Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first thing I registered was the smell of coffee. Bitter and rich, curling through the air like an insistent finger beckoning me awake. The second was the weight of Mephisto’s feather in my pocket, pressing against my thigh through the thin fabric of my borrowed shorts.

Then came the voice.

“Rise and shine, prophet boy.”

A sharp poke to my ribs.

I huffed, curling tighter into the couch cushions.

Willow’s laugh was bright, too loud for the morning. “Nope! Up. Now.” Another poke, harder this time. “Come on, spill. Did you have any weird dreams? Of the prophetic kind?”

Ah.

Right.

I cracked one eye open, squinting up at her.

Willow was already dressed, her locs pulled into a loose ponytail. It was messy, a few strays of blonde at the front, but it fit her style. She held a mug of coffee clutched in one hand. The other hand hovered threateningly near my ribs, ready to jab again.

I exhaled shakily, forcing myself to sit up. The world spun momentarily, my vision blurring before settling down. The feather shifted in my pocket.

“Unfortunately,” I said, rubbing at my eyes, “I did.”

Willow’s entire demeanor changed. The teasing glint in her eyes sharpened into something desperate. She leaned forward, face in mine, too close. “About Caleb?”

The lie sat heavy on my tongue, and I let it flow over. “I think so? It wasn’t exactly about him but…I think it’s a clue of some kind.”

Her fingers tightened around the mug. “Tell me.”

I let my gaze drift down to my hands, picking at the dry skin that had begun to peel around my fingers. “There was a place. Somewhere in Linkon probably. I don’t know where, but I could see it clearly. There was something inside that I think could help.”

Willow’s brows furrowed. “That’s it? No address? No name?”

I shook my head then let my gaze fall back on her. “It doesn’t really work like that. It’s more like…impressions. Feelings. Just images.”

I paused, watching her face change as she processed the information. “I was going to go look for it today, alone.”

“Alone?” Her voice pitched higher, her face contorting with confusion. “Why?”

“Because,” I said slowly, firmly, “I was alone in the dream. If you come with me, it might change things. If we deviate, things could go wrong.”

Willow chewed her bottom lip, eyes flickering over my face like she was searching for cracks in the story. I kept my expression carefully calm, remorseful that she couldn’t come with.

Finally, she sighed. “Fine. I have work anyway.” She shoved the coffee into my hands, the hot liquid spilling over slightly and burning my hands as I flinched. Willow leaned in, gripping my shoulder tightly. “Rain. If this is about Caleb…” Her voice wavered, desperate, demanding. “Just find something. Please.”

The guilt bubbled in my throat for a split second before I swallowed it down with ease. I nodded. “I will, don’t worry.”

—

The streets of Linkon swallowed me whole the moment I stepped out of Willow’s apartment building. The city was a living, breathing beast. Signs flickered like heart beats, the hum of traffic thrummed through the pavement beneath my feet. The air smelled of fresh food, exhaust, and something faintly metallic.

I had a destination in mind. Rafayel’s studio.

At least, that was the plan. In practice…

In the game, his studio was tucked away along the coast of Linkon City, Whiteshore Bay. Or…was it Whitesand? The biggest problem I was running into here was my own faulty memory. I knew Sylus’s memories and cards like the back of my hand. Everything besides that…was drifting away faster than I could attempt to latch onto it.

It didn’t help that Linkon, in reality, never had a map in game. And Infold had a habit of reusing backgrounds for many different scenes.

Which meant, there was no way for me to navigate the world.

The streets twisted and forked without warning, alleys bled into main roads, and every corner looked the same yet entirely unfamiliar.

Still, my stubborn determination to find that overgrown fish pushed me forward.

I wandered for what felt like hours, my boots scuffing against the pavement as I squinted at street signs too blurred to read from a distance. This city needed better infrastructure. I had no clue how to get anywhere, and the coast was too far to see from where I was standing.

A group of teenagers brushed past me, their laughter sharp and bright. One of them shot me a curious glance, likely taking in my disheveled waves and the way I kept pausing to scan my surroundings like a lost tourist. Both were accurate descriptions of my current state.

This is fine. This is perfectly fine.

The city seemed to shift around me, rearranging itself every time I turned a corner. The bay remained frustratingly out of reach, like a mirage. A digital billboard overhead flickered, displaying an ad for some high-end tech I didn’t recognize. The time flashed in the corner. 15:47. I easily translated it to 3:47 PM on the 12-hour clock.

Willow would be off work soon.

My feet throbbed with each step, the dull ache radiating up my calves and settling into my knees with unwanted weight. My boots, once comfortable, now felt like leaden traps, rubbing against my swollen ankles with every movement. I winced as I shifted my weight, the sharp sting of a forming blister making itself known on my left heel.

My stomach growled loudly, a hollow, insistent sound. The single cup of coffee Willow had shoved into my hands this morning had long since worn off. I hadn’t eaten since last night’s noodles, and even then, I’d barely managed half the bowl before I nearly started falling asleep at the table.

I didn’t have my medicine in this world.

I paused at a crosswalk, leaning heavily against a lamppost as I massaged my eyes, too sensitive in the bright Linkon sunlight.

The city’s noise pressed in from all sides—honking cars, chattering pedestrians, the distant hum of an overhead metro—each sound grating against my frayed nerves.

My vision swam around the edges, a combination of exhaustion, hunger, and the relentless midday sun beating down on me.

Stupid.

I had no money. No way to buy food if I stumbled upon another restaurant. No way to call Willow for help even if I wanted to. I’d left with nothing but the clothes I had come to this world with and Mephisto’s feather carefully tucked into my pocket like some kind of pathetic good luck charm.

Okay. I wasn’t going to use the word pathetic in reference to Mephisto. That would be cruel of me. He was my little angel that could do no wrong.

I forced myself to move again, each step sending fresh spikes of pain through my soles. I could feel my legs trembling slightly, my muscles protesting the continued abuse. I needed to sit down. Needed to eat. Needed—

A sharp cramp twisted through my stomach, and I sucked in a breath through my teeth.

It’s fine.

Keep moving.

I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes until colors burst behind my eyelids. The world swayed slightly, my vision swimming at the edges. Exhaustion gnawed at me, sharp and insistent.

That’s when I heard it.

Humming.

Faint at first, so soft I almost dismissed it to just a memory in my head. But memories weren’t audible, and I had no memory of this melody.

I lifted my head.

The sound came from an alleyway to my left. Narrow. Shadowed. The kind of place you’d avoid unless you had a death wish.

I took a hesitant step.

The melody pulled at me, slow and mournful, the sound of a voice I couldn’t place. Familiar all the same. Something that didn’t belong here.

I shouldn’t follow it.

My feet moved.

I stepped into the alley’s mouth, vague protests of impending doom filled my thoughts.

The walls stretched, the brickwork warping like wet paint under a brush. Strokes painting towering trees with smooth, mottled bark that gleamed faintly in the moonlight. Their branches arched overhead in a tangled canopy, leaves echoing a whispered tune.

The air smelled different here. Rich earth flowing into floral, undercut with the metallic tang of blood. My boots sank slightly into damp moss as I took an uneasy step forward, the humid air clinging to my skin.

The tree.

It rose from the forest floor as a silent sentinel, its trunk wide enough that three people couldn’t have encircled it with their arms. The bark was smooth and strangely patterned. Patches of silvery-gray giving way to deep russet, like the skin of some ancient fiend.

Its branches spread wide, heavy with clusters of crimson seeds that glowed faintly in the dim light, each one encased in a delicate black pod that split open to reveal the jewel-bright interior.

Petals drifted down like drops of blood, catching in my hair, sticking to my skin.

The humming stopped.

The forest was utterly silent now, save for the occasional plink of a seed pod bursting open and spilling its contents to the ground.

I reached out, drawn to the tree’s strange beauty like a moth to flame. My fingers hovered just above the bark, close enough to feel the strange warmth radiating from it. The tree shuddered, its branches creaking like old bones. The seed pods began to burst all at once, a rain of crimson that pattered against the moss like gentle rainfall.

My fingers finally made contact with the bark. Warm and alive beneath my touch. Without thinking, I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against the tree’s broad trunk.

A sigh escaped me, my entire body going slack as the pain, the exhaustion, the hunger, the ache in my feet, all melted away at once. It was like sinking into a hot bath after hours in the cold, or the first deep breath after surfacing from drowning. My muscles unwound, my heartbeat steadied. I felt safe.

The humming returned, softer now, vibrating through the tree and into my bones. A lullaby without words, soothing and familiar. Beneath my palms, I felt a pulse. A heartbeat. Gentle but fast, like the flutter of a bird’s wings.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

I closed my eyes, letting the rhythm sync with my own. The scent of blood shifted, faded, something new wrapping around me like a velvet embrace. A deep amber resin, warm and golden, mingling with vanilla that made my mouth water. Beneath it, something smoother, like sun-warmed silk brushing against skin, and a whisper of well-worn leather. Then came the wine—dark and heady, a decadent red that curled through the other notes tight with a ribbon.

And roses.

Not the sharp, perfumed kind, but wild roses. Petals crushed underfoot, their sweetness tempered by earth and thorn. It was entirely intoxicating, filling my senses until I could taste it on my tongue and feel it sink into my lungs with every breath.

I exhaled, my body melting further against the tree. The humming swelled, wrapping around me like arms, pulling me deeper into its rhythm.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

The heartbeat quickened slightly, matching the flutter in my chest.

Then, a whisper against my ear. Soft, deep.

“Go on.”

My fingers dug into the bark, clinging tighter. My soul sinking in, placing roots of its own.

But somewhere, far away, a crow cawed.

I gasped, jerking back as the world rushed in again.

A sharp pain pinched my ear.

“Ow—!” I hissed, twisting to see Mephisto perched on my shoulder, his feathers gleaming under the dim streetlights. His crimson eyes burned into mine, unblinking.

”Caw.” A scolding sound.

Before I could react, he took flight, swooping low before circling back, hovering just out of reach as if waiting.

“Mean—” I rubbed my ear, scowling, trying to gather my thoughts. I gave up after I couldn’t come up with a good enough retort.

Mephisto flapped his wings, then let out another grating caw before darting down the alley. He paused at the corner, wings flaring impatiently.

Follow?

“Okay, okay.” I muttered, rubbing my still-tingling ear where he’d bitten me. I pushed myself forward, legs still unsteady, and stumbled after him.

The crow gave a sharp caw before darting down the alleyway. I followed, struggling to keep up with Mephisto as the narrow passage twisted between looming brick buildings. The air smelled of salt and fish as we neared the bay, the tight urban corridors gradually opening to the wider expanse of the waterfront.

Mephisto banked sharply, veering towards a side street where large properties pressed together. I hurried after him, my breath coming faster as the ache in my feet flared anew. The crow landed atop a rusted streetlamp, his talons clicking against the metal as he peered down at me.

“Fly slower?” I grumbled, itching my eyelid.

Mephisto ruffled his feathers before launching himself forward again.

Ungrateful beast.

The street sloped slightly, leading to a wrought-iron gate that had rusted from years of sea air. A yard of various plants sat behind the stone fence. Mephisto landed on the metal railing with a soft clang before scattering away when the fence swung open.

It seemed Rafayel hadn’t fixed his habit of leaving the gate unlocked. Or, he was expecting Willow to be the only person randomly appearing at his home.

I pushed through the overgrown garden, my boots crunching on gravel as lavender brushed against my legs. The scent of salt and herbs hung heavy in the air, mixing with something sweeter. My stomach growled traitorously.

“You’re lost,” a voice drawled from somewhere ahead, the usual lithe, playful tone replaced with a tone befitting a creature from the darkest depths of the sea.

I froze.

Through a gap in the wild rosemary, I saw him. Rafayel lounged against a weather-beaten bench, one long leg crossed over the other, swirling what looked like a half-eaten yogurt cup. The fading sunlight caught on the silver rings adorning his fingers, the glint of a loose bracelet at his wrist.

The damn fish hadn’t even turned to look at me.

Mephisto cawed loudly from the rooftop.

Rafayel’s lips twitched. “Unless you’re here because someone,” he shot a glare upward, “decided to play delivery service, you’d better start explaining before I make a new smore’s flavor.”

My mouth went dry. This was too real.

I stepped forward, gravel shifting underfoot. “I need you to get me to The Nest.”

Rafayel’s fingers stilled around his yogurt bottle, knuckles whitening for a fraction of a second before relaxing. His lips curled into something too sharp to be called a smile.

“Is that so?” He tilted his head, the dying sunlight turned his irises molten. “And why would I do that?” A fake playfulness to his voice, dragging out the “why”.

Mephisto let out a warning croak from the rooftop. I ignored him.

“You walk into my home,” Rafayel continued, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, “uninvited. No introduction. No explanation. Just a demand.” The corner of his mouth twitched. He had a habit of dragging out his words, just like in the game. “Do I look like a tour guide to you?”

I crossed my arms, irritation flaring at his, very reasonable, defiance. “Okay, you look like a tour guide, so either take me there or tell me where to go.”

Silence.

Rafayel laughed.

It wasn’t a pleasant sound. It was the kind of laugh that usually preceded someone getting punched, or I guess in this case, burned alive. He tipped his head forward, purple strands of hair falling in his face and catching the light. His eyes glittered with something dangerous that made my instincts stir.

“Oh, do I?” He leaned further forward, shirt bristling against his skin. His voice dropped lower, dropping the playfulness from his voice. “Let me make this clear for you, since your brain cells decided to go for a swim.” A deliberate pause. “I don’t take orders. I don’t give directions. And I certainly don’t escort random, mouthy strays into The Nest just because they ask nicely.”

Another pause. “Which…uh. You didn’t ask nicely.”

I held his gaze, pulse hammering. If I were a more sane person, I would just leave. Unfortunately for everyone involved in this situation, I was not. I smiled, letting my gaze soften with practiced ease. “You’re right. I didn’t ask nicely.”

I took another step forward, my face dropping all pretense of politeness. “You’re an overgrown fish with two legs who’s obsessed with a girl who—let’s see—mysteriously disappeared on what was basically your wedding night and led Lemuria into despair.” My hands moved sharply with each word, fingers splaying in the air.

Rafayel’s expression went terrifyingly cold.

“I,” I continued, voice rising, “am running on eight ounces of coffee that Willow gave me this morning, and I would like to get this done before she thinks I’m dead and decides to completely derail this timeline.”

The garden fell silent.

Rafayel slowly uncrossed his legs and stood. The movement was fluid, predatory. His shadow stretched long across the gravel as he stepped toward me, the air around him shimmering faintly with heat.

“You,” he said quietly, “have five seconds to explain how you know any of that before I—”

“Burn me to a crisp?” I asked, scrunching my face in annoyance. Refusing to back down even as my pulse pounded in my throat and my hands shook. “Please do. I’d like to see if I finally die or if I’m just going to wake up here again.”

Rafayel sighed dramatically, rolling his violet eyes. “Please,” he drawled, waving a dismissive hand. “What are you? A time bomb?”

I squared my shoulders, looking up to meet his gaze without flinching. “Wanna find out?”

Mephisto let out an ear-splitting caw from the rooftop, feathers ruffling in clear disapproval.

“Quiet, you.” Rafayel shot back, glaring up at the crow. “You’re the one who brought this disaster to my doorstep.” He turned his attention back to me, studying me with an unsettling intensity.

After a long moment, he exhaled sharply through his nose.

“Fine. You want to go to The Nest? Fine.” He took a step closer, close enough that I could see the flecks in his irises, smell the faint salty scent clinging to him. “But here’s how this is going to work. You tell me exactly who you are, how you know the things you know, and why you’re so desperate to get there.”

His lips curled into a smile, sharp. “And if I like your answers, maybe—maybe—I’ll consider helping you.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but he held up a finger, silencing me with a dramatic sigh as he shook his head. “And enough with the barking.”

I closed my mouth with a click of teeth. I exhaled sharply through my nose, pouting almost. “Fine.”

I hesitated, just for a second before speaking. “I’m Rain. You’re the character of a game I played. I died. I woke up here. Willow took me in. God, that sounds stupid.”

Rafayel’s face faltered for half a second before settling into an amused smile. “Oh, this just keeps getting better,” he purred, circling me like a shark. “Let me guess, I’m your favourite character and you love me so much you had to use The Nest as an excuse to get to me? I’m honored bu—”

“Absolutely not. You’re second place, buddy. But…you were my first main…” I crossed my arms, tilting my head thoughtfully.

That stopped him mid-step, his eyes narrowing as he held up his hand. “Okay, okay. Pretend I believe this excuse. Why The Nest? Why is it so important?”

I glanced away, pursing my lips together as I struggled to find what I wanted to say. “I’m…trying to get my hands on Sylus.” I paused, scrunching my face at the phrasing. “Professionally. I need to make a deal with him.”

Rafayel stared at me pointedly, then turned his gaze to the crow observing us. “Right…and you’re just saving the bird for a snack later?”

I blinked at him. “Why would I eat Mephisto? He’s metal.”

The artist sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. “Your brain must be bloated with water. Why are you going to The Nest to get to Sylus when you could just…” He gestured at Mephisto. “...ask him yourself? Through the bird?”

I paused, my eyes traveled to Mephisto who tilted his head with an almost smug air. That damn crow. I glanced down at my feet, frowning as I processed the information. My lips moved soundlessly as I worked through the logic. “No…” I shook my head slowly, eyes narrowing, brows furrowing. “That’s…too easy.”

Rafayel sighed, shaking his head as he placed his hand on his right hip. “Sure…” He turned to address the crow directly. “Tell your ‘master’ he’s got a…” Rafayel waved a hand in my direction, “...whatever this is, asking for him. And that if he doesn’t come deal with it, I’m tossing it into the bay.”

Mephisto let out a caw before taking flight, his wings glinting in the fading light. I watched him disappear over the rooftops, my mouth hanging open slightly.

“You’re ruining my plan.” I grumbled, turning to glare at Rafayel.

Rafayel tilted his head, shifting all his weight to his left side. “Your plan?” He scoffed, turning to saunter back toward his studio. “Puh-lease, a concussed goldfish would have a better plan. Seriously, no money, no weapons, and apparently no common sense.” He threw a dramatic look over his shoulder, smiling at me. “I just saved your life. You’re welcome.”

I scrambled after him, my boots crunching on the gravel path. “Hold on—Rafayel, I still want to try.”

Rafayel stopped in his tracks, spinning around with an exasperated sigh. “Oh for—No. Absolutely not. You’re not going anywhere near that place.” He gestured at my disheveled appearance. “You look like you decided to wrestle with an eel and lost. Now get inside before—”

A sudden shadow passed overhead. Before either of us could react, something small and hard smacked Rafayel square in the head with a sharp thunk.

“Ow! What the—” He clutched his head as a crimson seed tumbled to the gravel at his feet.

Mephisto circled above us with a triumphant caw before landing on the studio’s roof, preening his feathers with clear satisfaction.

Rafayel stared at the seed, his expression shifting from irritation to something unreadable. He didn’t move to pick it up, just stared.

When he finally looked up at me, he had an annoyed expression on his face. Eyes rolling over, lips pulled into a pout. “Fine,” he said defiantly, “I’ll take you to The Nest.”

He turned on his heel and strode toward the studio door without a word. After a few steps, he paused and glanced back. “And bring that thing in with you.” He added, nodding at the seed still on the ground before disappearing inside.

I hesitated for only a second before scooping up the strange seed. It sat unnaturally warm in my palm, its crimson surface shimmering with faint iridescence. It pulsed faintly, like a tiny heartbeat, only temporarily. The moment my fingers closed around it, Mephisto let out a satisfied croak from the rooftop and the beating stopped.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped across the threshold after Rafayel as the studio door swung shut behind me with a decisive click.