The pain was gone. The physical pain, at least. Casting 'Undone' healed the blood on my head, but the evidence of the damage remained. I could only cast the spell on what I could directly interact with, and I left the hair, and some skin, with the the grave keeper and the corpse. Patches on the side of my head were very visibly missing hair, and the ribbon I had been using to maintain my topknot was gone. Livia had tried to stop and ask me about this as I fled past her and to my room, but I didn't stop to speak with her. I couldn't. I was still trembling. Still fighting to keep my mind and body together.

It is often said that what you can't see deserves more fear than what you can. That, by putting a face to a monster, it loses its fangs. Perhaps that is true for some monsters, or for some people. But to me, it couldn't be further from the truth. My entire life, I wanted to believe monsters were for storybooks. Or at least, the real monsters had the same faces as in the stories. The huge fangs and growling stomachs. This is one reason it hurt so thoroughly when I learned my own sister was a monster. It was one reason it hurt even more when I learned that was a lie.

Because beasts with sharp teeth and glowing eyes may be more frightening when covered by the dark. But people? When people are monsters, you can't tell. Not always. They look like kindly neighbors, rich suitors, and mousy blonde girls desperate to be just like their grandmothers. They just look like people. And there is nothing more frightening than that, to me. I had been killed, brutally and mercilessly, over and over and over again. I hadn't come close to processing that. But each time... I could picture the monsters in fairy tales. A dead man, re-animated by a spell. The earth itself. All terrifying ways to be killed, but all faceless.

Learning it was Margaret, a woman I didn't know well but admired... It left me trembling. I'd thought she was coming to help me. But she wanted me dead. She'd wanted me dead, so many times. I couldn't understand it. I could understand Camilla, or even Hadley. But why Margaret? She'd been angry I'd stopped what she had done... but I couldn't grasp that either. What she yelled at me made no sense. I did try to understand. If my theory, and what sounded like hers, was correct... The Quiet was a horrible way to die. If the soul was actually being ripped from people's bodies, leaving them empty, it made me shudder.

It would explain a lot. The way the body changed after death. Like an organic statue. The reason my time spell failed. Like my missing hair, if the soul was gone, I couldn't put it back by reversing time on the body. It was the next step that lost me. I don't know how they do it, without their soul, but these people... they still feel when they come back. Sisen had made that clear to me. They still feel pain. Misery. Rage. What she was doing to bring them back... it wasn't better. Their soul had already been stolen from them; taking Luna's gift was only a greater indignity. Further torture.

I couldn't wrap my head around it. But that inspired further questions. Questions that burrowed into my mind like worms in an apple. Margaret didn't make sense to me. But one thing I understood was, the Quiet made her angry. Murderous, even. Which meant she wasn't involved with the mage who was causing the Quiet. Or stealing people's spirits, if I was right. The Quiet and the violent awakening were separate issues. Which begged the question... why was her aura teal? The same as the sparks I followed every day. The same as the spell of the loop. The color of my aura and another mage interacting.

Then, of course, was the fact that she hadn't actually done this the first time around. No one was fighting the Quiet by trying to force the bodies back to life. Not until... not until the teal magic was created. It was exactly what I was worried about. My spell had made it possible somehow but... using the focus of the other mage somehow. Whatever it was. I didn't know. I needed more information. That was what finally brought me back to myself. The same thing that had started me on this path in the first place. A goal.

I knew who was doing at least part of this. I almost understood how. At least, I had a theory. One I meant to research before I was attacked again. I needed to do that, and something else that had been bugging me for a long time tugged at my consciousness. It was a memory like an itch, one I had seen repeatedly. A boy, digging behind a well-kept grave. I couldn't remember what times he did it, but I knew he would. I also knew he'd done it multiple times just on the first day. If I could find and speak to him, I might be able to find a clue about Margaret.

I considered waiting for him but... this loop was shot. It wasn't safe to wait outside the cemetery. It probably wasn't even safe for people to be around me. I felt my breath start to shorten as I considered the choice between leaving the girls to the fire and having them killed because they were with me. I had to stop that before I spiraled. 'It's alright Mars. You don't have to do this alone. Go to the library. It's quiet, it's secluded. I can send someone with a note.' I told myself. But it wasn't so simple. How could I focus if I didn't know the note was delivered, or they didn't leave for some reason?

I decided to just go to them. I knew for a fact I could stop the quieted, although I had been using a lot of aura. I could protect them if they were attacked while I was there. I couldn't do anything if they didn't do what some note said. I had only met them that morning, after all. I stood from my bed, clenched my fists, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I had to get moving. I finally descended the stairs, and almost left without speaking to Livia again. Then I had to stop as something occurred to me.

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"Hey, Livia, Marcus..." I hesitantly greeted.

"Hi, Mars," She responded. Her voice was cheerful but I picked up the concern behind it and felt guilty for ignoring her the first time. To her, she had only had a couple of interactions with me, but she was still reaching out when she saw me in distress. A woman like that deserved my attention. The least I could do was give her the time of day. "What... uh, what happened to you?" She asked. Marcus turned around and gave me a good look as well.

"Aethon's light, you look worse than my niece when she tried to cut her own hair!" he bellowed.

I gave both an awkward look and rubbed the back of my neck. "It's... hard to explain. But it's related to the Quiet," I answered a bit awkwardly.

"The Quiet isn't re-" Livia began and before Marcus could scowl at her I cut her off.

"I know that you know it is. Don't ask me how, but I know, Livia. I know you want this to be a safe place. A place where the cold, the Quiet, and the misery can't reach until it has to. I admire that, I do. But please, listen to me. It matters," I plead. Marcus gave me a serious look and Livia drew her lips to a line.

"Welp. I'm listening," Marcus agreed immediately. Livia gave him an irritated but affectionate side-eye before nodding.

"Alright. Say what you need to say, Mars," she agreed with half a grimace. She looked around the room at a few snickering patrons before adding, "And I'm not acknowledging the Quiet is anything more than a rumor. But you have as much right as anyone to tell stories."

I sighed. It would have to do. "Um, right. Well, I don't know about the Quiet itself but... has anyone heard about people... coming back? After they Quiet takes them? Coming back a bit more... violent?" I asked the room.

"Well," Marcus pondered, rubbing his chin with one hand. "I don't know about all that, but... I have this friend, Virgil. He and his husband, Albin are both missing. Well, missing is a strong word. They didn't show up for a couple minor things, that's all. Anyway, it's just a rumor, mind you, but... well, some of his neighbors said they heard screaming this morning. A lad in his yard said something hit the window before it stopped. Something red. I thought it was just a kid telling tales but..." The implication of his theory clearly occurred to him as he trailed off and he shuddered. "Well. I suppose anything is possible." His last words had a hitch in them I recognized all too well. A pall descended on the room and as the banter of the morning took on a darker tone.

"I... I heard something about that," another voice added. I turned to see Pontius, the man who was always the most upset when Marcus died. "People... with red, sorry eyes. I don't know about violence but... I heard, just from a friend mind you... I heard they got pretty aggressive if you got near them." I nodded at this.

"It's... all true," I announced to a silent room. "And Livia, you need to close this place down before midday tomorrow." This was the first thing I had to do before I left. Because I didn't know how safe it would be to come back the next day, and I had to at least try to prevent the tragedy that would take place if I didn't. It was a big ask, but if I was right about Livia, I knew it would be possible. Because she was here as a kindness. As an escape. And whatever she said, she knew the danger was real.

She looked at me with concern for a moment, her eyes flicking to the side of my head. "Mars... a lot of these people have nowhere else to be. Even if you are right, I can't take this away from them. They need a place to just... exist, as best they can, until..." she whispered and I understood. But she was going to lose that the next day no matter what they did. They all were. I bit my lip as I examined her apologetic face. I looked at Marcus and immediately understood he wasn't going to back me up. He was one of the people who needed this. But he was also going to be the one to end it.

I was tempted to explain my magic, the loop, and everything I had seen. But they wouldn't believe me. They may believe me about the Quiet. They may believe me about the danger. If I said, or showed them the right thing. But when it came to my magic? They wouldn't. No matter what I did. I didn't know why, but I knew they wouldn't. Unless I could use it right in front of them, but none of my spells would convince them of what I needed. "I understand," I replied, "But... Livia. There are a lot of people here. You know what is going to happen, don't you? I know you don't know me, not really. But you know what is going to happen here, eventually. Just... think about it, alright?"

It wasn't much but it was the best I could do. She gave me a gentle nod. "Alright. I'll think about it," she agreed. I didn't think it would be enough but... I had tried. And I wasn't trying to save everyone in every loop, not anymore. I couldn't stay here until she agreed. I desperately wished I had a spell to just show my memories to her. To let her see what I had seen, like the teal aura had done to me when it reminded me of my past. But time magic alone couldn't do that. I didn't think she was going to close down, so I sighed.

"Thanks," I said in resignation. I then turned to leave before pausing and looking back over my shoulder. "Do you happen to know Margaret, the grave keeper?" I inquired. She looked up at me, having returned to cleaning her bar when she thought I was leaving.

She pursed her lips and pressed one finger against them in thought before answering. "Yes, I know her. Poor woman. She was never the same after... well. That's not important. Why do you ask?" My heart started to beat faster as I turned and took a seat at the bar. I felt the deep anxiety like a stone twisting my gut around it. I didn't want to hear about Margaret's past. Just thinking about her forced sweat down the side of my head. Hearing more about her would be like seeing her face. It would bring the monster closer. But I needed to know. I needed to understand.

"Can you... tell me about her? What kind of person she is, how she feels about the Quiet, she was never the same as what? Since what?" I requested, a hint of a tremor in my voice.

"That's an odd change of subject. Are you... interested in her?" she replied with a raised eyebrow. I waved her off.

"No, nothing like that. I don't have any interest in that sort of thing. But... I need to know about her. How long has she been an earth mage, for instance," I responded to a look of bafflement on the other woman's face.

"Earth mage? Margaret doesn't know any magic. I've seen her digging graves more times than I want to think about. Never once has she used earth magic," Livia challenged.