It got better, after a couple days.
I stopped waking up with the expectation that the corners would blur and blend if I stared too long, that I’d look up into the night sky to find my star hanging there, that I’d be able to laze about each day entertaining whatever passing fancy I had. Reminding myself of that last bit each morning proved particularly sobering, and made me miss that errant dream more often than I’d like to admit. The habit of fixing my glasses came back to me like it never left, I got accustomed to the weight of my focuses in my sleeve again, and I fell back into the routine of my everyday life.
The same could mostly be said for Penelope. Later in the week, when I sent Stephen to follow up from Moonflower Clinic, I also asked him to inquire into Penelope. Supposedly, she was also fine— plagued by a few night terrors, something that could’ve been my fault, but they assured Stephen was perfectly normal— and had been visited by a couple friends recently, which did her well. They also let me know that while the client wasn’t particularly enthused by the ramshackle, half-formed memory marble, they still deemed it sufficient for their purposes, and that payment would be available in the coming days.
All in all, it felt as if the event had never happened. There was a visceral disconnect between the broken Empire I saw in the memoir, and how everyone around me was reacting now. Their behavior made me feel strange and out of place.
It’s not particularly strange, I had to remind myself. For everyone else, those events occurred twelve years ago. They’ve had time to come to terms, since.
Still, a part of me was probably never going to get over the fact that I lived nearly four months in the span of a few hours.
Even in the days after, I couldn’t help but mull over the sheer intricacy of what had happened. I felt that the descriptor of it being a work of ‘Enchantment’ a tad bit inaccurate— honestly, the mechanics strayed closer towards Dreamspinning than anything else— but the magnitude and the complexity of such a spell was something to be admired. Even if, admittedly, it had caused mass, indiscriminate death— the underlying principles would certainly serve as food for academic thought, but was certainly not a mechanism I was intent on solving. Ultimately, I did my best to leave the event behind me.
Some things stayed, though, and prickled like a thorn in my boot.
For one, concerning my feelings around the precise nature of my father’s death— I was overall less conflicted than I expected. He was still dead, all that truly changed was that I knew what killed him now. Receiving that information on the back of multiple— potentially traumatic events, verdict was still out on whether I was… traumatized— made everything feel… wrong.
There had been no fanfare, no trumpets, no world-changing reveal— no, just another victim claimed by the coup. Another tragic event shoved between ledgers filled with them. It felt in some ways wrong to have just… received that information through no merit of my own, to simply have had it dropped into my lap unceremoniously like a single letter amidst a dozen more, equally dreadful letters.
Your life isn’t a story— there’ll be no pleasant arc where you pleasantly extract profound meaning from otherwise horrifying events.
Secondly, the life I had lived for four months still seemed infinitely real. While I didn’t remember the precise moments leading up to my impact with the ground— mostly, I remembered a lot of adrenaline and fear— I did remember everything that had led up to it: the desperation, the worry, the reasons I used to resolve myself to escape…
I want to make that dream a reality…
It was a pretty sentiment, and following the pile of things that had been following it, served pretty well as motivation for me to actually fix the problems in my life, but…
You keep backing out of it the moment you don’t have worse consequences hanging over you.
I recognized the cycle I was stuck in: horrible event, bad things happen to me, I get upset and cry, then I promise myself to do better, then I don’t. Rinse and repeat ad nauseam till I truly died. I could only really hope that this series of events would finally be the tipping point.
Of course, that hope grew thinner with each passing day. Despite my stated resolve, I’d still distracted myself with ‘recovering’ the entire week I stayed inside, hoping— despite my rhetoric— that Arthur would do me the good favor of showing up to talk. He— predictably— didn’t, an expectation I silently cursed myself for believing in— but it was fine. I resolved myself to show up on his doorstep instead— an action I reasoned was probably better than him showing up on mine.
Or at least, I was planning to, until I received my first assignment from the Warden.
[][][]
The briefing took place in a rundown— honestly, dilapidated— apartment block. It was set firmly below the network of bridges, nestled out of sight in the nooks of shadowy crevices and long-abandoned embrasures. It overlooked an equally forgotten road, slick with half-melted ice and dirty with muddy snow. When I’d first arrived, I’d thought I’d had the wrong building— but no, after double, then triple checking the letter, this was it: A blank, emotionless wall of crumbling stone brick stuffed into the shadow of an ancient, frozen bridge that I doubted anyone used on a daily basis.
The room itself wasn’t much better— small and austere, exposed stone brick merging haphazardly into sheer stone, and a single boarded window let in a crack of pale light. A single table stood at the rooms center, large spreads of blown-up maps taking up its entirety. Clara stood off to one side, who shot me a professional nod as I entered, devoid of any of the reassurance she’d offered me week ago, before turning back towards the table. Arthur turned as well, giving me a small smile and polite wave, a gesture that had my throat closing up.
Yeah— that bridge is forever burnt. Best turn back— shut up. I tore my gaze to the table itself, joining the two of them.
Clara began as soon as I got to the table. “Great, now that everyone’s here I can start the mission briefing. The objective is simple, following the lead on the ledgers I found last time, we’ll infiltrating a secondary warehouse that the Warden suspects is involved with the Virgulta smuggling group. The plan is relatively easy; we’ll be sneaking into an airship docking station slash warehouse that’s located directly above us on the mountain. It’s built post-war, so we’ll be entering through a door on the roof. We’ll get onto that roof from this one—“ she tapped another square beside the building at the center of the map. “The Warden has someone who will give us roof access. From there, we’ll head towards the third floor…”
Clara grabbed the edge of the map, before pulling it away. There was a second map below the first— though instead of showing the rooftops of nearby buildings, it was a displayed floor plan of the warehouse. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Arthur’s expression— no change, solemn, serious, his eyebrows knit as if he was forcing down his restlessness. That boded badly for my apology.
“We’ll be entering from here—“ Clara tapped a far point on the west end of the floor, then dragged her finger around “— and we’ll be making our way through these series of hallways in order to reach this staircase.” She swept back the second map, and the third map below that to reveal a floor plan of the first floor. “We’ll be headed towards the locker room to pick up spare uniforms, from there, we’ll work alongside the workers to haul and move cargo.”
I raised a brow. “We’re planning to disguise ourselves as workers?”
“It’s not unusual for large companies in manual labor to have a rotating cast of hire-ons. The Empire’s persistent staffing problem will work in our favor.” She turned back to the map. “There’s also a large shipment coming through at the same time. We’ll do some scouting, see if we can open up the crates at all, then loop back around towards this—“ she tapped a room on the far side of the loading bay “— check the past and current ledgers after they’re filled in, and cross reference the information. Then we’ll get out through the same method.”
Clara paused, glancing between Arthur and I for questions before continuing, her voice rote.
“Of course… if, for one reason or another, we’re unable to get that far, and the alarm is raised, we’ll cut our losses and leave through our entry point. There will be armed guards, but they’ll be watching for anyone who looks like a thief, not the hires… Also, we can’t bring any weapons or our bags with us, the uniforms should have pockets, but only bring what you can inconspicuously carry. Anything you want to leave can be done so here. In the event we are separated, or injured, affected should reconvene in a nearby safe house— There are maps of the surrounding area beneath these floor plans. Everything else will be following standard Keeper protocol— you two are up to date on it?”
We nodded, and Clara let out a slow breath, glancing from side to side. “Alright, any additional questions?”
I frowned. “How are we going to get across to the warehouse roof?”
Clara gave me a dry look. “We’ll be jumping across. You can make a twelve foot gap, can’t you?”
My frown grew, but I nodded. I’d jumped farther in Talon’s practicals. “Right… and… not to say that I don’t trust the Warden’s judgment, but is it not dangerous for all of us to go? Would it not be safer for a single person to go in?”
Be logical about it, Estelle. It’s not like the Warden even likes you, it wouldn’t be surprising if she exclusively assigned you three to something that would be easier with less people.
“It’s something of a trial…” Clara admitted. “The Warden wants to see if we can work together, and this is… relatively speaking, low-stakes. But it does have very real consequences should we fail.”
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I inclined my head. “Understood.”
It felt better to confirm it, at least.
Arthur spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically subdued. “Uh… what do we do if we can’t get into the crates?”
“We have to, in order to verify the contents. Check for false bottoms, all that.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Arthur had raised an interesting question, I said: “But what if we’re in a position where we can’t— or they see us opening it?”
“Then we have to salvage what we can and leave. If there are too many guards for us to evade, or we can’t find a way into the crates, then there’s no other option. We won’t know until we get there.”
“… Got it.” Not exactly reassuring, but it sounded simple enough. I caught Arthur’s eye from across the table. He lowered his gaze.
“Any more questions?” Clara looked to us both, before nodding to herself. “Great. We leave to make the climb in an hour. Work out whatever it is you need to work out.”
Then, without another word, Clara exited to another room, leaving me alone with Arthur.
Right, right— you wanted to talk to him anyway, now’s a good a time as any. I glanced up, only to find him turned around, making a good show of being interested in whatever was out the window. Which wasn’t much, seeing as how the window itself was mostly boarded up, and the only neighboring structures were an unused bridge. But what if—
I bit the inside of my lip. No. No. It has to be now. No more delaying— you always delay, and then you never change.
I took a steadying breath. “A— Arthur.”
Arthur’s shoulders jumped, and he slowly turned. His lips were a thin line, and his eyebrows were knitted.
What if he’s done with you forever? Anxiety whispered in my ear, sending my heartbeat racing. The moment you decided you wanted to fix things, he’s up and gone, fully given up. You didn’t even realize what you two had before you lost it.
I bit my lip until the sentiment vanished. First step’s the most difficult— I won’t know what happens until I try. “I— I want to apologize… I… haven’t been a very good friend to you.”
Arthur startled, a look of concerned panic growing on his face. “Wait— I think you—“
“— I know you think I’ve been a good friend. But I haven’t, not really.”
“… but…”
“Please.” My hands clenched. “Let me finish, first. Please.”
He paused, a furrowed expression on his face, before nodding, saying softly, gently: “… Okay. Okay, Estelle.”
I pushed past the growing lump in my throat. “I haven’t been a good friend to you— I’ve been… intensively and self-destructively… depressed. I’ve refused to reach out even though I know you mean well… It’s— it’s not fair to you, or me, to continually accept your help and reject it in the same breath.”
Arthur looked like he wanted to say something, but kept quiet. Silently, I thanked him before taking another breath.
“So… I uh— I guess what should come next is the things I never told you, that I should’ve… because I think the truth is more important than saving our feelings in the short term.” My mind reeled back to the dinner with the Warden, and I let out a breath, letting my gaze fall to the table. It was easier to just let the words tumble out, and avoid looking at his face. “The uhm— a lot of what the Warden said that night was true. There was a lot of things I didn’t tell you over the years— and I know you’ll say that I’m entitled to my own secrets— but it’s not fair to you or myself to expect you to constantly walk on eggshells around me. I know it doesn’t really make sense for me to get upset, too. It’s… irrational for me to expect you to just know what I need on any given moment, when I don’t know what I want either.”
A shaky breath climbed out of my throat. “That— that last bit might be a little shaky— I do know that I want to be friends with you, and that I really enjoy hanging out with you… It’s just— I don’t know. I think I’m envious of the fact that you had a parent like Miss Maple— and I know— I know, that she’s made an effort for me, as well, and I’m grateful, I am. But I just…”
A dejected sigh wormed its way out of me, the initial nerves had passed, but all it left was exhaustion. I hated to admit it, but it was necessary to get everything out of the way. “I think that even though I like to say that my mother… abandoning me doesn’t effect me anymore— I’m just lying. In reality, it really, really hurts, and every time I see you and your mom, or those photos on your wall, or her treating me nicely, I can’t help but think that I don’t belong, and that at the end of the day I’m just another girl who was abandoned by her parents.”
“I’m not really sure why I get upset with you when you just try to comfort me— I think— no, I know, that I…” I shook my head. “I refuse to let myself be happy, and there’s a million reasons that I tell myself— after all, there’s tens of thousands of other children without parents, who don’t get to live the life I do. They don’t get nearly a fraction of the opportunities I do, and I don’t do anything to help them even though I’m in a position to do so. That— even when I’m given all these resources and opportunities, refuse to help people that I could, I still can’t eke out any worth from other things I focus on. Then, I use that logic to justify the fact that I’m a rotten person— that I don’t deserve to be… friends with you or anyone else.”
I fell silent, and I couldn’t muster the will to look at Arthur’s expression. Eventually, he spoke up. “Uhm… I— do you want to help them?”
“I… I like helping people— I just… don’t really care— not just about them, but most things... I simply… can’t muster the urge to care. I think— I… I never wanted to be a Seeker, Arthur.” I took a steadying breath, my gaze listing to the side. “Or a Keeper, for that matter. If… if I could just be another ignorant, estranged scion, I think… I think I would— just for the peace. I never wanted to join the Empire’s forces— I never wanted to do research— I mean, magic is amazing… but… I can’t do it forever and ever, you know?”
Arthur nodded.
“But— uhm… yeah— that’s… I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to be as good as a friend as you deserve. I’m sorry for throwing a tantrum the other night. Even if I am troubled— it’s not an excuse to treat you poorly for just trying to help. Uh— sorry, I probably repeated some things. It’s uh— if you have anything you want to ask me— like, really anything, I’ll answer truthfully…”
Across from me, Arthur wrung his hands, his gaze troubled as he looked at me. I blew out another slow breath.
“Well… I think that it’s okay to not know. I think you should be able to be happy, and— and it’s okay if you don’t want to be a Seeker, or a Keeper. Uhm— I don’t think you’re a bad person for not helping them, and I think you have a lot of stuff going on in your life—and it’s okay to not know what you want or to not get results from the things you want…” Arthur paused, his brow furrowed. “Do you— would you— without the Oath— would you still be my friend?”
I gnawed on my lip. “I… I think I would. I— I don’t know if one of us not going to Belfaust would’ve changed things… I would like to think that you would’ve kept in contact with me, but I don’t know. I… I kinda just want to focus on right now…”
Silence settled between us, and anxiety made me break it first. “I’m sorry— I— was my— was all of that too weird?”
Panic flashed across his face. “No, no! No— it wasn’t weird— it’s just, I don’t…” He paused, taking a breath. “I talked to Clara and mom about it— and, and I still didn’t know what to do. Both of them told me to give you space, but it still feels…”
“… like something’s not right?” I offered.
“Yeah— and it’s not your fault. I… I’m stuck. I don’t know how to tell you I care, I don’t know if I should ask you how you’re doing more— if I should leave you alone more— I… it feels like I hurt you both ways, and I don’t want that. I want to stay friends…”
“I— no— Arthur,” I hastily began, “Arthur it’s not— you didn’t hurt, me. The problem wasn’t you— it never was. I— I’m not saying this just to appease your feelings either, I really mean it when I say that I was in the wrong. Not—“ I held up a hand to stop his retort “— not in the sense that what I felt wasn’t important, but in the fact that you didn’t do anything wrong. Please, trust me when I say that.”
“But I—“
“— You did enough, Arthur.” My voice didn’t stumble, and I dug my nails into my palm. “You always reached out to me first, every time, for the last decade and a half. You did your best, and before you say I did too— I didn’t. I could tried a little harder, actually made good on promises I gave you, but I didn’t, so don’t say you don’t know what to do. It’s enough for you to just keep doing what you already are. Please, please let me do this, instead.”
I let out a sharp breath, watching as Arthur chewed his lip, before nodding, tentative. “Okay— okay, Elle. Thank you for telling me all this… I— I accept you still, however you are.”
“Mhm. Thank you for listening.” You don’t deserve— I squashed the thought. It doesn’t matter, I just want everyone to be happy.
Did you really change— or did you just change the lens you use to look at this situation? How do you know he didn’t just agree to—
I tore my attention away— that would be a question for later. Now— I had to focus on this.
“So…” Arthur slowly began, looking tentative. “Uhm— do you think you’re still going to be a Seeker after graduation?”
I sighed, letting my shoulders relax. “I don’t think so. I’ll probably choose to be a Keeper and continue my research to fill out my Oath… Uh— I still would like to be friends, though, and to hang out when you have time… I’ll— uh— I’ll make time, whenever you come back.”
“Elle…” He had an ambivalent expression. “You won’t have to clear your schedule— I know you’ll be busy.”
I paused, matching his gaze, a faint smile on my lips. “I want to. Also— “ I waved a hand “— don’t worry too much, if my post is anything like now, I won’t mind a break.”
His expression broke into a smile— a genuine one, this time. Not the false one I’d seen as I walked in. “Can I hug you, Elle?”
“Sure.” I walked around the table, and embraced him. I let out a soft sigh, it felt as if a weight had come off my shoulders. The relief felt heady, almost like floating on water. “Thank you. I’m sorry, again. Please— seriously, call me out if I do something you don’t understand. Really.”
“Okay.” Arthur’s arms tightened around me, and something prickled at the edge of my senses. “Okay, I will, Elle. I will. I… I swear I’ll ask you if I don’t understand. I swear.”
The relief died in a near instant— devoured and charged by expectation and weight. Then, as fast as it come— it vanished, leaving nothing but an insidious ease. I stiffened and stumbled back, a deep frown warring with the confusion bubbling up. Arthur’s arms fell back to his side, but he had a large, genuine smile.
“Did— did you just…” My heart sank with realization and turmoil.
His grin brightened. “Now we both have Oaths to one another!”
Can’t ever anticipate Arthur, huh? teased a snide little voice. I swallowed, my throat felt dry. I… I wasn’t even sure how to react. “Oh. Okay.”
Did that really just happen? Seriously?
Yeah. I felt like sighing. Yeah it did.