Orion arrived on the other side of the portal, feeling disoriented. He looked around to see he was back in the clearing where they’d defeated the Queen of the Forest. Shadow and Honeypot had already arrived and set up a camp beside the former Queen’s throne. Gizmo was also there, but Arika was nowhere to be seen. Beyond the camp, a giant blue dome encompassed the sky, which he supposed was the ‘bubble of protection’ the Creator had mentioned.

Shadow looked how Orion felt, and was sitting down by the fire, staring into space with tear-filled eyes. He made no move or sound and glanced at Orion for only a moment before his eyes went to the crackling fire before him. Honeypot was sitting beside him. The Priest smiled at him, then also looked at the fire.

He walked over and sat with them in silence.

A blur of motion suddenly caught his attention, and Orion looked up to see Arika. The portal closed behind her, and she stood there, trembling. She had tears running down her cheeks, and her eyes were red and swollen.

Seeing her like this broke Orion’s heart anew, and he felt an overwhelming urge to protect her. Without even realizing it, he teleported himself before her, and reached out to hug her, wanting to do anything to take her pain away.

She flinched away and took a step back, looking at him with fear and disgust. She blinked rapidly and recognized Orion, then looked down.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t want to be touched right now. Give me some time.”

Orion chastised himself as he stepped back, not wanting to freak her out any further.

“Sorry.” He looked down and walked back to his seat by the fire, feeling a fool the entire time.

Arika said nothing, walking to a chair and moving it a little further from the fire before sitting down and hugging her knees.

They sat there in silence for a while before Shadow pulled out some rations and handed them out. Orion didn’t blame him for not wanting to cook anything. Orion wasn’t hungry, but he figured he should eat something regardless. He took a bite. They were even more tasteless than he remembered. No one spoke, and one-by-one, they retreated to their tents for the night.

Orion cried himself to sleep, serenaded by the soft sounds of his friends doing the same.

He awoke the next morning feeling empty. No one else had emerged from their tent yet. He tried working on his Alchemy, hoping the distraction would stop him from thinking, but it proved to be difficult. He tried refining his stored concentrate into another bountiful potion, but he was unable to shape it. His thoughts were scattered, weakening his usually powerful will. He tinkered around with different ingredients he had on hand, but he knew it was only keeping his hands busy.

The rest of the party slowly emerged. Arika began experimenting with Enchanting equipment, Honeypot lay in the sun, and Shadow only came out to dump a pile of rations before returning to his tent.

The day passed in this manner, as did the next.

Orion emerged from his tent in the late afternoon of the second day. He knew today would be the last chance they had to rest—the bubble of protection would expire tonight, and time would resume normally. They would have to get back to Valbrand as soon as possible.

Orion saw Shadow and Gizmo sitting by a fire, and Honeypot set up behind Shadow’s portable kitchen.

“Now!” Honeypot said, looking at Orion. “I’m not a chef, and do not have the Cooking profession, so I don’t want to hear any complaints about the glorious dish I’m currently making with love. Understand?”

Orion nodded, tears coming to his eyes inexplicably as they made eye contact. Honeypot made an understanding expression and came to Orion, wrapping him in a hug that made the tears come on stronger.

“Now, now.” Honeypot patted him on the back. “I know. Believe me, I know, but we’re going to be alright, understand? As soon as Arika comes out of her tent, we are going to eat a meal, and we can talk about it as little or as much as we want.” Honeypot pulled away and looked at Orion with eyes just as red as his. “You hear me, glorious leader? We’re going to be alright.”

Orion was unable to speak, so he nodded, taking a seat by the fire as Honeypot returned to his cooking. He looked down at his staff as he idly played with the grain of the wood, running his finger up and down the smoothed surface. He was happy to focus on it, keeping his mind occupied.

Arika emerged from her tent, most likely hearing Honeypot’s loud voice.

“I’m going to say what I told these guys, Arika.” Honeypot held a spoon out threateningly. “No bad talk about the meal my unqualified hands have made you, got it? It’s almost finished, and I have poured my heart and soul into it.”

They sat in silence, everyone lost in thought and playing idly with clothing or equipment as Honeypot dished up the meals. Finally, he came around with bowls filled with stew. They all took a bite at the same time.

“Well?” Honeypot demanded. “How good is it?”

“It’s… delicious. Thanks,” Shadow said.

“It’s good,” Orion agreed.

“This… taste like shit, Honeypot.” Arika said with a straight face.

A smile cracked through the surface, and she started laughing. They all joined—even Honeypot, though he was trying to look offended, which made them laugh even harder.

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“It truly is bad, Honeypot.” Orion poked some of the hard, uncooked vegetables. “I think potato generally tastes better if you cook it before serving it.”

“Okay, first of all…” Honeypot said, puffing out his chest. “That isn’t potato, it’s a local root vegetable. Second of all, this is all according to Shadow’s recipe.” Honeypot pointed his spoon at the warrior in accusation. “You did this.”

“Look, I was trying to be kind, but this is truly terrible.” Shadow smiled kindly, despite his words. “I specifically said to cook the vegetables separately before you put them in the stew. If you cook them in there, the stew goes watery. Luckily for us, you didn’t cook them at all, so the sauce and meat remains good. But these…” Shadow stabbed his fork into one of the potato-like chunks and waved it at Honeypot. “These are so hard that you could use them as projectiles.”

“Well, I have never.” Honeypot brought his hand to his chest. “I serve you a delicious meal and free ammunition, and you have the absolute gall to complain? For shame!”

They finished the rest of the meal in silence, picking around the hard vegetables. Shadow was right, the sauce and meat were still actually quite good—not as good as Shadow’s cooking, but close enough. They sat there content after the meal, everyone lost in their own thoughts.

“Does anyone feel the need to share?” Honeypot asked.

No one responded, and they continued looking everywhere but at each other. Orion considered telling his friends what he had remembered.

Would it be easier to just get it out in the open, and will sharing help me heal faster? Perhaps it was a mistake waiting two days…

“Personally, I’d rather get my story out in the open,” Honeypot said, unknowingly agreeing with Orion. “Rip the bandaid off, so to speak. I understand if anyone isn’t ready to hear about more traumatic stuff, on top of their own traumatic stuff, though…” Honeypot looked around at his teammates. “Any objections to hearing my story?”

Everyone shook their head.

“Before you share…” Orion looked up. “Did the Creator tell you guys… well, about the requirement for everyone brought to this world?”

Everyone nodded.

“I believe we were all given the same information,” Honeypot said.

“Alright.” Orion let out a deep breath. “When you’re ready, Honeypot.”

“This may come as a surprise to you guys,” Honeypot said after a long pause, “but I was always the way I am now. I came from a big family, and it was hard for me to standout or get attention from my family. So, naturally, I began messing with people. It started out as innocent pranks, but eventually, the innocent pranks stopped getting the reaction I was looking for. Much to the dismay of everyone I ever met—in my old life and new—I have always been quite good at observing people. Having good attention-to-detail means you can find the things that would really set someone off.”

He paused for a moment, a wistful expression on his face as he remembered.

“Well, things escalated as they do, and I became somewhat of the black sheep in my family. They would act like I was a nuisance and a hassle—but that was fine with me. I felt seen, and I knew they loved me regardless… well, my parents probably loved me regardless. I’m sure my siblings would have come around eventually, just like you guys.”

Honeypot shot a wink at Arika.

“One day, I began getting pains in my stomach. I told my parents repeatedly, but no one would listen. They assumed it was another attempt at getting attention—a good guess, by the way. Unfortunately, it was something much more serious. To make a long story short, and cut to out a lot of the heartache, they eventually diagnosed me with a terminal illness. If they’d caught earlier it, I would have survived. My parents blamed themselves, and the fighting began.”

Honeypot looked up at the sky, tears welling in his eyes.

“I think my mum blamed my dad for dismissing my complaints for so long. Instead of looks of annoyance, my siblings stopped looking at me altogether. That’s what hurt the most for me, I think—being completely ignored by everyone. I based my entire self worth on the attention I received—I still do, if I’m being honest with myself.”

Honeypot wiped the tears away and took a deep, steadying breath. He breathed it out and continued.

“I started wishing I could just disappear. It was only a matter of months, after all, and my continued living was a reminder of their mistakes, guilt, and their own mortality. So, one night, I took all the pain medicine I’d been given. I washed it all down with an enormous glass of milk, told my parents I loved them, and went to bed. I didn’t wake up, and now I’m here.”

Everyone sat in silence after Honeypot’s words. Gizmo moved first, walking over to the Priest slowly and patting him on the back reassuringly, as Honeypot had done for him so many times before. Honeypot wiped his eyes again and smiled at Gizmo’s kindness.

“If I’m being honest, I don’t regret my decision. Even if I hadn’t ended up here, I still think I made the right decision. My existence dragging out was causing everyone, including myself, pain. I died the second I got that terminal diagnosis—all I did was take my fate back into my own hands.”

“So that’s why you’re such a prick.” Arika laughed and sniffled as she wiped tears from her own eyes.

Honeypot barked a laugh.

“Yeah, I guess you could say I was born this way.” Honeypot shot his cheeky smile at Arika, his eyes still brimming with tears.

“I’m sorry, Honeypot.” Orion walked over, gripping the shoulder opposite Gizmo’s hand.

Honeypot smiled and nodded, but was clearly still struggling after sharing so much. Orion returned to his seat, and wanting both to show solidarity and ‘rip the bandaid off,’ as Honeypot said, he started talking.

Orion went into great detail, explaining his parents’ death, the dynamic with his uncle, and just how important his sister Mira was to him. He told them of his disability and the lack of mobility he had.

He told them of the trips to the creek, of the swing Mira had made just for him, and the way she continually pushed and tried to help him get out of the house. He told them of the rainy day, Mira’s warning, the gust of wind, and the car.

Though they must have known it was coming, everyone wept with Orion as he spoke of his sister’s death. Honeypot and Gizmo came to Orion’s side as he was unable to continue for a few minutes, lost in his grief.

“It’s alright, Orion.” Honeypot rubbed his back, though he barely felt it. “You don’t have to finish the entire story tonight. You can continue whenever you please.”

Orion looked around, seeing Arika with her head in her hands, and Shadow shaking softly. He joined them, letting his emotions out until the tears had numbed him enough to continue. He sat up, looking up to hide his red eyes, and finished his story.

He told them of his trip to the creek, carrying his sister’s body in his arms, and laying her against the trunk of the giant oak. He told them how peaceful she looked—like she was having one of her coveted midday naps.

Finally, he told them of the knot he’d tied using the rope from the swing she made him. He told them how he slipped it around his neck, checked its strength, then took his last step.

“I don’t miss my old life. It was filled with pain and misery, but I do miss her. The way our memories were returned—it feels like it only happened today, and I miss her so damn much. You guys—you guys would have loved her—”

His voice broke as his body shuddered with grief.

The sound of armor clunking and banging told Orion that Shadow had stood. He glanced over at him, and the look on the Warrior’s face snapped him out of his rumination. Shadow’s eyes were swollen and filled with tears, his brow was furrowed, and the rest of his face was scrunched up in pure… hatred?

His fists clenched and shook uncontrollably as his face contorted further.

He charged.