He takes a shuddering breath, forcing down the sudden urge to cry. He knows she had to die, but still having to see it is far worse. She even thanked him-
He lets himself take another strangled deep breath, trying to force his thoughts in another direction. ‘She had to die,’ he tells himself, it does nothing to ease the guilt gnawing at him from the inside out. Strangely it is a comfort that he reacts so poorly, at least he hasn’t lost this part of his humanity yet.
[System advises Host that we should return.]
It's not a bad idea, one he desperately wishes to complete, but he knows Festum’s sisters felt her death. It would be cruel to just leave them after being the only one with her when she passed.
[But Host is in pain,] the System reasons, [Host doesn’t need to stay for the missions anymore, so Host should-]
There’s a strangled gasping breath, and Asterius freezes. He is the only one in the room, and he did not make that sound.
“System who else is-,”
He stops talking as he meets confused blue eyes.
“L-Lord of Stars?”
He must be seeing things, the grief or guilt or just lack of sleep catching up with him. Maybe whatever killed Festum has spread to him and now he’s seeing illusions. Because he thinks he sees her alive-
“FateWeaver?” the illusion of Festum asks, glancing around the room, looking whole and healthy if a bit sleepy and confused. “Has something happened?”
“You-,” the words fail him, and he just stares. She has to be a figment of his imagination. He felt her die. She has to be-
[System-] The message glitches for a moment, [System’s algorithms confirm that Festum is alive.]
‘How?!’
The System doesn’t respond, maybe because the door is suddenly forced open. Bellum is standing there, glare like steal, posture tense, and ready for a fight. She startles seeing Festum, and all her anger bleeds away, giving wake to sagging relief.
“Festum-!” and it's like opening a dam, her other sisters come rushing into the room. Asterius gets shuffled towards the exit, and in his numb confused state lets it happen.
Before he’s even really aware of what’s happening he’s in the living room, standing awkwardly next to Medicus.
“How did you do it FateWeaver?” the goddess of medicine asks, leaning down to peer at his face with a furrowed brow, “I tried everything at my disposal to heal her.”
He should probably be panicking at the question, but everything still feels so distant. Through her crowded family, Asterius can still see Festum, smiling and laughing, painfully alive.
“I-,” he takes a breath, it does nothing to calm his nerves nor to disperse the hanging confusion, “I don’t know.”
Medicus hums, a small frown gracing her lips. Obviously, she had been hoping for a more useful answer, but the goddess nods and they fall into silence, watching the muses celebrate and cheer.
An unprompted message blinks to life in front of him, slowly he reads it, [System has performed the checks over 2341 times, System can confirm with near 99.99% accuracy that Festum is alive.]
‘Then,’ he thinks slowly, thoughts stuck in syrupy confusion, ‘then was she really dead?’
[System has run tests correlated to Festum’s death over 5827 times and no data suggests that the Muse of Festivies was alive. So System colludes that for 3 seconds, 7 milliseconds, and 4 nanoseconds, Festum was indeed dead.]
‘But she’s not now,’
[… but she’s not now,] the System agrees. Asterius hopes it’s as confused and worried as he is. He’s still not sure this isn’t some crazy hallucination or dream and he’s going to wake up any second at home in bed from a wing slapping in the face as Pluma rolls around.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
‘So, she was resurrected?’ he thinks, fumbling for a conclusion that makes sense.
[System’s database contains no reference to such a method, and therefore System highly doubts that is the case.]
Well even if resurrection wasn’t something explained in the original novel, clearly Festum had come back to life somehow. ‘There had to be a reason.’ Asterius really wasn’t sure what to do if all of this was just some fluke. That he didn’t have to watch a woman die thanking and pleading for his forgiveness, and then mere moments later be alive and happy.
[System does not know.]
‘Why her?’ he questions, not really expecting the System to answer, but his brain was finally starting to move again and it was quickly filling with new questions and possibilities, ‘Why not Heilous or Flos? What made her special enough to come back?’
[She is a muse?] the System tries, [System is uncertain how this happened or what could have led to it happening. System advises Host to be extra cautious going forward.]
‘Because this is more unscripted plot right? You have no data on any of this.’
[Correct, System has no record for any of this. While System's records confirm that Festum was dead for 3 seconds, System can also confirm that she is currently very much alive, and that her death never happened in the novel.] The messages hangs in the air for only a moment, before another window quickly appears, [At least her death never affected the novel enough to be mentioned. With newly gathered data, System is able to conclude with a 97% accuracy, that her death would have been mentioned by at least one side character-]
'Okay, System I get it,' he thinks with a deep sigh, 'something really wrong is happening to this plot.'
“Well,” Medicus sighs, flexing her hooves, “it would be best we stop intruding on a family moment, I’ll be back in the morning for a more thorough examination.”
Asterus is confused as to why she’s telling him that, as if her returning has anything to do with him, but he nods, silently following her out. He wants nothing more than to go home and take a long -very long- nap.
“May the sun bless your path FateWeaver,” Medicus says, bowing briefly in respect before trotting down the road.
“You as well,” he whispers back, unsure how he feels about being blessed by the sun right now.
He turns, starting his long journey home when-
“Wait!” and Vae runs out of the house, out of breath but grinning brightly, “Thank you FateWeaver!”
The guilt almost chokes him, “I didn’t do anything,” it is the truth, whatever happened here today had nothing to do with him. He deserves no credit for this, his job was to make sure she died after all, he cannot be labeled her savior.
“You know!?” she yells after him, a laugh echoing in her voice, “You’re not so bad!”
It’s such a Vae compliment that he pauses in his steps, letting the words process. She almost sounds fond of him again, as if they were back to being friends-
Fear takes him then, and he summons the weave in a rush, praying he’s wrong. But his breath hitches as he’s proved dreadfully right, he has a new string, faint and barely there. He knows it belongs to Vae. Less than an hour, it took less than an hour for the string to reform, retying their fates together. Something bittersweet rushes through him, he wants this string, painfully does he want it, but he knows what will happen if he keeps it.
He waits till he's back to the 1st ring, then with trembling hands, he tightens his grip on the string. 'It will be less painful if I do it myself', he tries to reason, fingers hesitating over the thin silver thread.
[Host-] the System’s window gets smaller, dying a deeper green and its borders turning a concerning black, [Host doesn’t need to do this.]
Either he does this now, or Sanctus will do it later with far more cruelty. It is not a hard choice, but it is a painful one all the same. That he even has to make this choice at all is a torturous thing, (that he's afraid enough to make the choice at all weighs heavily on him).
He tries to tell himself that the hazy fog swimming in his vision is from being tired and not the unshed tears they are. He tightens his grip, bracing for the pain-
“Master?”
Alarmed by the sudden voice, he jolts, tugging on the string reflexively. It burns and he lets out a sharp small gasp of pain, before wrangling himself back in check, quickly vanishing the Weave. But the damage has been done. Familiar red eyes stare back at him, glancing down at his outstretched arm. Asterius shuffles it back out of view, trying to hide his flinch, but Cadeyrn isn’t stupid, realization quickly dawns on the demon’s face.
“Who is it?”
“Vae,” he admits. There would be no benefit in lying at this stage. Asterius was already caught in the act.
“I’ve finished my mission,” he reports, voice steady and even, keeping his eyes locked on Asterius, face a careful mask. It hurts a little to see him so closed off. After everything that happened today, he sort of hoped- no, no it was a stupid thing to think. “Master will not need to worry about another visit.”
Considering he’s the main player in Sanctus’s plan he highly doubts that, but he lets the false reassure ease some of the fearful tension curled around his bones. He looks down, away from the watchful red eyes, shame quickly taking the place of his fear.
There's the crunch of gravel, and two stained work boots come into view.
"Asterius," and he startles looking up at the demon standing right before him, blank mask slowly falling away, "Let's go home."
And Cadeyrn smiles, gentle and fond and- 'how could I ever say no to that face?' He takes the offered hand, and the demon easily links their arms together, pulling Asterius close into his side. Cadeyrn still runs colder than a normal person, a soft chill always surrounding him, but in the dark night, the familiar cold is almost warm.
He will leave the freshly born string alone for now, there will always be time later to remove it.
Tonight, he really just wants to rest.