115. Invitation

Isaac frowned at the other Traveler. They looked exactly the same as he remembered, down to the length of their hair. Back then, he’d never really paid much attention to Fable’s perfectly static appearance, but now he wondered if maybe everyone in the Underside was like that and he just hadn’t noticed. If all the realms were caught frozen in time.

“Tell Lilith I still need more time to think,” he said.

“Oh it’s not from her.”

That made Isaac pause. His brows furrowed, and he turned to face them fully. “What?”

“It’s not from her,” Fable repeated. They raised an eyebrow. “It’s from a friend.”

“A friend.”

“Yep. You know, works in a clock shop, always has the same expression?” They schooled their features into a deadpan impression, which looked thoroughly unnerving on them. Isaac, however, was more focused on what they were saying.

“It’s from Mortimer?”

Fable snapped their fingers. “Bingo.” They shook their head, sighing dramatically. “You know how freaky it is to have some expressionless half-undead dude tracking you down? The guy’s got some serious determination.”

Isaac, however, barely paid the other Traveler’s usual poking and prodding any mind. He was hit with the realization that he’d left the Underside without explaining anything to Mortimer. He’d run out of his shop with a brief mention of going to talk to Lilith, then after he left the Golden Lands, he’d never returned.

Guilt rose the longer Isaac thought about it. Mortimer was the closest person to a friend he had, and he’d effectively cut off all communication with no prior explanation. Sure he’d been preoccupied with the murders, the realization about the multiple killers, and the argument with Lilith, but it was still shitty of him.

“…What did he say?”

Fable stared at him for a moment, seemingly searching for something. Whatever it was, they seemed to have found it, because their grin returned.

“You’ve got an invitation.” They shrugged, their scarf swaying with the movement. “Apparently there’s some kind of ceremony or whatever happening in the Graveyard soon, and he wants you to come.”

Isaac frowned. The Graveyard, after Paradise, was the realm he visited the least often, and it unnerved him about as much as the Abyss did. Every time he stepped foot there or even glimpsed it from the confines of the station, he could never escape the creeping, hollow stillness that permeated the place.

If the Abyss contained an oppressive chill, one that made his skin crawl and his senses heighten every time he stepped into that void, then the Graveyard was a place that dulled, one where he felt in constant danger of being pulled into that silent lull.

He’d never heard of any sort of event or ceremony happening in the Graveyard, and Mortimer barely talked about the place. He’d always been under the impression that the half-undead man had fully integrated into the human society of Solonell City.

Isaac studied Fable’s face, their expression as casual as always. They didn’t seem to be lying, and there wouldn’t be much reason to lie about something like this. Plus, Isaac didn’t think Fable even knew he was friends with Mortimer before this, so the half-undead man probably had tracked the other Traveler down.

Isaac inhaled. Regardless of his own unease with the Graveyard, he felt like he owed it to Mortimer to give him some sort of explanation. No running, he told himself.

“Fine, I’ll go.” Isaac paused, eyes narrowing a little. “But I’m just gonna see Mortimer. I’m not going to the Golden Lands or talking to Lilith. Not yet.”

Fable raised their hands placatingly. “Sure sure. You do you.” They reached a gloved hand into their pocket, pulling out a very familiar device that was much too large to have fit there. Isaac took a step back.

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“I’m not doing any jobs. I don’t need that.”

Fable raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? You should take it anyway. It was pretty annoying for me to lug this thing here, you know.”

They definitely used magic to store it. Isaac scowled, eyes narrowing a little. “I’m serious, I’m not taking that thing.” Taking the tablet felt too much like a total return to how things had been, an undeniable connection to Lilith, the System, and the Golden Lands. He wasn’t ready for that quite yet.

No, even if he did start doing jobs again, Isaac was quite sure that he did not want things to be the same as before. They couldn’t be, after everything he’d learned about the Underside and its inhabitants.

Fable proceeded to shove the tablet into Isaac’s arms. He stumbled back, annoyance rising.

“Hey! I told—“

Isaac’s voice cut off halfway. Rather than the usual shit-eating grin he’d been expecting to find, Fable’s face was utterly expressionless. They simply stared at Isaac, and through the filter of their sunglasses, Isaac couldn’t get rid of the feeling that the other Traveler was somehow staring directly into his soul. He swallowed.

“Take it,” Fable said again, their voice flat. Like that, without their usual drawl and inflections, it sounded nearly unrecognizable. “You don’t even need to turn the thing on. Just keep it on you.”

Slowly, Isaac straightened again. He didn’t look down at the tablet, which felt smooth and cold in his hands, nor did he move his gaze away from Fable.

“…What’s this about?” he asked warily.

“Oh, I just think you’ll need the map in the Graveyard. You’ve got a pretty shitty sense of direction, you know.”

Isaac narrowed his eyes, irritation bubbling again. “Don’t lie. There’s something going on, and you’re not telling me.”

Fable raised an eyebrow. “Eh, it sounds like you’re paranoid. Have you considered seeing someone about that? It doesn’t sound too health—“

“Cut it out!” Isaac groaned, rubbing his forehead. He could already feel a migraine coming. “Jesus, I forgot what a fucking asshole you are.” He exhaled a long breath. “Look, I know you like to be a vague bastard, but it’d be nice if you could be straightforward for once in your life. I’m already going back because of Mortimer, so if there’s something else going on I need to know.”

Fable was quiet for a few moments, and for a second Isaac thought that maybe he’d finally gotten through to them before they shrugged, movements casual.

“Nothing’s going on, at least not for sure. Some stuff might happen, it might not. Call the tablet a precaution.”

Isaac scowled. “Not helpful. I just said—“

“—Sorry.”

Isaac stopped. He blinked a few times, sure he’d misheard. “…What?”

Fable had that weirdly serious expression on again. For a moment they didn’t speak, and silence hung heavy over the apartment, making Isaac shift his weight in unease. Then, just when he was about to talk again, the other Traveler sighed. Not the exaggerated, dramatic sighs they usually did to irritate him, but just an ordinary, normal, weary one.

“Look, I’m not going to deny being a vague asshole, and yeah, you’re pretty fun to mess with.” One of their hands adjusted their red scarf, and they frowned. “But just this once, I genuinely can’t tell you more.”

Before Isaac had a chance to ask what they meant, Fable tugged on the scarf, pulling it just loose enough to expose their neck. Isaac stared.

The brief glimpse of rotting and decaying flesh he’d seen on their hands during the tournament was here as well, the skin completely blackened and wrinkled like driftwood. It extended far down past the scarf, and Isaac realized it probably covered their entire body.

What most caught Isaac’s attention, however, was the marking there. He’d always assumed Fable didn’t have a tattoo like other Underside residents did, that their position as a Traveler gave them more freedoms. And indeed, they didn’t have the traditional one on the back of the left hand. Instead, across their neck, faintly glowing golden lines crawled out like a massive spider, extending and wrapping around skin in branches that looked like jagged veins, the rot spreading from its lines.

It was undeniably a System mark, and by the way it glowed faintly, it was one that was currently active.

Fable tightened their scarf again, hiding their neck in the red cloth. Isaac realized his jaw had dropped, and he clicked it shut. Fable’s expression was impassive, and they strode forward, movements every bit as languid as usual.

“I didn’t lie about the invitation, you know.” They shrugged. “If you’re lucky, nothing’s gonna happen. You can go see your half-undead pal and have a merry journey in the Graveyard and get back in time for supper.”

Isaac watched the other Traveler closely, his fingers tightening a little around the tablet. With its blank screen, it looked innocuous, but he kept it in the corner of his vision.

“I’m guessing,” he said slowly, “that I should be careful.”

Fable snorted. “Yeah, that never hurts.” They patted Isaac’s shoulder with a gloved hand. “So, do me a favor and keep that thing on you.” They nodded at the tablet.

“Do that, and pray nothing happens.”