Sue’s strained breathing was the only sound filling their nook of the clearing by the time she was done with her retelling.
She wasn’t sure when exactly Spark had left, only that she did at some point, and the Forest Guardian 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 with Sue’s every sentence, culminating with holding her 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 grave 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 time Sue was done with her retelling, though, the 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—Alastor’s attack, the tension, the near-death—but also at what happened afterwards. Tears gathered in her eyes when she mentioned trying to sleep last night, waking up, her angry outburst earlier today…
So far from the Sue the leafy dancer knew, the impact of the stress over the past couple days made abundantly clear. It made Lilly ask about it—and then again, a few sentences later. About how it all impacted Sue, about whether she was holding alright, whether she needed more help.
Each time, Sue answered with nervous shaking, a 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 rejection.
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 Sue’s struggles, the nigh-indescribable pressure of knowing that her 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 running away because they obviously wouldn’t want to stick with an extra-dimensional alien that might just disappear on the spot...
I’m being so fucking scummy.
The thought stirred more and more tears inside Sue as they both sat in silence, Lilly’s hug tightening by the moment. 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?” Lilly whispered, her leafy arms holding the Forest Guardian that bit closer.
Strained breaths were Sue’s only answer as her body fruitlessly tried to calm down. Regardless of how deserved it was, Lilly’s concern was there and downright palpable to the Forest Guardian. It was 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.” Sue answered, her voice weak. “I’m sorry, it’s—”
“You talk want anything?”
So many things. All of them utterly, hopelessly terrifying.
Sue shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry, Lilly.” And it was the plant girl’s concern, her care, her desire to help, 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. Sue was glad they had largely just calmed down as they all sat here, still clinging to her many minutes later. “Can lift look?” Lilly asked.
“Sure, just not inside the bag. Heh...” Sue chuckled. It was the most mirthless chuckle of her life, and despite having known 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 cup the bundle’s side with her hand. Her touch had an immediate impact, the little one relaxing as they wrapped a tentacle around her hand again. “Sorry, they got scared there,” she explained, wanting to shrivel.
“No sorry!” Lilly reassured. “Glad help you.” Her 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?”
Sue’s attempt to parse the sentence failed, leaving her blinking a few 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.
Were those their… “I... I think that’s their eyes,” Sue pointed out, stunned. “They’re looking at us.”
“Think you?”
It was a hunch for which Sue didn’t have any actual 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, singing, “Hiiii! Hello little. Here Moonview, Lilly I.”
“I don’t think they can underst—”
“This Sue! She you find,” Lilly added, turning the bag’s hole to face Sue and giggling at her stupefied expression. “Sue, welcome say!”
Right, right, gotta greet them, uhhh—
“H-hello there. I-I hope you’re alright,” Sue tried to smile, her expression so shaky a stray gust of wind could’ve easily blown it away.
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!” Lilly swooned. “Awwwwww!”
The dancer was as elated 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—it seemed they understood that much, at least. “Yeah, they—they did. Wish I could speak with you and them at the same time,” Sue sighed.
“Can not you?”
Sue shook her head. “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,^” a tired, weary voice added, making both women jump as they looked 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... she expected to see worse, deep down.
“Hi hi Solstice! Talk with Sue I—” Lilly stopped as she glanced up at the sky 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 chuckled, the sound accompanied by the world’s weakest smile.
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 Sue could even respond 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,” she gasped from between Lilly’s arms. “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 Forest Guardian 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... doing okay overall, Sue?^” the Mayor asked as she sat down beside her student.
“I’m... fine. What... what happens now? With the night kin and all...”
Solstice flinched in her seat, making Sue regret asking. She couldn’t hold her pupil’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,^” Solstice explained, distraught.
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?^” she asked.
Sue’s chuckle was so weak it was almost inaudible. “Yeah, I suppose. It’s more like they ran into me. They...” she bit her tongue, uncertain of how Solstice would respond to the little 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, then 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 they could be, but from what you’ve described they must be very lonely—^” the Mayor paused, suddenly realizing something. Her sudden mental shift made Sue flinch, her heart rate jumping as she awaited Solstice’s words, hoping it wouldn’t involve any more misfortune coming the lil’ ghost’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 Solstice was done, Sue could barely breathe.
Every single word of that hurt, the hand that once cupped the lil’ ghost 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,^” Solstice stressed. “^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 letting the idle, suffocating silence continue.
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 Sue the utmost effort to keep her tears from spilling all over her cheeks in response. Such a simple sentence, such an immense relief, especially after the struggles and horrors of the past few days. “Th-thank you.”
For a while, Sue just sat in silence as she was being tended to; each of Solstice’s many pets 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 in to his curiosity after sensing the stranger on his friend’s lap. With his mom feeling better and now Sue as well, 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 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,” Sue shushed, holding the stranger closer. “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,^” Solstice cooed. “^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 Sue up, leaving her uncertain 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,^” Solstice explained.
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 did Solstice mean by ‘just changing a name’? Wouldn’t there be an entire hassle—
...
No, there wouldn’t.
As blatantly obvious a realization as it was in hindsight, there wasn’t anyone here keeping track of people’s names. No magical pieces of paper or plastic tied to a singular, specific string of letters, 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,” Sue muttered, filling a bit stupid. “That’s just... not how my world worked, my bad.”
Solstice smiled. “^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,” Sue sighed.
“^I would’ve been screwed with this being my third name, ha...^”
“Third?”
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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. “^Yes. 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,^” Solstice smiled, holding her son closer—much to his immediate, elated squeaks.
Both Solstice and Sue needed the resulting wave of giggles more than words could convey. “Moon Child…” Sue continued, “is that how Comet’s... eh...”
“^Yes, that’s the name for his form specifically. He’ll evolve into his second form when he’s close to three years old. 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.^”
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’,^” the Mayor nodded, her voice growing quiet.
The younger Forest Guardian flinched. “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,^” Solstice figured. Her reasoning made sense, but that didn’t mean she’d get to escape further comfort from her pupil, delivered with all the confidence Sue could muster. “^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?” Sue tilted her head.
“^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?” she asked, somewhere between offended and dumbstruck. “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,^” Solstice snickered, before stopping herself at the cold dread going through her body.
“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?” she asked.
Solstice took a deep breath. “^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 is 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?” Sue asked.
“^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 had been accomplished, 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 tattooed 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. Any curiosity about her old names was immediately discarded—considering how much of a deal that ‘true’ name was for her tribe, it was probably a bad idea to ask about the ‘false’ ones. “Looks... painful,” Sue intelligently observed.
“^On its own, it probably would’ve been. Thankfully not, it was a very joyous ritual, a celebration of truly becoming a part of the Pale Lady’s herd—much singing and dancing was had. You have to drink a sacred concoction before others can 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 she 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, I—^”
Sue didn’t know what to say to make her mentor feel better. She hasn't gotten 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,” Sue whispered.
Comet squeaked worriedly, hardly 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,^” Solstice shuddered. “That’s my sin to bear. You shouldn’t worry about it, Sue.^” Before her pupil could get a word in edgewise, she 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 sucked in its own right, but it was probably best for her 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 them when you see them. They have their 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 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,” Sue wondered. 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,” she continued, smiling. “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; it was time 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 knot 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 they’ve been using to observe their surroundings 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 reassured, gently patting the quaking bundle. 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 could it be to find someone as outlandishly looking as Patina?
----------------------------------------
As it turned out, ‘quite’.
A solid half an hour of searching later, Sue wasn’t doing any better with directions than before. She’d checked almost every landmark in Moonview 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—which meant it probably was time to indeed ask someone for help, much to her dismay.
Burdening a passerby with being a lost tourist wasn’t exactly her dream activity following the chaos of the past couple days. 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 the faces around her, much to her annoyance.
At least nobody is staring at me anymore.
The realization helped, but only just. Sue would need a distraction soon unless she wanted to be left with just her thoughts again, and after the turmoil of this morning, she’d rather not. One suicidal tangent was plenty for a long, long time. Now, just to find… there they were. 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—Duck’s sake.
The once-human wasn’t even sure whether her mind subconsciously erased the walking bouquet and the white-navy cat from her vision, or if she’d just overlooked them, but either way, the awareness of their presence beside the builder 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.
She had almost shied away from that unfortunate result in the 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.
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. They answered with 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 even 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 that particular villager before, Sue hadn’t made the connection between them and the name ‘Patina’ until now. They were bipedal, roughly her size, with an almost entirely red body covered by variously shaped plates of greenish gray metal. An honest-to-Duck flame ponytail sprouted from the back of their head, contrasting their expressionless face and 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!” the blue rhino roared. “Gah darn it, woulda 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 builder, 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 and three more from the grave, the bespoke Daisy spared 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. Sue used the brief lull in conversation to grip her aching hand as forcefully as she could as she checked 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.
“^Sure seems our arrival came as a shock, eh Sue?^” Patina asked. Her voice was the most clearly telepathic one Sue had heard 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 Sue could mumble out, though. “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!” the rhino lady added, smiling and gesturing.
“^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—”
Daisy rebuked, “Naaah, nothin’ ta worry ‘bout, Sue! Glad ah could help ya out!” Her words were delivered with all the earnesty it was physically possible for a voice to contain, and followed up on with a roaring chuckle.
“^Daisy’s right, it’s really not a problem,^” Patina reassured, walking closer and examining Sue’s crutch. “^Besides, this will be a more interesting thing to tackle than anything else I could be doing, haha.^”
“See?!” the rhino slapped her knee. “Anywho, time for the ol’ me to go! Take care and I hope ya feel better soon, Sue!”
“Th-thank you, Daisy...” Sue mumbled, still overwhelmed.
“Anytime, hun.”
With Daisy taking her leave to the sound of mighty laughter, 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 giggling 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,^” Patina gestured, “^let’s get you to the workshop, eh?^”
Don’t know what a workshop has 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. Though, with that other voice being willing to speak up, the logical part of her brain managed to push through the tropical storm of anxiety and doubt for long enough to grow confident that asking about it was probably fine. Probably. “U-ummm—”
“^Confused about the ol’ bell, ah?^” Patina chuckled.
“What—”
“^Me,^” the other voice answered. 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,^” Patina explained.
Having an actual name for the metallic voice was appreciated, but it didn’t make it any clearer where it was coming from. 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,^” Celestica clarified.
“^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.
Patina must’ve overheard her thought process—or at least enough of it to burst into fiery laughter at the realization. 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,^” Patina clarified.
Oh. “I’m sorry to hear. Was it a... sickness—”
“^A coordinated assassination attempt.^”
Ducking Duck.
“^Lemme give the background,^” Patina chimed in. “^So, we both hail from quite a ways away, from what people in Moonview call ‘the divine mountain’.^”
“^Triune’s Throne.^”
“^Yep, that’s 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!^” the flame-woman chuckled, unbothered by the graveness of her parent’s state.
Celestica painted the picture, “^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,^” Celestica explained, their voice as heavy as always. “^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...” Sue put it lightly.
“^Throne’s peak strains mortal senses. Our watch was to protect it and others from it in equal measure,^” Celestica continued.
“^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,^” Celestica answered.
“^Her shrine there is so much larger than Moonview’s, ha! Much uglier too, though,^” Patina chuckled.
“^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 had 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 better question. “H-how’d it go?”
“^Well...^” Patina trailed off, some of her earlier carelessness finally replaced with seriousness. “^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 them, 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,^” Patina insisted to an audience of one once-human who knew almost nothing about evolution in the first place.
“^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 mostly upbeat through it all, taking Sue aback. Guess she really was used to explaining 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,^” Patina smiled.
“^This existence is preferable to my previous one, overall,^” Celestica reassured.
“^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 of 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,^” Patina sighed. “^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. “^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?” Sue asked, her voice dreamy.
“^Ore. Copper, iron, a bit of zinc too, all from our quarry,^” Patina explained. ^“Some of it’s quite old, likely corroded to hell. Been trying to figure out Aurelia‘s technique for it, but no luck so far!^”
An unfamiliar name perked Sue’s attention up. “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—I’ll figure it out sometime, too many ideas for acids and solutions, not enough time to just sort all this mess out and move everything where it belongs.^”
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—^” Patina began, the spring having returned to her 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.^”