warm Sue’s body up. More fodder for happy tears, ones she didn’t even try to fight. She overreacted when they disappeared, she overreacted now—

Who bloody cares, I’m so happy and so are they.

For a short while, Sue let them both bask in the joy of it all, of delivering to and receiving a gift from someone they cared about so much. It’d still be best for the stressful part of this situation to be avoided in the future, but that could wait just a bit.

Even at their happiest, even at the absolute firmest she ever felt them hold her hand, it was hardly any more forceful than if she’d submerged it in water. The realization made her want to hold Twinkle even harder—they must be so little and weak and, and—

And she wanted to be there for them, to protect them from any more fear or grief ever again.

First, gotta make sure they don’t squirm away again, hehe.

“If you ever wanna head out, could you wake me up first, Twinkle? I... I got scared when you left earlier.”

On cue, an unpleasant jolt of their own fear, one Sue tried to soothe as firmly as she could, be it by pets or words.

“It’s okay sweetie, I’m okay now! Just asking for the future. I... I really care about you, a-and want to know where you are, okie?”

Firm clinging, calming by the moment. They didn’t want to leave her ever again—and at the moment; she didn’t want that either.

“Here, lemme give you your bag again.”

As Sue unwrapped the makeshift costume from around her torso, it really hit her just how... unsightly it was. She was far from a germaphobe—the often-messy state of her college dorm was proof positive of that—but the condition of the rag the little one hid in still had her grow queasy once she inspected it. Dirt stains, discoloration, a couple specks she could swear were dried blood.

Twinkle deserved so much better, even if their guardian had no idea how to help at the moment.

In just a few minutes, the lil’ ghost was back in their bag and scrambling over to hold Sue as close as they could. Two tentacles wrapped around her midriff, and a third around her petting hand, each gentle stroke calming them down bit by bit. As keen as Sue was to just stay like this all day long, though, Twinkle wasn’t even the only child she was looking after.

And after her raised voice and the resulting chaos, the other one was slowly waking up as well.

Oh goodness, the maw yawns too. I don’t care that I should be terrified, this is adorable.

After a couple of stretches of her own, Joy sat up and rubbed the sand out of her eyes before looking around. To little surprise, she was taken aback at her environment right away, enough so to put her on edge—before spotting Sue, at least.

And once she did, she didn’t hesitate even for a moment before dashing over and wrapping her arms around her too.

“Goodness, what did I do to deserve you both...”

Sue only barely stopped herself from breaking into tears again, her near-sogginess spotted by Joy in particular. With Twinkle taking her one available link, she had no idea how to verbally convey what she just said to the metal girl, but... verbally wasn’t the only option.

Especially since something told her that Joy appreciated being lifted into a hug just as much as a spoken explanation.

After the display of affection, the three of them calmed down some more—enough so for Twinkle to draw attention to the small bundle of dandelions on the bed’s corner. Sue wasn’t too certain what to do with them, but she knew they deserved something being done with them.

Hold on... yeah, that could work.

Taking Twinkle off-guard, Sue plucked one dandelion of their grasp before weaving it into the loops that kept the ghost wrapped up. The second flower got clumsily wrapped around one of Joy’s... curls, much to her confusion, and the third Sue wove into her own hair.

“How’s that, Twinkle?”

No verbal response, but gesturing made up for that in spades. One black tentacle pointed at Sue, then at Joy, and finally, after some thinking, at themselves.

“Yep, we each have a flower you brought~. Thank you again, that’s really sweet of you.”

It was only at that point that the toothy girl had woken up enough to consciously notice the bagchild just a couple of feet away from her. Her recollection helped her not panic at the sight, but a whole lot of confusion about who this stranger was remained. Sue didn’t have a way to tell her, but... she could still introduce them, if clumsily.

“Joy, this is Twinkle. I’m looking after you both.”

One hand grabbed Joy’s, and the other took a hold of Twinkle’s tentacle, catching the attention of them both. Bringing them together went without any hitches, beyond reasonable apprehension. The metal girl was taken aback at how weird the ghost’s limb felt, and in return, Twinkle was unnerved at Joy’s maw. Nothing they couldn’t work through, especially with Sue being there with them.

I won’t let anyone hurt you while I’m here.

Before the lil’ ones could meet each other more, they all heard the entrance to the tent being parted again, this time by a pair of much more obvious suspects. The smaller of the two immediately reacted with a drawn-out, elated squeak at seeing his friends awake, and the larger one wasted little time before following in tow with a rough spun bag in one hand, and a... bucket in the other.

“Good morning everyone~. I hope you all slept well.”

Considering the strain of the past couple of days, Solstice was remarkably upbeat. The shift was enough to bring some concern of its own to Sue, and the worries about the Mayor trying to mask what she felt inside didn’t take long to pop up. The older Forest Guardian sensed them clearly, answering Sue’s uncertain look with a firm nod and a telepathic whisper as she stepped in and lowered Comet onto the floor of her tent.

“^You aren’t the only one whom a chat with Sundance helped a lot with~. I still have much to process, I’m very well aware, but... it feels possible now.^”

Sue didn’t feel comfortable prodding for any deeper confirmation, but she didn’t need to, either. To the contrary, it was her noticeably soggy state that was much more eye-catching of the two—enough so for the Mayor to want to investigate deeper—before deciding against it. Whatever had happened, Sue had clearly figured it out herself, and if she needed further help, she knew how to ask for it.

Which just left pride, equally pleasant for both Forest Guardians.

squeak!

And of course, the lil’ Moon Child too.

As Sue tried not to laugh at the sight of Comet dispensing indiscriminate affection to her leg, she watched Solstice pull out everything she’d brought with herself, the assorted veggies making sense with what she said afterwards—

“Breakfast time! Goodness, it’s been a while since I had the time to prepare something like this, and now I get to do it for twice as many heads as usual, ha!”

Sue’s scan of the laid out ingredients couldn’t piece them together into any meal she was especially familiar with. Potatoes, onions, a couple of peppers and several of the local lookalikes of the vegetables she knew.

Can’t say I ever liked raw tomatoes, but at least the ones back home didn’t have spikes jutting out of them...

“What are you gonna make?”

“Tamato stew. Used to have it all the time growing up. Despite everything, it... it still brings some good memories. Was always a highlight of the day.”

Tomato, tamato.

Mayor’s words could be interpreted in many concerning ways. Instead, Sue settled on a sympathetic smile, eagerly accepted. The thought of having a stew for breakfast was... odd, but considering her daily meal schedule back on Earth was ‘anything goes’, she didn’t have any ground to stand on.

“Can I help anyhow?”

“Hmm... I only keep one knife in here, so unlikely. I appreciate the offer, though~. Hah... I remember helping with these when I was much younger than you. It was always a family effort, by and only for us. Guests got something else instead. Don’t see why I can’t make an exception here—what use are rules like that which only make us more miserable to follow?”

The once-human was equal parts appreciative of a nice meal, and internally aching at the implication, however true, that she was in the category of ‘guest’ and not ‘family’. She didn’t put words to that thought, trying as hard as she could to swallow it down, but... it was still here, and Solstice could still sense it clearly. Neither of the two knew how to work their way out of that unpleasant feeling, prompting the Mayor to focus on continuing her cooking instead, an apologetic expression clear on her face.

Comet aside, the other little ones watched closely as Solstice reached out towards the small hearth and filled the hole in the dirt with several pieces of charcoal. Sue expected her to bring out a piece of flint and scrape some sparks out of it next, but what she did instead was much more eye-catching, if unexpected.

A dim glow shrouded Solstice’s eyes and fingers as she wove the latter around in a pattern Sue couldn’t immediately piece together. If it was some sort of mystical spell, it was certainly working—the glow intensified until turning into a burning bright tracer, culminating in a small burst of intense flame being projected right at the awaiting fuel.

Definitely something Sue expected Sundance to be capable of, but not Solstice.

“^Heh, she actually taught me that one! Really handy, even if nowhere near as flashy as her way of doing it.^”

Sue didn’t think the elemental magic of that sort was as... teachable as the Mayor’s description implied it to be. Before she could finish moving away from the earlier unpleasant topic and ask about the ingredients, she saw Joy lean in closer to the pot beside her, obviously curious about what was happening there.

Something to ask her about, after she figured out how to withdraw her link from Twinkle and reach Joy with it—

“^Communication is becoming a thorn, isn’t it, Sue?^”

The question took the younger Forest Guardian from the left field, but she couldn’t disagree with it either. She dearly appreciated having a way to talk to the others in here, but its limitations grew starker and starker by the day. Nothing Sue would let bring her down, nowhere near, but still an annoyance best dealt with sooner or later.

“Y-yeah...”

Her words and their uncertain tone caught the kids’ attention, much to her embarrassed happiness.

“^Seems like some learning is in order, especially now that you’re watching over two little people~.^”

Sue nodded firmly, hands indiscriminately dispensing affection to the tykes beside her.

“^Alrighty! Would you want to try it now while I’m working on the stew?^”

As much as the once-human agreed she needed to get better at this, she didn’t see how she could do so in her current state. She wanted to, she really did, but if the injury on her chest made it difficult to do the little she knew, there was no way she could meaningfully train anything more intense.

Outvoted by a frickin’ papercut.

Before Sue could state the objection out loud, Solstice was already thinking through it while chopping vegetables on autopilot. She didn’t disagree; an injury of this sort was an obstacle. However, it wasn’t going away anytime soon. Horn injuries always took a long time to heal, an unpleasant detail the Mayor knew from experience.

And with Sue being the type to try running away with a broken leg, Solstice wasn’t expecting her not to try improving her psychics in the meantime, anyway. The least she could do was to watch over her, make sure she wasn’t aggravating it by accident, and—where possible—focus on the technique as opposed to raw, pain-inducing force.

...

She hoped Sue would at least keep from bench pressing with her mind until her horn was all good, though.

“^Don’t worry, it shouldn’t be too painful. Still, let me know if it ever gets too bad or you need a moment.^ Alright everyone, would you mind giving Sue some space? I’ll be teaching her some more psychics so that she can talk with you more easily.”

The sudden switch from direct telepathy to spoken word took Sue aback as the young ‘uns listened to Solstice’s request. Joy followed it right away, but Twinkle… hesitated, for very reasonable reasons. Solstice was of half a mind to try calming them down, just like she remembered doing with Joy a few days ago, but noticed that her student wanted to tackle that instead. Sue didn’t have a magical anathema to them being clingy either, but could at least underline that yes, she would remain here for them

Which was exactly what she did.

“C’mere, Twinkle. I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here. You just need to wait for me to finish some practicing with Solstice, okay? You can play with Joy and Comet until I’m done~.”

Her hand carefully gripped their bag, while the other pointed out the two tykes as she mentioned them—with a loud, happy squeak adding to the Moon Child’s description. It filled Twinkle with enough confidence for them to slowly slink off his guardian’s lap on their own, to Sue’s amazement. She didn’t comment as she watched them lower themselves on the floor on their own, and hoped her wide, slightly soggy smile was self-explanatory enough.

Not even Comet’s very pushy kind of friendliness, and Twinkle’s skittish reaction to it could ruin the sweetness all around her. Not if Joy had anything to say at least, stepping in between the two kids before the lil’ psychic could finish excitedly crawling over.

“S-s-slow!”

Joy’s voice was noticeably less shaky than the last time Sue’d heard it, adding another heaping dose of pride into Sue’s cocktail of emotions. Vague as the single word request was on its own, his mom’s translation helped Comet understand it. At the same time, the metal girl looked over her shoulder to see if Twinkle was alright too, following her guardian’s steps and patting their bag just in case they weren’t.

Several tentacles wrapping themselves around her in response took her back a bit, but the two adults’ laughter melted through any fear before it could even arise.

“Thank you, Joy.”

A beaming smile from the metal girl, ecstatic about her efforts to help the other lil’ one having been noticed.

“^Alright Sue, let’s get to it. My only concern is that your previous technique of using arms to assist yourself might be ill-suited here. It’s clearly helping you, but I have a hard time imagining how it could control more than two mental reaches at the same time.^”

Sue wasn’t sure how to deal with that problem. If she had to change tracks away from her hand-based technique for this, then she was unlikely to achieve any progress at all, with everything she would first need to learn the ‘right’ way before continuing.

All that, though, paled compared to the other fact she glimpsed from her mentor’s words.

“Wh-what do you mean, two?”

“^Oh?^”

Solstice paused her breakfast preparation at her student’s question. Once she figured out what Sue meant, though, it sent her into a giggling fit that she tried to contain as hard as she could—ineffectively. Made for a good teaching moment, if nothing else.

“^I see~. I want you to first tune out emotions and focus, so that I can show you something.^”

Sue did as instructed; the former task made much easier through practice. Even with several more minds compared to her last training session, she found dimming feelings’ bright glare to be much more straightforward. In no time, the world around her was reduced to just a few shining pinpricks of consciousness, and... a small glowing cloud where Twinkle was.

It wasn’t just me, their mind really is different, huh.

“^Now, watch.^”

Any further mental tangents could wait; the once-human’s entire focus on her mentor. She felt her body instinctively reel back a bit at seeing six protrusions reach out from Solstice’s consciousness all at once, each waving in unison as the Mayor’s physical body kept chopping veggies.

“^You can get much higher than just the one link you were using~. I’d say I can manage around ten or so, though not all at once.^”

If Sue’s eyes were open, she would’ve been staring wide.

“T-ten? How!?”

“^Takes a lot of practice, and is hardly ever useful, ha. The really tough part is independently controlling them, and there I can only handle three groups at the same time or so.^”

Sue didn’t think she was anywhere close to catching up with other psychics around Moonview, but this explanation sure cemented that fact even harder.

“^In your case, actively using multiple of them simultaneously won’t even be needed for now.^”

“R-right, but what if I want to link up with more than one person?”

“^That can be done one at a time~. Once you’re connected to someone, it doesn’t really take much focus to keep that connection going, does it?^”

Sue’s very tenuous grasp on much of this subject—and especially anything that went beyond the vague vibes she got used to by now—left her feeling anxious. Before the Mayor could intervene, though, her student took a deep breath and chewed through the question instead of immediately panicking. Once she processed it one word at a time, the answer was straightforward—‘yes’.

“R-right. Sorry, just... it’s hard.”

“^It’s okay. Take all the time you need, Sue.^”

The once-human smiled weakly, opening her eyes just for a moment. Her mentor had much the same expression, patient and...

Yes, patient and motherly. Congratulations, visual cortex, you have noticed the obvious. Want a cookie or something?

“^S-Sue?^”

“It’s—it’s nothing. Lemme get back to it.”

Thankfully, Sue didn’t spot the amused, raised eyebrow going her way.

“^Alright~. So, now that you know that multiple extensions of your mind are a possibility, let’s start with just the one you’re used to. I’m... unsure how well your hand-based technique will be suited for this, though. It’d be easiest for now if you tried reaching over using just your mind, if possible.^”

Oh well.

“L-Lemme try.”

Her recent injury didn’t appreciate the efforts that followed one bit. Unfortunately for it, Sue didn’t care. She grimaced slightly as she first tuned out the emotional glare, and then reached out of her skull while her hands gripped her thin legs. Much harder than what she’d been doing previously, more painful, but possible, contrary to her earlier worries.

Not particularly jaw-dropping progress, but progress all the same.

A minute of contorting her brain and slightly squirming her body later, the tip of Sue’s mental reach had made its way over to the older Forest Guardian, adding a bright, warm glow of happiness to her emotions. Any relief gained from that action, though, was immediately undone by the slimy, chilling sensation of her mental tentacle being grasped and forcibly held in place, even as her mind tried to retract it.

It felt just like she thought a Wet Willie would feel.

“^I know, it’s unpleasant, and I’m trying my best to make it less so. While I’m holding your reach, I want you to try extending another one. Just leave this one be where it is and go through this exercise again.^”

As straightforward as Solstice’s instructions were, they were a solid contender for the single most confusing instruction Sue has had yet during her stay here.

She had absolutely no idea how she could possibly ‘let go’ of her brain tentacle. It wasn’t something she was guiding; it was a limb—the mental equivalent to a limb, at least. It was as if she was being asked to detach her physical arm or something.

Just have to let go of my injured leg and sprout another one to replace it. How difficult can that be?

...

...

No, I am not making that joke.

After forcibly shaking off any less-than-appropriate humor her brain tormented her with, Sue tried following Solstice’s instructions again, somehow. It felt impossible, but there must’ve just been something she wasn’t seeing, some mental button she could slam her face on to let herself sprout another brain tentacle.

Simple as that.

What followed were several minutes of Sue shaking in her seat as she simultaneously tried to wrestle her physical Forest Guardian brain and her ephemeral human mind. She was barely capable of duking it out one-on-one with either, and taking on both left her squarely outmatched. A hearty bit of comedy for any mental onlookers that might’ve been nearby, but the once-human only felt frustration creep on her.

These were basics; this was lesson three, and she already felt like she’d run into a concrete wall. A few more frustrated, aimless attempts resulted in the same results. The negative emotions filling the younger Forest Guardian’s head soon stark enough for Solstice to intervene again.

“^Sue? What’s wrong, did something happen?^”

“It’s—I can’t. I just can’t figure this out, I’m sorry.”

“^Don’t be sorry Sue, you’ve done nothing wrong. Is there anything in particular that’s giving you trouble?^”

“Letting go of that—that mental reach. How do you do that?”

“^Hmm... in my case, I remember helping myself with that by lightly yanking my head back when I was little. Nowadays, it happens so fluidly I am unsure how to explain it with words. I can try to show you how it feels, if you’d like?^”

“I-I don’t know. It’s more than that, it’s like a limb, and I have no idea how to let go of a limb.”

“^The ‘limb’ association is very helpful at the start, but you’ve just run into one of its many limitations. Our links can be moved independently like limbs, but they can also be severed, detached, or let go of.^”

“R-right, but I don’t know how to shake that association off myself. It’s not just an unfortunate description, it’s really how they feel to me.”

“^I see... One more piece of advice I have is to try thinking of these not as your mind directly, but as something your mind steers. I know that’s not very useful for you right now. Lemme think about it...^”

As Solstice went back to preparing breakfast stew and study materials for her pupil simultaneously, Sue strained her brain trying to accomplish just a single task. Several further attempts at multiple psychic tentacles went nowhere—at a certain point, she couldn’t even get to where she’d make the magic happen, with even trying to focus away from her currently extended reach making it recede immediately.

This Duckdamned brain, I swear...

The analogy the Mayor left her with sounded like it could be useful, but Sue wasn’t convinced. She was certain she’d run into the same issue again, and almost didn’t even try at all. The frustration-fueled inaction didn’t endure more than a few seconds, thankfully, not as her thoughts threatened to veer over to thinking of herself as a petulant child.

Sue had no idea whether that counted as self-intimidation or not, but was glad it worked all the same.

With that murk discarded, she had little else left to try but to try taking Solstice’s advice literally. To think of her brain tentacles not as her limbs, but something one step further down in the analogy, something they merely steered. Her first attempt to implement that vague guidance ended almost as soon as it had begun, accomplishing nothing—

Because she got another idea, one she was much more keen on trying.

The burst of motivation that revelation provided was enough to even distract Comet out of his play for a moment. Happy squeaks became focused silence as he listened in, only to return to giggles once Joy’s peek-a-boo snagged his attention right back.

As the little ones enjoyed each other’s presence, Sue was busy reaching out a mental tentacle as far out as she felt capable of. This time, though, she didn’t keep herself to just using her mind, letting her hand assist her. With that all-natural mental tool, her psychics floated fluidly around the room, enough so to leave Solstice impressed.

Impressed, and confused, considering how unrelated this was to the exercise at hand.

Sue didn’t notice either emotion, not with how much of her brainpower was focused not just on wriggling her brain around, but also on her physical arm as she did so. She kept it clenched through that entire process, as if gripping a handle. And then, once she reached as far out as she felt capable of, she let go of the handle and pulled her hand back.

And her mental reach stayed there.

It wasn’t immobile, slowly retracting right away, but it broadly remained where it was without her focusing on it any more! She immediately followed it out with the next step, gripping a different pocket of air with the same arm and moving it around in much the same way. And it... worked. For a few seconds, she felt double the squirmy, indescribable sensations that accompanied these mental limbs; she was near sure both of them were out at the same time—

“^Oh—you did it!^”

I FUCKING DID IT!

“^Language please, Comet is around~.^”

Right, sorry.

The gentle chiding interrupted Sue out of her excited pop-off, replacing it with amused laughter for both Forest Guardians.

“^Well done, Sue! What made it make sense?^”

“I tried applying what you said, a-and what did the trick was using my arms as something I steered these links with, n-not as the actual links! Is that similar to what you had in mind?”

“^Huh...^”

Solstice’s genuine confusion took Sue out of it for a while, enough so to make her recede from her focused state. Once more, eyes stung once she opened them, but she was getting used to that, too. Before her, the pot in the tent’s center was now halfway full of water, with a good chunk of chopped-up ingredients already added. Not all, though, with several herbs and chunks of the anomalous spiked tomato still waiting for their turn.

Reentering her body also clued her in to the pulsating aching emanating from her horn—much, much less of it than she thought she would have by now. It wasn’t anything pleasant, nowhere near, but it was bearable.

Sue still hoped that the wound would heal soon, though.

“^I think I have an idea of what might be going on? Suppose your arms are so tied to the concepts of control that you subconsciously envision all action as being done by your arms?^”

That was a much more abstract spin on the entire thing than Sue expected, to the point where figuring out an answer took her a moment. Once she got there, though, the answer was just as self-evident as the last time the Mayor asked her a question about how humans thought of their hands.

“Y-yeah, that tracks. I’d say that ‘moving’ is associated with legs and feet, but almost everything else is with hands.”

“^That’s fascinating. I was aware of how much your previous kin relies on hands, but this goes even further than that. Beyond how your brains are laid out, and into how you conceptualize these fundamental ideas...^”

Sue had no idea how to respond to that, and neither was Solstice expecting her to, chuckling quietly instead.

“^Anywho~. Not done with breakfast yet, so you’ve got some time to practice! Do you want me to help?^”

“If it’s—”

“Of course it’s alright, Sue. I’m gonna do what I did earlier and hold your reach in place when you reach it out far enough, okie~?^”

With a nod, Sue went for it, jumping right back into practice. It took a few solid tries for the slightly different role of her arms to sink in, but once it did, it was even easier to control her brain tentacles than it was earlier. In a repeat of her very first exercise, she reached over to Solstice, got her reach grabbed, and got to extending another one, to the side of the first one.

Harder than the one time she managed it earlier—the sensation emanating from her gripped tentacle made it hard to focus—but still very possible. She grinned with her eyes closed, extending her second mental limb as far as it’d go.

And then, Solstice gripped this one too, and focusing got even harder.

“^It’s tricky, I know~. Further down the line, I can go over how to deflect these interruptions, but for now just keep trying to push past them.^”

She didn’t quite manage to extend the third tentacle out after all; the Mayor eventually letting the first two go. The only way forward was practice, and Sue didn’t waste a moment before immediately trying again—and again, and again, and again. Each go desensitized her to the slimy sensations more and more, each effort of extending a new mental reach made that barely coherent task easier.

Creating a third extension of her mind was still tricky, but doable after just a few solid tries. Going a step forward to attempt the fourth felt like walking into a brick wall. She couldn’t, she just couldn’t; there was no way for her to split her attention this many times. She didn’t want to admit defeat, trying futilely a few more times, but her unfortunate observation was confirmed each time.

Guess that’s as far as I can push it for now.

“^Alright! I’m gonna stop holding them now, and it’ll be up to you to keep them all out.^”

The modified exercise turned out to be simultaneously easier and harder than the previous version. Without the constant bombardment of some very unpleasant sensations, Sue found it much more feasible to go for the fourth mental reach, but her attempts only made all the previous ones want to retract even more.

“^Focus on keeping them all out, Sue.^”

“I-I’m trying...”

Wrestling with her brain in just the right way to keep the wacky figments of her imagination exactly where she wanted them to be was... tricky, and yet somehow not impossible. If she just prodded the correct bits of the gray goo between her ear spikes, she could stop the tentacles from retracting for a decent amount of time. It was something, but not truly keeping them all out at the same time.

Consciously switching which one she was controlling every few moments helped, but came with its own drawbacks.

It limited her to consciously moving a single reach at a time, and the process of switching itself took a decent bit of effort—at the start, at least. Each repetition of that boring task made it easier and easier, her mental model of it all changing over time to match. Instead of having to withdraw her hand all the way back to grasp an entirely different handle, it now felt more like... wearing a sweater with a sleeve that split into two at the elbow, and switching between these sub-sleeves.

...

I really hope I never have to verbally explain this stuff to anyone.

As Sue practiced, these figurative ‘sub-sleeves’ split further and further along. After a few dozen tries, she only had to reach her wrist back to switch the tentacle, after a few dozen more, she just needed to move her hand as if swiping something off to the side. Much of it wouldn’t last for long, she was well aware. Muscle memory was one thing, but this was way too little for that to truly set in.

It made for a great target for the next time she sat down and went through this entire mind-melting workout—

clap!

The sudden sound derailed all that remained of Sue’s train of thought of focus, bringing her back towards full awareness.

“^Dealing with distractions will also be something you’ll have to practice~. But that’s something we can tackle later.^ Breakfast’s ready!”

Sue blinked through her startle as she took the surrounding scene in, attention soon jumping over to the little ones. Joy seemed to be the mediator between Comet and Twinkle, with her and the Moon Child both holding small straw dolls. They didn’t depict anyone in specific, but that didn’t stop their play, as unstructured as it was. The lil’ ghost was still rather overwhelmed by Comet, but not cripplingly so anymore. It would take a while for them to get used to each other, no doubt, but they had time.

They had time, and they had Sue.

Solstice’s call had Twinkle look first at the Mayor, and then at their guardian. Once they spotted the latter being aware again, they scrambled over, catching Joy’s attention as well. Thankfully, the Mayor’s words barely elicited any reaction in the toothy girl anymore, as scared as she was of them just a few days ago.

Something worth asking about, if not worth postponing breakfast for—

“What are you doing, Sue? Come, come, sit down with us.”

The once-human wasn’t sure how she expected breakfast stew to be eaten, but ‘on the floor’ wasn’t an answer she had considered. Suppose it wasn’t quite sitting on dirt with the rudimentary rugs that lined it, but these had to be uncomfortably dirty, right?

...

Wrong.

Sure, they weren’t the peak of pleasantness, but nowhere near as bad as Sue wondered they’d be.

Guess these tiny feet don’t bring all that much dirt with themselves.

“Indeed~.”

The meal—now that Sue focused on it as opposed to passively taking in the scent while thrashing her brains around—smelled delightful. Looks were less stellar, but that was about expected from a stew. Hell, if anything, it was closer to a thick soup than what she’d recognize as a stew back on Earth, especially without any meat.

sip

...

Sue had no idea which of the ingredients she saw earlier had suddenly jumped several orders of magnitude up the Scoville scale, but at least one of them must have done it, because good Duck was this hot. Not unbearably so—her tongue was much too delighted by all the sweet caramelized onion and overall saltiness to complain—but noticeably. If not for her seeing Joy and Comet down their portions with no less delight than she had, the latter with the Mayor’s help, she wouldn’t have believed they could even eat it.

While everyone corporeal went through their bowls and Solstice tried to reason through what did Sue mean by ‘meat’ in her thoughts, Twinkle felt left out. They weren’t hungry; they didn’t even remember what hunger felt like, but this still smelled nice. They wanted some, too. It couldn’t be hard, right? Just had to wait for Joy to put her spoon down, and use it, and then pour some into their—ACK!

Their loud squeak caught the group’s attention, letting them see the fresh stain on the ghost’s outfit, with only a few droplets having reached the void kept within.

“Twinkle, what—on my, you wanted to taste some too, right?”

With another squeak, they dashed over to Sue, holding her tight. Not in pain, but this was still uncomfortable, leaving the little one shuddering against their guardian. It was hot; it was wet; it was hot, and they messed up. They weren’t quite at the level of tears yet, but... they were close.

The perfect level for some closer affection.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Goodness, you really need a replacement bag, don’t you?”

A few mumbled out, panicky squeaks, their volume lowering with each pet.

“I think Sundance would love to help with something like that. Right up her handiwork alley.”

Sue nodded, liking that idea the more she chewed on it. They’d get to check on the vixen, they’d make something nicer for Twinkle, she’d get to spend time with both the little ones under her care—hopefully.

“How does that sound, Twinkle? A prettier outfit nicer for you, and maybe you could even tell us what you want to wear?”

By then, the hauntling had calmed down enough to process the idea, and... they liked it. They liked it so much they soon grew impatient for it, especially with their current costume having gotten rather uncomfortable.

Let’s see if we can clean this thing up…


Turns out it was easier to find something new for Twinkle to temporarily change into than to clean their costume with them inside it.

Solstice was almost certain that their new outfit used to be a pillowcase at some point, before... not being needed anymore, and getting stashed away for a few years. Regardless of what it once was, though, now it was only a source of comfort for the lil’ ghost.

With Twinkle helped and breakfast eaten, the impromptu party headed out, destination: Sundance’s house. Comet snuggled drowsily in Solstice’s arms, Twinkle was wrapped around his guardian again, and Joy walked beside them both. As much as both she and Sue wanted her to be carried, the younger Forest Guardian’s leg disagreed with that desire, especially after being put through extra strain a few hours earlier.

Cast or not, I just can’t learn, can I.

Thankfully, the toothy one didn’t mind a whole lot. She made sure to give Sue some space off to the side, the gesture appreciated dearly. When they were wrapping the breakfast up, Sue put her curiosity about the metal girl’s fear of her two mentors to words. Solstice’s translation was a Duck-send, helping convey the nuance without leaving Joy feeling alarmed or put on the spot.

As it turned out, two grownups summoning lights and fire while speaking loudly to a village-size crowd was the kind of sight that left an impact on everyone.

Sue sure didn’t expect to share the ‘got scared by Solstice during her and Sundance’s speech after getting back from their trip’ trait with Joy, but this wacky world—yet again—turned out to be weirder than fiction.

If she had the reach to lean in and hug the toothy girl, she would have done so without hesitation.

Instead, they both savored the late morning in their own ways as they marched on, one step at a time. Some steps were smaller, some larger, some even limped and needed others to wait for them—but it was alright. For the first time in too long, they didn’t have to rush.

Unfortunately, the quaint walk wouldn’t remain such forever.

Having to walk past the raised platform the Elders sat on last night sent shudders through her spike. She didn’t want to think about how close Moonview got to a point of no return, to that assault on Newmoon happening because of Root’s sheer genocidal insistence. A part of her hoped it wouldn’t have happened even without her intervention, that eventually his fury or others' motivation would burn out, but... she didn’t know.

Thanks to her actions, she didn’t have to know either; the thought bringing her some not-unearned pride.

...

Hold on.

Right as their group was turning a corner away from the scene, something small caught Sue’s attention. She was deaf to Joy’s confused squeaks, walking closer to make out just what the bright item was. It almost looked like it was levitating, and—

No, it wasn’t levitating.

It was stuck in a tree.

She only got a brief glimpse of Juniper’s arrows, both before the owl’s attempt at Solstice’s life and before, but for better or worse, the sight was forever burned into her memory. This one had struck a tree with enough force to embed the entire arrow head into the wood, leaving just the orange fletching visible. It wasn’t here before, it couldn’t have been here before, others would’ve called it out, but what did it—

Wait.

Who sat there?


As unforgettable as yesterday’s events were, recalling such an unimportant detail proved harder than Sue expected. A part of her didn’t even want to bother; there was no way in hell it wasn’t Solstice, but Sue could’ve sworn she sat at the other side. And if not for her, then...

...

Root.

Before the realization of the second worst person around having redirected her vendetta over to the first worst person around could sink in, Sue’s focus was snapped away by a loud, ethereal whistle. Familiar, but not enough so to do more than jog her memory.

And that held true for the being that had used it to catch her attention, too.

“Ahahaha~! Can’t believe I found you before ssshe did~.”

Both their pumpkin-shaped bottom half, and thinner, orange-haired top half laughed at that realization, leaving everyone else just confused. Sue was too stunned by her earlier revelation to react right away, something that Solstice wasn’t burdened by.

“What do you mean, Soot?”

“Oohhh, Lillssss wrapped up her load for today, she ran riiiight off and hasssss been looking for you~!”

Beyond unleashing an entire flock of non-mutated butterflies straight into Sue’s stomach, the ghostly pumpkin’s claim got her quite curious.

“W-was she really that excited?”

“AHAHAHAHAHA!”

Sue neither expected to be laughed at today, nor have said laughter result in such an intense fluster on her end.

“Of coursssse she wasss~! Hasss been for daysss~. Goodnesss, I remember when we firsssst got a glimpssse of you, when you sssat at the clearing with Poppy. She just wouldn’t sssstop~! ‘Aaaah, she’s so cute’, ‘Aaaah, she saved Sparkie’, ‘Aaaah who even am I in comparison’, you know, sssssilly things. Had to shove her a few timessss just to get her to act~!”

If Sue got embarrassed even a single iota more, she would’ve caught on fire there and then.

“And dare I ssssay it’ssss worked out—ohhhh, ahahahah! Oh my my my, you’re blushing harder than even Lillsssss~. Made for each other, you two~.”

The once-human didn’t get spared from either Soot’s, or her companion’s resulting laughter. Even Joy chimed in despite her limited understanding, falsifying Sue’s earlier hypothesis.

She sure got even more embarrassed, and was persistently not catching on fire.

Even if a part of her really wanted to.

“Hope she runssss into you sssssooon~. Curioussss ghost on your chest, by the by~.”

As they headed away and Sue recovered from her flustered overdose, Soot’s parting remark caught her attention. They realized Twinkle was a ghost, and they sounded quite ghostly themselves. Ditto with Hazel yesterday, who Sue knew was a ‘ghost’, ridiculous categorization as it was. Could ghosts sense other ghosts? Was Soot a ghost? Whichever ‘typing’ represented affinity for plants seemed to be a given, but ‘ghost’ felt rather far-fetched.

Now I wonder who else has been a ghost all along without me realizing.

The amusing thought didn’t last very long, though. The follow-up realization of ‘if they’re a ghost, that means they must’ve died and come back as a ghost’ steered Sue into just feeling sorry. She wasn’t even surprised to realize that must’ve happened to Twinkle. They sure wouldn’t be getting away without some extra affection of their own—

!

Sue felt the sudden shift in the air hit her like a slap in the face; calm immediately replaced with an alarm that wasn’t even her own. She looked at Solstice out of reflex, her expression aghast. Before she could speak up, the Mayor passed Comet into her arms; her accompanying words as insistent as they were brief.

“^Sue, go to Sundance’s house now. Don’t wait for me, I’ll be there soon.^”

Without a moment of elaboration more, the older Forest Guardian turned around and headed out, her march as fast as it was possible for it to be short of breaking into running. This wasn’t despair, this was something else, something even more worrisome.

Fear.

The once-human was torn almost exactly evenly between obeying Solstice’s request and following her to see what the hell just happened. The latter impulse lasted just long enough to make her turn the nearby corner—

And then, she saw them.

A Forest Guardian in the distance, at the other end of the plaza they were at the edge of, the one Willow and flower medic were teaching at in that very moment. At first, it didn’t look like they had noticed them—only for them to turn around to face her in the time it took Sue to blink.

On their body, tattoos like Solstice’s. Different, more angular pattern.

In their mind, perfect calmness, standing out despite the distance.

At the other end of their gaze, Solstice.

They only spared Sue the briefest of glimpses—enough to send a jolt of freezing fear through her spine and spike. It made Solstice glance at her for just a moment, scared for her, before turning back to the stranger and speaking up with the loudest, most forceful delivery Sue had seen her speak with yet.

“^You are not welcome here, Solanum.^”

Laughter. Cold, mocking. Sue felt a mind far more powerful than her forcibly link with her, the sensation harsh enough to stagger her.

And then; the stranger spoke.

“^I wouldn’t have thought you would grow even more insolent towards your mother... Snowmoon.^”



If you're confused about the species of the characters and want them spoiled, I've set up a page listing the species of all the featured characters in each chapter!

If you want to discuss the story, I've set up a Discord server for it! (and my other writings)

Also check out my other main fic, From the Vast!
 
Chapter 5 artwork, "I got You"
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I commissioned an artwork of Sue and Solstice's first meeting AND OH MY DUCK IT CAME OUT SO WELL @SWEET_MINTALITY IS AMAZING. I LOVE how Psychic came out, especially in Solstice's eyes.

Yes I'm aware it's not an exact match for the events described but the changes make for a better visual depiction. My tentative name for it is "I got You" (works both as an immediate threat (what Sue initially perceives it to be), and as a long term sentiment they end up having towards each other), but the members of my Discord server also suggested some other ones like "First Encounter", "Close Call", or "Helping Hand", and I'm still not 1000% decided.

With this artwork, I also bring news--alas, bad news. I'll be quite a bit longer before I get back to Another Way. I spent the entire holiday break on writing the climax of From the Vast + going through its own editing sweep, so I'm taking the long overdue break in January. But since From the Vast is only about 4 chapters + Epilogue away from being finished, I decided that once my break is over, I'll double down on it just to get it done. I'll need to reread Another Way once I get back to it anyway, might as well put that off a bit longer so that when I do that I can devote 100% of my focus to it. Which at this pace will be somewhere in... late February/early March.

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