Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: An Unforeseen Complication

There was an old saying, that time heals all wounds.

It was something his mother had told him, once upon a time, back when he was young and the world was kinder, when he and Gemma would tear through the village like little tornados, wild and free and unconcerned about consequences, only to end up with scraped knees and bruised shins as they made their way back home. Cobblestone didn’t have any mages or healers; wounds were treated with herbs and medicine and bandages, all of the things that took a while to work—that took time—and so a few weeks after the day he had turned nine, when he fell out of a tree and broke his arm, his mother had told him that it would take a while before he could move it again.

She had told him that he needed to have patience, needed to be careful, but that someday it would heal.

Because all things healed with time.

She had uttered those words once again after his grandad’s funeral, with tears in her eyes and a hitch in her voice, and he had clung to them just as desperately as he had to her. While saying goodbye to the people he loved would never get easier, she had promised that the pain would lessen, that eventually every parting would become bearable.

Because again, all things healed with time.

They were words that he had kept with him, that he had whispered to himself more than once after turning sixteen and leaving his village—his entire world—behind. They had become a mantra, something to cling to, a phrase that had begun to mean something more than what his mother had intended the farther along he went: that in time, everything would be alright.

That eventually, all things would heal with time.

And as most children often do, he had believed the words his mother had told him.

However...

Standing in his room aboard the Salty Stallion, door closed—and for perhaps the first time firmly locked—Eleven pulled his shirt over his head and turned to look in the full-length mirror propped against the wall.

He had already known what he would see, but knowing didn’t make it any easier to accept. Knowing didn’t make the reality hurt any less.

Time heals all wounds. Those were the words his mother had told him.

He was finding it very hard to believe them now.

Right there, in the very center of his chest, was a scar—a horrible, disfigured circle of wrinkled flesh, a few shades darker than the rest of his skin. The outer rim of it was puckered and raised while the rest looked sunken in, like a large indent over his heart.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. It was simply something that he had been hoping he would never have to see again for the rest of his life.

When he turned around in front of the mirror and glanced over his shoulder to get a look at his back, there was another scar sitting right between his shoulder blades, smaller than the first but no less discolored, no less ugly—a small explosion against otherwise unmarred skin.

Two wrongs that he had righted.

Two things that, for all intents and purposes, should not have been there.

He placed a hand against the wound on his chest as his heart began to sink.

He had saved Yggdrasil.

He had saved Veronica.

He had stopped both Jasper and Mordegon from ruining everything, from destroying the World Tree, from ending countless lives. He had changed things, and once they all made it back to Heliodor under the guise of “celebrating” his triumph over a servant of evil and retrieving the Sword of Light, he would find a way to stop the Lord of Shadows once and for all. He would force him to leave Carnelian’s body, one way or another, and then with his own hands—with the blade he had lost the first time around—he would put an end to him, to everything.

He wouldn’t let Mordegon win this time, wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

However...

Eleven’s hands curled into fists as a bitter feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

Going back in time was supposed to fix everything.

It should have fixed everything, and yet...

He heaved a defeated sigh as he looked at his reflection, at the boy staring back at him with tired eyes and hunched shoulders and a story written in wounds across his flesh.

It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he would never fully escape from his mistakes.

He had carried all of his scars back with him.

Time had erased his failure, but an echo of it still remained, burned into his skin as a constant reminder. He wasn’t some infallible hero of legend. He wasn’t the savior that everyone had hoped for, the Luminary that they all deserved—a light sent to stop the darkness, to protect the people, to save the world.

No.

Instead he was just Eleven, a boy who had already failed once, who allowed Yggdrasil to fall and the darkness to roam free and was now doing everything he could to try and make up for that mistake.

He didn’t necessarily have a plan, per se, but he had goals, a list of things he needed to accomplish, of wrongs to make right, and this—two wounds that shouldn’t be there, that he wasn’t supposed to have, that should’ve been erased because the events that led to them didn’t happen—complicated things.

He had no way to explain either of his scars. He hadn’t had them prior to Arboria, and because all of his friends knew that, he couldn’t try to explain them away as old injuries. To even further complicate matters, they would also be able to tell exactly what kind of wounds they were if they got a close enough look, because the shape, the color, and the general type of scarring were very specific. Maybe not all of them would realize it right away, but one among them definitely would, which was a problem.

After all, every time they stayed at an inn or set up camp, he and Erik shared a room or a tent, and the thief was more perceptive than most. There was no way he wouldn’t notice, that he wouldn’t immediately realize what they were.

Dark magic often left scars if the wounds weren’t treated in time. That was something they had learned pretty early on in their travels.

Running into Jasper in Gondolia was a moment that would probably stay with him for the rest of his life, due in no small part to the events that had transpired not long after. It was the first time he had ever encountered dark magic, the first time he had seen exactly what kind of damage it could wrought.

Erik had a starburst shaped scar on his chest, directly over his heart. The discoloration had lessened significantly after repeated healing sessions, but it was something that he would carry with him always. The thief claimed not to be bothered by that though. He didn’t care what the wound looked like so long as it didn’t hurt or hinder him (and sometimes, he even seemed a bit proud of it).

When Rab had first noticed the scar not long after joining their party, he had explained to all of them the mechanics behind dark magic, how unlike other magic, it sank into the skin and stayed, sometimes bypassing things like armor and clothing completely. The magic would continue to slowly eat away at a person until the wound was healed, which was why certain spells could leave such drastic scars if too much time passed. The strength of the caster had a lot to do with it too, apparently.

Erik had gone more than half a day with Jasper’s magic burning its way through his chest before Serena had been able to heal him. The scar it had left was about half the size of his fist.

And now...

Now Eleven had an almost identical one on his upper back, almost the exact same size and shape—courtesy of the exact same person, even—and that was to say nothing of the significantly larger one on his chest that looked like someone had tried to reach in and tear his heart out (it wasn’t that far off from the truth, all things considered).

A part of him that he very quickly tried to push away was starting to panic.

How was he meant to hide this?

How could he possibly keep something like this from them? If he were to suddenly start asking for his own room or his own tent, it would only make everyone suspicious, and that was the last thing he needed given the number of secrets he was keeping.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm his racing heart, he tried to look at the situation before him objectively.

His friends didn’t know it yet, but their quest was almost over. They wouldn’t actually have to go searching for Mordegon because Eleven knew exactly where he was.

Everything would end once they made it to Heliodor. They would stop Mordegon, save the world, and then after maybe a few celebrations, everyone would go their separate ways for a while (that thought still hurt, but he was getting used to it, because he had always known that this couldn’t last forever).

Rab and Jade (and Hendrik) would remain in Heliodor and probably start discussing plans to rebuild Dundrasil; Sylvando would return to his life of wandering or to Gallopolis (not to his home, to his father, because they haven’t fixed that yet this time around); Serena and Veronica would go back to Arboria, back to their parents, but whether or not they would remain there was pretty up in the air; and then last but certainly not least, Erik would...

Erik would...

Eleven would go with Erik to Sniflheim, would use his powers to save Mia, and once the brother and sister were reunited, the duo would set off on a journey to see the world.

And Eleven...

Eleven would return to Cobblestone, alone, to sort through the list of things he still needed to do and people that he needed to save.

Because Mordegon hadn’t been the only thing wrong with the world (Miko and Ryu definitely came to mind).

There were still plenty of non-Luminary things he wanted to do, some more dangerous than others, and if he came back from those things with a few “new” scars, well...surely no one would question it. Surely he’d be able to find some explanation that would satisfy them all if the topic were to ever come up. He would have plenty of time to figure it out, after all.

Eleven breathed a small sigh of relief as the panic began to recede.

This could work. He might actually be able to pull it off, to keep all of his secrets, even the ones he hadn’t realized he would need to keep.

They would arrive in Heliodor within the week.

He could manage for just one week.

With a plan (sort of) in place, the Luminary walked over to his dresser, pulled out a pair of sleep pants and a shirt, and proceeded to get ready for bed. They had several long days of sailing ahead of them as they followed the king’s boat across the ocean, and he planned on getting as much sleep as he possibly could so that he’d be well-rested when the time finally came to confront the monarch. All he needed to do was come up with a way to lure out Mordegon that didn’t involve killing Carnelian. His entire plan for his future was kind of riding on that after all (reincarnation of the Luminary or not, regicide was still regicide).

It was a strange turn of events really, where the “fulfilling his destiny” part of the plan actually seemed the least daunting. Stopping an ancient evil vs. constantly hiding things and lying to his friends?

He would take the former any day.

As he got into bed, his head sinking into the pillow, Eleven allowed himself a small smile.

It was almost over.

One week, and it would all be over.

Sure, he had more he needed to do, but just this once, maybe he could allow himself that one small comfort, just one small semblance of peace.

Surely that wouldn’t be too much to ask, after everything he had gone through?

Surely he could have just this one thing?

(In a week’s time, he would curse himself for being selfish, because he should’ve known that as the Luminary, he wasn’t allowed to simply want something for himself).

...It was funny, in a way, how life worked sometimes (in a very morbid, everything-that-can-go-wrong-will-go-wrong sort of way, that is).

In hindsight, he should’ve known.

He should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.

He should’ve known that cheating death and cheating time would have consequences, that solving one problem would only create another.

He had forgotten about the star.

He had forgotten about the star and the dark spirit that had looked like a tockle. He had forgotten how Mordegon, the Lord of Shadows, had been the one to destroy the Lantern while the rest of them had simply stood there in a panic as it fell towards the Celestial Sands.

Eleven had undone all of that, and like a chain reaction, undoing one thing had led to several other things being undone, and clearly not all of them had been for the best.

In the end, it felt like all he had managed to do was trade one evil for another, traded a tragedy he knew the outcome to for one he did not. What if this new disaster was worse? 

What if this time around, they lost everything?

Eleven heaved a deep sigh and leaned against the railing of the balcony, chin resting on his arms as he looked out over Heliodor. A few torchlights flickered in the distance, but most people had retired for the night given how late it was. He was technically supposed to be in bed too, but sleep had evaded him to the point where he had simply given up on getting any rest and had taken to wandering the castle instead. Eventually, after a lot of aimless walking, he had found his way to the grand balcony that overlooked the city and the sprawling fields that lay beyond.

The fresh air was nice, and the view was pleasant...as long as he didn’t look up.

So far he had been doing a very admirable job of not looking up.

The night sky helped to hide it from view, but that didn’t matter much when he knew it was there. He didn’t care to see the darkness looming in the distance. It was bad enough having it constantly at the back of his mind.

Tomorrow, they would be heading down to the Emerald Coast to get a better look at the swirling mass of dark energy and to hopefully figure out what was going on. He prayed they would be able to discover something that could help them solve this newest problem, because Eleven, as much as he hated to admit it, had nothing. He had maybe a vague idea about what the dark star was and nothing more. It was definitely something dangerous though—dangerous enough that Mordegon had felt the need to destroy it in the future, to leave his lofty fortress and handle the matter himself.

That didn’t bode well for any of them.

Why couldn’t anything ever just go right for him? Sometimes it felt like his life was just a series of mistakes.

What if he failed this time too? What if he had to shatter the Sphere a second time and undo everything again? What if, no matter how hard he tried, it was simply Erdrea’s fate to be destroyed? How many times would he be willing to go back to try and fix things, to live the same series of events over? How many memories could a single person hold before the lines of reality, of time, began to blur?

How much could he take before losing himself?

With another sigh, Eleven ignored the tiny voice in his head that told him not to and turned his eyes to the night sky, to the stars above and not the darkness in the distance, and tried his best to untangle his jumbled thoughts.

He really needed to sleep. He knew his thoughts kept spiraling because he was running on only a few hours over the course of two days, and the amount he had gotten leading up to their arrival in Heliodor hadn’t been too impressive either despite his best efforts. He needed a full night of uninterrupted sleep, but he knew he simply wasn’t going to get that given everything that had happened.

He had half a mind to just lie down on the flagstones. Maybe sleeping in the open air would be easier than his guestroom.

Perhaps he could even go down to the courtyard and sleep under the tree, right next to the Yggdrasil root. That might work. 

Maybe then he’d finally find the peace of mind to actually get some—

“So this is where you wandered off to.”

Eleven whirled around, startled. He hadn’t been expecting anyone else to be wandering the castle in the middle of the night (aside from the guards, of course, though none of them had had the nerve to approach him so far).

Walking through the doorway and out onto the balcony was Erik, dressed down to just a sleep shirt and pants, and although his gait was relaxed and his smile easy, there was a worry in his eyes that he couldn’t quite hide, that only seemed to shine brighter as he looked at the Luminary.

Eleven wasn’t sure if he was grateful for the unexpected company or not. He had been content to brood alone, but as Erik walked up to him and proceeded to lean against the railing at his side, a tiny bit of peace settled over his chaotic thoughts.

It turned out that having someone with him was a comfort. Having Erik with him was a comfort. His best friend’s presence had always had a sort of calming effect on him, helped to ground him, to make him truly feel like he wasn’t alone, that he would never be alone, no matter what he might face.

He kind of needed that right now.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Erik asked.

“No,” he replied as he turned back around to lean against the railing once more, looking out over the quiet city.

“Can’t say I blame you...”

Eleven glanced at his companion from the corner of his eye. Erik had his attention fixed upwards on the stars, and if anything, the worry in his eyes only seemed to deepen as he stared off into the distance.

“What about you?” Eleven asked. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

Those sharp blue eyes darted over to him for just a moment before a somewhat sheepish smile crossed his partner's face.

“Not exactly,” he said, which wasn’t really an answer. “You weren’t in your room when I checked, so I went looking for you. Figured you’d either be here or in the courtyard.”

That also wasn’t an answer to Eleven’s question (not only that, but it created several more questions). However, instead he chose to focus on the last part.

“The courtyard?” It was kind of amusing, really, that Erik had come to that conclusion when Eleven himself had just been contemplating the idea of heading down there.

“There’s an Yggdrasil root there, right?” the thief said, sounding more than a little unsure as he continued. “I just thought...I don’t know, maybe it had something to show you? Because of what happened?”

Erik rubbed the back of his neck nervously as Eleven looked at him in confusion.

“Look,” he continued, “I don’t really know how it all works. I know you can’t actually ‘talk’ to Her, but She can talk to you when it’s important, right? What happened today seemed pretty important, so...”

He wanted to tell his friend that that wasn’t exactly how it worked, that he couldn’t just go up to any of the roots and expect to be shown exactly what he wanted to see. Yggdrasil amassed memories—every memory ever created across all of Erdrea, across all of time, existed within the World Tree. However, the roots generally only showed him memories based on their locations. When he had touched the one in the courtyard (in another time but not another place), it had shown him Hendrik’s past. It had shown him events that had taken place in Heliodor. He was pretty sure that there was nothing it could show him this time that would be of any help.

However...maybe talking to Yggdrasil wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Even though She wouldn’t be able to talk back to him through any normal means, that didn’t mean She couldn’t listen. As one-sided as the conversation would be, maybe it would be enough to put his mind at east, at least a little. There were things he wanted to say to Her, after all, and he could really use an unbiased party to talk to, one that would listen to what he had to say without judgment.

One who probably understood what was going on, what had already happened, and knew exactly what Eleven had done.

“She didn’t wake me up to talk to me, if that’s what you’re asking,” he said, answering Erik’s half-questions. “...But it might not be a bad idea to try talking to Her later.”

He folded his arms across the railing and once again leaned forward to rest his head on them, looking out over the sleeping city. Despite everything that had happened, Eleven liked Heliodor. It was the first place he had ever traveled to, the start of his journey, and even though things hadn’t gone according to plan, he had met a lot of kindhearted people who called it home. He wanted to build better memories of it this time, to get to know the place and the people that he probably would’ve spent a lot of his childhood visiting had things been different.

This time around, he wanted to protect it.

Because in the back of his mind, he could still see rubble strewn across the streets, homes and shops destroyed, and a once proud castle abandoned, lying broken and crumbling in the dark.

(He wondered just how long it would take for him to stop seeing ghosts).

As if sensing the drastic downward turn of his thoughts, a hand suddenly settled atop his head. Startled by the unexpected touch, he turned to look at Erik, who was watching him with a thoughtful, pensive look on his face.

Despite his somewhat rough-around-the-edges demeanor and his less than hospitable upbringing, Erik was a surprisingly physically affectionate person most of the time. He regularly placed a supportive hand on Eleven’s shoulder or against his back whenever the Luminary started fretting or got a little too lost in his own head. He would throw an arm around him in a half hug, would occasionally pull him into a full hug (mostly after difficult battles where they were all lucky to have come out alive), and he never hesitated to grab Eleven’s arm or his hand in order to pull him out of harm’s way in the cases where his own strength and speed just weren’t quite enough.

This, however, was new though. It felt a little like how his mother used to pat his head as a child, and yet despite being the youngest out of their group, he knew that Erik didn’t see him as a kid.

He wasn’t sure what to make of it.

A small grin began to form on the thief’s face, even though his eyes still looked worried.

“If you keep frowning like that,” he began, his thumb rubbing a tiny circle against Eleven’s temple, “the lines on your forehead might stay that way, and you’re way too young to have a permanent furrow in your brow. I promise there’ll be plenty of time for you to work on that when you’re older, so how about you just give it a rest for now, alright?”

Eleven simply looked at his best friend for a moment in quiet disbelief, a bit stunned by the words that had come out of his mouth, but it wasn’t long before a smile began to tug at his lips and a snort of bright laughter escaped him. 

His shoulders shook as he tried (and failed) to stifle his mirth, burying his face in his arms to hide his undeniable amusement.

Honestly, of all the...

Erik gave the Luminary’s head a gentle pat before withdrawing his hand, a quiet “that’s better” falling from his lips that Eleven was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to hear. Nevertheless, those two words brought with them a warmth that helped to settle some of his slowly fraying nerves after the rather terrible day he had been having.

Still laughing, he raised his head and looked over at his very pleased looking companion.

“You’re ridiculous,” he said, a smile splitting his face.

“Maybe,” the thief agreed. “But I’m not wrong though.”

 With one more peal of laughter, Eleven raised his head and turned towards his friend.

“Thanks, Erik,” he said, putting as much gratitude as he could into his words. “I needed that.”

A hand settled on his shoulder, solid and grounding.

“Anytime, partner.”

With a small but genuine smile still on his face, Eleven returned his attention to the quiet city below, and although the worry wasn’t completely gone from his mind, his heart felt a little bit lighter. Eventually Erik’s hand slid from his shoulder, and the two of them went back to leaning against the railing and looking out over Heliodor in a companionable silence.

The moment was ruined by a rather large yawn from the thief, and from the corner of his eye, Eleven could see him trying to hide it behind his hand to little avail.

“Maybe you should go back to sleep,” he suggested a bit playfully.

“Probably,” Erik replied with a sigh before turning towards the Luminary. “You coming? It’s getting pretty late.”

“I...think I’ll stay out here a while longer.”

There was something he needed to do.

He watched as his friend’s eyes narrowed a bit, the look on his face searching. It was an expression he was familiar with, one that he had been given a lot during the beginning of their journey, back when the two of them were still getting to know each other and everything had been new. It was the look of someone trying to figure out a puzzle, trying to put the pieces together even though several didn’t seem to fit (and this time around several more were even missing).

It had been a while since Erik had looked at him like that, and he quickly realized that he was going to have to be more careful. His partner was an observant person after all, and Eleven, unfortunately, was a really bad liar.

He had never been very good at keeping secrets.

Thankfully, however, instead of calling him out on his behavior, Erik simply heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his spikey hair.

“Okay, fine,” he said, even though he didn’t look entirely satisfied with the situation. “Just don’t stay up too late. We’re supposed to be heading out early tomorrow, and you’re not exactly the easiest person to wake.”

The Luminary rolled his eyes at the light jab towards his sleeping habits.

“I won’t,” he replied. “Goodnight, Erik.”

“Goodnight, El.”

And with that said, the thief walked away, disappearing back inside the castle, and as soon as he was certain that Erik was gone, that he was no longer in range to see or even hear him, Eleven turned back towards the peaceful city of Heliodor and began to gather his magic.

Zoom was an interesting spell, one that didn’t take much to cast and was only as complicated as a person chose to make it. He had picked it up rather quickly after Veronica had taught it to him, and while he hadn’t used it too often during their travels since it only worked for places he had already been to (and he sadly couldn’t zoom an entire ship across the ocean), it had still saved him a lot of time while running errands and doing favors for people.

It was about to save him a lot of time now too, not to mention a great deal of unwanted suspicion. No one would notice him leaving in the dead of night, and he could be there and back before anyone even realized that he was gone.

Perfect.

Taking a deep breath, Eleven closed his eyes and focused on where he wanted to go.

It didn’t take long. It never did.

Without a second thought, he cast his spell.

But as the magic took him, lifting him off the ground and into the clear night sky, he failed to notice a pair of wide blue eyes watching him, failed to hear the frantic call of his name.

He failed to notice anything.

The entire world simply disappeared in a blinding light as every sound was swallowed up by the wind.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: A Much-Needed Talk

Erik made it about halfway down the corridor before he suddenly stopped, turned around, and began heading back towards the balcony.

In his concern over the obviously sleep-deprived and over-burdened Luminary, he had almost forgotten that the entire reason he had been looking for Eleven in the first place was because he had wanted to ask him a question.

After waking up from a less than pleasant dream (not surprising given the day they’d had), he had been lying in bed, thinking back over what had happened the previous night.

For some reason, he just couldn’t get Mordegon’s final words out of his head.

“But do not think that you are the only one who has defied the flow of time.”

It had been bothering him, not only because of what happened not long after with the Lantern, but because it had seemed like those words had been specifically directed towards Eleven.

So instead of lying in his bed wide awake and doing nothing, he had gotten up and made his way to the Luminary’s room to see if his friend was still awake. Obviously he wouldn’t have woken him if he had actually been asleep (satisfying his curiosity was not more important than El getting the rest he desperately needed), but what had greeted him upon pushing open the door was an empty room and no sign of where his partner might have gone.

More than a little concerned, he had decided to track him down, and although some of the night guards had given him strange or suspicious looks, none of them had tried to stop him from wandering the castle. Carnelian had made it clear that all of them were welcome and had forgiven all past transgressions, claiming it was the least he could do considering the circumstances.

Which meant that Erik was allowed—by decree of the king himself—to roam the halls in the middle of the night in order to track down his wayward friend, and no one could tell him otherwise.

Finding Eleven hadn’t been too hard.

However, the moment he had gotten a good look at him, every question had fled his mind and satisfying his curiosity had quickly become the least of his concerns.

Out of all of them, their Luminary had been taking this newest development the hardest, had been zoning out and getting lost in his head all day. Erik had quickly made it his mission to try and help, to pull him back just a bit, to remind him that he wasn’t alone in this. Getting him to smile and laugh had felt like an immense accomplishment, and seeing some of the shadows retreat from his face had put him a little more at ease, so when El had suggested that he go back and try to get some sleep, claiming that he wouldn’t stay up too much later, Erik had decided to listen.

At first, anyway. Remembering his question had changed things.

And besides, something about it all just...

Something just didn’t feel quite right.

Call it a gut feeling or instinct, but something told him that no matter how tired he was, no matter what Eleven might have to say about it later, he shouldn’t leave his friend alone right now.

Because even though he had been smiling, even though some of the darkness had receded from his expression, there had still been something there, a well of emotion trapped behind bright blue eyes that felt too deep and too unfathomable to ever touch. It hadn’t been there before, and needless to say it was more than a little worrying, so no matter the detriment to himself, no matter how exhausted he was going to be in the morning, Erik would go back out there and stay with Eleven until the Luminary decided to go back to sleep.

He would stand with him all night if he had to. That’s what friends were for, after all.

And so with a quiet sigh, the thief stepped out onto the balcony for the second time that night, rubbing at the back of his neck a bit sheepishly as he looked off to the side.

“Uh...hey, El? I just remembered there was something I wanted to ask—”

A bright light in his peripheral and the sound of wind quickly caught his attention, cutting him off as he raised his head.

Eleven was exactly where he had left him, but there was magic swirling around him now, lifting him off the ground in a whirl of blue light. He recognized the spell immediately.

Zoom.

El was casting Zoom.

He was leaving.

“Eleven!”

A panic that he couldn’t quite explain suddenly consumed him as he watched the magic engulf his friend, as the Luminary disappeared right before his eyes.

The winds died and the light faded and Eleven was gone.

He was gone, and Erik had no idea where he went, and even though he tried to tell himself that El would be back, that he wasn’t actually leaving any of them behind, a wave of loss still came crashing down on him, a flood of emotions that were both familiar and unfamiliar, that both felt like his and at the same time did not. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but drowning wasn’t an option, and so he did his best to push it all aside, to put it away for later, and although it worked to an extent, the panic refused to leave him.

Fighting the urge to simply run through the castle corridors (despite being allowed to roam around, he didn’t really want to cause a scene), he instead walked briskly back to his guestroom, ignoring every questioning glance thrown his way by the guards. Once inside, he very quickly got dressed, because he was going to get enough weird looks from people the way it was—he really didn’t need to be wandering around barefoot in just his sleep shirt and pants.

He got the feeling he wasn’t going to be getting any more sleep tonight anyway.

As soon as he was done, he left his room and made his way to the front doors of the castle, and the moment he set foot outside, Erik started sprinting. He ran down the stairs and out the gate, once again ignoring the looks the guards gave him. He also ignored the stares of the few people still milling about in the middle of the night.

Seriously, what were they even doing out so late anyway? Shouldn’t they all be sleeping by now?

He conveniently ignored the fact that technically he was supposed to be sleeping too and therefore wasn’t really in a position to judge. Instead he continued running through the city, down the central street and past the fountain, only stopping once he reached the main gate. If memory served, that was where Heliodor’s Zoom point was.

This was where Eleven would show up once he returned from wherever he had gone.

Spotting a few crates stacked off to the side, he walked over and took a seat, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the area near the gate. A part of him tried to claim that this wasn’t necessary, that there was no reason for him to stay up and wait for the Luminary to return, that Eleven was capable of making his own decisions and technically didn’t have to tell any of them where he was going if he wanted to be alone.

He didn’t have to tell them.

...But he always did.

He always did, and yet this time he hadn’t, and no matter how hard he tried, Erik couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with his friend.

So he would wait.

He would sit by the gate and wait for him to come back and then ask him where he had gone.

And if Eleven refused to answer, then...well...

He would simply have to cross that bridge when he got there.

Heaving a deep sigh, Erik made himself as comfortable as he could and settled in for what was likely going to be a long night. He did his best to ignore the panic still looming at the edge of his mind and the echo of loss sitting low in his chest, but he got the feeling that whether he liked it or not, neither would be leaving him any time soon. They still didn’t make sense, still didn’t entirely feel like his. He couldn’t explain why he felt so on edge, why the sight of El disappearing in a manner that Erik had seen numerous times before suddenly made his blood run cold.

A lot of things during the past week just felt like they didn’t quite make sense, and at the top of his list sat their suddenly quiet, overly sullen Luminary.

Hopefully he would return quickly, but until then, Erik would wait.

And wherever El had gone, he prayed that he would stay safe.

That was all he could do, really.

Yggdrasil was completely mesmerizing at night.

Wisps of light, like little golden birds, weaved between the branches and floated aimlessly through the leaves, casting an ethereal glow over the pools of water and the vibrant plants, making everything shine faintly in the dark. The air was crisp and clear and serene, the silence broken only by the sound of a few small waterfalls trickling over the rocks, falling down towards the world below. The atmosphere was peaceful in a way that was special, a tranquility unique only to the World Tree, that nowhere else on Erdrea could ever achieve.

It settled him in a way that nothing else could, and despite the very late hour, Eleven found himself feeling immensely grateful that he had decided to make this trip.

Very carefully, he picked his way along the path, being sure to tread lightly as he walked across the thick branches that would eventually lead him towards the Heart. The grass and moss that covered the ground were soft against his bare feet, but he knew there were likely small twigs and stones hidden amongst the greenery that would definitely hurt if he were to step on them accidently. In hindsight, he probably should’ve gotten dressed before heading out, or at the very least put on his boots, but in his haste he had forgotten that he’d been standing on the balcony in just his sleep clothes and nothing else (which explained a few of the odd looks he had gotten from the guards while wandering the castle, now that he thought about it).

It didn’t much matter, he supposed. It’s not like Yggdrasil would care what he was wearing, and he’d be returning to Heliodor before dawn, so no one would really see him walking through the city in the dead of night. Sure, walking barefoot across the cobbled streets would probably be uncomfortable, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. It was a small price to pay for the peace of mind he was hoping to find amidst Yggdrasil’s branches.

The light was getting brighter ahead of him. He followed it farther along the trail, passing under a canopy of leaves until finally he stepped forward into the hollow that housed the heart of the World Tree, the source of all life in their world.

It truly was a sight to behold; he immediately felt calmer just looking at it. There was warmth in that gentle light, a warmth that slowly began to spread through him with each and every step that he took, and so with a deep breath followed by an equally deep sigh, Eleven tried his best to gather his thoughts and finally put them into words.

“I don’t know if you can actually hear me,” he began as he moved a little closer. “I don’t really understand how this connection between us works, but I wanted to talk to you anyway.”

He came to a stop before the Heart, in the exact same place he had stood to retrieve the Sword of Light, and raised his left hand to rest it lightly against the vines. His mark didn’t glow, but neither was his touch rejected, and that was enough to encourage him to keep speaking. He needed to get a few things off his chest, things that he could never say to anyone else, because no one knew what really happened—no one knew that their Luminary had failed, that he had to shatter time in order to fix a mistake. He carried with him memories and experiences that no one else had, that no one else would ever have, and that was a good thing, of course it was, but...

But it was also painfully lonely.

However, in this lonely world, there was perhaps one other who carried the same memories he did, who existed outside the confines of time.

Yggdrasil.

Maybe it was a Luminary thing, but he got the feeling that Yggdrasil remembered.

Somehow, he just knew that She did.

And it made him feel just a little less alone.

“First, I wanted to apologize,” he began softly, “for what happened before. I’m sorry that I wasn’t good enough. I’m sorry I let you fall. So many people died because of me...”

He took a shuddering breath and lowered his head.

“Veronica died because of me.”

It hurt to say, and he had told himself that he was done wallowing over it, that if Serena was going to be strong then he would be strong too, but that didn’t happen this time around because Veronica was alive, and...

He took another deep breath and tried to stop himself from shaking. He didn’t come here to break down in front of the World Tree.

“I thought going back in time would fix everything. I thought stopping Mordegon would save you, would save the world, but...now there’s something else to deal with. I forgot about the Lantern. I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s not good. Mordegon was concerned about it enough to destroy it last time before anything could happen, and it makes me wonder if he was afraid of whatever was inside.”

It was a sobering thought, that. It also worried him a great deal. What was he supposed to do if this new threat was stronger than Mordegon? He’d had almost an entire year to travel, to grow strong enough to take down the Lord of Shadows. Would this new threat give them enough time? What if in a few days that dark star descended and started to tear the world apart? Would they be able to handle it?

Or would he lose everything this time?

“I’m sorry, Yggdrasil,” he said. “I don’t mean to complain, but I just...I’m just so tired, and I don’t have anyone else I can talk to. My friends, they don’t know what happened. They don’t know, and I want it to stay that way, but I carried everything back with me, and I don’t know how long I can pretend that everything is okay. Sooner or later, they’re going to figure it out. They’re going to notice that something’s wrong, and I can’t...”

He reached up towards his chest with his right hand, clutching the fabric of his shirt and pressing his fist against the scar hiding beneath it.

“What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to tell them? Will they...?”

He sucked in a sharp breath and leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the vines.

“...If they find out, will they blame me?”

Perhaps that, more so than anything else, was what he was truly afraid of. If they were to find out what had happened, how badly he had failed the first time around, would they leave? Would they lose faith in him as their Luminary?

No.

He knew they wouldn’t leave. He knew that they would still see this through with him to the bitter end just like they had before, but even though he knew that, even though he was sure they wouldn’t leave, it didn’t change the fact that knowing and believing were two different things.

There was always going to be a part of him, a tiny voice in the back of his head, that simply couldn’t let go.

The light shining from the Heart of Yggdrasil almost seemed to glow brighter for a moment, and he could feel something deep within him settle if only a little.

He took one more deep breath to try and ground himself, pushing his worries aside. That wasn’t why he came here, after all.

“Sorry,” he said. “I know I’m being ridiculous. I know I’m probably making a bigger deal out of some of this than I should, but...I just don’t want to mess up this time. I want to get it right. I want to protect everyone—my friends, the world, you. There was so much I couldn’t do last time, so many people I couldn’t save. I want to save them all this time. I promise I’ll be strong enough. I won’t make the same mistakes twice. Whatever’s waiting for me out there, I will face it, and I will win.”

(If he said it enough, perhaps one day he could believe it).

“You’ve already helped me so much on this journey. Even when Mordegon destroyed your heart, you still found the strength to guide me, to give me what I needed to make things right.”

He raised his head and looked up at the swirling mass of light in front of him.

“I would ask that you please watch over me just one more time. I’ll do my best to be the Luminary you need, the Luminary that everyone wants me to be. I won’t fail you.”

The vine beneath his hand pulsed softly, and a warmth washed over him, spreading from the tips of his fingers down into his chest, easing the tumultuous pit of emotions that had been swirling in his stomach ever since he shattered Time’s Sphere, ever since he left everything behind to try again.

Eleven closed his eyes and smiled.

“Thank you, Yggdrasil,” he said softly. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay here a little longer.”

He knelt down carefully and then turned to sit, resting his back against the vines that protected the Heart. He wasn’t ready to go back just yet, wasn’t ready to face the world again.

Instead he made himself comfortable and continued speaking, and while Yggdrasil was silent, he knew She was listening.

He told Her about all of the things he wanted to fix, the people he wanted to help, and the goals he hoped to achieve. He told Her stories of his friends, his family, regaling Her with some of the crazier things they had seen and done, the lighter moments of his journey.

It helped, saying it all out loud, and he barely even noticed as his eyes began to droop and his words began to slow, his head lolling to the side and falling forward as his thoughts quietly scattered, fading away as he got lost in the stillness of the night.

In the end, Erdrea’s Luminary drifted off to sleep amongst Yggdrasil’s branches, with a gentle warmth at his back and the sound of leaves rustling quietly in the wind.

Eleven returned to Heliodor only an hour before dawn, the magic of Zoom setting him down just inside the main gate. His feet hit the cobbles, and he immediately looked out into the town to see that the streets were thankfully still deserted. He really hadn’t wanted to walk back to the castle with a bunch of people staring at him in his not entirely dressed state. After all, he had only just gotten his name cleared—he certainly didn’t need people thinking that there was something else wrong with him (even though there kind of was).

He looked ahead at the castle in the distance and at the sky above that was only just starting to lighten. It was way later than he had intended, but he could still make it back before any of his friends woke up. While Sylvando, Veronica, and Erik were all early risers, even they weren’t usually awake before dawn. He had plenty of time to sneak back to his room and pretend that he had been sleeping there for at least half the night. No one would even notice that he'd been gone.

He could definitely pull this off without—

A hand descended on his shoulder, startling him so badly that he nearly screamed as he was forcibly spun around, coming face to face with maybe not the last person but definitely not someone he had expected to see.

A pair of very angry blue eyes were staring back at him, their intensity matched only by the severity of their owner’s frown and the almost bruising grip he had on Eleven’s shoulders.

“Erik!? What—”

“Where were you?” his friend demanded, his voice pitched low given the early hour but his tone no less harsh.

Unfortunately for Erik’s obviously frayed nerves (and probably patience), Eleven was still having trouble wrapping his head around the fact that the thief had somehow known where he’d be, meaning that he had to have realized that the Luminary left.

“H-how did...? Why are you—”

“I saw you leave.”

“What? But you were going back to your—”

“I remembered that I had wanted to ask you something, but when I went back to the balcony, I saw you casting Zoom.”

Eleven swallowed a bit thickly. Erik kept cutting him off, his words clipped and to the point, which meant that his friend was legitimately angry with him right now. Panicking just a bit, he quickly wracked his brain for an explanation—or at the very least a way out of the trouble he had unintentionally found himself in.

“W-what did you want to ask me?” he tried, earning him a glare.

“That’s not important right now. Where were you?”

“Um...”

What was he supposed to do? It was painfully obvious that no matter how much Eleven might want him to, Erik was not going to let this go. Essentially, he had just two options before him: tell the truth or try to lie.

Historically, he wasn’t the best liar, mainly because he didn’t like lying. He especially hated lying to his friends. It was bad enough that he was already keeping a massive amount of secrets from them; he really didn’t want to keep adding to that list.

In this instance, could he tell the truth? Would it reveal anything or create suspicion? Could he tell Erik that he had gone to visit Yggdrasil and not have to fully explain to him why?

He took a good look at his partner. There were dark circles forming under his eyes, and his blue spikes were rather disheveled, as if he had spent a good deal of time running his hands through his hair in frustration.

He looked like someone who had spent all night sitting outside, anxiously awaiting the return of a friend, one who hadn’t bothered to tell anyone where they were going or that they were even leaving in the first place.

The anger being directed at him was wholly justified. Eleven would probably be mad too if their roles were reversed.

Erik rarely got mad at him—he could probably count the number of times it had happened on one hand—and whenever he did, his anger always came from a place of worry. Whether he had meant to or not, Eleven had caused his friend enough concern that he had sat outside by the gate for half the night, waiting for the Luminary to return. He had lost sleep because of him, and that was more than enough to leave him feeling guilty over his actions.

Erik deserved the truth.

With a deep albeit very shaky breath, he steeled himself for whatever might happen.

“I went to see Yggdrasil.”

The anger on Erik’s face almost immediately melted into confusion.

“Yggdrasil? But you... Wait, you mean...?”

Eleven only nodded and then watched as a series of emotions passed over his friend’s face, from confusion to incredulity to exasperation and finally to a somewhat annoyed form of acceptance, followed by a deep, very put-upon sounding sigh. Slowly he released Eleven’s shoulders and took a step back, running a hand through his already rather messed up hair.

“When you said you were going to talk to Yggdrasil later,” he muttered, “I didn’t think you actually meant...”

With a frustrated huff, he crossed his arms and directed his not-quite-a-glare-anymore towards the street.

“You should’ve said something if you were going to be leaving.”

“I...” Okay, fair enough, but at the same time, “I was planning on coming back before anyone noticed.”

His partner gave him a rather unimpressed look.

“You were gone for hours, El. What were you even doing?”

“I told you, I went to talk to Yggdrasil. There were some things that I...” He bit his lip and carefully sifted through his words, pulling out only the pieces that were safe. “There were some things that I wanted to say to Her, about what happened. I just...needed to talk to Her, that’s all.”

Erik’s expression softened, something close to understanding crossing his face. He took a deep breath, and as he released it slowly, it was as if all of his remaining irritation over the situation was released along with it.

“It’s almost dawn, you know,” he said, sounding about as tired as he looked.

“I know,” Eleven replied a bit ruefully. “I really did mean to come back sooner, but I just... Well, I kind of...fell asleep.”

He was half expecting exasperation or incredulity again, but what he got instead was genuine surprise and perhaps just a touch of satisfaction.

“You fell asleep?”

“...It’s very peaceful there.”

That earned him an amused, lopsided grin and another sigh that, if he didn’t know any better, he would say sounded just a little bit fond. He returned Erik’s smile with a small one of his own, but it quickly disappeared as the thief failed to hold back a yawn and reached up to rub at his eyes.

That feeling of guilt was starting to creep back in.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long. You were only out here because of me, and...”

Erik quickly waved off his words, and Eleven fell silent.

“Yeah, well,” the thief began, “I was the one who chose to wait out here, so don’t worry about it, alright? Let’s just get back to the castle. Might be able to catch a few more hours before everybody else wakes up.”

He motioned for Eleven to follow him as he began slowly walking down the empty street. He didn’t pick up his pace until the Luminary fell into step beside him.

Together, they made their way through the city of Heliodor, and despite traveling in silence, a strange kind of peace fell over Eleven. It was different from the serenity that surrounded Yggdrasil, and yet it settled his heart in much the same way.

Despite everything that had happened, everything that had changed, this was one thing that hadn’t, and it was funny in a way how something so simple could have such a calming effect on him.

Something as simple as walking side by side with one of the most important people in his life.

Just for a moment, he allowed himself to sink into the familiarity of it and push everything else away.

From the very beginning, Erik had always been by his side—guiding him, protecting him, doing everything he could to aid him in his quest. He had carved out a place for himself right next to Eleven. Whether it was in battle, at camp, or trekking across Erdrea, all the Luminary had to do was look over to know that he wasn’t alone.

He wanted it to stay that way. He didn’t want to lose this.

He would rather drown in all of his secrets than give this up.

He couldn’t lose his friends, couldn’t lose his family, couldn’t lose Erik.

It would break him.

It would absolutely break him.

He could never tell them what happened. He couldn’t let them find out.

No matter what, he had to keep it a secret.

He had to.

He—

A hand on his shoulder, solid and grounding.

“I thought I told you to stop frowning like that—your face might get stuck that way. Seriously, whatever it is, I’m sure it can’t be that bad, so don’t worry so much, El. We’ll figure this out, okay? I promise.”

His heart twisted painfully in his chest.

“...Thanks, Erik.”

He couldn’t lose this.

And he would do everything in his power to make sure he never did.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: An Unpleasant Revelation

It’s always something.

This was the thought that crossed his mind as Erik looked around at their rather somber, subdued party.

With a heavy sigh, he sat down on a log near the campfire and began working on the stew he was supposed to be making. It was his turn to cook dinner tonight, and so he pulled out one of the knives he kept strictly for food prepping, grabbed a potato from his stack of vegetables, and started carefully slicing it into pieces.

Normally when they set up camp, the air would be filled with noise as they divided up chores and pitched tents and Veronica asked (multiple times) how long it would take for the food to be ready. Sometimes Serena would play her harp or Sylvando would play his flute or Rab and Jade would tell them all a story of something interesting that had happened during their travels, but no matter how they spent their evening, it was always pleasant and relaxing and allowed all of them a chance to just kick back for a moment and unwind after a hard day’s work.

There was none of that tonight. Instead they moved around silently, only exchanging a few words when necessary, all too lost in thought after everything that had happened, everything they had learned.

It was hard to be cheerful upon finding out that a large part of your world’s history was a lie.

It was also hard to be cheerful upon realizing that your best friend was the reincarnation of a man who had been murdered by his best friend.

That was no way for a legendary hero to go...

...But perhaps the worst part about it all was that despite everything that had happened, everything that had stemmed from that single, terrible act...Erik couldn’t bring himself to hate Morcant. He just couldn’t. The old sorcerer was the one who had put him on the path he was currently walking, who had promised him redemption, who had led him to Eleven, and by doing so had given Erik so much more than he ever thought he’d be able to have.

Who knew where he might’ve ended up if the Seer hadn’t decided to interfere?

No matter what, he would always be grateful for that.

The thief dumped his neatly cut potato slices into a bowl, setting them aside for later. He then reached for his pile of vegetables again, grabbed a few carrots, and began to give them much the same treatment. As one of the few amongst their party who knew how to cook, this was often his job. He was certainly no gourmet chef, nor did he have any interest in being one, but he had actually learned a lot from his time with the Vikings since he had regularly been forced to cook meals for them. He didn’t particularly like thinking about it (very little about those years could be classified as “pleasant”), but in the end he was kind of grateful for the skill. It had helped him survive—hell, it had helped Eleven survive, since the boy had been pretty hopeless at cooking when Erik had first met him. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what the Luminary would’ve done if he hadn’t been around to help.

(Yet another reason for him to be grateful to Morcant, apparently).

As he continued to perform the familiar, monotonous task of preparing dinner, falling into a steady rhythm as he wielded his knife, Erik’s mind inevitably began to wander. There was definitely a lot he needed to sort through, both personal and not, but as expected, he was having a hard time turning his thoughts away from what had happened earlier, from what the eight of them had been shown.

Just how powerful was Calasmos, that he could tempt a man into killing his best friend, Yggdrasil’s chosen, the Luminary? Was the darkness truly that enticing that it could corrupt someone who had set out with the intention of saving the world?

Was Calasmos simply that strong, or had Morcant been weak?

It was hard to picture him as weak.

If only they had been able to talk to the man more, to have just a few more moments with him before he passed. There had been so many things that Erik had wanted to say to him, things he had wanted to ask. He never got the chance to thank him for everything that he had done, for seeing something worthwhile in him, something worth saving, because even though the last part of the prophecy had yet to come true, he knew with absolute certainty that it would. Those words hadn’t been a lie.

One day, he would find forgiveness.

If their newest journey ever took them back to Sniflheim, this time he would ask Eleven to save Mia. With the Sword of Light, surely his power would be enough to break the curse. He was the Luminary, after all—a light sent by Yggdrasil to save the world and cast out the darkness.

Erik wasn’t really one for faith, but...that hadn’t stopped him from placing every ounce of it he had in Eleven.

His partner was someone worth believing in.

“...Do you need any help?”

Startled (though thankfully not enough to nick himself with his blade), he looked up to see the subject of his thoughts peering down at him, and while there had been some hesitation in his voice, the Luminary’s expression was carefully neutral.

He wondered if their leader was simply trying to appear unbothered by what had happened for their sakes. It was the kind of thing he would do—push down his own problems in order to keep everyone from worrying. That’s just the way he was, and to be honest, it was rather touching sometimes. Other times it was downright exasperating. It certainly wouldn’t kill him to take a little better care of himself.

Erik finished the carrot slices he was working on and set them aside.

El surely had more important things to be doing, but he wasn’t about to turn down help, especially when it came from their Luminary. He liked spending time with him, and given how chaotic their lives were probably about to become, he would take whatever moments he could get.

“Sure,” he said, offering his friend a smile. “Can you finish cutting these up for me? I still need to get started on the meat.”

“Okay.”

Eleven sat down on the log next to him, grabbed a knife, and began carefully cutting the rest of the vegetables into pieces.

This was a familiar feeling, sitting together by the fire, preparing food for dinner. Back when it was just the two of them, they had tackled most chores together, using the time to talk and get to know each other since they were going to be traveling companions for the foreseeable future. It had done them a lot of good in the end. It was easier to fight alongside someone that you knew well, that you felt you could trust, and those early days had set the foundation for the relationship they had now.

While he liked all of his companions (even Hendrik, though he wasn’t particularly keen to admit it), he wouldn’t trade these quiet moments with Eleven for anything.

“...I trust all of you, you know.”

The words were soft but they startled him nonetheless, breaking through the silence that had settled over them.

He looked over at the Luminary, confused, because that had literally come out of nowhere.

“What?” he asked, watching as Eleven lowered his head, his hair hiding his face from view.

“You’ve all been quiet ever since we saw what happened with Erdwin and Morcant. I was worried that...” He paused in his chopping, his hand tightening around the hilt of the knife. “I thought you might all think that I...”

Taking a deep breath, Eleven raised his head and turned to look at Erik, his blue eyes firm with determination.

“I trust you. I trust all of you. I know that none of you would ever...that you wouldn’t...”

Erik’s eyes widened a bit as he realized exactly what it was that his partner was trying to say.

In truth, it hadn’t even crossed his mind. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of El doubting them, of him being worried about that particular piece of information and what it could potentially mean.

Erdwin had been betrayed by someone he had trusted, someone who had vowed to fight beside him, all because Calasmos had promised power, had pushed his way into Morcant’s heart and mind, and the sorcerer had been unable to resist. Knowing that, Eleven would have every right to be worried, and yet despite what they had learned, he was saying that he wasn’t. He was choosing to believe in them.

They all cared a great deal about their Luminary. Surely there was nothing Calasmos could offer that would ever make them betray their friend.

Erik would sooner die than hurt Eleven.

“What I’m trying to say is, I don’t want any of you to think that I’m going to start doubting you just because of what happened to Erdwin.”

The thief reached over and placed a hand on his partner’s shoulder, offering him a grin.

“I know you wouldn’t,” he said, “but thanks, El.”

The smile those words earned him was soft and relieved.

“Good,” the boy sighed. “I’m glad.”

Erik could practically feel the tension seeping out of his friend’s body as he slumped forward, leaning into the touch upon his arm, and as one of the Luminary’s knees knocked against his own, the thief couldn’t help but take note of how little distance there actually was between them, sitting together as they were.

...It would be so easy to slide his hand up, to cup the side of El’s face or the back of his head and close that remaining distance...

His heart thumped loudly in his chest.

He would be lying if he said that he had never thought about it before, about taking a leap of faith (albeit a very different kind than the one he had taken off that cliff in Heliodor). The line between them was a fine one, and there were moments where it felt like both of them were aware of it, but no matter how much he might want to, no matter how curious he was, Erik had never been able to bring himself to cross it.

As a thief, he was used to going after the things he wanted, sometimes a bit more single-mindedly than was probably wise, but this was different. He couldn’t simply take what he wanted. Too much would change if he tried, and he couldn’t bear losing what he already had—something precious and incredible and so much more than what he ever thought he’d be allowed to have.

He couldn’t be selfish in this. He had to try and be content with this one-sided attraction, because the bottom line was that he didn’t know how Eleven felt, and without that knowledge, he wouldn’t act on his own feelings.

He couldn’t.

Because El was too important to risk losing.

Just being by his side would have to be enough.

He gave the Luminary’s shoulder a comforting squeeze before going back to his job of preparing dinner. The two of them fell into a companionable silence as they worked, but as he got into a rhythm again, as the repetitive task began to take less and less of his concentration, Erik’s mind started to wander once more. His thoughts inevitably turned back to Morcant and Calasmos and everything they now knew about the darkness, which ultimately led him back to the Lord of Shadows himself, Mordegon.

The timing of it all just...really bothered him. Calasmos had returned not even a full day after Mordegon had been defeated. That couldn’t be a coincidence. Had Calasmos simply been waiting for the Lord of Shadows to be killed before breaking the seal, or was there more to it than that? Surely a being as powerful as him hadn’t been scared of Mordegon, so why wait? And if he wasn’t scared, then what had kept him from coming back before now? It just didn’t add up. It felt like they were missing something.

Mordegon’s final words still bothered him too.

...Come to think of it, he never did get around to asking Eleven about it. His question had gotten pushed aside, first by exhaustion and then in favor of all the other things they had needed to do at the time.

The two of them were sitting alone by the campfire. It was the perfect opportunity to ask, away from their sometimes-too-nosy-for-their-own-good friends.

He might as well just go for it.

“Hey, El? I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“What is it?” Eleven asked as he finished the potato he’d been chopping and picked up another.

“It’s about something that Mordegon said,” he began, trying to keep his words light and conversational. “Do you have any idea what he meant by not being the only one who defied the flow of time?”

A sharp gasp came from his left, and he looked over just in time to see the knife in El’s hand slip and cut deep into his thumb (in hindsight, he probably should’ve waited to ask until the Luminary wasn’t holding a sharp object in his hands).

Eleven bit his lip, hissing in pain as he dropped both the knife and the potato. Erik’s own knife followed shortly after as he immediately reached for Eleven’s injured hand.

“Let me see,” he said, his touch gentle as he examined the cut. It was bleeding a lot, but it wasn’t anything Eleven couldn’t heal. He quickly reached over and grabbed one of the cloths he usually used for wiping off his knives (he hadn’t used it for anything yet, thankfully) and pressed it against El’s palm. “Here, you can use this for the bleeding.”

“Thanks.”

The Luminary’s hands began to glow with the soft light of healing magic as the wound in his thumb slowly closed up. He used the cloth to clean off the blood and then wordlessly set it aside before picking up his knife again.

“S-sorry,” he said, his voice suddenly pitching a little higher than normal. “I’ll just go wash this off and...”

Erik reached out and caught his friend’s arm, forcing him to remain seated.

“I’m almost done,” he told him carefully, watching to see his reaction, because if he didn’t know any better, he’d say that El was trying to run away. “There’s no point in making two trips. We can take everything down to the stream just as soon as I get the pot over the fire.”

His partner swallowed rather thickly, and an expression close to panic washed over his face before it fell into something carefully blank.

He had definitely been trying to run away then, which implied that he did in fact know something about what Mordegon had said but that he didn’t want to talk about it right now (or at all, really).

Unfortunately for him, Erik wasn’t feeling kind enough at the moment to let it go.

He released El’s arm slowly and went back to his food prepping, but he kept half his attention on the Luminary.

“So,” he began, picking the conversation back up as if nothing had happened, “do you have any idea what he might have meant?”

Eleven was fiddling with the knife in his hands in place of wringing them (he never could keep still when he was nervous), and given what had happened just moments before, it took all of Erik’s willpower not to reach over and take it away from him.

“...No, I don’t.”

“Really? You haven’t thought about it at all? It was kind of an odd thing to say...”

“...No, I haven’t.”

Erik fought the urge to sigh. This wasn’t getting him anywhere.

Eleven had a tell, which was one of the many reasons why he was such a terrible liar. He always hesitated. About the only lie that fell naturally from his lips was “I’m fine,” and all of them had learned not to believe him on that one regardless, so it didn’t really count.

He was pretty sure that El knew what Mordegon had meant, and yet for some reason he was refusing to talk about it.

Maybe if Erik offered a few theories of his own, he’d be more inclined to discuss it.

“I think,” he began, “that he might’ve been talking about Calasmos. It’s the only thing I’ve been able to come up with that makes any sense. The Lantern fell not even a day after we beat Mordegon. It makes me wonder if he knew something like that was going to happen once he was gone, if Calasmos was just waiting for someone to kill him before coming back.”

He set his knife aside and began dumping all of the prepared ingredients into the pot.

“I can’t really wrap my head around the ‘flow of time’ thing though, or what he meant by not being the ‘only one,’ so I was hoping that maybe you had some ideas about it? Maybe some kind of Luminary’s intuition or something?”

He waited patiently for a response and kept a close eye on his friend, trying to read whatever he could from an expression that was still carefully blank. He watched as Eleven’s hands finally fell still (much to Erik’s relief) before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He knew what the answer would be before the words even left his mouth.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I don’t know,” he said, his tone careful and measured. “I haven’t really given it much thought, but if I think of something, I’ll be sure to tell you.”

There was a finality to that statement. He wasn’t going to be getting anything more out of Eleven—at least not right now, anyway. Also, he was more sure now than ever that their Luminary was definitely hiding something from them, something important.

He didn’t want to let this go yet, could easily come up with a few more probing question to ask him, but in the end he wasn’t given a choice. In one swift motion, Eleven grabbed everything that Erik had been using to prepare dinner with and got to his feet, offering the thief a smile that was obviously forced.

“I’ll go wash these,” he said. “I’m sure you need to watch the stew, right?”

No, he did not. He could spare enough time to wash up, just like he always did, and Eleven knew that, but the boy didn’t even wait for Erik to reply before he practically ran from the campfire.

The thief heaved a deep sigh, finished hanging the pot of stew over the fire, and then sat back down on his log.

Eleven wasn’t fooling anyone, really. They all knew something was wrong, that something about him was different, but what bothered Erik the most was the sudden (and frankly unwarranted) secrecy. He wasn’t used to it. He wasn’t used to his best friend keeping things from him like this or refusing to discuss something with him at all.

Before Arboria, El had often asked for his opinion on things, usually coming to him first when it came to making major decisions. Honestly, it had surprised him a bit, especially because he knew there were people better suited to the task (Rab and Sylvando were a lot more well-traveled than he was), but the Luminary’s trust in him had made him feel important, and so he had always done his best to give him whatever kind of support he needed.

He had been touched to know that El thought so highly of him, of his abilities and opinions, and while it was true that his partner did still came to him for things, still asked him for his thoughts, it was...different from before. He used to be able to read Eleven well, used to know what he was thinking or how he was feeling just by looking at him, and rarely did he try to pretend anytime that Erik happened to notice that something was wrong.

That wasn’t the case anymore. Now, it was as if El had placed a wall around himself, one that he was determined to stay behind no matter what, and try as he might, Erik just couldn’t figure out what was wrong with his friend. He hadn’t been like this prior to Arboria.

What could have changed?

What could he possibly have to hide that was making him so nervous?

Why did he feel like he had to lie?

Erik didn’t have an answer. Not yet.

But he was determined to find one. Eleven couldn’t keep this façade up forever, after all.

With one more sigh, the thief fixed his gaze on the pot of stew and settled in for what was likely to be a very long, very lonely hour. Technically this kind of meal didn’t need constant attention, but with his partner currently avoiding him, it’s not like he had anything better to do with his time.

In the distance, he could already hear Veronica yelling about dinner.

Make that a very long hour.

...He didn’t want to be here.

He really didn’t want to be here.

Honestly, this was quite possibly the last place on all of Erdrea that Eleven wanted to be. He had been desperately hoping that he would never have a reason to come back here again, to stand in this place again, but it would seem that life, as usual, had other plans.

Sometimes it felt like everything in the world was conspiring against him—and yes, he was aware of just how paranoid that sounded.

He found that he didn’t really care.

Fighting the urge to simply close his eyes until everything was over, the Luminary took a deep breath that ultimately didn’t help him any and did his best not to come apart. Instead, he tried to keep his expression neutral, to not let his anxiety show, to treat this like any other step along their journey to a new, unknown place.

He tried not to stare at the Timekeeper, tried not to flinch as Veronica and Serena stepped onto the dais, and he absolutely did everything within his power to keep his eyes from wandering towards the Sphere. Unfortunately, it was rather hard to ignore—giant glowing spheres usually were—but what made the situation even worse was that he could tell that his friends were looking at it too, their eyes drifting to it more often than not.

After all, they had seen it in that final vision, had watched Serenica try to shatter it with her sword. It was only natural that they’d be curious, that they would want to know what it was and what exactly she had been trying to do.

It was normal to want answers. He knew that.

He knew that.

But that didn’t mean he was willing to give them.

...Honestly, a part of him was just waiting.

Waiting for the inevitable question to drop, for an actual memory to bleed through—for one of them to line the pieces up and somehow arrive at the truth.

It was nerve-wracking.

It was absolutely nerve-wracking. He hated it.

He wanted to leave.

He wanted to leave.

Because he didn’t want them to find out.

And perhaps that was a bit selfish of him. Perhaps it was selfish to hide the truth. After all, it’s not as if he “couldn’t” tell them—the Timekeeper didn’t say anything about having to keep it a secret from his friends. However, the fact of the matter was that he simply didn’t want to, that he would rather keep the future to himself. This was his burden to bear, and he would do so alone.

He didn’t want them to know.

He didn’t want them to know that they had failed—that he had failed—and he didn’t want them to worry about possibly failing now. It was better if they believed in him, better if they kept having faith in him—trusting in miracles or the power of the Luminary or whatever it was about him that they all clung to, that gave them hope. He would shoulder the truth alone, because their belief was better than the truth, better than the realization that he was just as human as anyone else, just as capable of failing and making mistakes.

Only his failure had led to the world being destroyed, to countless lives being lost, and to the sacrifice of a precious friend.

...He didn’t want Veronica to know that she had died.

He didn’t want anyone to know that she had died.

Because in the end, she had died for them. For him.

She had died because he hadn’t been enough.

Their Luminary hadn’t been enough.

It was too much sometimes.

Everything was just too much sometimes...

...It turned out that Eleven had gotten so lost in thought, so busy drowning in his memories of the future, that when a hand suddenly descended on his shoulder, it actually took him a moment to realize it was there.

Too out of it to even be startled, apparently.

He looked at the hand—larger than the one he was used to—and then looked up into the worried face of his self-appointed guardian, Sir Hendrik.

He could’ve sworn that the knight had been standing with the others.

For the most part, ever since reaching the top floor of the tower, Eleven had been trying to distance himself from the Sphere. He had moved away from their group but not quite far enough to make his avoidance obvious (or so he hoped). Honestly, he hadn’t been expecting anyone to fall back to try and talk to him. He had assumed they were all too enraptured by what was going on and by the tower itself.

Simply put, he didn’t want to talk to them about it, didn’t want to hear any of their musings. What Erik had said to him while they were making their way up had been bad enough.

“Wow! Look at that huge hourglass in the center of the tower! It’s weird, watching the sand fall. It feels like all the time that has passed is right here, somehow...”

He had felt his heart stop for a moment at those words.

“...Sorry, I’m not sure where that came from. It was just a thought that came into my head. Just ignore me, okay?”

He didn’t know how many more moments like that he could take. The Timekeeper had said that he would have his memories, but she hadn’t told him anything about all of this “déjà vu” stuff that kept happening. The least she could’ve done was warn him—although to be fair, she had said that no one could predict the results of shattering time, so it was unlikely that she could have known that this would become a thing.

That wasn’t going to stop him from being frustrated by it though.

Whatever Hendrik had to say to him, he prayed it wouldn’t have anything to do with the tower.

“Are you alright?” the knight asked softly, clearly trying not to draw attention to them, which Eleven was immensely grateful for. “You appear to be quite pale.”

There was genuine concern there, both on his face and in his tone, and while it certainly surprised him given the circumstances, it was also painfully familiar at the same time.

His relationship with Hendrik was an interesting one, because although the knight had only been with them for a short while, Eleven carried the memories of a friendship built up over months of traveling together, fighting together, relying on each other. After waking up to find the world changed and his friends gone, Hendrik had been the only person he’d had, and from their tentative relationship had grown a very different kind of bond.

The knight had been his protector and confidant, someone who had stood by him through everything that had happened in that dark, foreboding world.

An unswerving companion indeed.

But now they were back at square one, except not really because Eleven still remembered. He knew things about Hendrik that few others did, things the knight had yet to share with him this time around. He had to be careful when speaking to him. This Hendrik hadn’t told him yet about his fear of insects or his time spent in Puerto Valor. He had yet to talk to him about their shared love of horses, or hear stories about how poor of a student he had been when studying in Heliodor, or catch him humming the melody of the Calamus flute to himself when he thought no one was listening.

Eleven wasn’t his friend yet, even though Hendrik was his. There was still a distance between them that needed to be crossed.

“I’m fine.”

He was pretty sure that lying to Hendrik was not a great first step towards crossing it, but there was no way for him to explain his anxiety about being in the tower without giving something away.

The knight gave him a look that was just shy of disapproving.

“Forgive me,” he began, “but I was informed by several of our companions that those words from you are always a lie, despite the fact that you are, by their accounts, a poor liar.”

Eleven looked up at the knight in shock.

...Veronica and Erik—the culprits were definitely those two. And maybe Jade. She and Hendrik got along rather well, after all. He could definitely see his “sister” saying something like that.

Eleven tried his best not to sigh in frustration.

“I’m just tired is all,” he said, and even though that wasn’t the actual reason for his behavior, it also wasn’t a lie. “I’m afraid I haven’t been sleeping well lately...”

“I suppose that is to be expected, given everything that has happened in such a short time. However, it would not do for you to collapse from exhaustion. Perhaps instead of making camp tonight, we should find an inn to stay at. You might be able to sleep more soundly in a proper bed.”

Eleven could feel himself starting to smile. It was a kind thought, and Hendrik’s concern over his health was touching, but at the same time he had made it his long-term goal to avoid all inns for as long as he possibly could.

Because unfortunately for him, sharing a room with someone was not conducive to hiding two of his most easily discoverable secrets. Asking for his own room was also out of the question, because it would just cause unnecessary suspicion (not to mention be a waste of their money). He couldn’t alter his behavior too much. He had already been pushing it lately, had earned himself several strange or evaluating looks from his friends. He needed to be more careful.

“I appreciate your concern, Hendrik,” he said, “but I’m...alright, really.”

He got the feeling that Hendrik knew “alright” was just another way of saying “fine,” and that he wasn’t going to believe that word either.

“Besides,” Eleven continued, “I was kind of planning on being on the Salty Stallion tonight.”

“Oh? You have somewhere you wish to go that requires the use of a ship?”

He looked up at Hendrik, at the curious look on his face, and felt the small smile on his own grow a bit wider.

Despite everything that had happened in that dark future, not all of his memories were sad or tainted by tragedy. He has several fond ones, many of which included the knight by his side. One particularly humorous memory involved Hendrik trying to hold his breath while they stood on the bottom of the ocean. The look on his face upon finding out that he could breathe underwater had been priceless.

He kind of wanted to see it again.

“It’s a secret.”

He bit back a laugh at the confused look on the man’s face, but before Hendrik could say anything, the two of them were interrupted.

“Hey, El!”

Eleven looked over to the rest of his party, his eyes landing on Erik, and the thief immediately gestured with his head towards the dais where Serena, Veronica, and the Timekeeper (Serenica, she was Serenica now) were standing.

There was light gathering around them, swirling into the air, as the twins played a beautiful, ancient sounding melody.

His partner gave him a wry grin, and with just a touch of amusement, he said, “I think they’re going to need you.”

...Oh.

Right. Luminary.

No matter how much he might want to, he couldn’t just stand passively by and avoid the things he didn’t want to face.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he began to step forward. Hendrik’s hand slipped from his shoulder, and he immediately missed that small connection, that simple grounding act, as once again it felt like he was moving forward alone as he walked towards the dais.

With a single motion, Eleven took the Sword of Light in hand and gripped it tightly.

He didn’t look at the Timekeeper.

He didn’t look at the Sphere.

Instead, he kept his eyes on Veronica.

She was the only thing that was different, the only thing that hadn’t been here before. He just needed to focus on that.

Things were different this time.

He wouldn’t fail this time.

He wouldn’t need to shatter time to correct another mistake.

With a shaky breath, Eleven stepped onto the dais.

And prayed that this time around, he would be enough.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: An Unexpected Conversation

Eleven had a list.

He started writing it during their long ship ride back to Heliodor after leaving the World Tree. It was a list of places he wanted to check on, people he wanted to save, and things he wanted to change—and in just the past few days, it had grown by several lines.

He got the feeling it would grow by many more before they were done traveling.

After finishing up at the tower, they had all returned to Heliodor to report back to the king. Eleven hadn’t wanted to leave him waiting for too long, but he had also wanted to have something more concrete to tell him, to have a plan put together for how to deal with Calasmos.

It wasn’t really much of a plan, all things considered. In the end, they simply needed to get stronger. If they were to attempt to fight the Dark One now, they would probably all be killed. Cetacea had warned them and had offered some advice, but there were a few things that Eleven wanted to do before taking on whatever trials were awaiting them beneath Zwaardsrust. It certainly wouldn’t do to jump into those unprepared either.

His original plan after leaving the tower had been to talk to Carnelian, maybe pick up some supplies while in Heliodor, drop into Cobblestone to see how things were going and to ask if there was anything he could do to help, and then head out to sea towards Nautica.

He really should’ve known by now that the world didn’t much care for his plans.

Upon leaving the throne room after giving Jade and her father a moment to talk, they had heard one of the maids screaming about a dark shadow in the courtyard. Naturally, as the Luminary, he couldn’t simply ignore something like that, and so the eight of them had made their way outside where, sure enough, there had been a shadow standing next to the tree, and the Yggdrasil root had been glowing.

What followed was a series of events where Eleven had done his absolute best not to have a heart attack.

Because Yggdrasil had decided to show him—to show all of them—pieces of the future that he had undone, of the ravaged world he had left behind (his assumption had been right then, that the World Tree remembered, that She was an entity that existed outside the confines of time). Needless to say, there had been a great deal of confusion amongst his companions, and while they had thankfully taken his silence over the matter as him just trying to stay levelheaded, he got the feeling that none of them would be forgetting what they had seen anytime soon.

Those glimpses of a dark, desolate future, where Heliodor had been destroyed and Jasper had become a monster.

Why could nothing ever just be easy for him?

At least in the end, however, some good did end up coming from it, because it was ultimately those fragments of memories, those pieces of a time that would never again pass, that had given Hendrik the words he had needed—the words to save his oldest friend and brother-in-arms, to finally purge the hatred from his heart.

In truth, Eleven had wanted to save Jasper. He had wanted to find some way to strip the darkness from him, to bring him back, but Mordegon had taken that from him, had struck the knight down before any of them could do a single thing to stop him. The devastation on Hendrik’s face in that moment had hurt, and he had been afraid that unlike in the future, there would be no closure for the Hero of Heliodor, that he wouldn’t have the chance to say what was needed to the man who had once been his friend.

Thankfully that hadn’t been the case, and he was glad to see that this time around, Jasper had been able to find some actual peace. Hendrik had offered him redemption, and strangely enough, despite all the man had done to them throughout the course of their journey, it was surprisingly easy to forgive him for it. There was no point in holding grudges, after all—just like Sylvando had said, his Grandad really knew what he was talking about.

Eleven could successfully cross “Hendrik and Jasper” off his list, with an outcome that had been far better than anything he could’ve achieved on his own, and while their trip to the castle had definitely taken longer than he had planned, there had still been enough time left in the day to briefly check in on Cobblestone and then head out to sea.

Or at least there would’ve been, if not for the fact that upon leaving said castle, they had seen Opal standing in front of Derk’s shop with her head in her hands, obviously crying if the shaking of her shoulders had been anything to go by. He and Erik had rushed over to find out what was wrong, only to be told that Derk had been abducted by a monster, and that the creature had flown off in the direction of “that rocky spire near Cobblestone,” up in the mountains.

The Tor, then.

Before Erik could even ask, Eleven had been casting Zoom.

Thankfully they had made it in time, but after climbing the Tor, rescuing Derk, and then escorting him back down, most of their daylight had been spent. It would’ve been pointless, not to mention dangerous given how vicious most of the monsters had become, to set sail so late in the day (no matter how much he had still kind of wanted to), and so with very little debate, they had decided to stay in the village instead. They could pitch their tents by the river, just like everyone else whose houses were too damaged to use. There was plenty of room in the fields; he was certain that no one would mind.

Cobblestone was his home, after all. No matter what, he would always be welcome.

Especially when it came to his mother. Upon telling her that they would be staying the night, she had become overjoyed and had immediately started to gather the ingredients to make Eleven’s favorite stew, enough for him and all of his friends. Derk and Gemma had been invited too, naturally, and with two quick casts of Zoom, Opal had been able to join them as well.

He had been worried at first that it would be too much—it took a lot of food to feed twelve people—but his mother had been quick to tell him that it was fine, that she didn’t mind cooking for them, and that more people simply meant a livelier, more cheerful dinner table.

She hadn’t been wrong (his mother really was the best), and upon sitting down together for a meal, surrounded by all of the people he loved, Eleven had found himself being reminded all over again of exactly why he was doing this, why he needed to travel across Erdrea once more and right as many wrongs as he could.

He wanted a million more moments like this, just like this, filled with laughter and bright smiles and warmth.

It wasn’t going to be easy.

Nothing about it was going to be easy. The odds were definitely stacked against him, but...

But it was still a pleasant thought.

Somehow, he would make it happen, even if he might not be around to see it.

One way or another, no matter the cost, he would find a way.

“So, you’re going to help them rebuild, right?”

Eleven looked up at the question, momentarily pausing in his dish washing (he had volunteered to take care of the dishes while his companions took some time to relax and wander around the village). He was pretty sure he had told Erik that he didn’t need any help and that the thief was free to spend some time with his old friend, and yet there he was, walking towards him with the clear intention of helping.

“I told you I could take care of this myself,” he said as his partner knelt down next to him. “Don’t you want to catch up with Derk?”

“I will later,” Erik said. “He’s busy talking to the mayor right now about some supplies they’ll need for the village. He wants to help get Cobblestone back on its feet.”

A smile began to cross Eleven’s face. He had been planning on asking Derk if he wouldn’t mind helping—he was an excellent salesman who knew a lot of people—but the man had gone ahead and decided to lend a hand himself.

“I’ll have to remember to thank him later.”

“You plan on helping too, right? I heard you talking to Gemma about it earlier.”

“Yeah. She gave me a list of what they still need and asked if I could find some volunteers for her. We’ve met a lot of people while traveling, and I have several in mind who I think could help, but tracking them all down and then convincing them to come out here is probably easier said than done...”

“I’m sure you can manage it, and we’ll all pitch in too. It’s not like you have to do it alone.”

“Thanks, Erik.”

With a smile, the thief grabbed a bowl and began washing it, lapsing into a comfortable silence, but as per usual with the two of them, it didn’t last long. Something that he had learned pretty early on in their partnership was that Erik wasn’t exactly a fan of silence, meaning that he had a tendency to fill it with whatever crossed his mind. The thief had pulled him into all sorts of odd conversations while they’d been traveling through the region together, both in an effort to get to know him better and to keep him from worrying.

Somehow, he had managed to drag Eleven away from his grief, away from Heliodor, and away from the branding of “Darkspawn.” Finding him really had been a blessing.

He was pretty sure he would’ve been lost otherwise.

“By the way,” Erik began, drawing his attention, “you seriously weren’t kidding about your mother’s stew. It’s way better than the recipe I have. Do you think she’d show me how to make it?”

The Luminary couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. He had told all of them about his mother’s stew more than once, and it was good to know that they’d enjoyed it just as much as he always did.

“I’m sure she would,” he said. “I was never that interested in learning how to cook when I was growing up, so I bet it would make her happy.”

His mother loved cooking and showing people how to cook; she had always looked pleased anytime one of the villagers would ask her for advice on spices and seasoning. More than once she had lamented his disinterest in learning, and he had too in the end, after being thrown out into the world on his own. He had learned a few things while traveling, thanks to his companions, but he didn’t know enough to make a decent meal. Edible maybe, but not decent. That was why most of the cooking was left up to Erik and Jade whenever they were on the road.

“Maybe I’ll ask her later then. If it doesn’t require too much, I might be able to make it someday while we’re traveling.”

He grinned brightly at his friend.

“I’d like that.” It would be nice to have just that little bit of home while he was away. After all, there had been a time where he’d been afraid that he would never be able to go “home” again, never see his mother again.

Never talk to Gemma or play with Sandy or go fishing at Cobblestone Falls or—

“I wanted to ask you something.”

Snapping out of his slowly spiraling thoughts, he turned to look at Erik.

“What is it?” he asked, doing his best to keep his words even (it felt like he had been more prone to panicking lately).

“Once this is over and the world is safe, do you plan on coming back here and living in Cobblestone?”

He just looked at his friend curiously. It wasn’t necessarily an odd question; Eleven had never really spoken to any of them about his plans for the future (and the ones he had come up with had been thoroughly ruined by Calasmos), so it made sense that Erik would be curious. However, he had kind of assumed that returning to his hometown would be obvious. It was his home, after all. Where else would he go?

“Um, I guess?” he replied a bit hesitantly, just a little confused by the question. “Why do you ask?”

Erik shot him a look from the corner of his eye before going back to his cleaning. His words, when he spoke, were careful and measured.

“Well, I know that Rab wants to rebuild Dundrasil,” he began, “and you’re technically the prince of Dundrasil. I wasn’t sure if you were thinking about maybe, I don’t know, going back and actually being a prince?”

...What?

Being a...oh.

Oh.

Right, he was a...

He was a prince.

He was technically a prince.

Honestly, sometimes Eleven forgot.

Sometimes he just forgot that he was royalty, mostly because no one had ever really treated him like an actual prince. His friends certainly didn’t care about his royal lineage, that was for sure, and even though the pendant he wore around his neck bore the crest of the Drasilian royal family, whenever he looked at it, it didn’t remind him of his kingdom. It was a memento of his parents, the people who had given their lives to save his, who had loved him wholeheartedly and unconditionally and had lost everything just because he had been born the Luminary.

Maybe he had come into this world as a prince, but he wasn’t a prince. He was just Eleven, a sixteen-year-old boy who had lived a simple life in a little village out in the country.

“I wouldn’t know the first thing about being a prince...”

He immediately knew that those words had come out more melancholic than he’d intended, because Erik quickly switched into the role of “supportive partner” upon hearing them, which was what he did every time Eleven expressed uncertainty over something.

“You have plenty of people around who would help you. Jade said she’s not entirely sure how to behave like a princess anymore either, so the two of you could learn together.”

He knew that Erik was just trying to help, but that didn’t really make him feel any better, plus his friend had kind of misunderstood his earlier tone.

It wasn’t that Eleven was worried about not being able to be a prince.

“I’m not...I don’t...”

He simply didn’t want to be one, but he didn’t know how to explain that in a way that wouldn’t come off as self-centered or petty.

He didn’t realize that he was gripping the bowl in his hands so tightly that his knuckles were turning white until another suddenly reached over and gentled his grip.

“El.”

He looked over at his friend and took a deep breath (it felt like he had been more prone to doing that lately too).

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

He shook his head and sighed.

“You’ll think I’m being selfish...”

“I won’t.” The thief fixed him with a firm gaze, the hand around his tightening just a bit.

There was something both gentle and absolute in those two words, both an affirmation and an admonishment.

“You spend so much time worrying about everyone else,” Erik continued. “I wish you’d think a little more about what’s best for you for a change.”

His breath caught, the air getting stuck in his throat. Those words were eerily familiar, were similar to something he had been told before, in another place and time.

He had been running himself ragged, had been trying to help as many people as he could, the ones who were still left, because so many had lost their lives, and it was all his fault, and before he had even realized what was happening, he had collapsed.

And when he awoke, Erik had been sitting by his bedside.

“You know something, El? You should stop worrying about other people just for once and think about what’s best for you.”

As if sensing the sudden turn in his thoughts, the hand gripping his gave another soft squeeze before carefully letting go.

“It’s not wrong to want something for yourself, you know.”

He knew that. 

Deep down he already knew that, but at the same time...

At the same time, every time he had wanted something, every time he had wished for something, the world had chosen to spite him instead. Twice now he had saved Erdrea only for something else to happen. Thinking about the future, making plans, wanting something... It felt a little like tempting fate, which was why he had stopped bothering to put too much effort into it.

Once Calasmos was gone, if he survived the final battle, then he could worry about the future.

Still though, maybe just this once it would be alright to put something out there, to give voice to some of his thoughts. He trusted Erik, perhaps more so than anyone, and he believed him when he said that he wouldn’t think that Eleven was just being selfish.

He took a deep breath to center himself before putting his thoughts into words.

“I don’t want to be a prince,” he said. “Or a king, for that matter. I don’t want to live the rest of my life with people expecting things from me. Maybe I’d feel differently if I’d grown up like that, but...I just...”

It was hard to find the right words, harder still to say them, because a part of him still felt like he was just being self-centered and petty.

“I know I’m only sixteen, but it feels like so much of my life has already been decided for me, and...I just want to be able to live the way I want, for however long I can once this is over.”

There was always the chance that the world would need him again, that beating Calasmos wouldn’t be an absolute end to the darkness. Maybe he would never be able to stop being the Luminary...

He heaved a deep sigh, set the bowl in his hands down, picked up another, and continued his cleaning.

“I suppose there’s not really much point in thinking too hard about the future right now anyway.”

Erik, who had kept up a steady flow of washing dishes while Eleven had been talking, suddenly stopped.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, we still have to beat Calasmos.” He set down one clean dish and picked up another, getting lost in the familiar, repetitive chore.

He wasn’t sure where his next thought came from; he certainly hadn’t meant to put it into words—but for some reason, they fell from his mouth regardless, before he could even think of stopping them.

“If I die during the battle, then anything I want wouldn’t really matter anymore, right?”

There was a loud clatter next to him, the sound of dishes being dropped, and before he could even react, two hands fell on his shoulders and forcefully turned him until he was facing his very worried and borderline angry best friend. It wasn’t that dissimilar to the look Erik had given him back in Heliodor the last time he had made the thief angry.

Those sharp blue eyes raked over his face, searching for something in his expression, and then suddenly narrowed in determination.

“You’re not going to die.”

It was a statement, not a demand—pure and simple belief in something that was indisputable, leaving no room for doubt.

“You don’t know that.”

...Sometimes he wondered if there was a part of him that simply enjoyed being contrary, that liked pushing other people’s buttons just to see how they would react. He had caused his village no end of grief when he was younger, with actions that weren’t so dissimilar.

Apparently though, Erik wasn’t having it.

“I do, because we won’t let you. We’re all going to make it out of this, and then we’ll all come back to Cobblestone and help you rebuild, alright?”

There was a finality to that statement, as if the matter brooked no further argument, as if Erik would accept no other outcome save this. He didn’t know what to make of it, didn’t really know how he should feel, but the odd mood he had fallen into seemed to dissipate when faced with his friend’s unwavering resolve.

“I...a-alright.”

It was kind of hard to argue with that, after all.

With a satisfied nod, the thief released him, turned back towards the stream, and began to casually wash another bowl as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened.

Eleven simply stared at him for a moment before slowly reaching for the stack of utensils. There wasn’t too much left to wash, which was good because he got the feeling that this time around, Erik wouldn’t be breaking the silence.

Once again, the world proved him wrong.

“So, you didn’t actually answer my question.”

“...Which question?” He had lost track of what they had been talking about.

“Do you plan on staying in Cobblestone once this is over?”

Eleven wracked his brain, went back over everything that he had said, and realized that Erik was kind of right. In all of his rambling, he never fully answered the initial question.

“Yes,” he said. “I plan to live in Cobblestone. I’d still like to go traveling some more, but this will always be my home.”

The thief gave a thoughtful hum, which immediately drew Eleven’s attention. He knew that sound. Erik was very good at acting unconcerned and nonchalant, mostly when he was fishing for information. His relaxed posture, as strange as it sounded, was just a little bit forced.

There was something he wanted to know, and so the Luminary remained silent and waited for his friend to speak.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“Do you know if they plan on rebuilding the village exactly the way it was, or will they be adding onto it?”

“I...” That was kind of a strange question, but okay, he would play along. “I guess there might be people who would like to move here. I’m sure the people that Gemma asked me to find will need places to live if they decide to stay after the village is fixed, so I imagine there’ll be a few new houses built.”

Another thoughtful hum.

“Why do you ask?”

“No reason. I was just curious.”

He was pretty sure that wasn’t true.

“Are you sure there wasn’t a reason?”

His friend shot him a look, half annoyed and half something else, something indecisive and hesitant. The thief reached up and ran a hand through his hair before rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Erik wasn’t usually nervous, but the deep breath he took was definitely meant to settle his nerves (Eleven would know, as he was more than familiar with that method by now after everything that had happened).

“...Actually,” he began slowly, “I kind of had a favor I wanted to ask you, but I think I’ll wait for now. I have...a few things I need to take care of first.”

It was easy enough for him to guess what some of those things were, but as far as a favor went, he was in the dark. He had no idea what kind of favor Erik could possibly need from him, aside from the obvious one, but he got the feeling that he wasn’t talking about Mia.

What else could he possibly want from Eleven?

“Okay,” he said, because he knew that trying to push for an answer would probably get him nowhere. “You can ask me whenever you’re ready. If it’s within my power, I’ll do it.”

The smile that earned him was genuine, but he couldn’t help but feel like there was something just a touch sad about it.

“Thanks, El.”

And that was the end of it. He watched as Erik took all of the clean bowls and stacked them together, picking them up as he got to his feet.

“I’ll take these back for you,” he said. “I think Derk should be done talking to the mayor by now. I’ll check in with the others too and find a place to pitch our tents.”

Ah, right, their tents. He had forgotten about their sleeping arrangements.

“Um, actually, Erik,” he began, stopping the thief before he could get too far from the stream. “I was...planning on staying with my mum tonight. If that’s alright.”

Something softened in his friend’s expression, his mouth curving upwards into a knowing smile.

“Of course it is. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

Eleven watched as his partner crested the hill and eventually disappeared from sight, before giving his attention back to the water and the utensils he still needed to wash. He kind of wished that he could stretch the chore out for another few hours yet—even just one would be fine—but as much as he wanted to, he knew that someone would probably come looking for him if he didn’t go back soon (it was still tempting though). 

He just...needed some time to think. He needed some time alone, to himself, so that he could figure out what he should do. He had said too much to Erik. He had revealed things to him that he had never intended to. He had to be more careful going forward, had to keep his thoughts in check. The last thing he wanted was to worry his friends, to cast doubt on his ability to do this: to stop Calasmos and save the world. They needed him to be stronger than he was.

He couldn’t fail them this time.

With a promise to himself that he would be in a more optimistic mood in the morning, Eleven gathered up his now clean dinnerware and began walking up the hill that would lead him home.

His mother was waiting for him by the doorway with a warm smile on her face.

Despite everything that had changed, it was nice to know that some things never would.

Erik made his way over to the rows of tents on the outskirts of the village, barely paying attention to his surroundings as he walked. His head was just too full right now, too many thoughts floating around, and try as he might, he just couldn’t seem to organize them.

His conversation with Eleven had not gone the way he had intended.

To be fair though, it’s not like he had really had much of a plan. For the most part, he had just wanted to get some information out of him, about what he was going to do after everything was over. He had wanted to know whether or not he would be living in Cobblestone once it was rebuilt or if he had actually been considering returning to Dundrasil and becoming a king (now there was an image). Most of his answers had been expected.

What hadn’t been expected was the sudden morbid turn in his friend’s thoughts.

“If I die during the battle...”

Those words had sent a chill down his spine.

How could El speak about his own death so casually, so plainly, as if he were talking about something as mundane as the weather? For him to say it so bluntly like that... Just how many times had the thought crossed his mind? How many times had he considered the possibility of dying on his quest?

It was concerning to say the least.

Prior to Arboria, Eleven had never given voice to anything quite like that. Was he really that much more worried about Calasmos than he had been about Mordegon, or had those thoughts always been there and he’d just been better at hiding them?

Erik didn’t have an answer.

For now, all he could do was keep watching over him, keep protecting him, and maybe someday the Luminary would finally open up enough to tell him what was wrong.

Why, despite the fact that all of them were with him, he still looked so lonely.

“Erik!”

He stopped and turned towards the familiar voice, watching as his old partner in crime ran to catch up with him.

“Hey, Derk,” he greeted, and despite his effort to insert some levity into his voice, the words came out rather listless. His friend was quick to fix him with a concerned look.

“Is something wrong? You look kind of down.”

“It’s nothing.”

He crossed his arms, took a deep breath, and put on the best smile he could manage.

“So, you all done talking to the mayor?” he asked.

“Yep,” Derk replied with a grin. “It shouldn’t be too ‘ard to get the supplies they need to start rebuildin’. I even ‘ave a few suppliers in mind already. Should be able to get ‘em some really good deals too, I think.”

Erik’s smile became a little more genuine. Derk always had been one of the good ones, had always had a heart too big and too soft to ever truly cut it as a thief. He was glad that his friend had managed to find his calling in life, and that he was using those skills to help a bunch of people who were down on their luck and needed all the aid they could get.

“Thanks, Derk,” he said as earnestly as he could, because he truly did mean it. This was a cause that sat close to his heart. “This really means a lot, and I’m sure it’ll make El happy too.”

His old partner gave him a bright smile, clearly pleased by the praise, before he turned to look out over the village. Cobblestone was a quaint little hamlet nestled deep in the mountains, protected on all sides by towering peaks. It was a safe, quiet place to live, and most of the villagers had spent their entire lives there, tucked away in their peaceful little corner of Erdrea.

It truly was fortunate that this was where Eleven had ended up, hidden away from Mordegon and his servants, from all those who would’ve done him harm.

“I can’t believe there was an entire village out ‘ere and we never realized it,” said Derk. “I thought we scoped out everything in the area back when we were goin’ after the Orb.”

“I know what you mean,” he sighed, thinking back to that time. “It looked like just a bunch of craggy old mountains. If I’d known there was a village, we might’ve been able to lie low here instead of staying near Heliodor.” It would’ve been a good plan. The two of them probably could’ve helped out around the village in exchange for a temporary place to stay. He was no stranger to manual labor after all. Surely he could’ve made himself useful.

He and Eleven might’ve met under very different circumstances if that had been the case.

Honestly, despite all that he had gone through, he wouldn’t change a thing—getting caught, spending months in jail, being chased through the sewers by guards and then a dragon, none of it.

Leaping from that cliff in Heliodor with the Luminary at his side would always be one of his favorite memories.

“I’m glad I’ll be able to ‘elp ‘em,” Derk said as he watched the villagers milling about by the tents. “Everyone ‘ere’s really nice. Amber made me an’ Opal feel right at ‘ome when we all ate dinner together. It felt like the lot of us were one big family.”

He turned to Erik, looking quite pleased and still grinning rather brightly.

“I think you’ll fit in just fine ‘ere.”

...It wasn’t often that he could be caught so off guard, not just once but twice in one day.

He must’ve misheard that.

Surely he misheard that.

Erik froze, looking down at his friend in slowly mounting horror.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, the words careful but pointed.

Derk’s expression changed from pleased to confused, as if he couldn’t understand what Erik was saying, and that wasn’t even remotely fair. He had no right to be looking at him like that after the words that had just come out of his mouth.

He had to have misheard him. There was no way he could possibly be talking about—

“Won’t you be livin’ ‘ere once it’s rebuilt? With Eleven?”

...He hadn’t misheard him.

He could feel heat starting to spread across his face, not to mention something like indignation growing in his chest as he looked down at his friend in shock.

“Where did you get an idea like that?!” he asked, failing to keep his voice down in his bewilderment. Thankfully they were off on their own, too far away for any curious villagers to listen in.

Derk didn’t seem too fazed by Erik’s irritation (which was nothing new, really) and simply continued to blink up at him in confusion. It was like he didn’t understand why the thief would be questioning his logic, as if Erik was the one who didn’t get it, and he might’ve entertained the idea of punching him if the expression on the man’s face wasn’t so painfully sincere.

His old partner wasn’t trying to make fun of him. He really was genuinely confused.

Derk tilted his head to the side and reached up to rub the back of his neck.

“Well, I mean...” he began, hesitating for just a moment. “You like him, don’t you?”

Those words felt like a slap to the face.

“I...w-what?”

How could...?

How could Derk possibly know that?

How could he know that? They had barely seen each other in months! All the man had to go on was that one moment back at his shop where Erik had almost punched him, the banquet in Heliodor just a week ago, and the few moments they had spent together today.

So how could...?

For the love of—was he really that obvious?

“Why would you...how do you...?” He didn’t bother trying to deny it. It was true, after all.

Derk offered him a smile, one that was kind and understanding as opposed to amused at his expense.

“Because I know you,” he said matter-of-factly, as if it were as simple as that. “You smile more around ‘im. Durin’ our thievin’ days, you didn’t smile even ‘alf as much as you do now, and it’s never forced or anything. You just...”

He rubbed the back of his neck again sheepishly, his last few words carrying with them a very pleased kind of warmth.

“You look ‘appy, Erik.”

...Happy, huh?

The thief looked off to the side, avoiding the earnest stare being directed at him. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, still feeling rather embarrassed about the whole thing, but...well...

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t just the slightest bit touched by those words.

“I suppose I am.”

Derk grinned widely up at him.

“He doesn’t know though.”

His friend’s grin dimmed just a little.

“What do you mean?”

Erik shot him a look, because this time it felt like he was being purposely obtuse.

“I mean that he doesn’t know about... I haven’t told him that I...” Dammit, but this was embarrassing. Yet another unexpected conversation that he hadn’t planned on ever having, least of all with Derk.

Thankfully his friend spared him from having to finish.

“Why not?”

“There’s just...too much going on right now. He needs to focus on being the Luminary.”

That was only partially true. What it really came down to was that Erik didn’t want to admit to his old partner, who still sort of looked up to him, that he was a coward.

He was a coward who was too afraid to take a risk because it might ruin what he already had.

“...I think ‘e likes you too, you know.”

At this point it felt like Derk was just asking to be punched.

Erik dropped his head into his hands with an annoyed groan.

“Derk...”

“I’m just sayin’, maybe you shouldn’t wait too long!” the man told him, raising his hands in surrender. “What if something were to happen? You don’t want to regret not sayin’ anything, right?”

Erik swallowed thickly as his heart twisted painfully in his chest.

If something were to happen...

“If I die...”

...If something were to happen to El, would he regret not telling him? Would he regret not having taken the chance?

There was a part of him that rebelled at the idea of anything happening to their Luminary, because it was his job (it was all of their jobs, really) to protect him, to keep him safe, and if something were to happen, it would mean that he had failed.

He couldn’t deal with that, but at the same time he knew it was a possibility. Eleven might be the Luminary, but he was also human, and if he were to go up against something significantly stronger than him, he would likely be killed. There couldn’t always be divine intervention to save the day. If they tempted fate too much, eventually there would be consequences.

It was entirely possible that the fight with Calasmos would take everything they had.

If something were to happen...could Erik live without ever having told him?

He knew the answer.

“...I’ll consider it.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: A Well-Planned Detour

Retrieve Pearl of Wisdom.

That was the newest entry on his list.

He got the unfortunate feeling that it was going to be on there for a while yet. Queen Marina had been kind enough to warn him that the monster responsible for stealing the pearl was powerful, and that as much as she wished for it to be returned, it wouldn’t do for him to get himself and his friends killed in the process. Determination alone wasn’t going to be enough to save them if they got in over their heads, and as their leader, it was Eleven’s responsibility to make sure that never happened.

He couldn’t just charge into things with the best of intentions and expect to come out okay anymore. The world wasn’t as kind as it used to be.

Everyone needed to be a lot more careful these days.

Thanks to the Dark One’s influence, many of the monsters that roamed across Erdrea had become stronger, more malicious, and several quite a bit bolder too. Traveling between towns had become increasingly dangerous, so most people were stuck wherever they were unless they wanted to risk their lives. That was simply the way of it.

...And yet for some reason, that didn’t seem to stop people from flocking to the Warrior’s Rest Inn just to experience the strange dream that everyone who stayed there kept having. Eleven had been expecting the place to be abandoned, what with all the monsters wandering the fields just outside the fence, but it seemed that some people were still crazy enough to brave the roads, regardless of the danger.

Thankfully the inn had still had enough rooms open for the eight of them.

Eleven set his list aside before leaning forward and sprawling across the small wooden desk, heaving a deep sigh. He was pretty sure that traveling hadn’t been this exhausting the first time around, but now it seemed that every day was packed full of stuff that needed to be done. Part of that was his fault, and it unfortunately wasn’t going to be getting better any time soon. There were several things he wanted to do, things he wanted to fix, and even things he needed to fix again because he had technically undone them.

Nautica’s problem was a new one though. He definitely hadn’t had to track down the Pearl of Wisdom last time (he might’ve preferred that though, given what had actually happened).

When setting out for another trek across Erdrea, Eleven had wanted to make Nautica one of the first places he revisited, for several reasons. In the future, it was the mermaids who had found him after Yggdrasil fell. He had fallen into the ocean, and they had saved his life. The people of Nautica had watched over him while he slept and healed—and he had been asleep for months, apparently. Queen Marina had even turned him into a fish in order to hide him, to keep Mordegon’s spies from being able to find him, and when Alizarin had been at her doorstep, she had prioritized his safety over everything else.

They had been willing to die for him, and for a long time, he had believed that they did.

Thank goodness that hadn’t been the case.

And so with all that in mind, Eleven had wanted to travel to Nautica first to make sure that it was safe, that nothing had happened, and to maybe find a way to repay their kindness, even if it was for a favor that none of them could remember. Certainly there was nothing wrong with that.

(And for the record, Hendrik’s reaction to breathing underwater had been just as amusing the second time around).

Getting the Pearl of Wisdom back was the least he could do after everything the queen had done for him. He just needed to get stronger first, which was one of the reasons he had brought everyone to Zwaardsrust. If all went according to plan, he’d be able to cross several more things off his list. The one he was focusing on right now, that he had circled several times in the last few minutes, simply said “Father.”

His father was still trapped beneath the ruins of Dundrasil, still in the clutches of a monster. The fact that everyone who stayed at the Warrior’s Rest Inn was having the same dream again was proof of that.

Eleven had made it his goal to avoid staying at inns for the foreseeable future, but in this case he had to make an exception. After all, he couldn’t really drag everyone to Dundrasil and then down into the secret passage that he technically shouldn’t know about, only to find the soul of his father being feasted on by the Gloomnivore.

They would surely ask questions and be suspicious and wonder how he could’ve known that something was there, and he was pretty sure that “I’m the Luminary” wouldn’t cut it as an explanation. That was only going to work so many times. He needed to save it for the things he truly couldn’t explain.

However, if they all stayed at the inn and had the same dream, then everything would probably play out similarly to how it had in the future, meaning that they’d all be willing to make the trip to Dundrasil to investigate and Eleven wouldn’t have to come up with an excuse.

This would work. It had to. He didn’t really have a backup plan, after all.

Now all he needed to do to guarantee that every part of his plan went smoothly was make sure that Erik either wasn’t in the room when he got ready for bed or was already sound asleep, because under no circumstances could he change clothes while the thief was present (while any of his friends were present, for that matter).

He was pretty sure he could manage that.

“Hey, El.”

Startled, he looked over at the entrance to his room, only to find the aforementioned thief standing in the doorway.

...Now see, that, right there, was the problem with sharing a room with Erik. He often moved silently and therefore was way too good at sneaking up on Eleven even when he wasn’t trying to. Back when they first met, the Luminary had been really impressed by that ability, and to be fair, he was still pretty impressed by it overall, but for someone who was carrying an entire world’s worth of secrets, it wasn’t exactly good for his heart.

Erik gave him an amused grin before gesturing over his shoulder.

“Food’s almost ready. Come on.”

“Thanks. I’ll be down in a second.”

The thief simply nodded before stepping out into the hallway.

With a small sigh, Eleven got to his feet, pushed in his chair, and grabbed his list. It wouldn’t do for anyone else to accidently see it, given that half of the things on it would raise a significant amount of unwanted questions. He quickly folded it up and shoved it in his bag before heading for the door and joining Erik in the hall.

“What were you doing anyway?” the thief asked. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Sorry,” he replied with a small smile. “I was just writing some stuff down.”

“Your to-do list? I know you made one for Cobblestone.”

Technically he wasn’t wrong.

“Something like that.”

“Well, in the morning we can head for Octagonia. I know that was one of the stops. Plus I think we’re all kind of excited to see this casino they supposedly built. Wonder what made the mayor decide to go with gambling instead of the MMA tournament.”

Eleven was rather curious about that too. In the future, the casino had been created by Booga, and the people of Octagonia had simply decided to keep all of it since getting rid of it would’ve been a waste. However, that didn’t happen this time around, and so he was interested to find out what made them decide on such a drastic change to their battle-driven city.

A part of him wondered if the memories had bled through. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Maybe we’ll have to ask him when we get there,” Eleven said. “It is a pretty strange decision.”

“Well, I’m game for trying it out at least. We didn’t get to spend too much time at the one in Puerto Valor. We can hit the casino while we try to recruit some people to come to Cobblestone. It shouldn’t be too hard to find volunteers. They kind of owe us a favor, after all.”

That was true. Eleven didn’t particularly like the idea of calling in favors (it’s not like he had done any of the things he’d done to put people in debt to him), but his village needed help and he had promised Gemma, so if that’s what it came down to, then so be it.

He would do whatever he had to in order to fix the things that were broken.

Especially since some of them were things that he had been responsible for breaking.

“You’re frowning again...”

“Sorry.”

“Seriously, El. I know things are kind of bad, but you shouldn’t worry about it so much. We’ll get through this and save Erdrea, so try not to look so down, alright?”

If only it were that simple.

“...I’ll try.” That was the most he could offer, really.

Before Erik could say anything else or argue the point further, Eleven moved ahead of him and descended the stairs, catching sight of the rest of their party sitting at one of the few long tables.

With a smile on his face, he took a seat next to Jade and did his best to join in on the conversation they were having about Octagonia while at the same time silently apologizing to them all for having ulterior motives for coming here. If Eleven had his way, then they would be heading to Dundrasil in the morning so that he could finally put a few things to rest.

He had been able to save his father last time, had been able to use his powers to force the Gloomnivore out of his soul.

Hopefully that would be enough this time too.

All he could do was pray that would be the case and prepare himself to once again live through the night that Dundrasil was destroyed.

As long as there were no surprises, he was pretty sure he could handle it.

The rain falling from the sky felt thematically appropriate.

That didn’t mean he had to like it though. All it was doing was making the trek up to Dundrasil that much more uncomfortable for him.

For probably the tenth time that morning as they trudged through the mud, Eleven stretched his arms and rotated his head and tried whatever he could think of to work the kink out of his back and alleviate the stiffness in his neck.

“It’s your own fault, you know,” he heard Erik say from behind him. “I told you to go to bed.”

The Luminary shot him a look over his shoulder (he was aiming for a glare, but if the amused smirk on his friend’s face was anything to go by, he probably fell painfully short). Unfortunately, he didn’t have a rebuttal, because it’s not like Erik was wrong. His current discomfort was one hundred percent his own fault.

He definitely wouldn’t be falling asleep while sitting at a desk again any time soon, though to be fair, it’s not like he had meant to. He’d been writing down a list of supplies they were going to need (as well as secretly working on his own list too) while waiting for Erik to fall asleep. The thief had told him several times to just go to bed, but he had refused.

He could remember leaning over the desk and laying his head on his arms with the intention that he’d just rest his eyes for a moment, and then the next thing he knew he was being forcefully shaken awake and lectured about staying up too late, followed by several questions about the strange dream that everyone had had.

On the bright side, all of his plans had actually worked out for a change. His secret was still safe, both Rab and Jade had recognized the Drasilian armor from the dream, and everyone had been in agreement that they should stop by Dundrasil to find out what was going on. Aside from the poor weather and the pain in his back, things couldn’t have gone better.

Hopefully that good luck would stick with him. He needed as much of it as he could get.

For the most part, their trek up towards the former kingdom went by without incident. They were able to avoid the monsters roaming the area, and the rain thankfully began to taper off the closer they got, becoming nothing more than a light drizzle. However, when they stepped through the archway and into the ruined city itself, all of them came to a dead stop, and Eleven was pretty sure it was because of the sudden chill in the air, the kind that could easily run down a person’s spine.

Next to him, he saw Serena visibly shudder as she clasped her hands together close to her chest.

“Oh dear...” she said softly. “There’s some oppressive sense of evil in the air. I didn’t feel this at all the last time we were here.”

The healer turned towards him, eyes pleading.

“We need to be careful.”

He nodded in agreement, and even though he knew what would be awaiting them in the depths, he couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about it. He tried to remind himself that Serena hadn’t been with them the last time. Surely she would’ve felt something then too, so clearly there was no reason for him to worry. Everything would be fine. He had taken care of the Gloomnivore then, and he could certainly do it again now. He was stronger this time, after all. They all were.

He was still going to be careful though.

And so with that foreboding warning in the back of their minds, the eight of them made their way across the ruins, down the well, through the short underground tunnel, and up to the castle.

The path was familiar, one that he had walked before, but it was as they were approaching the secret passage buried in stone that the first difference between the last time he had been here and now suddenly made itself known.

The rubble had already been cleared away by a scavenger.

A very scared scavenger, who had heard a voice coming from below while he was searching for treasure.

Before either Jade or Hendrik could get mad on his and Rab’s behalf and chew the man out for disturbing the ruins (or looting, because that was clearly what he’d been trying to do), Eleven decided to just ignore the transgression and proceeded to lead them all down the stairwell instead. They didn’t have time to worry about would-be thieves. They had a tortured soul to rescue.

The tunnels were pretty dark and rather dusty, which wasn’t at all surprising, and Eleven found himself batting more than one cobweb aside as they made their way through the passages. Behind him, he could hear several of his companions trying to stifle a cough or two.

“Man, it’s really dusty down here,” said Erik as he tried to wave away the cloud of filth that had been kicked up. “What exactly was this place used for anyway?”

“These tunnels were built as an escape route, in case the castle ever came under siege,” Rab explained. “They wouldnae be of much use to anyone now of course, but still... I got a funny feeling that we’re not alone down here.”

“You’re not the only one,” said Veronica as she created a small flame in her hands to help with the dark. “I think there might be something nasty waiting for us up ahead. We need to be careful.”

They were all in agreement on that, and as they made their way further in only to arrive at a large, spacious room, Eleven encountered the second difference this time around.

His father was there, fallen to one knee with his head bowed just like before, but unlike before, the Gloomnivore wasn’t hiding away in the darkness. Instead it was just standing there, as if it had been waiting for them to arrive, as if it had somehow known that they would be coming. Its two glowing green eyes narrowed as they approached, shining with a malicious glee as its large mouth curved into a toothy grin, and as it looked down at what was left of the last king of Dundrasil, Eleven’s father, it released a roaring laugh that echoed throughout the chamber.

“I’m starving!” it bellowed as the eight of them rushed forward. “Give me fresh misery to feed on before I waste away! Come—despair for me!”

“Hey!” shouted Veronica. “What are you doing!? Leave that poor man alone!”

The beast turned its massive head towards them, a pleased growl escaping its throat as its eyes trailed over the group standing before it.

“Fresh meat! Mmm... And delivered right to my door, no less. The Dark One is a benevolent master indeed. His return has filled me with a power greater than ever before, and he will bring about such suffering that I will feast for an eternity!”

The Dark One. Calasmos.

That would explain why the eyes looking back at him were different, were filled with a different kind of light, and why the beast before him gave off a more powerful feeling than the Gloomnivore he remembered. This battle wasn’t going to be the same as the last one, and Eleven began to worry that he might’ve dragged them all into a fight that they weren’t actually prepared for yet. He had planned on things being the same, but so much was already different, and as the beast turned towards the fallen king once more, the Luminary lurched forward just a bit, fearing for the man he had come here to save.

“Not that I haven’t been enjoying the meal at hand, of course,” the monster purred. “This one’s misery has sated my hunger for many a delicious year, ever since his kingdom fell...”

At those words, a sharp gasp came from next to him, and he turned to look down at his grandfather.

“Surely not...?” Rab began in disbelief. “Irwin!?”

Several more gasps echoed around him, and he could feel several sets of eyes suddenly turn to him, but Eleven simply didn’t have the energy to act surprised or shocked by the revelation. He had already known who the knight was, had led them here for this very reason, and while all of his plans leading up to this point had worked out, he was silently trying not to panic about what would come next.

“This one’s misery is just exquisite. His kingdom ruined, his family gone... Betrayed, dying alone...”

The Luminary’s hands curled into fists at those words, a surge of anger rushing through him—stronger than the last time but just as indignant. 

This thing had been torturing his father for sixteen years, drawing out his pain, refusing to let him rest after all that he had suffered...

Believing that the world had taken everything from him, that he had been unable to save the people he loved...

...No more.

He wasn’t going to tolerate this a moment longer. Even if the beast was stronger, even if Eleven was afraid of what might happen, in the end it didn’t matter. He had come here to save his father, and no matter what, he would succeed. Surely by working together, they could find a way to take this creature down.

“But even the most fabulous feasts must come to an end.”

That glowing green gaze swept over the eight of them once more, but as it came to rest on Eleven, it narrowed in glee.

“How does your despair compare, I wonder?”

Those words and those eyes felt as if they were piercing through him. He immediately began to reach for the Sword of Light.

And that was when the third and final difference made itself known.

The beast cloaked itself in shadow, obscuring its form until only two points of green remained, and then without warning, it leapt right towards him.

He raised his sword to try and block the strike, but when the Gloomnivore’s massive paw collided with him, what he was met with wasn’t a physical blow. Instead the darkness sank into him, surrounded him, filled his chest and his lungs until it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

(Just for a moment, he wondered if this was how his father had felt as he lay dying, cold and broken on the chamber floor).

He could hear someone calling his name, could hear several people calling his name, but he didn’t have the strength to respond, and in the end their voices faded as the world around him was washed away.

Everything simply vanished, and he was once again left alone in the dark.

“Eleven!”

The Sword of Light slipped through the Luminary’s fingers, falling to the floor with a deafening clatter.

He began to follow it not a moment later.

Erik and Jade were the closest (they usually were), and both of them rushed forward to catch him, carefully lowering the unconscious boy to the ground. However, instead of laying him down, they kept one arm each wrapped around his shoulders, bracing his upper body between them, because neither of them were willing to let go, to relinquish the precious life held carefully in their arms.

With a shuddering breath, the thief placed his free hand against Eleven’s chest.  

He had to make sure that his heart was still beating, that he was still breathing...

“Dammit,” he hissed as a feeling of sheer helplessness fell over him, because it would seem that making sure his partner was alive was all he could do. “What the hell just happened?”

He was met with not a single answer (not that he had been expecting one anyway). Everything had happened so fast. That monster, whatever it was, had leapt towards Eleven without any sort of warning, dispersing the darkness that made up its body and sinking into the Luminary before any of them could do a single thing about it.

They hadn’t been able to do anything. Not one damn thing.

(He had always hated feeling powerless).

“Rab, Serena!” Jade called, the two healers quickly moving forward as everyone began to crowd around their fallen leader, hands already glowing with magic. Erik wasn’t sure how much good it would do though, because it’s not like there were any physical injuries, and whatever that creature had done, it probably didn’t qualify as a curse.

Eleven wasn’t “hurt,” but he was deathly pale and completely unresponsive, and although his chest was rising and falling, his breath was shallow and the heartbeat under Erik’s hand was weak and erratic.

He shifted his arm just a bit around his friend’s shoulders, only for El’s head to loll to the side, falling across it listlessly.

He could feel himself starting to panic.

“It isn’t working,” Serena said dejectedly as she lowered her hands. “Whatever was done, it’s not something that can be healed.”

“It looked as if the beast merged with him,” said Hendrik, his voice thoughtful and steady even though his brow was pinched with worry. “Do you know of any spells that might force it out?”

“No,” Rab replied with a shake of his head, looking at his grandson with eyes that were heavy. “I’ve never seen something like this before. I cannae think of a single spell that might work.”

He caught sight of movement from the corner of his eye and watched as Sylvando crouched down next to Jade.

“Well, we have to do something,” the jester insisted. “Who knows what that awful thing is doing to him!”

That was true enough, and Erik was in complete agreement, but...

But what were they supposed to do?

“...If it had been one of us instead,” Jade began quietly, her eyes trailing to Eleven’s left hand, “he probably could’ve done something about it. I wonder if that’s why it targeted him.”

No. Erik was pretty sure that wasn’t it.

The reason was in the question.

“How does your despair compare, I wonder?”

That monster, whatever it was, fed on people’s misery and anguish, and seeing as how its eyes had trailed to Eleven more than once, that would imply that it had singled him out as someone worth pursuing.

Something about the Luminary had drawn its attention, and those words had been spoken directly to him.

He didn’t particularly like what that implied.

El carried a lot of weight on his shoulders, far more than any one person should be expected to bear—but as Yggdrasil’s chosen, that was simply the way of it. That was how things had to be.

And yet despite that immense burden, despite holding the fate of the entire world in his hands, he had somehow found a way to live with it, a way to manage his responsibility without being overwhelmed. Sure, maybe he had become a bit more pensive ever since leaving Arboria, and maybe he was prone to getting lost in his own head, but none of that had been too worrying, all things considered (given the threat they were facing, a lot of it actually made sense). People just got that way from time to time, it was nothing for him to fret over, and so in the end, Erik had decided to let it be.

He just hadn’t been too concerned about it.

At first, anyway.

Things were a bit different now.

He knew that something had happened, that El was hiding something from him—from all of them—because the old Eleven never would’ve said what he did that night in Cobblestone.

He never would’ve spoken about dying so casually.

And now, a creature that fed on despair, that feasted on people’s misery, had picked him over the rest of them, despite the fact that Erik knew himself, Rab, Jade, and Hendrik had more than enough baggage to have been prime candidates for the beast too.

It just...didn’t make any sense. While it was true that Eleven had lost a lot, he had never been the type of person to dwell on it too much, always pushing through what might’ve caused others to stop in their tracks. There was a lot to be admired in that. He might only be sixteen, but he was a strong person, and the thief had constantly found himself impressed by both his resolve and his kindness, his willingness to help people despite all the whispers of “Darkspawn” at his back. He hadn’t allowed any of it to drag him down.

...So when did that change?

When did he become someone whose pain exceeded their own?

What was it that existed within him that had attracted that monster’s attention so easily?

Why did this happen?

(It just didn’t make sense).

Erik was so lost in thought, so focused on trying to figure things out, that when Veronica suddenly shouted that she had an idea, she ended up startling him so badly that he nearly lost his hold on the Luminary, earning him a look from Jade.

“Serena,” the pint-sized mage began, looking towards her sister with a determined glint in her eyes, “play your harp! You know a song, don’t you? One that can weaken monsters.”

Serena’s eyes lit up as everyone turned to look at her, and she quickly reached for the instrument that she always carried at her side, one that had definitely aided them more than once both off and on the battlefield.

“I’ll give it a try,” she said, determination coloring her words as she closed her eyes and began to play.

The melody sparked a memory, just a tiny little thing, of a great black serpent being consumed by light as a song echoed across a snowy plain. He couldn’t remember where it was from or when it had happened, or if it truly ever happened at all, but for just a moment, that memory was as vivid as the image of Serena playing before them now.

(Déjà vu. That was something that had been happening a lot lately).

Serena’s music carried with it a power, passed on from the sage Serenica just the same as her harp. Surely this would work. Surely this would be enough to draw the darkness out of Eleven, to force the monster to leave him. He just prayed there would be no lasting damage, that El would be strong enough to pull through. He was the Luminary, after all—if anyone could withstand the darkness, it was him—and so with as much optimism as he could manage, Erik forced himself to swallow his panic and pushed the fear deep down in his chest.

He needed to have faith in his friend, needed to believe that everything would turn out alright.

He kept his hand over Eleven’s heart though, just in case.

Which meant that he was in the perfect position to notice when something changed.

Barely a minute after Serena had started playing, the pace of the heartbeat beneath his palm picked up drastically, and his eyes immediately darted down to his friend’s chest.

“What is it?” Jade asked, clearly reading the surprise on his face.

“His heart... It was pretty weak before, but it’s beating like crazy.”

“It must be working!” Veronica cheered. “Don’t stop, Serena!”

The healer nodded, her expression determined as her fingers plucked deftly at the strings, and throughout it all, Erik kept his eyes on the Luminary, just waiting for something to change.

Hopefully for the better.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long.

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a soft light.

“Look, the mark!” Sylvando exclaimed, pointing to Eleven’s left hand as it began to glow.

The seven of them watched as it grew brighter and brighter, slowly at first until all of a sudden it became blinding, bathing the entire room and everything within it in a warm, ethereal light. They closed their eyes against the radiance, allowing it to engulf them, to wash over them, and as it did, it brought with it a sense of peace and comfort, wrapped together in that very important feeling of hope.

(He couldn’t help but think that Eleven’s power was just like him in a sense, brilliant and gentle and kind. Always kind).

Taking a deep breath, Erik finally allowed himself to let go of his fear, his anxiety, and with a light behind his eyes and a melody in his ears, he simply held on tight and waited for his friend to wake up.

All he could see was darkness. In some ways, that was nothing new. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time that he had found himself alone in the dark.

Actually, it wasn’t even the first time that he had experienced this particular brand of darkness, because while it was perhaps a bit more oppressive than the last time he had been here, it was familiar all the same. That made sense though, he supposed. After all, this version of the Gloomnivore was significantly more powerful than the one he had faced in the future, and this time, rather than pulling Eleven into the world of his father’s memories, the beast had entered his own instead.

He hoped that his friends were okay, hoped that whatever state his body was in, they weren’t panicking too much. He had been in this situation before. He could surely escape from it again.

He just needed to—

“You certainly are an interesting one...”

Eleven tensed up at the sound of that slow, overly amused drawl. He spun around, trying to catch sight of two glowing green eyes in the darkness, but everywhere he looked, there was nothing.

He was alone.

“Hmm, yes... You carry with you the memory of a most exquisite pain... Hold still while I sample its delights!”

The darkness around him shifted, and suddenly it felt like he was falling, sinking further into the abyss. This was familiar too, but familiarity didn’t lessen the fear, didn’t alleviate that feeling of something tearing through him, pulling at all the pieces of himself that he tried to keep hidden and dragging them to the surface.

“Ah, I see... Such a pitiful, useless Luminary... Forced to shatter time, to leave everything behind, all to try and save the ones you failed before. The world, your friends... You could not protect them. Your powers were stollen and used to give birth to a monster...”

He didn’t bother trying to block the words out. They were true after all. It wasn’t anything that he hadn’t already told himself.

“You thought that you had changed things, that you could be free, but instead the Dark One rose in the Lord of Shadows’ place... You fear that you will never be able to rest, that the world will keep needing you, that if you aren’t strong enough this time, you will be forced to do it all again... You fear losing everything...”

He tried to close his heart to that voice, tried to force everything back down. He needed to concentrate. He needed to focus on the things he had to do, the promises he wanted to keep, and the people he had to save.

“There is so much for you to drown in... Loneliness, despair, fear, heartache... A kingdom destroyed... A village burned...”

It was fine. He was making up for that. He would help to rebuild them both.

“A friend lost...”

It was fine. He had saved Veronica.

It wouldn’t happen again.

“A world plunged into darkness...”

It was fine.

It wouldn’t happen again, not this time, because he was making up for that too.

It was fine. Everything would be fine.

Everything was—

“A love unrequited...”

...Well.

That one was new.

The previous Gloomnivore certainly hadn’t poked at that particular spot. He was a little surprised, really.

It’s not like he didn’t know it was there—he wasn’t that oblivious—he just...tried not to think about it most of the time. He had already come to terms with it, after all. There was no point in torturing himself further.

He knew that Erik didn’t love him.

For Eleven, falling in love had been completely unexpected. He certainly hadn’t set out on his journey with that intention in mind. Sure, he had known that he would probably meet some people, maybe make a few friends, but love had kind of been the last thing he was looking for (he hadn’t been looking for it at all), which was probably why it had snuck up on him the way that it did. He had always pictured it as something big and momentous, the kind of realization that metaphorically slaps you in the face. It was supposed to be something that you just knew, that you couldn’t ignore, like the idea of love at first sight that was common in so many fairy tales, just like the ones that he and Gemma used to read when they were kids.

That was the image he had always had in his head while growing up. He hadn’t really had anything else to compare it to.

In reality, it had turned out to be quite a bit different.

There was no metaphorical slap in the face, no grand epiphany or dramatic realization. It was something quiet and unassuming and gentle, an unexpected shift in a bond that he had thought he understood.

He didn’t know when things changed. He couldn’t point to a specific moment and say “this was it.” It was something that had built up gradually, across hundreds of tiny moments—escaping Heliodor, jumping off a cliff together, sharing stories over a campfire, fighting side by side, protecting each other, smiling and laughing and even hurting together. Throughout his entire journey, Erik had been the only constant, the one who was with him at the beginning and had still been with him at the end, who was with him again now and would be with him until the Dark One was defeated.

One day, he had simply looked over at his friend and realized that he would gladly spend every day with him, that he couldn’t picture his life without him. Whether it be traveling the world together or living a peaceful life in a quiet little village together or some combination of the two, all he really wanted was for Erik to stay by his side. It was a selfish thought, and so for the most part he had chosen to ignore it, to be content with just having him as a friend, to focus on just making sure his partner survived this journey.

Because sometimes he was reckless, and sometimes he got hurt for Eleven’s sake, and no matter what, Eleven couldn’t lose him—he just couldn’t—because losing Erik would be like losing a piece of himself, something that he could never get back, could never replace, something that was important and precious and—

He took a deep breath, held it in, counted to ten, and then focused on pushing everything away.

Loving someone was meant to be beautiful and selfless, and so no matter how much he might wish that he could have more, he wouldn’t force his feelings on Erik. He had thought about telling him, during those few precious moments before he shattered Time’s Sphere, but that wouldn’t have been fair. It wouldn’t have changed anything.

This was something he simply had to deal with on his own.

“Yesss... Wallow in it! Marinade yourself in misery!”

He closed his eyes and quieted his thoughts.

Sure, maybe the Gloomnivore was right. Maybe he had a lot of “misery” in his life. Maybe there were a lot of things he regretted, things he wanted but knew he could never have, people and places he had failed to save, a friend and a world that he had shattered time to get back, and an entire kingdom full of people who had lost their lives just because he’d been born.

All of that was true. The Gloomnivore hadn’t said a single thing that he didn’t already know, that he hadn’t thought about and dwelled on himself, but the thing was...he had already come to accept it, to accept all of it.

His mistakes, his burden, the fate of every living thing on the planet... They were his to bear.

Sure, sometimes it was painful, and sometimes all he wanted to do was just close his eyes and let everything go, just for a moment, but never once had he entertained the idea of giving up. Maybe he sometimes felt like a failure, like he wasn’t good enough, that Yggdrasil should’ve picked someone stronger or smarter or just all-around more capable, but She had picked him.

She had picked him, and he wouldn’t trade the places he had seen, the people he had met, or the friends he had made for anything.

Not anything.

He knew that he was a little bit broken and more than a little bit scarred, and that sometimes it felt like he was just one push away from having everything in his carefully constructed world come crashing down around him, but so what?

He was the Luminary.

Even if it destroyed him in the end, he would find a way to persevere.

“What is this? What are you...?”

“I’m sorry,” he said to the darkness, “but there’s nothing you can say to me that I haven’t already told myself.”

The sensation of falling came to a stop, and Eleven did his best to concentrate on gathering his power, drawing on the light that had allowed him to break free the last time. This darkness was deeper, more consuming, but he was stronger than he’d been before. If he just concentrated, then surely he could dispel it and force the Gloomnivore from his body.

He just needed to focus, to reach for that spark and hold on tight. There were people waiting for him, a world that needed him.

He couldn’t fall here.

...It was in that moment that he heard it, a crystal-clear sound echoing in the silence.

The melody of a beautiful, familiar song.

Somewhere off in the distance, he heard the Gloomnivore roar in pain.

“What is that awful noise!?”

He could feel the hold the creature had on him start to weaken, and so with one final push, he drew on everything he had, a power that was his and his alone, and used it to pierce through the darkness.

And when he finally opened his eyes, the whole world was bathed in light.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: A Satisfying Victory

Eleven came back to himself in pieces, but the first thing he heard was someone calling his name.

There were also arms wrapped around him and a hand pressed against his chest, and it wasn’t long before the one voice became two and then three, each repetition a bit more hopeful than the last. He tried to look up at the sound, to figure out who exactly was there—who kept calling his name—but amidst the cacophony of noise echoing around him, it became obvious that his eyes, contrary to what he remembered, were still firmly shut.

He could’ve sworn that he had opened them. He could’ve sworn that he had seen a world bathed in a golden light. However, that clearly wasn’t the case, and so with a great deal of effort, he forced them open—for real this time—and was greeted to a very blurry scene.

The light from before was still there, kind of, although it was far more muted and seemed to be coming from a place at his side. There were also two familiar faces looking down at him, faces that were filled with worry, and after blinking a few times to try and clear his vision, he tilted his head carefully from side to side.

Blue and violet. He knew those colors.

“Erik? Jade? What...?” His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his words coming out slower and softer than he had wanted. It probably didn’t help that his head felt a little foggy too, his thoughts sluggish and lethargic. Without really thinking about it, he attempted to move, to push himself up from his reclined position, but in addition to the exhaustion in his limbs, he was met with a gentle pressure against his chest, keeping him in place.

“You shouldn’t try to move yet,” Erik told him. “We don’t know what that thing did to you.”

“Thing...?”

It was then that he heard a pained roar come from the other side of the room.

...Right. The Gloomnivore.

They still needed to deal with the Gloomnivore.

At least he had managed to force it from his body. It would be a lot easier to handle this way.

“Serena,” he heard Jade call, “can you try healing him again?”

“Of course.”

His eyes flicked over to a point just in front of him, and there, kneeling on the stone floor, was Serena, her harp clutched tightly in her hands.

She had been responsible for the music, for that soothing melody that had weakened the monster and given him the strength he had needed to escape the darkness.

He smiled at the healer as she set her harp aside and gathered magic in her hands.

“I heard you playing,” he said, and while he still felt a little sluggish, his voice was stronger this time and the fog was starting to clear from his head. “I really like that song.”

It was the same song that she had played in the future when she saved them all from the auroral serpent.

She really did have an incredible power.

Serena gave him a smile, although it did nothing to dimmish the concern in her eyes. Without a word, she reached for him with her magic, attempting to heal him, and even though he was pretty sure that he wasn’t actually hurt, that there was nothing for her to fix, he decided not to say anything on the matter and simply let her do as she pleased. It was obvious that he had scared her—that he had scared all of them, really—and so instead of trying to tell his friends that it wasn’t necessary, that he was fine, he would let them have this, would allow the three of them their worry.

Later, he would be sure to apologize, because he certainly hadn’t meant for this to happen. He hadn’t meant to leave the seven of them alone.

...Wait.

Seven.

It was at that point that he realized something was missing.

Only three of his party were with him.

Where were the others?

Across the room, the Gloomnivore roared, and if he concentrated, he could hear the sound of claws scraping across metal, followed by the crack of a whip and several spells being cast. He raised his head just enough so that he could look out past Serena, and sure enough, there was Hendrick, Sylvando, Rab, and Veronica, fighting the massive beast on their own while he was just sitting there, doing nothing.

He needed to get up.

“What are you doing?” Erik asked, pushing down lightly against his chest to keep him still. “I said you shouldn’t try to move yet.”

“I have to help them,” he said, motioning towards their friends.

“Eleven,” began Jade, “we don’t know what that thing did to you. You’re in no condition to—”

“Please...”

That one word gave the three of them pause, and he could tell they were all staring at him, but his attention was focused across the room on the silent figure of his father still kneeling on the ground. He wasn’t free yet. He wouldn’t be free until the Gloomnivore was killed. Eleven had come here to save him, and despite the unexpected setback, his plan hadn’t changed. He had to do this. He had to bring this tragedy to a close.

His parents deserved to rest.

He turned to Jade, and he could see that she had caught sight of what he was staring at, the look on her face pained. He knew in that moment that she would understand, and like the caring older sister that she was, she would let him go.

“I need to do this.”

“...Alright.”

“Seriously? You’re just going to let him—”

“Please, Erik,” he said, turning to look at the thief, pleading with him to understand just how important this was. His eyes drifted back to the fallen king before returning to his partner. “He’s my father.”

Just three words, but they had the desired effect. Erik’s expression wavered before that steadfast resolve suddenly cracked, and with a very deep, very put-upon sounding sigh (he would allow him that, because he knew that he was being selfish), the thief began to help him back to his feet along with Jade. Serena stood as well, her hands falling to her sides as the magic from them faded, but not a moment later she moved to where Eleven had dropped the Sword of Light.

Carefully, she picked it up, and with a soft smile, she offered it back to him.

“Here,” she said. “You’re probably going to need this.”

He returned her smile with an amused one of his own before taking the blade in hand. He didn’t feel too unsteady on his feet, all things considered, and moving would probably help him recover faster (or at least he hoped so anyway). He took a single step forward, testing his strength, and when he didn’t falter or stumble, Jade and Erik released him, allowing him to stand on his own as they also drew their weapons and prepared to head into the fray.

Eleven looked down at the mark on his hand and saw that it was still faintly glowing—apparently some of the power that he had used to escape from the darkness was still there. Best not to waste it then. Instead he reached for it, drew on it, felt that familiar energy surge through him, and then without any hesitation, he threw his arm out and aimed every bit of it towards the Gloomnivore.

Streaks of brilliant white lightning rained down on the monster, drawing his friends’ attention while also forcing the beast back. He watched as relief washed over Rab and Hendrik, as Veronica smirked in satisfaction and a bright grin split Sylvando’s face.

“Honey, it is so good to have you back.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Sorry for making you wait,” he said as he moved forward to join them.

“You are well enough to fight?” Hendrik asked, looking a bit unconvinced of that fact. Fair enough, he supposed—after all, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time that he had tried to downplay an injury. It also didn’t help that Hendrik had heard about most of his exploits from Sylvando, who loved to tell stories but was occasionally prone to exaggeration. His concern was warranted.

But it wasn’t needed.

“Whether I am or not doesn’t matter,” he said, brandishing his blade towards the beast. “I came here to save my father, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

For a moment, he thought that the knight might protest given just how protective he could be, but to his surprise, instead of disapproval, Hendrik gave him a small, satisfied grin.

“Well said.”

A deafening roar filled the room as the Gloomnivore, upon finally recovering from the rain of electricity, leapt towards the eight of them angrily, scattering their party as they all tried to avoid several swipes from those blood-red claws. Eleven quickly moved forward after dodging, intending to take advantage of the small opening between attacks, and as he did, he immediately felt the magic of Kabuff wrap around him, followed by both Acceleratle and Oomphle, replacing the speed and strength that he had lost while trapped in the dark. It wasn’t quite enough to have him feeling back to a hundred percent (he was going to need a good night’s sleep for that), but it would be more than enough to allow him to fight.

In the end, that was all he needed.

The Luminary slashed at the beast, cutting a line down one of its front legs before quickly leaping back, dodging another swipe from those claws. Then, with his free hand, he began casting Kafrizz, aiming the ball of fire right towards the monster’s head. He wasn’t as good at fire magic as Veronica, but he was definitely good enough, and as the Gloomnivore turned its face away to shield itself from the spell, Hendrik, Jade, and Erik used that moment to close the distance and get in several decent blows on the creature’s flank.

Unfortunately, while their blades bit deep, it wasn’t quite deep enough, and with a roar fueled by frustration, the Gloomnivore sucked in a deep breath and then released it, spewing forth a torrent of black flames. No one wanted to be caught up in that miasma, and so the four of them quickly backed away, but from behind the wall of smoke and fire, he could see those glowing green eyes following as they narrowed in unbridled rage.

That stare was piercing, not to mention unnerving, and when it swept over the entire room only to settle on him once more, he found that he wasn’t at all surprised. Instead, he did his best not to give in, holding fast to his determination, and as he gripped his sword tightly, the Luminary prepared himself for whatever would come next.

However, before the beast could even move, before it could take even a single step, he saw the floor light up beneath it as the familiar sign of an earth sigil suddenly flashed into place.

Erik always did have the best timing.

Stone spikes erupted from the ground, piercing the Gloomnivore’s legs, and as it stumbled from the unexpected attack, completely caught off guard, they were all quick to press the advantage.

Eleven watched as ice and fire rained down on the monster, as daggers and claws and an axe tore into its hide, and even though it managed to remain standing through the onslaught, two casts of Swoosh knocked it firmly onto its side. Just a little bit more and it would all be over; his father’s long nightmare would come to an end. With that thought in mind, Eleven drew on his power and took the Sword of Light firmly into both hands. His mark lit up as energy began to gather around it, shining brighter and brighter until it looked as if he were wielding a blade made out of pure light, and then with all of the strength he had left, every bit of righteousness he could muster, he brought that shining blade down upon the Gloomnivore.

The beast released one last deafening roar before eventually falling silent and still, slumping lifelessly against the floor. Smoke immediately began to rise from its body, the dark magic that had created it breaking away and dispersing harmlessly into the air...and just like that, the monster that had spent the last sixteen years tormenting his father, that had thrived on other people’s misery, simply faded away, leaving not a trace behind.

The Gloomnivore was gone. They had done it.

His father was free.

As soon as the darkness vanished, the form of King Irwin finally began to move, and as he rose to his feet, his whole body became engulfed in light. Once again the shadowed figure returned to himself as the evil was purged, becoming the man from Eleven’s memories, and even though he had only gotten to spend a few brief moments with him (both in the past and the future), it didn’t change the fact that in them, he had been able to feel every ounce of love and dedication that his father possessed, both for his kingdom and his family.

There would always be a part of him that couldn’t help but wonder what it would’ve been like, that mourned the life and the parents that he never got to have, but it was enough to know that however short their time together was, how little he had gotten to spend with them, he had been loved wholeheartedly and unconditionally. They had given up everything for him.

Not because he was the Luminary, but because he was their son.

Because they had loved him.

(It really wasn’t fair).

Someday, he hoped that he could live up to their expectations, that someday he could make them proud...but as his father ran up to him and took him by the shoulders, his face overflowing with joy and awe and relief...he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he already had.

Before long, a soft light began to shine within the chamber, followed by his mother’s voice beckoning his father home, and as the last king of Dundrasil vanished once more, his soul drifting off to be with the woman he loved, a sense of peace settled over Eleven, one that was even greater than the time before. Silently, he offered up a payer to Yggdrasil, asking Her to take care of them, to guide them on their way—and that maybe, if the fates would allow it, if the world could just be kind enough, She could help them find each other in the next life too.

He wanted them to be happy. They deserved it, after everything.

“Goodbye my little one,” he heard his grandfather say. “Goodbye Irwin. I hope both of you find peace at last...”

From the corner of his eye, he could see Serena and Veronica bowing their heads, Jade and Hendrik looking up at the light, and as it began to fade, he whispered one final goodbye to his parents alongside his silent prayer.

Once the light shining down on him was gone, his mother’s voice becoming nothing more than a beautiful echo in his ears, several (rather unfortunate) things suddenly happened at once.

Serena’s Kabuff, Veronica’s Oomphle, and Sylvando’s Acceleratle all wore off at exactly the same time. Those spells had been the only things keeping him going, the only things that had allowed him to fight, and as every bit of beneficial magic simply vanished from his body, a wave of pure exhaustion swept over him. He swayed on his feet, the Sword of Light almost slipping from his fingers for the second time that day, but as he began to tip forward, he was thankfully saved from faceplanting on the ground by Hendrik, who must have predicted that something like this would happen given just how quickly he had managed to intercept him.

Not surprising, really.

“Eleven?” the knight asked, voice soft with concern as he caught the Luminary’s shoulders.

“I’m alright,” Eleven replied, doing his best to sound sincere. “I’m just tired, that’s all...and I suppose my neck is still kind of stiff.”

He could feel Hendrik heave a deep sigh at that, mostly in relief but with just the slightest bit of exasperation mixed in. Probably due to that last comment. Regardless, the knight’s hands relaxed their grip, and he gently pushed Eleven back until the Luminary was more or less standing on his own two feet.

He didn’t release him, however.

Instead, he quite simply stated, “I believe it would be best if we returned to the inn.”

Eleven frowned up at his self-proclaimed guardian.

“The next place we’re going is Octagonia,” he said with as much authority as he could manage (which wasn’t a lot, considering the circumstances). “I don’t want to backtrack when it isn’t necessary, and there’s still a lot of daylight left. I can make it to the next campsite at least.”

This time it was Hendrik’s turn to frown.

“You can barely stand.”

“Veronica and Sylvando can just keep casting Oomple on me until we get there.”

The knight’s eyes narrowed in frustration, but before he could say anything to argue the point further, they were interrupted by one of the two people that Eleven had singled out.

“Uh, I don’t think so, honey.”

The Luminary glanced back to see both Sylvando and Veronica looking at him with very similar expressions (although Veronica’s was obviously a touch angrier, as per usual).

With his hands on his hips, the jester fixed him with a rather firm look.

“What you need is a nice bed and a lot of sleep.”

Eleven didn’t want a nice bed. He wanted a campsite. Campsites were easier, because there were things for people to do at a campsite that didn’t involve just sitting inside their tents. The Salty Stallion was still his preferred place to sleep of course, due in no small part to its privacy, but if he had to choose between an inn and a campsite, he would take the campsite.

Because he knew what would happen if they went back to the Warrior’s Rest Inn. He would be shoved into a room with Erik again, who instead of doing something productive with his time would simply stay in the room and sit there with him just like he always did whenever Eleven was hurt or unconscious or sick, because they were “partners,” and that’s just what “partners” did. For some reason, Erik had gotten it into his head early on that Eleven was his responsibility (though sometimes he wondered if the thief just secretly liked taking care of people), and nothing so far had been able to change his mind. At least at a campsite, there would be other things for him to do or things that Eleven could ask him to do, things that didn’t involve being there while he slept.

If they stayed at an inn, he would be forced to sleep in his traveling clothes again, which wasn’t exactly ideal. It wasn’t very comfortable either.

“I’d rather stay at a campsite...”

“Come now,” began Hendrik, and even though it would’ve been entirely deserved, his tone thankfully wasn’t scolding. “There is no reason to be so petulant. Sylvando is right. It would be best for you to sleep in a proper bed.”

Eleven heaved a deep sigh. It was obvious that he was outnumbered here, because despite technically being the leader of their group, his friends had always been good at ignoring him if they thought he was being ridiculous about something (or just an idiot). He wasn’t going to be able to get his way with this.

Not entirely, anyway.

“Fine then,” he said, “but at the very least, can it please be the inn at Octagonia? I would still rather not waste time backtracking.” His to-do list was long and had been growing longer by the day. The less time wasted, the better.

“I suppose that would be a fair compromise, but how do you intend for us to get there? Did you not say that you have been having trouble with the magical pathways required for casting Zoom?”

He did say that. After leaving Heliodor, he had realized that in his head, he had two pathways for almost every location he had visited, because in the future, Mordegon had messed them all up. So now he had both the original ones and the altered ones, and he had been afraid of mixing them up, of crossing them, because who knew where they would end up if he got it wrong. It was safer for him to not cast it for any place he had yet to revisit. Plus, roaming across Erdrea again served an additional purpose. They couldn’t very well fight monsters and grow stronger if he or Veronica just zoomed them everywhere (and again, he still couldn’t zoom an entire ship across the ocean, even though he had definitely tried).

“...I can probably cast it.” He was aware that wasn’t a glowing endorsement.

“I’ll cast it,” he heard Veronica say with a good deal of irritation in her tone. “Goodness knows where we’ll end up if you do it.”

Fair enough. He could admit that he probably wasn’t the most reliable person right now.

“Alright. Thanks, Veronica.”

With a huff that was half haughty, half pleased, the mage began to gather her magic, and without any further ado, she cast Zoom. He felt Hendrik tighten his hold as the familiar spell enveloped them, whisking the eight of them out of the tunnels, along the magical pathway, and then gently setting them down just inside the main gates of Octagonia. The stagnant silence and the chilled air of the abandoned passage was replaced by the noise and warmth of a bustling city.

Eleven quickly scanned their immediate surroundings and smiled. No monsters, no people in crisis, no panic. In fact, Octagonia didn’t really look all that different from the last time he had visited, with perhaps one major exception. After all, his last trip had been in the future, where the giant statue of Hendrik had been replaced with Booga.

The Luminary knew exactly how his companion felt about his statue.

Eleven might’ve been tired, but he wasn’t tired enough not to have a bit of fun at the knight’s expense. He looked up at the statue and then up at Hendrik, who had clearly seen where his attention had gone if the slightly embarrassed look on the man’s face was anything to go by.

“You’ll have to tell me the story someday,” he said with a smile.

“There is not much to tell,” the knight insisted, but Eleven wasn’t buying that. He simply continued to stare at him, because one thing he had learned when it came to Hendrik was that he tended to cave pretty easily in the face of Eleven’s curiosity.

Sure enough, the man heaved a defeated sigh.

“Very well,” he said.

“Oh, this should be good!”

“I assure you, Sylvando, it is not that interesting of a story.”

“How about we walk and talk, alright?” Jade suggested. “The inn is just across the bridge.”

They began to make their way into the city, and Eleven tried to pull his arms free of the two armored hands holding him but to little avail.

“I can walk, Hendrik. You don’t have to keep holding on to me.”

“I shall be the judge of that.”

...In the end, Eleven was forced to walk with Hendrik, one hand still firmly gripping his arm. He also didn’t fail to notice the fact that on his other side was Erik, and although the thief hadn’t seized his right arm the same way that Hendrik had his left, he was easily within grabbing distance in case the Luminary were to stumble.

A bunch of overprotective worrywarts, the lot of them.

“So, the story?” he prompted, looking up at Hendrik hopefully. The knight grimaced before directing his gaze off to the side.

“I dislike talking about it,” he began, “but the statue was built to commemorate my part in the battle for Dundrasil all those years ago. I tried to insist that a statue was not necessary—it does not become a warrior to boast of his achievements—but they built it anyway. It is...somewhat unnerving to look at.”

Eleven found himself smiling at that. Something else that he had learned about Hendrik during their time together in the future was that he was very easily flustered when it came to being the center of attention, especially when that attention involved anything along the lines of hero-worship or over-the-top admiration.

He was a very humble hero.

“Ah, that’s it?” asked Sylvando as he glanced over his shoulder, the disappointment evident in both his tone and the slight pout on his face. “No stories of a damsel in distress or daring heroics or singlehandedly defending the city from a swarm of angry monsters?”

“No,” was the very deadpan reply he received. “I told you it was not that interesting.”

The jester heaved a dramatic sigh, and Eleven couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his friend’s antics. It was followed very quickly by a sleepy yawn, however, and he felt the hand around his arm tighten.

Seriously. Overprotective worrywarts.

By the time he reached the inn, Rab and Jade had already taken care of booking rooms and dumping most of their supplies. All that remained was to go over their plans for the rest of the day while he was resting, which admittedly didn’t take too long given that the gist of their plan was simply to head for the casino. There would be plenty of people there to talk to who would likely know where the fighters from the MMA could be located, plus there would be all kinds of food for them to eat and some fun to be had.

There was no reason they couldn’t go and enjoy themselves without him.

After helping Eleven down the stairs and to his room, Hendrik made sure one more time that he would be alright before bidding him a somewhat awkward farewell and trailing after the rest of their party.

Well, most of their party.

As the Luminary stumbled over to his bed and flopped down onto it rather ungracefully, a sigh came from off to the side.

He looked over and met a pair of slightly amused but still rather worried blue eyes.

He knew Erik wouldn’t leave.

“Come on, El,” the thief said. “At least take your boots off.”

With a soft huff, Eleven forced himself up into a sitting position on the edge of his bed and leaned down towards his shoes.

He probably would’ve fallen headfirst onto the floor if not for the very quick reflexes of his best friend. Two hands caught his shoulders and pushed him upright, holding him steady as he finished removing his boots and then got to work on the buckles of his coat. He didn’t particularly want to sleep with that on either.

Once all of the unnecessary things had been removed from his person, he once again flopped back onto the bed before slowly maneuver himself towards the pillow, sinking his head down into it as he closed his eyes in relief. However, he ended up forcing them back open again as another sigh came from next to him, his gaze meeting Erik’s as the thief took a seat on the other bed and ran a hand nervously through his hair.

“Are you really okay?” he asked.

The Luminary offered his friend a smile.

“Yes, I’m okay,” he said. “I’m just tired, I promise.”

Erik didn’t seem entirely convinced of that fact, but some of the concern in his eyes thankfully lessened.

“What did that thing do to you anyway?”

Eleven swallowed thickly and turned his attention towards the ceiling. He didn’t particularly want to talk about it, about any of the things that he had experienced in the dark, but he owed his partner at least some sort of explanation.

“It’s...hard to explain,” he began. “It sort of...dug through my memories and pulled up the parts that hurt the most...and then tried to drown me in them.”

“...Are you really okay?”

He heaved an annoyed sigh as he looked over at his friend.

“Erik...”

“I don’t mean physically,” he was quick to correct. “I just...that was your father down there, El. And he was there for years. Rab looked like he was having a hard time after what happened, so I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Eleven’s annoyance quickly melted as he watched the thief duck his head and absentmindedly pull at a loose thread on the bedsheets, a sure sign that he was anxious but doing his best to hide it. Erik wasn’t all that great at “feelings,” at least when it came to expressing his own. He had a habit of brushing things off or changing the subject or relying on humor in order to avoid the things that he didn’t want to talk about, especially when those things strayed too close to the territory of “personal” or “overly emotional.” However, he had always been good at reading people and was quick to pick up on tiny details when it came to how those around him were feeling. He had a habit of trying to lighten the mood whenever any of them were down or getting discouraged, but at the same time he also knew when humor and levity weren’t appropriate, when what was really needed was just a bit of understanding or a listening ear.

It was kind of worrying in a way just how easily he could read Eleven, especially now given everything that the Luminary was hiding, but...at the same time, it was something that always left him feeling kind of warm inside, that made him feel special in a sense. He had never clicked so well with another person before, not even Gemma, and it was nice to know that it went both ways.

From the very beginning, Erik had always been able to see him clearly.

“Thanks, Erik,” he said softly, touched by his partner’s concern, “but I really am alright. Sure, I’m always going to wish that I could’ve had more time with them, that Dundrasil hadn’t been destroyed, but...”

In the future, he had gotten to see it, the place that would’ve been his home. He got to see the face of his mother, feel the resolve of his father, and experience the unconditional love and faith that would’ve surrounded him as he grew up.

“In the end, I was able to meet them, even if it was only for a moment.”

He had been given more than he ever thought he would be able to have, and just like the pendant that he wore around his neck, he would carry those few precious memories with him always.

“That’s enough for me.”

Erik still didn’t look entirely convinced, but at least some of the concern on his face vanished as he released a soft sigh.

“I’ll take your word for it then.”

Eleven smiled up at him, a small huff of laughter escaping as he rolled onto his side and curled up in his bed. He really was tired. He could feel his eyelids slowly starting to close as the promise of sleep began to pull at him.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” he said with a yawn. “You should go with the others and take a look around. We need to find some of the MMA fighters so I can ask them if they’d be willing to come to Cobblestone. Octagonia’s a big place, so it’d be nice if you guys could help me track them down. Plus, I know you wanted to go to the casino. I don’t want you to miss out because of me. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Erik diverted his attention to the floor, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

“...Won’t...fun without...” the thief mumbled, looking a little disappointed. Eleven only caught about half of the words.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” was the very quick response he got. “I guess I can go take a look around.”

Erik levered himself up and walked towards the door, but just before leaving, he glanced back at Eleven, his eyes narrowing with a hint of suspicion.

“You had better still be in that bed when I get back, or I’ll let Veronica shove a sleeping hibiscus down your throat.”

He bit back a snort of laughter, offering his partner a sleepy smile.

“I will be. Promise.”

Apparently satisfied with that answer (for now, anyway), Erik stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

Eleven was alone in the room. That was what he had wanted.

However...

He looked over at his bag sitting in the corner.

He was already in bed, already comfortable, and moving seemed like a massive undertaking that he simply didn’t have the energy for. If he tried to get changed now, he’d probably just end up falling over, and then he’d probably be too tired to put on his sleep clothes anyway and too tired to make it back into bed. Whether he could fall asleep or not while lying on the floor was debatable, but truth be told, he would rather not risk it. Erik’s threat wasn’t an idle one—he really would tell Veronica if he came back to the sight of Eleven not actually sleeping, and she would absolutely shove a sleeping hibiscus down his throat without any remorse.

His friends could be downright terrifying sometimes.

...There was nothing else for it then.

The Luminary closed his eyes, and almost immediately a wave of lethargy swept over him. He seriously was exhausted. While he didn’t particularly like leaving his party to take care of things without him, he knew that this time around he didn’t have much of a choice. Hopefully everything would be fine. They had only come to Octagonia to recruit people for Cobblestone and to check out the casino. It was meant to be an easy mission—no monsters to fight, no people to save, no crisis to avert. Surely his friends could handle that without him, and it would be good for them to relax for a bit too considering all of the places that Eleven still intended to drag them to. There was just so much he needed to do...

But that was a worry for another time.

Right now, his job was to rest, and in the morning, if all went well, he’d be able to cross several more things off his list.

(And with any luck, hopefully he wouldn’t be adding to it).

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: A Temporary Respite

Erik didn’t know how to feel about Octagonia.

He was pretty sure he didn’t hate it, but he didn’t exactly like it either. Some of that may or may not be Jade’s fault. Just thinking about the MMA tournament left him feeling a bit sore, and so he was actually kind of glad that the arena had been turned into a ring of roulette tables instead. Sure, he did enjoy watching the tournament after he’d been knocked out of it, but he wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t feel at least some satisfaction in seeing what Octagonia had become.

He still wasn’t sure just what exactly had prompted the mayor to make such a drastic change though. Where did he even get the idea from?

“A vision, apparently,” said Jade.

“Seriously?”

The two of them finished weaving their way through the throngs of people and stopped to stand in a mostly empty alcove.

“I guess he was up in the arena one day and was struck by the image of crowds of people playing roulette. Apparently he’s always wanted to draw more tourists to the city.”

They both looked out at the crowded machines, the long lines, and the general merriment of the people around them.

“Well, he’s definitely achieved that,” he said.

Maybe a part of him did miss the MMA. While the streets had still been bustling and full of energy during the tournament, they hadn’t been completely packed like they were now. He wasn’t really the biggest fan of being squished together with a bunch of strangers, which was kind of ironic in a sense seeing as how back when he was actively thieving, a place like this would’ve been a dream come true for him. A bunch of clueless tourists, too busy gambling and drinking to keep track of their valuables... What more could a thief ask for?

Things were different now though. He didn’t have to rely on that to survive anymore.

He had options.

He had plans, and getting thrown into jail again for stealing definitely wasn’t one of them.

Besides, he had promised himself after retrieving the Red Orb that from that point on, he would do nothing that could potentially jeopardize the Luminary’s mission, nothing to draw attention or get his new friend in trouble.

He had promised himself that he would do nothing to disappoint him, nothing that would endanger him, and nothing that might cause him to regret placing so much of his trust in Erik.

...He wasn’t sure how well he had kept that promise. At the very least, he hoped that the last one was still true. He couldn’t help but wonder though, sometimes, because he knew that Eleven was hiding something from him. He knew that he was keeping secrets.

He never used to keep secrets.

Not from him, anyway.

“We should meet up with the others,” Jade suggested. “I get the feeling that Hendrik probably needs rescuing.”

Erik snorted at that, chuckling to himself as they made their way back into the crowd and towards the rows of tables that were set up near the stage. That was where they had left Hendrik, and while they hadn’t left him on his own, they did leave him with Sylvando, who was more likely to find amusement over the knight’s discomfort instead of helping him—and sure enough, the scene they walked up to was an expected one.

The Hero of Heliodor was being fawned over by several of the staff, who had obviously recognized him given just how well-known he was (that giant statue overlooking the entrance to the city certainly did him no favors). He looked decidedly uncomfortable with the situation, which wasn’t at all surprising really, and while Sylvando was technically still with him, the jester was mostly ignoring the man’s silent plea for help. Instead he was just sitting at a nearby table with Veronica and Serena, who also didn’t seem inclined to get involved, looking on in amusement as Hendrik got more and more flustered.

This was the price of fame, unfortunately—to be recognized and assaulted by fans wherever you went.

Jade, deciding to take pity on the poor man, left Erik and hurried over to the knight’s side, and the look of relief that crossed his face upon seeing her was absolutely priceless. He used to think that Hendrik was kind of intimidating, back when the man was still chasing them across Erdrea, but in reality he was a little bit clumsy, a little bit awkward, and incredibly earnest.

Erik might be willing to admit that he liked having him around, just a little. Maybe one day the two of them could even be friends.

(Anyone who shared the goal of keeping Eleven safe was alright in his books).

With a quiet sigh, the thief made his way over to the table that half of their party was currently occupying and took the open seat next to Serena.

“So?” he began, looking at the twins. “Did you two have any luck finding anyone from the tournament?”

Serena sadly shook her head.

“I’m afraid not. Apparently they were all here yesterday, but everyone we spoke to said that they haven’t seen them today at all.”

“Well, I suppose they can’t spend all their time gambling,” he mused, because honestly, where would they even get the money for it anyway? Now that there weren’t going to be any more MMA tournaments held, what exactly were all of the fighters doing with themselves? He got the feeling that for some of them, turning over a new leaf or finding a new profession wasn’t going to be easy.

If that was the case, then maybe some of them would be more open to the idea of coming to Cobblestone and protecting it from monsters than he had initially thought. It would give them something to do with their skills at least.

“It is a little strange though,” said Veronica. “You would think that one or two of them would be around here somewhere. I thought for sure those two girls would be, anyway.”

“Maybe they had something else to do today,” Jade interjected as she took a seat, pulling Hendrik down into the chair next to her. “We could search the rest of the town, but I don’t know how much good it’ll do. We don’t exactly know where any of them live.”

They all settled into silence as they mulled the situation over. It was a bit disappointing, really. They’d been given one task to complete while Eleven was sleeping—just one, and they couldn’t even manage that much. It shouldn’t be this hard to track someone down from the tournament.

Seriously, where was everyone?

“I guess we’ll just have to come back tomorrow then,” said Serena, ever the chipper, optimistic one. She didn’t seem too bothered by the idea of staying in the city for another day. “That way Eleven will be able to enjoy the casino too.”

At the mention of their leader, the mood surrounding their party seemed to drop a bit. It was understandable, given what had happened.

“...Do you think he’s really okay?” Jade asked, her question directed towards all of them even though her gaze was fixed firmly on the table. “I know that what happened was really hard on Rab, which is why I agreed to leave him alone at one of the bars for now, but with Eleven... I can’t tell if he’s actually alright or if he was just trying to pretend that he was for our sakes.”

Three sets of eyes suddenly turned towards Erik, identical in their curiosity (and two were actually identical).

He looked back at Serena, Veronica, and Sylvando, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

“What?” he asked, maybe a bit more defensively than he’d intended.

“Oh come now, honey, there’s no reason to be coy,” said Sylvando. “We just want to know if our dear El is okay. You spoke to him, didn’t you?”

“I...yes, but that’s...” None of your business, he was going to say, except that in this case it kind of was. They were all worried about their leader, and it wasn’t really their fault that they didn’t know how he was. Erik had sort of taken it upon himself to help Eleven, had volunteered just like he always did (just like he always would). He couldn’t exactly blame them for not knowing.

That didn’t stop him from feeling like Sylvando was trying to imply something though. Or pry. The jester was very good at prying.

“Erik?” Jade prompted, voice soft and worried but hopeful, and in the end that was all it took to have him sighing in defeat.

“He said he’s okay.”

“And do you believe him?” asked Veronica. He looked over at her, at the skeptical but also curious look on her face, before turning his attention to the table as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Did he believe him?

Eleven was hiding something, that much was obvious. Something had happened to him that day in Arboria before they went into the First Forest. His resolve had hardened, and his instincts had sharpened, but he had also become more paranoid, more cautious, and a lot more reserved. He smiled less and got lost in his head more, and he no longer looked around at the world in that almost innocent, wide-eyed wonder that Erik had grown rather fond of during the earlier days of their journey. Even when they came across something new, something fantastical, the Luminary never seemed surprised by it. Cetacea, the Watchers, the Timekeeper—it was as if they weren’t “new” to him, as if he had seen them all before.

He was keeping something from them, something important. He could pretend all he wanted to, but Erik was certain of it. Eleven had always been and would continue to be a terrible liar, and there were a lot of things that had come out of his mouth recently that the thief knew he couldn’t trust, but...

In this, at least, he believed him.

“Yeah, I do,” he finally said, and at those words, he could see his friends relax just the slightest bit.

With a deep sigh, Veronica propped her elbow on the table and placed her head in her hand.

“I suppose there’s nothing for it then,” she began, going back to their earlier topic of discussion. “I guess for now we should just enjoy ourselves like he told us to and continue our search tomorrow.”

He saw Sylvando and Serena’s eyes light up.

“Oh, what do you all want to play first?” the jester asked, clapping his hands together. “I’ve always wanted to try roulette!”

“That could be fun,” Jade agreed.

“Then perhaps we should grab some snacks and head up to the arena?” Serena suggested. “They were selling these delicious fried pastries over there.”

“If this is what you have all decided, then I suppose I have no objections...”

“Come on, Henny-Wenny. It’ll be fun!”

With Sylvando on one side and Jade on the other, the knight was dragged to his feet, and then together, the six of them made their way through the bustling crowd towards a row of what looked like small food stalls.

As he watched them all chatting amicably amongst each other, a kind of strange feeling washed over him.

It didn’t feel quite right, trailing behind his friends by himself, looking over to his side only to see that no one was there. He had gotten so used to having the Luminary with him, to walking beside him, day in and day out for over half a year now that not having him there felt like a part of him was missing. He simply had to remind himself that Eleven was only sleeping, that there wasn’t anything wrong with him, that sitting by his bedside and waiting for him to wake up was stupid and paranoid and would only irritate his friend if he awoke to see Erik there.

He didn’t need to worry. Eleven would be fine.

He would be fine.

(Maybe, if he just said it enough, he could find it in himself to actually believe it).

By the time they finally made it back to the inn, it was late—a lot later than he would have expected. Who knew that Jade and Serena would be so lucky when it came to gambling? While none of them had managed to hit a jackpot (not that he’d been holding out much hope for that anyway), they had definitely walked away with more tokens than what they’d started with, thanks to the two girls.

Maybe they would have to try their luck again tomorrow. They might even be able to afford some of the prizes from the exchange counter if they could keep this up.

A rather encouraging thought, that.

As Erik walked into his room, feeling thoroughly exhausted after such a long day, he made sure to close the door quietly behind him, although in reality he probably could’ve slammed it shut and it likely would’ve made little difference.

One thing that had never changed about their Luminary in all the time that he had known him was that, for better or worse, he slept like the dead.

The thief looked over at his partner’s bed to see that, just like he had promised, El was indeed still there, still sleeping in exactly the same position that he had been in earlier. It honestly didn’t look like he had moved at all, except to maybe curl in on himself a bit tighter, having drawn his legs up close to his chest. He looked kind of cold, actually. They had learned during their last stay in Octagonia that the nights could get a little chilly sometimes, and it would seem that the Luminary had been too tired to bother with unmaking his bed before deciding to just nod off. It made sense that he would be cold.

Erik couldn’t exactly leave him like that.

Getting the blankets out from under him without accidently waking him shouldn’t be too hard—it would take a lot more than just a bit of shifting to rouse him. There had even been a few times during their journey where the only thing that had worked to get him up in the morning was dumping a glass of water on his head (courtesy of Veronica, who had very little patience for their leader’s sleeping habits). Eleven was unlikely to stir, so long as he was careful.

As gently as he could, he pulled the covers on the bed down, lightly shifting the Luminary whenever necessary until finally he was able to throw the blankets over him (and if he spent just a bit of time making sure that his friend was comfortable, well...that was his business and no one else’s). The whole process of essentially “tucking him in” didn’t take too long, thankfully, and almost immediately after he was done, Eleven began to move, snuggling deeper into the sudden warmth that he’d been given as a soft, sleepy sigh escaped his lips.

Erik couldn’t help but smile at the endearing sight as a feeling of fondness began to spread through his chest. What he wouldn’t give to be able to just lean down and press a kiss to the crown of his partner’s head, to run his fingers through soft brown hair...

But he knew that he couldn’t.

Because Eleven wasn’t his.

He had to be content with the way things were, with caring for him from a distance. He had to be, because despite what he had told Derk, he had no intention of acting on his feelings. Not yet anyway. He simply couldn’t bring himself to do it, would rather wait until he was certain one way or the other about how Eleven felt, because no matter what, he couldn’t lose him.

Losing the bond they had forged, the friendship they had, the sense of family that he had found... It would break him.

He would rather have this, would rather keep the rest of it hidden and to himself, than have nothing at all.

Erik turned away from the bed and walked over to their bags that he had dropped in the corner of the room, quietly pulling out a sleep shirt and pants. It was late, and he was tired, and so that meant it was time to turn in. No point in staying up any longer.

As he put out the lone candle on the nightstand and got into bed, he took one final look at the Luminary before closing his eyes.

Hopefully they would be able to wake Eleven in the morning. Hopefully whatever had been done to him would wear off by then. He was choosing to believe his friend when he said that nothing was wrong, that he was just tired, and so that had better be the case.

And hey, maybe sleeping for an entire day would actually do him some good given just how tired he had been looking lately. He could probably use the extra rest.

With that thought in mind, Erik allowed himself to drift off into sleep and hoped that in the morning things would be better.

They still needed to find the MMA fighters, after all.

Eleven was used to waking up to one of four things: someone shaking him, someone yelling at him, a combination of the two, or water being splashed in his face. There had been a few additional methods thrown in before, like that one time where Sylvando had slapped him, or that time where Erik had pulled the blankets off his bed and Eleven along with them, or that time where it had been just him and Hendrik and the knight had threatened to roll his sleeping mat up with him still in it (and then had proceeded to make good on that threat).

Ever since setting out on his quest, he had rarely been allowed to wake up on his own. Even on the Salty Stallion, where he had his own private room, someone was usually sent to fetch him, mainly so that he didn’t miss out on breakfast (quite easily the most important meal of their day). Sleeping in simply wasn’t an option for him when half of his friends were morning people. That was just the way it was, and begrudgingly or not, he had gotten used to it.

So when he slowly drifted back to consciousness and his eyes opened completely of their own accord, not because someone was shouting at or shaking him, needless to say he was more than a little surprised.

The room he was greeted to was quiet and dark—no candles lit, no people moving around, no sounds from the rooms next to or above him, nothing—but perhaps the most shocking thing of all was that in the bed across from his, Erik was still sleeping.

That was certainly something he didn’t get to see too often. It had to be pretty early for the thief to still be asleep given that he was one of the aforementioned morning people. Normally his partner was already dressed and ready for the day by the time Eleven managed to crawl out of bed, so this was indeed a rare sight.

But definitely not an unwelcome one.

However...

Eleven had once been told by Serena that he always looked so peaceful while he was asleep, which was why she could never bring herself to wake him and the responsibility generally fell to Erik or Veronica, especially in those earlier days. Veronica had told her that everyone looks “peaceful” while they sleep, and therefore that wasn’t a good enough reason not to wake him, but looking at Erik, he wasn’t sure if “peaceful” was really the right word for it.

Relaxed, perhaps, or maybe just less guarded, but not peaceful.

And it’s not like he didn’t understand why.

Very early on in their partnership, the Luminary had learned two things about his companion. The first was that Erik was an extremely light sleeper—he was pretty much the opposite of Eleven in that regard. Even the smallest sound could wake him, could have him alert in seconds, which was a survival instinct more so than anything else. After all, traveling alone was dangerous, and Erik had been on the road for years before eventually meeting Derk. Being able to wake at the slightest provocation was important when it came to staying alive in a monster-infested world.

The second thing that he had learned had a lot to do with the first. It was also something that he was unlikely to ever forget.

Never try to shake him awake if it looked like he was having a nightmare.

Eleven had made that mistake once, while the two of them were camping on the Emerald Coast, and after finding himself thrown down and pinned harshly to the ground, he had made sure to never make it again. Apparently Erik didn’t have nightmares that often—it had been poor luck for it to happen when it did—and so after apologizing and explaining to Eleven why he was such a light sleeper, the Luminary had reluctantly promised to be careful and not to try and wake him if it were to ever happen again. Thankfully it hadn’t, at least not to his knowledge, and since Erik usually awoke before him, it was an easy enough promise to keep.

He understood some of it better now, some of the things that his friend had been through and the pains buried deep in his past. Unlike Eleven, the world he had grown up in hadn’t been kind.

Hopefully once their quest was over, Erdrea would finally be safe and everyone could live in peace. Maybe then there would no longer be a reason for Erik to look quite so tense while he slept.

One could hope, anyway.

With a soft and perhaps somewhat wistful sigh, the Luminary began to slowly lever himself up, deciding that maybe he should get out of bed. However, he ended up stopping short as he noticed that there were blankets currently over him. He was pretty sure those hadn’t been there when he fell asleep.

Which meant that Erik must have done it.

Eleven smiled to himself and settled back down in his bed, curling up under the covers. Maybe he would enjoy just a few more minutes of lazing around. He was unfortunately too awake to fall back asleep, but lying in bed had its own charm. Surely he could be a bit lazy just this once. Besides, if he did start moving around the room, he would have to be careful. He didn’t really want to wake his slumbering roommate, after all.

Better not to risk it then. Instead, he simply made himself comfortable and closed his eyes.

...He wondered how things had gone yesterday without him. Hopefully his friends had been able to enjoy themselves at least a little, to relax a bit and have some fun at the casino. More so than finding the MMA fighters, that’s what he had been hoping for. They deserved to have some time to themselves, to just forget about their mission for a while and enjoy each other’s company. Octagonia was a good place for that.

Not that he hadn’t wanted to go out and enjoy their company too, of course—he would never pass up an opportunity to spend time with his friends. In fact, once all of their work was done and everything had been put to rest, he very much wanted to go traveling with them again. He wanted to see the world without having to worry about saving it, and it would be so much more fun if all of them could come along for the trip. He wondered if they would be up for that.

It wasn’t exactly a realistic thought though. He knew for a fact that it wasn’t realistic. All of them had lives and responsibilities and things they probably wanted to do that didn’t involve spending time with him and going on more adventures, but he could still dream, right? There was nothing wrong with just dreaming.

He would gladly get lost in those kinds of dreams.

...Eleven wasn’t sure exactly how long he lazed around for, lying there thinking about some of the things he might like but would probably never be able to have. However, when he began to hear people moving around on the floor above him, signaling the start of the day, he figured that it was probably time to get up.

He tried to be quiet. He really did. It certainly wasn’t his fault that Erik had left all of his stuff just lying on the floor instead of putting it away in his bag.

Eleven’s foot caught the edge of a dagger—sheathed, Erik wasn’t that irresponsible—and it unfortunately made a rather loud clatter against the floor. He saw the mound of bedding shift from the corner of his eye, and in the next moment his partner was sitting up in bed, looking at him with a slightly disgruntled expression on his face. It disappeared rather quickly though as he reached up to rub the sleep from his eyes, only for them to widen as he stared at Eleven.

He wondered if Erik was also thinking about how novel this was, that the Luminary was actually awake before him.

“Sorry,” he said to the thief. “I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s kind of your own fault though. You shouldn’t have left all your stuff on the floor for me to trip over.”

The corner of Erik’s mouth twitched as he tried and failed to suppress an amused smile.

“I take it you’re feeling better?” the thief asked as he proceeded to get out of bed, stretching his arms out before running a hand through his hair, pushing several strands back into place.

“I...yes,” he said, taking a moment to actually think about it. He didn’t just feel better. He actually felt great. Honestly, he couldn’t even remember the last time that he had felt so well-rested. It was kind of amazing just how much of a difference getting a decent night’s sleep could make. “I feel great, actually.”

That answer seemed to satisfy his friend, which was good given how worried he had been.

“Glad to hear it,” he said as he moved towards his bag and grabbed what he needed. “We’ll probably have a busy day ahead of us, after all.”

“Why?”

Erik rubbed the back of his neck a bit sheepishly.

“Well,” he began, “I know you asked us to look around and maybe find some of the MMA fighters yesterday, but we, uh...couldn’t find them. Any of them.”

“Really? Not even one?” That was kind of surprising. There had been a lot of them, and even though the fighting tournaments weren’t being held anymore, he had assumed that most of them would’ve still stuck around the city. Sure, some of them had come from out of town, but for a lot of them, Octagonia was home.

“Nope. We were thinking of heading down to the orphanage to talk to Vince today, see if he knows anything about where we might find them. I guess they usually hang out at the casino, so it was weird that none of them were there.”

“...Did you guys have fun at the casino at least?”

Erik just looked at him for a moment, with maybe a hint of exasperation on his face. It was understandable. They had been having a semi-serious conversation after all, but this was important to him.

“...I suppose we did,” the thief said with a sigh. “Veronica couldn’t actually play any of the games herself, but Sylv let her pick his numbers for roulette, so she didn’t throw too much of a fit. It probably helped that the food was really good. Jade and Serena practically tripled the tokens they went in with. Hendrik lost most of his, and after he decided to join us, Rab didn’t have much luck either. It was probably a good thing that Jade decided we’d only get so many tokens each, or the two of them might’ve lost us everything.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that.

Good. It sounded like they had all enjoyed themselves.

“I’ll have to head up there later. I’ve never played roulette before, but I had really good luck with poker. Who knows? Maybe between all of us, we’ll be able to afford one of the prizes.”

He really wanted to get the Gringham Whip for Sylvando, and there had been a few recipe books that he had been interested in as well. He couldn’t say that to Erik, however. After all, he had technically never been to this casino before. He needed to be careful not to let anything slip.

With a plan sort of in place for the day, the two of them finished getting dressed, cleaned up their mess, and then headed up the stairs to see if any of their friends were awake yet.

It was only after they met up with Sylvando, Hendrik, and Jade that Eleven realized something.

Not once in his story about their time at the casino did Erik mention anything about himself.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: An Unfortunate Reunion

...Well.

This was certainly familiar.

“This is bad, Mister Eleven! Real bad! A bunch of MMA fighters forced their way into the orphanage and headed underground! Uncle Vince went after them, but I’m kind of worried about him down there by himself. Will you go see if everything’s okay?”

At least it didn’t sound like anyone had been kidnapped this time. Still though, the circumstances were eerily similar.

He had a bad feeling about this...

Thankfully the tunnels beneath the orphanage were a lot easier to navigate the second time around, and most of the monsters had little interest in picking fights, which made for a much faster trip. The spider webs were definitely annoying though. He was half tempted to let Sylvando use his fire breathing on them like the jester had wanted, but given how many there were, he got the feeling that probably wouldn’t end well. More hindrance than help, really. Better to play it safe.

(It could’ve been amusing though).

Eventually, after about a half an hour or so of walking, they managed to reach the final corridor without much issue, and thanks to the lack of monsters trying to get in their way, they didn’t end up wasting too much energy either. Both of those things were good, because with the way their luck generally went, they would probably be facing some kind of battle on the other side of the door—and sure enough, when the huge stone slab finally slid open, Eleven stepped into the massive cavern only to see Vince standing there, staring down five familiar but not-quite-right people (glowing green eyes were a pretty big giveaway that something was wrong).

The Luminary rushed forward to join his one-time fighting partner since he was obviously going to need some help, and needless to say the former champion was pretty surprised to see him there.

“What brings you here, partner?” he asked before movement from the five people in front of them pulled his attention back. “Wait—you can tell me later. We got bigger problems.”

That was an understatement.

Because while the Dark One’s return had affected several of the monsters in their world, Calasmos hadn’t really had any effect on the humans. That meant that something else had done this to them, and the presence of all the spiderwebs in the cavern led him to a conclusion he didn’t particularly like, one that seemed impossible.

When they had come here the last time, when they had stopped Vince from making an even bigger mistake than he already had, Eleven had made sure that Arachtagon was dead.

He had been dead—and yet after they punched some sense back into the five MMA fighters, leaving the lot of them groaning on the floor, a familiar voice echoed throughout the cavern.

“Pathetic... Those humans were even more ssspinelesss than I thought... Ssstill, they were jussst the warm-up act...”

They all looked up just in time to see a very familiar spider drop down from the ceiling.

“Arachtagon!?” Vince took a step back in surprise. “What the—!? How come you’re still alive!?”

The monster’s single glowing eye swept over them all, a cruel grin splitting his face.

“I owe it all to the Dark One!” he said in that familiar, slow drawl. “He brought me back and made me ssstronger than ever! Ensssnaring power-hungry fighters in my web of deceit is ssso easy now. Sssoon all will ssserve me!”

Eleven reached back and wrapped his hand around the Sword of Light. Arachtagon simply glanced at him before returning his attention to the former MMA champion.

“But Vince,” he began, “what’sss happened to you, old friend...? You don’t ssseem ssso desssperate as you once did. Has the Luminary sssoftened your sssickly human heart...?”

At the mention of the word “Luminary,” Eleven could see the look of surprise on Vince’s face as the man glanced over at him. That was obviously something that hadn’t come up the first time, and he was a little surprised that Arachtagon had somehow managed to figure it out (maybe that was also because of the Dark One’s influence). He didn’t mind explaining it to his former partner of course, but there wasn’t time to have that conversation right now, so with a shake of his head, he simply mouthed “later” and left it at that. Vince thankfully took the hint and turned back towards the monster before them.

“Sssuch a shame... I had sssomething ssspecial in mind for you. You were going to be the centerpiece of my plan to rule Octagonia...”

Next to him, Vince fell into a fighting stance.

“Uh-uh, not gonna happen!” he said.

Arachtagon hissed in irritation, and Eleven drew his blade. He could hear the sound of his friends preparing their weapons as well, could see Jade and Erik moving forward to stand with him and Vince. They would play this battle the same way they did all of their more difficult fights. He didn’t even have to give the order or shout commands. They all knew what his strategy would be without even needing to be told.

“I’ll follow your lead this time, partner,” Vince said to him quietly. Eleven nodded in acknowledgment. Having an extra physical fighter would be helpful for keeping Arachtagon’s attention, especially at the beginning. The rest of his party needed time to cast their spells if the nine of them were going to win this.

“You think you can stop me? Ssstupid humans!”

The monster lowered himself into a fighting stance, his one eye narrowing in disgust.

“Very well! Then I’ll have to show you how ssstrong I’ve become! How ssstrong the Dark One has made me!”

And with those words, the battle began.

Eleven charged forward with Jade and Vince right beside him. From the corner of his eye, he watched Erik run off to the right, and behind him he could feel the magic from his party’s enchantments being cast. The eight of them had a system, a tried-and-true strategy that they used at the beginning of most battles when going up against stronger foes. Hendrik, Serena, Sylvando, and sometimes Veronica would focus on setting up support spells, increasing everyone’s defensive and offensive capabilities, while Eleven and Jade would focus on keeping the monster’s attention away from them while they did. Rab would handle the healing until Serena was done, then focus on attacking and hindering, and Erik would immediately at the start of the battle place an earth sigil on the enemy. Sometimes Eleven would add his magic to it as well, along with Veronica or Rab, but whether that was a possibility or not, the thief would set one regardless, both to deal a consistent amount of damage and to hinder movement.

It was a good strategy.

However...

Eleven watched as Arachtagon turned to Erik, ignoring the rest of them entirely, and launched a volley of spines right towards him.

“Erik!” he shouted in warning.

The thief dropped his arm, abandoning his casting in favor of dodging the falling spines, throwing himself out of the way and into a roll before getting back to his feet.

The massive spider then swept one of his legs out, forcing Eleven, Jade, and Vince to give up on their charge, sending them jumping back to avoid being sent flying by the blow.

“Foolish Luminary,” Arachtagon hissed. “I remember our lassst battle. I will not give you the time you need!”

The next volley of spines flew past him and towards the rest of his party, and unfortunately there was no way for him to run back there and intercept the attack. Thankfully they all noticed, and perhaps even more thankfully, Hendrik was quick to move in front, raising his shield and taking the brunt of the blow while the rest of them did their best to get out of the way.

The problem with relying so much on spellcasting was that it took time and focus. You couldn’t cast if you were constantly being forced to dodge incoming attacks. That was why he and Jade always tried to buy them all some time and why the same would be done for him whenever he tried to call down lightning. It was one of the cornerstones of their strategy, and it usually worked, but...

This time, they were going up against an enemy they had already fought before, one who remembered what they had done. Sure, some of their strategies had changed since the last time they fought the giant spider, because Jade and Hendrik hadn’t been a part of that fight at all, but they apparently hadn’t changed enough for it not to become a problem.

...There was nothing else for it then.

“We’re just going to have to go in with what we’ve got and try to keep his attention on us long enough to buy time,” he told Jade and Vince before looking over to Erik, who had abandoned his previous mission and joined the three of them instead. “Just focus on attacking for now. I’ll try to create an opening for you to place a sigil.”

Being bombarded by stone spikes would definitely slow the monster down, not to mention cause a good deal of damage. It was in their best interest for Erik to set one.

“Alright,” the thief said. “Just don’t do anything too risky, okay?”

Before he could reply to that, another volley of spines came flying their way, and the four of them charged forward to avoid the attack while simultaneously putting their own plan into action. Speed would be their advantage in this fight. Larger enemies, despite being strong, tended to be slow, and the four of them all had excellent mobility. The fact that Sylvando had managed to get one Acceleratle off certainly helped.

They could do this. All they had to do was buy some time.

They could do this.

As soon as they got in close enough, Arachtagon immediately tried to stab at them with his long legs, which earned him several large gashes from blades and claws both. In the end he was forced to keep his attention on them, lest he lose a leg or his only remaining eye, and thanks to their combined efforts, Serena and Hendrik were able to finish setting up Kabuff on their entire party.

With his task now complete, the knight rushed forward to join the fray.

Eleven felt the magic of Oomphle flow through him and watched as fire and ice began to rain down on the giant spider, earning them all an annoyed hiss from the newly-resurrected beast. In his anger, Arachtagon launched another volley of spines towards the spellcasters, interrupting any further casting for the time being, and as Hendrik managed to move in and deal a rather heavy blow to the monster’s side during the onslaught, he raised his two front legs in response and swept them outward violently.

This time they were all too close to dodge.

Thank goodness for Kabuff, because he was pretty sure the five of them would’ve been sporting a few broken bones after being struck hard enough to be sent flying, followed by skidding against the cavern floor. A few cuts and shallow gashes, probably a lot of bruises, but nothing fractured, nothing broken, nothing that they couldn’t push through.

He quickly got back to his feet and turned towards Arachtagon, fully intending to return to the fight, only to see the spider rear back and suck in a very deep breath.

...Oh no.

Eleven knew what was about to happen, but much to his dismay, there was nothing he could do about it. They were all directly in the line of fire, and there was no time for any of them to get far enough away to completely avoid the attack.

Arachtagon was stronger than before, just like the Gloomnivore, and when he breathed out, the amount of webbing that he sprayed was way more than what Eleven remembered it being. It flew faster, spread farther, would reach across the entire battlefield and cover everything, even his spellcasters, and—

And what if they were all caught in it? What if they were unable to move?

What if they ended up at the mercy of a malicious monster who could possibly kill every last one of them before they even had a chance to—

An armored shoulder slammed into him, shoving him forcefully out of the way.

As he hit the ground, he watched as Hendrik became encased in webbing, the force of the attack causing him to fall heavily onto his side.

“Hendrik!”

“I’ve got him!” Jade called as she rushed over, thankfully having managed to keep herself from suffering the same fate (she had always been fast, her speed outmatched only by Erik, and he should’ve remembered that, shouldn’t have been so concerned). She began tearing at the sticky strands with her claws. “Just focus on Arachtagon!”

He got to his feet and took a quick look at the rest of his party. Serena had managed to avoid getting tangled in the webbing as well, but Veronica, Rab, and Sylvando weren’t so lucky. Vince was on his way over to help them, having been fast enough to avoid the attack too, but it wouldn’t be enough. They either needed more help or more time, and he was the only one left so it couldn’t be help, it would have to be time, and...

...Where was Erik?

In the chaos, he had lost track of the thief. It didn’t take long to find him, however.

Beneath Arachtagon flashed a familiar magical sigil, and upon seeing it, Eleven looked off to the side and across the cavern. Sure enough, there stood Erik, with his arm outstretched and a smirk on his face, and as the massive spider tried to move only to be struck on all sides by stone spikes, his grin grew just a touch wider.

“What!?” hissed Arachtagon upon realizing what had happened, followed by a triumphant “Yes!” from the thief. The monster, in his rage, launched another volley of spines directly towards him, and while Erik managed to dodge all of them with relative ease, he wasn’t so lucky on the next volley. As more spines rained down, faster and more violently than before, he just couldn’t get out of the way in time, and one of them managed to catch his right arm, cutting through fabric and flesh alike. The gash thankfully wasn’t very long, but it did look deep, and unfortunately it was enough to slow him down, to throw him off, his daggers both slipping from his fingers and clattering against the ground.

Leaving him completely defenseless.

...This was bad.

This was really, really bad. He needed to do something.

But what?

Eleven had exactly two choices before him. He could either heal his friend or attack Arachtagon. If he healed Erik, that didn’t necessarily mean that his partner would be able to dodge the next attack. There was always the chance of him getting hurt again. On the other hand, if he attacked Arachtagon, then maybe he could draw his attention away from Erik. The only downside to that would be that the thief wouldn’t be able to rejoin the fight again until someone else was able to heal him (and it would also paint a rather large target on Eleven’s back—not that he particularly cared about that. He was more than used to it by now).

In the end, the choice was obvious. From the beginning, he had always been the kind of leader to prioritize his friends’ safety over his own.

Before Arachtagon could prepare another attack, the Luminary called on his magic. The mark on his hand lit up, and in the next second bolts of lightning descended, striking the giant spider and preventing him from launching any more of his spines.

The monster roared in pain before turning towards him, his lone eye narrowing in rage.

“Accursssed Luminary!” he bellowed, raising his front leg with the clear intent of striking him.

That was fine. It would be fine. The earth sigil would activate and slow him down, giving Eleven enough time to dodge the attack and counter.

It was fine. He would be—

Arachtagon swung towards him violently, ignoring the activation of Ridgeraiser, ignoring the stone spikes that struck his body from every angle, all for the purpose of slamming his leg into Eleven before the Luminary could move out of the way.

“El!”

It turned out that being slammed against a bunch of rocks hurt.

All of the wind was knocked out of him as his back hit the cavern wall, and he was unfortunately prevented from catching his breath by a weight pressing firmly against his chest. Instead of letting him fall to the ground, the massive spider was keeping him pinned, stopping him from moving at all. By some miracle, he had actually managed to hold on to the Sword of Light, had tightened his grip on pure instinct to keep it from slipping from his hand, but it wasn’t going to do him much good if he couldn’t get his arms free. Stabbing Arachtagon from this angle wasn’t really an option for him, and while he did have magic at his disposal, he needed to be able to focus to cast it, which was very hard to do in his current situation.

He hoped that Jade and Vince were making progress on getting the others free. He stood no chance of escaping if they weren’t.

“Even if I were to die here,” Arachtagon began, “sssurely the Dark One would resssurect me again and grant me even more power...if I were to at least finisssh you...”

The leg pinning him to the wall pressed even harder against his chest, and now in addition to not being able to catch his breath, it felt like he couldn’t breathe, like all of his ribs were about to break. There were rocks digging into his back and black spots forming in his vision and he was probably going to pass out from the lack of air and then be crushed to death against the wall, and...

And he absolutely did not want to die like this, with so much left undone and several things left unsaid, and not before at least trying to fight Calasmos and save the world and bring peace back to Erdrea and—

A large fireball slammed into the side of Arachtagon’s head, followed by a rain of ice.

“Let him go!” he heard Veronica shout before another fireball flew towards the spider, this time hitting him directly in his glowing green eye. The monster cried out in pain, taking several steps back, and the leg that had been pinning Eleven to the wall loosened as a result.

So instead of being crushed against the rocks, he was going to fall headfirst onto the cavern floor. He wasn’t sure if that was really an improvement or not.

“Serena, Sylvando! Cast Woosh!” Veronica yelled (she had always been good at that, evaluating and taking control of a situation, knowing what to do in a crisis. He really had missed her).

He felt the wind magic engulf him, slowing his descent, and while it wasn’t enough to keep him from falling entirely, it bought enough time for Hendrik to reach him, to catch him easily and set him safely on the ground. The Luminary tried to thank him for it, but he was too busy coughing, still trying to catch his breath after nearly being killed (talk about a close call).

From the corner of his eye, he could see Jade and Vince rushing Arachtagon, could see Rab healing Erik, and as the magic of Kabuff and Acceleratle wrapped around him once more, he knew that Serena and Sylvando were renewing their spells while Veronica stood with them, raining down fire and ice upon the monster.

Eleven felt the touch of healing magic wash over him, and breathing immediately became a little easier.

“Thanks, Hendrik,” he finally managed to get out as the pain slowly began to recede, although there were a few places in his chest that continued to ache even after the magic was gone. He knew what that meant, knew what had happened, but regardless, he still tried to get back to his feet.

Only to be stopped by an armored hand on his shoulder.

“You should not try to move,” the knight told him. “Three of your ribs were broken, and while I was able to mend them, I am nowhere near as proficient at healing as Lord Robert or Serena. You should wait until one of them can look at you before rejoining the fight.”

“We don’t have time for that.” They really didn’t. While Erik’s earth sigil was still in effect, it wasn’t slowing Arachtagon down enough to truly give them the upper hand, despite the amount of damage it was causing. At this rate, he was afraid that all of them might run out of strength, not to mention magic, before taking the monster down if something wasn’t done.

They had to do something.

Or more specifically, he had to do something, because Eleven technically had a skill in his arsenal that he could use, he just...didn’t want to use it yet. For a lot of reasons. After all, it was something that he shouldn’t even know—not in this timeline, anyway—and he didn’t really have a good explanation prepared for how he knew it if anyone were to ask. In hindsight, he should’ve considered it. Definitely an oversight on his part.

If he ever met Grand Master Pang on this journey, if she ever tried to train him in the secret arts, he was going to have to do some very intense acting, because he got the feeling that his “I’m the Luminary” explanation was not going to work on her no matter how hard he tried.

...And yet none of that was a good enough reason for him not to use Quadraslash.

Forcing himself back to his feet despite the pain (and Hendrik’s protests), Eleven sheathed the Sword of Light, took a deep breath, and began to focus.

“What are you...?”

Light began to gather in his right hand, glowing brighter and brighter, and as he extended his arm, aiming it right at Arachtagon, he called out to the few members of his party who were currently in the line of fire.

“Jade, Vince! Move back, now!”

They didn’t even question his order, sparing only a second to glance back before dashing off to the side, and as the monster turned to face him, Eleven put everything he had into unleashing Quadraslash.

A giant sword of pure light shot towards the spider, leaving him no time or room to dodge. Instead it carved a path through the cavern, illuminating everything in its wake, and while a smaller enemy probably could’ve avoided it, for a larger one, there was simply no getting out of the way.

It was over. Eleven’s aim was true. He watched as that shining blade pierced right through Arachtagon, and in the end, that was all it took.

The monster collapsed onto the ground, finally succumbed to his wounds, and with one last, pitiful-sounding cry, the darkness that made up his body dispersed, vanishing into the air.

They had done it. The battle was won.

With a deep sigh of relief, the Luminary did his best not to simply fall to his knees in pure exhaustion, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Hendrik hovering next to him as if he were preparing to have to catch him again just like he had back in Dundrasil. He gave the knight a smile to try and reassure him, to let him know that he was alright, and while some of the worry did vanish, curiosity and confusion were quick to take its place. That was understandable, he supposed. After all, he had just used a technique that none of them had ever seen before, that he never even told them he had.

They would probably be questioning him about it later.

“Eleven.”

Or now, apparently.

“What was—?”

“El!”

They both turned to look as Erik ran up to him, out of breath and with concern shining brightly in his eyes. He raised his hands as if to reach out, to grab the Luminary by his arms or his shoulders, but in the end he apparently thought better of it and dropped them back down to his sides.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m—”

Those sharp blue eyes narrowed, and Eleven immediately aborted the second part of that sentence.

“...Hendrik said that some of my ribs were broken, so my chest kind of hurts, but aside from that, I’m alright.”

It wasn’t a glowing endorsement, but the thief seemed to take it for the good news that it was and gave a small sigh of relief before running a hand through his hair. He then immediately fixed Eleven with the same curious, confused look that Hendrik had been giving him, with maybe just a little bit of awe thrown in for good measure.

“What was that thing you did, that giant sword made of light?” he asked. “Since when have you been able to do something like that?”

He had known the question would be coming, and upon taking just a moment to consider it, he did actually have an explanation for what he had done (kind of). It still wasn’t a “good” explanation by any means, but hopefully they would all believe his answer regardless.

“Since the Watchers,” he said, making sure to keep his voice even. “It just sort of came to me after what Eegoltap did in the Temple of Dawn.”

“Huh...I guess that makes sense,” Erik replied, his words slow and thoughtful (and thankfully not skeptical). “The same thing happened for all of us, after all.”

Eleven heaved an internal sigh and allowed himself to relax just a little. It seemed that he was finally getting better at this, at finding believable ways to keep some of his secrets hidden. Now all he had to do was hope that the same lie would work on Grand Master Pang, should the two of them ever meet. Somehow, he very much doubted it. She definitely seemed like the type to see straight through a person’s lies.

Maybe he could tell her that he was just really good at mastering ancient techniques or something, although he got the feeling she wouldn’t believe that story either.

...Whatever. He could worry about it later. Right now, there were far more important things for him to do.

Being mindful of his still damaged ribs, the Luminary turned to look out across the cavern. Jade, Vince, and Rab were helping the five MMA fighters, who by some miracle thankfully hadn’t gotten caught up in the fight. A few of them were back on their feet already, his grandfather doing what he could to heal them, but they all looked a bit worse for wear and like they could really use an entire day’s worth of sleep.

Eleven would put off his mission of asking for their help until tomorrow then. It wouldn’t be fair to bother them about it now.

He could wait until the morning.

The sound of hurried footsteps coming from behind him quickly drew his attention, and he turned to see Veronica, Serena, and Sylvando running up towards him. They appeared to be unharmed, thank goodness. It would seem that despite Arachtagon seeing through his strategy, he had still managed to keep the monster from dealing too much damage to his backline.

“El, honey, are you okay? You took a pretty nasty hit in that fight.”

He offered the jester a smile.

“I’m alright, thanks to you three. You really saved me out there.”

“Oh, it was nothing, darling. Ronnie’s the one who did most of the work.”

Eleven looked down at the fiery mage, who had her arms crossed over her chest and a slightly embarrassed look on her face. Despite being proud of her magical prowess, not to mention her quick wit, he always found it kind of funny how she sometimes shied away from praise, especially whenever said praise happened to coincide with her being concerned. She was strange like that.

(Not that he had any right to talk).

“Thanks, Veronica,” he said. “For a moment there, I really thought I was done for.”

“Yes, well, it was nothing, really,” she told him, trying to waive off his gratitude while at the same time looking pleased by it. “Anyway, never mind that now. More importantly, are you sure you’re alright?”

She was looking at him as if she expected him to lie about it, but seeing as how Hendrik and Erik both knew the truth, there wasn’t much point in trying to pretend.

“A few of my ribs were broken. Hendrik patched me up though, so it’s not too bad.”

“I fear I was unable to heal him completely,” the knight interjected. “Serena, if you could?”

“Of course,” said the healer as she moved forward, hands already alight with the soft glow of magic, and as the familiar sensation washed over him, seeking out all of the places that hurt, most of his remaining pain simply faded away. He was still going to have to be a little careful though—freshly healed bones tended to stay sore for a while and were also susceptible to rebreaking—but as long as they avoided getting into any more fights on their way back to Octagonia, he would probably be alright.

In the end, all of them had come out alright.

...But for a few moments there, he hadn’t been sure if they would. For a few moments, things hadn’t been looking too good for them, and Eleven was fully aware that it would not have taken much for the battle to play out very differently. If Arachtagon had managed to trap them all in his webbing, they would’ve lost. If Hendrik hadn’t pushed him out of the way, he wouldn’t have been able to help Erik. If Vince hadn’t been there to free Veronica and Sylvando, Eleven might’ve been crushed against the wall before they were able to save him.

Things could’ve gone so very, very wrong.

They had gotten lucky.

They couldn’t rely on getting lucky.

While they had been staying at the Warrior’s Rest Inn, Rab and Jade had been throwing around the idea of possibly checking out the trials that Cetacea had mentioned, since they were in the area and all, but Eleven was more sure now than ever that they simply weren’t ready for it yet.

They needed to be stronger.

He refused to lose anyone this time.

Once he was healed, once all of them had regrouped and began to escort the five very drained MMA fighters through the catacombs and back to Octagonia, Eleven did his best to relax, to tell himself that he didn’t need to worry so much, that everything would work out. He got the feeling that some of his anxiety must’ve shown on his face though, because it didn’t take long for Erik to fall into step beside him and gently bump his shoulder against Eleven’s.

“When we get back,” he began, “why don’t we check out the casino? I know you wanted to play roulette, and I’m sure we’re all getting hungry too. The food’s good, I promise.”

Eleven smiled at his friend as some of his thoughts settled and the fear looming at the edge of his mind was pushed away.

When they had first arrived in the city, Sylvando had made the comment that despite everything that was going on, there was nothing wrong with taking some time to enjoy themselves, to just take a moment to rest from their daunting task. He was willing to give it a try.

“I’d like that.”

Just for now, he would let it go.

...It was late.

It was really late.

Seriously, just how late was the casino even open for anyway? They all should’ve returned to the inn hours ago.

He should’ve been back in his nice, comfortable room, sleeping in his nice, comfortable bed—just like any other sane, normal person, but no...

Because obviously that would make too much sense.

Instead Erik was walking up the stairs to what had once been Octagonia’s rooftop arena, his eyes sweeping over the area as he went. Fortunately, it didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for, even if the reason for that was kind of an annoying one.

Sitting at one of the 100 token roulette tables was Eleven, and the reason it hadn’t taken him very long to find him there was because that was literally the exact same spot he had been in the last time that Erik had seen him. He hadn’t moved at all.

Heaving a deep sigh, the thief walked over to his friend.

“I can’t believe you’re still at it,” he said, drawing Eleven’s attention. The Luminary looked genuinely surprised to see him there (understandable, he did say that he was going back to their room), but as Erik dropped into the seat beside him, he simply shrugged it off and gave his attention back to the wheel.

“I made a deal,” he said, his eyes tracking the little metal ball as it rolled and pinged and eventually fell into a number that he hadn’t bet on. “I don’t want to leave until I win.”

“El, it could literally take weeks to get a jackpot. If it were easy, the casino would go out of business.”

“The Jackpot Bunny said she felt like someone would win soon. If I keep playing, then there’s no reason that someone can’t be me.”

Erik fought the urge to sigh in frustration and drop his head onto the table.

There was a story behind this. It was a relatively familiar story by this point. Eleven was really, really bad at saying no to people and couldn’t seem to turn down even the tiniest plea for help. Talk about having too big of a heart...

On their way out of the casino, after eating dinner together and taking another crack at the slots and roulette, this time with their leader in tow, they had run into a little girl at the bottom of the stairs. She had immediately called out to Eleven, and after hearing her story about how she had saved up all of her allowance in order to buy a statue of Vince—a retirement gift for the former champion who had done so much for all the kids at the orphanage—only for someone to cut in front of her and purchase the last one, the Luminary had agreed to go and talk to the man, Richie, for her.

Much to their dismay, the jerk had refused to take the money and instead challenged El to a game.

If he could hit the jackpot on one of the roulette tables, Richie would hand over the statue.

And Eleven being Eleven had said yes.

Several hours later, he was still at it, still gambling away his tokens and trying to hit the jackpot. While it was true that Eleven was the luckiest out of all of them when it came to gambling, this was a tall order even for him.

Erik looked at the roulette wheel and then at the number grid to see what Eleven had bet on.

“Why those numbers?” he asked, pointing to the three that his friend had picked: twenty-one, twenty-eight, and seven. El looked down at the board before looking up at Erik with a shrug.

“Because I like them,” was his answer, and the thief could feel an amused grin tugging at his lips.

“Okay, but seven is right next to twenty-eight.”

“I wasn’t using seven at first, but the ball kept landing on it, so I got frustrated.”

Erik bit back a snort of laughter as the Luminary glared (pouted) at the roulette wheel. Unfortunately, some of it managed to escape (El was just far too endearing sometimes), which earned him an unamused look from his partner.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized, still grinning, which thankfully placated him enough that he turned back to the table and placed another bet. The two of them simply sat there in silence for a while as luck continued to thwart Yggdrasil’s favorite little leaf, because apparently being favored by the World Tree didn’t always equate to mind-blowing luck. Go figure.

“There was something I had wanted to ask you,” El said as both of their eyes tracked the wheel, waiting to see what would happen next.

“What is it?”

And while the ball did fall into one of his numbers, it stopped just shy of the jackpot (so close).

Eleven gave a short sigh, collected his winnings, and then turned to the thief.

“Did you not have fun yesterday, at the casino?” he asked, the question soft and curious and a lot more insightful than Erik had been expecting.

“I...” He looked off to the side, avoiding those bright blue eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck. “What makes you think I didn’t?”

“This morning, when I asked if you all had fun yesterday, you only told me about everyone else. You didn’t mention anything about yourself, so...I was just thinking that...maybe you didn’t enjoy it.”

Erik sighed.

It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy spending time with everyone yesterday, it was just...

“Okay, so maybe you’re right. Maybe I didn’t have as much fun yesterday.”

It just wasn’t the same without Eleven.

“But I had fun today, so it’s fine.”

El gave him a look, one full of skepticism and maybe just a bit of worry.

“You’re not just saying that because I wanted to come here, right?”

This time it was Erik’s turn to give him a look.

“When have I ever held back on expressing my opinion about something?” He was pretty sure that one of the first things he had said about Octagonia was that he hated it, and that was to say nothing of some of the things he had said about Phnom Nonh, Lonalulu, and Gallopolis (though in the latter’s case, it was more so to do with the heat and a certain idiotic prince than any actual dislike of the city itself). In general, he wasn’t really one to mince his words or hold back. He just didn’t see the point.

All of them knew that.

Especially Eleven.

His partner’s mouth twitched, and Erik could tell that he was trying and failing to hold back an amused smile.

“I suppose that’s a fair point.”

With that out of the way, the two of them looked back down at the wheel.

“...You sure you don’t want to call it a night?”

“I’m not leaving until I win.”

This time he didn’t try to keep from sighing and simply let his head fall onto the table.

“You don’t have to stay, you know.”

Erik chose not to deign that with a response and instead looked at the grid of numbers where Eleven was placing yet another bet.

“Have you thought about adding any more numbers?” he asked the Luminary, earning him a slightly confused look.

“I...no. Does it matter?”

The answer to that was probably not. The odds were pretty much the same for every number—roulette was mostly a game of chance, but still...

“Instead of seven, why not pick a number on the other side of the wheel? You might have more luck that way.”

El looked down at the table, studying both the grid and the number placement with a thoughtful look on his face.

“...Okay then.” The boy reached for the board and slid his bet from seven to fourteen. “There.”

“Why fourteen?” At this point he was just curious.

“It’s half of twenty-eight and two times seven,” he said, as if that logic made perfect sense and Erik was just being ridiculous for not realizing it.

There were some things about the Luminary that he would probably never understand, like why for some reason he preferred multiples of seven. Sure, seven was considered a lucky number by most (that’s why the jackpot on a slot machine was a row of sevens), but he was pretty sure that luck didn’t carry over. It’s not like twenty-eight was four times luckier just because it was made up of four sevens.

Maybe he’d ask Eleven about it later. For now, the two of them simply watched the roulette wheel spin.

After five more failed spins, the Luminary, for some reason, suddenly tripled his bets.

“What are you doing? Trying to lose all your tokens faster?”

“No,” he said in that patient, calm tone of his. “I think I’m getting close to winning.”

Erik was still leaning on the table, and at those words, he buried his head in his folded arms and sighed (again).

“El...”

From the corner of his eye, he could see his friend giving him a wry smile.

“Have a little faith, Erik.”

...Those words were completely unfair.

He wondered if Eleven somehow knew that the only thing Erik had any real faith in was him.

“Okay, okay...”

He took a deep breath, sat up, and turned his attention back to the game.

The croupier, who Erik had to admit was doing an admirable job of not laughing at the two of them throughout this whole ordeal, smiled as she spun the wheel.

And when that little metal ball landed on fourteen, and that fourteen stopped right in front of the jackpot, well...

Something told him that regardless of his skepticism, this outcome had always been inevitable.

In the end, the two of them left the casino with a Gringham Whip, a recipe book, and a promise from Richie to have the statue delivered to the orphanage, and upon being told the good news, the little girl who had started it all wrapped her tiny arms around Eleven in a joyful hug.

As the Luminary knelt down in order to return the embrace properly, Erik couldn’t help but smile.

El was the reincarnation of a legendary hero, someone who had all of Erdrea resting on his shoulders, who was destined to save the world. It was a monumental, infinitely important task to carry out, but sometimes...

Sometimes moments like these felt just as important, just as necessary. Saving someone didn’t always have to consist of something big.

And maybe one day, if they were lucky, those small, simple moments would outnumber the rest.

He was certain that someday they would.

Never let it be said that Erik didn’t have faith.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: An Easy Reconciliation

For the most part, their trip to Octagonia had gone rather well. The battle with Arachtagon notwithstanding, Eleven had been able to accomplish everything he had set out to do without much trouble. After saving the MMA fighters, both the Underdigger and the Abominable Showman had agreed to go to Cobblestone and protect it, so that was one more thing he had been able to cross off his list. Plus, in addition to fulfilling one of Gemma’s requests, he had also been able to give his party a much-needed break by staying in the city. Seeing all of them looking so well-rested for a change helped to settle his nerves quite a bit.

What wasn’t helping to settle his nerves, however, was the current topic of conversation, courtesy of Rab and Jade, though it was the latter who seemed the most convinced about what their next course of action should be.

“I just think,” she began, “since we’re already out here, we should at least attempt the trials.”

It’s not like he didn’t understand the logic; he wasn’t a fan of wasting time backtracking either, but at the same time...

“I don’t think it would be a good idea yet,” he said, his words not coming out anywhere near as confident as he had wanted them to. “They’re probably going to be difficult...”

“We won’t know for sure unless we try.”

That was true, but still...

“I just...I’d rather wait for now.”

Eleven had a plan—honestly, he really did—but it wasn’t exactly the kind of thing that he could share with his friends. Not fully, anyway. He knew that eventually they would start to get impatient with him though, that sooner or later they would start questioning his decisions, questioning why he was putting off the one thing they actually needed to do, but the Luminary had his reasons.

In the future, he had seen the outcome of being unprepared, of trying to fight against something they just weren’t ready for yet. At the Heart of the World Tree, Jasper had single-handedly brought all of them to their knees, overwhelming them with the power of darkness. It really hadn’t taken much. Then, while they were all struggling to remain conscious, his master, the Lord of Shadows, had stolen something from Eleven, from Yggdrasil—a power that was meant to protect the world, to save Erdrea, only to use that power to destroy it instead.

They had lost everything, and while Eleven was able to defeat Mordegon in the end and had even managed to stop him this time too, it didn’t change the fact that Calasmos was different. The Dark One was a being that even the Lord of Shadows had been concerned about, an ancient evil several times more powerful than anything else they’ve faced.

They had one chance to set things right. They couldn’t afford to fail this time.

No matter what, he did not want to have to do everything over again, to run away by himself in order to reach the tower and shatter time and fix even more mistakes.

The fight with Arachtagon had been close. They couldn’t afford “close.” He had no idea how difficult the trials were going to be, what all would be at stake, but the reality was that if they went in underprepared, they could die. All of them could die.

He refused to let that happen.

Jade looked like she was about to say something, more than likely wanting to explain her point further, but before she could even open her mouth, their conversation was interrupted by Hendrik, who had been standing off to the side and clearly listening in but so far hadn’t bothered to offer his opinion.

“Eleven,” he began, drawing the Luminary’s attention. “Might I have a word?”

Confused but more than a little thankful for the interruption, Eleven nodded and rose from his seat (he was done eating breakfast by this point anyway, and it’s not like his friends needed him around while they finished off theirs).

“Of course,” he told the knight.

Hendrik then proceeded to lead him away from the tables and off towards one of the less crowded alcoves where no one would be able to overhear their conversation, and while the Luminary wasn’t quite able to place the look on his face when the man eventually stopped and turned to him, it felt like something very close to understanding.

“Am I right in assuming that you do not wish to attempt the trials because you believe we are not yet ready for them?”

“I...” He was maybe a little surprised that Hendrik had been able to figure that out, but at the same time it made sense that he would. He had been kind of good at that in the future too, reading Eleven’s intentions without needing a lot of context.

The Luminary hesitated for just a moment before nodding.

“Then might I make a suggestion?” he asked, to which Eleven simply motioned for him to continue. “If your goal is to become stronger, then perhaps we should head for Puerto Valor.”

He got the feeling he knew where this was going.

“Don Rodrigo is one of the most decorated knights of our time. I believe his strength and wisdom would be invaluable.”

On the surface he didn’t really see any problem with that. They were at a bit of a loose end since Eleven didn’t want to attempt the trials yet. Sure, he still had an entire list of things to accomplish, but at the same time he didn’t want to drag his friends all across Erdrea without some kind of itinerary or plan in place (because again, sooner or later they would start to question him about it). He had been thinking of heading to Gondolia since he wanted to make his way towards Hotto (for several reasons), but Puerto Valor was more or less on the way, so there was no reason they couldn’t stop by.

Besides, this would allow him to cross one of his bigger things off his list that he had simply labeled “Sylvando’s Papi.”

“I don’t see a problem with that,” he said.

This time it was Hendrik’s turn to look hesitant.

“There may be one small problem with it,” the knight said. “I cannot say for certain, but... I believe that Sylvando might in fact be Don Rodrigo’s son, Norberto.”

...Well now.

So, Hendrik had worked it out on his own this time, without needing to hear that Sylvando was from Puerto Valor first. Spending so much time together must’ve helped him line the pieces up. After all, the two of them had known each other when they were younger, had trained together under Don Rodrigo to become knights. They had probably been friends, given that Sylvando knew things about Hendrik that few others did (like a previous fear of the dark).

Hendrik was looking at him, clearly waiting for some kind of reaction, and when Eleven failed to display any sort of surprise over the revelation, he once again put the pieces together and arrived at the correct conclusion.

“You do not seem surprised,” he said. “I take it you already knew?”

He nodded. There was no point in trying to pretend.

“Do you all know then?”

“No,” Eleven said with a shake of his head. “Just me, and before you ask, he didn’t tell me. I figured it out.”

This was one lie he had been preparing for, because he had been pretty sure that sooner or later it would come up. He hoped that Hendrik wouldn’t ask for details. He didn’t like lying and didn’t much care to create some kind of story as to how he had discovered Sylvando’s secret.

Thankfully Hendrik let it go at that.

“The two are, unfortunately, not on good terms,” he told the Luminary. “I fear I do not know the details, but they had a terrible argument, and Norberto left Puerto Valor, never to return. I had always wondered what became of him. I never thought I would meet him again like this.”

“Were the two of you friends?”

“To an extent. We trained together under his father in our youth. He has changed a great deal since I last saw him, of course. It is little wonder it took me such a long time to work it out.”

Someday Eleven hoped to be able to hear the full story. Maybe after he fixed Sylvando’s relationship with his father, the knight and the jester would tell him about their time training together. He knew bits and pieces of it, but he was sure there were some amusing stories to be shared that he hadn’t gotten to hear the first time around.

“Regardless of their differences,” Hendrik continued, “I am certain they will both put them aside for the greater good.”

Eleven was certain they would too.

“Okay then,” he said, his mind made up. “We’ll head for Puerto Valor.”

And if any of them tried to argue with his decision, he would cross that bridge when he got there. At the very least, he knew he could count on Hendrik to have his back.

Needless to say, not everyone had been particularly happy with his decision to head for Puerto Valor. Several of them had still believed that attempting the trials would be in their best interest while they were in the area. Nevertheless, they had boarded the Salty Stallion and set sail anyway after hearing his and Hendrik’s explanation, because at the end of the day, there was nothing wrong with making a detour for the purpose of becoming stronger.

They needed every advantage they could get.

Sylvando, as expected, became uncharacteristically quiet during the journey, and he stayed that way right up until they set foot in the town.

It was kind of nice to know that Eleven wasn’t the only one who was an exceptionally poor liar.

“Okay, darlings, you have fun now!” the jester said with a wink. “I need to go and, uh...powder...my...horse... Ahem. Ciao for now!”

He then proceeded to try and saunter away, much like he had the first time they had visited the city.

Hendrik was very quick to put a stop to that.

“Sylvando. Wait.”

As the jester came to a stop, a very resigned sounding sigh escaped him. He clearly knew what was about to happen. Eleven simply stood back with the rest of his party and watched as Hendrik took the reins on this one. If a little extra push was needed, he would step in, but he was pretty sure the knight could handle it.

“You are Don Rodrigo’s son, Norberto. I have long suspected as much.”

There were a few surprised gasps at that revelation, and Eleven realized belatedly that he probably should’ve feigned surprise as well. His complete lack of shock would likely earn him some questions later (his money was on Veronica. She was generally the one who noticed, and unlike Hendrik, she would probably demand an explanation).

To his credit, Sylvando didn’t even bother trying to deny it, and when he turned around to face the knight, he offered the man a wink and a wry smile.

“You found out my little secret, huh? Nice work, Inspector Hendrik! I guess I should be flattered you even remember me from back then...”

Hendrik heaved a very put-upon sounding sigh and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shook his head.

“Why? I do not understand. Why would such a diligent boy—one so committed to the knightly ways—abandon it so...utterly? Your father must surely disapprove. This is why you are leaving, correct? You mean to avoid him? At a time like this, you would put your personal concerns over those of your companions? Erdwin’s Lantern hangs low in the sky. Our world is in danger.”

The knight was a lot better at this than Eleven thought he would be, and in the end, those words were all it really took to convince Sylvando to put aside his fear and see his father. The Luminary had known that it wouldn’t take much. The jester, despite leaving his old life behind, was still a knight at heart, had always been kind and chivalrous and willing to put others before himself. When they had first met him, he had joined their party without hesitation despite knowing that they were on a quest to save the world, that it was going to be dangerous (and he had done it again too, even after seeing just how powerful the Lord of Shadows really was). Most people weren’t like that.

Eleven truly was fortunate to have found such amazing companions on his journey.

After they all agreed to go with him for moral support and to help explain the situation to his father, Sylvando proceeded to lead them confidently towards the mansion that had once been his home.

Said confidence began to wane, however, as they approached the doors.

“Are you okay?” Eleven asked softly, noticing the suddenly strained look on his friend’s face.

“Yes, sorry, darling. It’s just...” He heaved a deep sigh. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him. What if he doesn’t...?”

He wasn’t used to seeing Sylvando so shaken, so unsure of himself (it had only happened once before, in this exact same situation). He didn’t particularly like it, and there was really no reason for it, even though the jester didn’t know that yet.

Eleven placed a hand on his friend’s arm, drawing his attention.

“It’ll be alright,” he said with as much conviction as he could, the conviction of someone who had seen it all before. He already knew what the outcome of this would be, already knew that Don Rodrigo would forgive him, that even though Sylvando had run away from home, had left without saying a word to any of them, his father had never stopped seeing him as his son or as a knight.

This was a bridge that could be mended, that neither of them had truly burned, and Eleven wanted to help them cross it once more.

“Let me fix this for you.”

Sylvando simply looked down at him in surprise before a warm smile spread across his face and some of the confidence returned to his eyes.

“Thank you, El,” he said, placing his own hand over the Luminary’s and giving a gentle squeeze. “It probably seems a bit silly to you, huh? The first and only time you got to meet your father was when he was passing on, while mine has always been right here in Puerto Valor, and I’ve just been refusing to see him for all these years.”

Eleven simply shook his head. While he understood what Sylvando was getting at, the thought of being jealous over the things his friends had that he had always been missing had never even crossed his mind. They all carried their own pain, and they all carried it differently.

“I don’t think it’s silly. You had your reasons.”

This time it was Sylvando’s turn to shake his head as the smile on his face grew a touch wider.

“You really are the best of us, you know?”

He gave Eleven’s hand one last squeeze before squaring his shoulders and turning back towards the door.

“Alright, darling. I’m ready.”

With a deep, fortifying breath, he took that first step forward.

“Let’s do this.”

In the end, everything went exactly the way Eleven had expected it to.

With maybe one major exception.

“Can’t say I ever thought we’d end up back here again.”

He glanced over at Erik as the thief moved to stand next to him, a wide and undeniably amused grin spreading across his friend’s face. Eleven couldn’t help but smile in return as he looked up at the towering structure before them with its impressive architecture, formidable height, and way too many stairs.

The Kingsbarrow. Definitely not a place he had expected to be revisiting.

“This certainly brings back some memories, huh?” said Erik.

“It really does,” he agreed with a soft chuckle.

“You’ve been here before?” asked Jade, drawing both of their attention, and it was in that moment that Eleven realized that neither he nor Erik had ever told the story of how they obtained the Red Orb. Or at least they had never told it to Rab and Jade, anyway. Veronica, Serena, and Sylvando all knew, but back in Dundrasil when Erik had handed the Orb over to Eleven, he had only mentioned swiping it from the castle, not stealing it from the Kingsbarrow, and while everyone knew that the thief had been thrown into the dungeons for his trouble, Rab and Jade had not been told that he actually stole the Orb twice...with some help.

“This is where we got the Red Orb from,” Eleven said. “After Erik got thrown in jail, Derk ended up giving it back to the king, and it got relocated here.”

“We made it just in the nick of time too,” said Erik. “Who knows where it would’ve ended up if those monsters had made off with it. Come to think of it...didn’t those griffons say something about getting into ‘his good books’ and a ‘big reward?’”

“Yeah,” he agreed, thinking back to the scene the two of them had walked in on. “Looking back, they were probably talking about Mordegon.”

It was actually kind of funny, since the Lord of Shadows had been the one to have the Orb relocated to the Kingsbarrow in the first place. Those griffons had technically been stealing from the very person they had been trying to impress. He couldn’t help but wonder just how frustrated Mordegon would’ve been to be handed something he had already had in his possession by two idiots expecting a reward for their efforts. It was an amusing thought to say the least.

He heard a deep sigh come from his left, and he turned to look at Hendrik as the knight lowered his head and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. That was his exasperated look, and Eleven got the feeling he knew what had put it there.

“The two of you had already been wanted for escaping the dungeons,” he began, “and yet you felt the need to compound your crimes by breaking into the Kingsbarrow...”

He liked that in this timeline, despite still feeling guilty for the part he had played in it all, Hendrik could feel exasperation over the events that had occurred instead of constantly berating himself for it.

“Mordegon threw El in the dungeons because he was the Luminary,” said Erik, his tone flippant but also just a touch amused. “It’s not like anything we did could’ve made things worse.”

That, sadly, was true, although Eleven was rather grateful that they had only needed to commit the one crime (he would be lying though if he said that it hadn’t felt just a little bit good to get back at Heliodor, especially considering what the kingdom had put him through. Theft felt relatively small when compared to the burning of an entire village).

Hendrik heaved another deep, exasperated-sounding sigh.

“Be that as it may, it was still reckless,” he said. “If you had been caught...”

“But we weren’t, so it’s fine. It’s in the past, so stop worrying about it so much. Everything worked out.”

Erik meant well, he really did. It wasn’t his fault that Hendrik had a bad habit of dwelling on theoretical “what ifs.” The comment he had made in the future after they rescued Jade, the one about having already prepared himself for “a life of solitude and self-flagellation on Mount Pang Lai” if any misfortune had befallen the princess certainly came to mind.

“Let’s get a move on, shall we?” said Rab, cutting off the conversation. “We’ve plenty of daylight still left. We might even be able to reach Gondolia before nightfall if we’re lucky.”

Eleven nodded in agreement, refocused his thoughts, and began to lead everyone up the many stairs into the Kingsbarrow.

The trip through was a lot easier the second time around, mostly because much like with the catacombs under the orphanage in Octagonia, most of the monsters were content to leave them be. While it was true that Calasmos’s presence had certainly messed with a lot of them (those glowing green eyes were really unsettling), it seemed that the majority still had some sense of self-preservation, and the few that didn’t were easy enough to deal with as they made their way further down.

In no time at all, they had reached the lowest floor and the final room, the same one that had once housed the Red Orb. The door was already open, and he could see two huge golden giants waiting for them on the other side.

This was going to be an interesting fight to say the least, because they couldn’t approach it the same way they usually did. Sylvando and Hendrik had to do this, together, with a minimal amount of help from the rest of them, because in order to pass, they had to strike both killing blows with a very specific technique that they had only just learned.

It wasn’t going to be easy (but then again, nothing worthwhile ever was).

Eleven walked over to the two of them as they were making last minute preparations, checking their equipment (the knight with his axe and the jester with two swords instead of his whip) to make sure everything was in order.

“Are you both ready?” he asked, doing his best to keep his nerves from showing, but he got the feeling that some of his anxiety bled through. “Did you get enough practice in?”

Sylvando gave him a smile and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Not to worry, honey,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll be just fine. Right, Henny-Wenny?”

“Indeed.” While Hendrik looked a little irritated by the nickname, he was quick to agree. “I believe the strategy you suggested is a sound one. It should allow us to finish this task quickly.”

The “strategy” in and of itself was simple enough. Boost Hendrik and Sylvando as much as possible, hinder the two giants as much as possible, and then chip away at them with blades and magic until they were at a point where the knight and the jester could finish them off.

It was a decent enough strategy. Executing it would be another matter.

“Then I guess if you’re both ready, let’s do this.”

The eight of them walked into the chamber, and as they all fell into their stances, the two giants did as well, raising their massive clubs into the air.

The battle started just like most of their battles did. Erik immediately cast Ridgeraiser on one of the golden giants and then waited for an opening to do the same to the other while Jade, Hendrik, Eleven, and this time Sylvando charged forward for a head-on attack. Normally he had Sylv and Hendrik stay back and cast support spells until everything was in place, but he had decided to leave all of it to Veronica, Serena, and Rab this time. Between the three of them, they could surely handle it, could set up the necessary buffs and debuffs while also keeping an eye on injuries sustained during the fight. Having five frontline attackers would be beneficial since the goal was to weaken, to keep an eye on the two monsters so that only the right amount of damage was done. Being close would serve them better in that regard.

For the most part, the giants were easy enough to dodge. Thanks to Deceleratle, they were extremely slow, although they both had a shockwave attack that proved difficult to avoid. Thankfully Rab and Serena were able to keep everyone healthy, and once the final few setup spells were cast, Veronica began throwing fireballs, helping to chip away at the golems. Rab eventually joined her as well, using the weakest of his spells much like the fiery mage in order to avoid doing too much damage to the monsters.

All in all, the battle was going well. It was going really well. Sure, this was technically a training exercise, a trial, so from the start it was unlikely that their lives would be put at risk, but still...it felt good to have something go according to plan for a change, for everyone to be able to play their parts perfectly without any interruptions or unnecessary surprises.

When Hendrik and Sylvando were able to strike one of the golden giants down in unison, sending it crashing to the floor, Eleven couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Maybe he was getting better at this, at strategizing and reading the enemy and making the most of his friends’ strengths, and as he watched everyone move together, working to achieve a specific outcome, one that was a bit outside their normal approach to winning, a sense of pride washed over him.

There were times where it felt like there was nothing they couldn’t do so long as they stood together, that the eight of them could accomplish so much more than anything they could achieve on their own. He wanted to hold on to that feeling for as long as he could, to keep it close to his chest, because the reality was that he knew it wasn’t going to last, that it was dangerous for him to think that way. He had already been humbled once before and couldn’t allow it to happen again, but... Just for a moment, he wanted to believe it.

Just for a moment, he wanted to have faith in that feeling.

When the second giant finally fell to both axe and sword alike, the two “knights” moving in perfect unity, he could feel himself smiling so widely it almost hurt.

He watched as Hendrik and Sylvando congratulated each other on their accomplishment in a fashion befitting of them both. He watched as the jester looked around for the “weapon” they were promised, as Don Rodrigo quietly snuck in and managed to surprise Hendrik (a rather impressive feat), and he listened as the old knight explained to them what the “weapon” actually was, what they had truly found and earned during their somewhat unusual trial.

It wasn’t so dissimilar to his own thoughts, to what had crossed his mind just a moment ago during the battle.

“Together, we are more than the sum of our parts. United, we can stand against any foe. Overcome any obstacle. This is the gift I give to you.”

He wanted to believe that more than anything. He just wasn’t sure if he truly could yet.

They still needed to be stronger.

For now though, he would join them in basking in their accomplishment, in celebrating a battle that really had gone according to plan for a change. Hopefully their future battles would go just as smoothly (one could certainly dream, anyway).

As they all began to filter out of the room, talking and laughing and simply enjoying their success, Eleven moved forward, intending to follow, only to be stopped by a voice calling out to him instead.

“Luminary.”

He turned around to face Don Rodrigo. The man had his arms crossed over his chest and an expression that Eleven couldn’t quite read on his face. However, it was obvious that there was something he wanted to say, and so the Luminary spared just one glance back towards his companions before taking a few steps closer to the old knight.

“What is it?” he asked quietly in case this was a conversation the man didn’t want anyone else to overhear. Don Rodrigo also spared a glance towards the doorway before giving Eleven his full attention.

“I must admit,” he began, “I never expected that I would see my son again like this, traveling with you on a quest to save the world. That boy still has a lot to learn, but I am sure he will be of help to you.”

The Luminary couldn’t help but smile at that, a familiar warmth settling in his chest.

“He’s already been a huge help. I never would’ve made it this far without him.” If it hadn’t been for Sylvando, everything would’ve ended in Gondolia, with all of them captured by Jasper only to be dragged back to Heliodor, back to Mordegon. He had really saved them, in more ways than one.

Don Rodrigo looked rather pleased by those words, his lips twitching upward into a grin, eyes shining with what had to be pride. Despite everything that had happened between them, Eleven knew he was proud of his son, proud of who he had become, to see that he had never strayed from his father’s teachings—his morals, his ethics, his code of chivalry—even after all these years.

When the world was safe again, maybe the two of them could work on rebuilding their relationship, on fostering a new respect and understanding. Now that Sylvando knew that his father didn’t truly disapprove of his actions, he no longer needed to fear going home, and the Luminary was certain that once Don Rodrigo knew the full story, he would be able to see that his son was still every bit the knight he had always wanted him to be.

“Once this is over,” Eleven began, “we’ll make a trip to Puerto Valor so we can tell you all about it. We’ve definitely had an interesting journey.”

The old knight placed a hand on his shoulder, his grin growing quite a bit wider.

“I would like that.”

And as the Luminary returned that kind smile with a bright one of his own, it suddenly dawned on him that even though he had just crossed something off his list, he now had something new to add to it. In fact, perhaps he should start keeping another list, one of all things he wanted to do once Erdrea was at peace.

Honestly, he still wasn’t sure if it was worth looking too far into the future, if it was worth putting in the effort to make plans or promises or even think about the possibilities after Calasmos was gone...but surely making a list would be okay, just in case, right? There were several things he wanted to do, after all, if given the chance.

It wasn’t wrong to want something for himself. That was what Erik had told him.

And maybe, just...maybe, if he tried hard enough...

One day he could find it in himself to believe it.

The Salty Stallion arrived in the port of Gondolia just as the sun was beginning to set. They had actually managed to make good time despite everything they had packed into their day. Sure, traveling through the desert of Gallopolis and onwards towards Hotto would have to wait—there was no point in going any further now—but on the bright side, they were docked in a safe place in a safe town, and after getting something to eat, they could all return to their ship and get a good night’s sleep without having to waste money on an inn or worry about being attacked by sea monsters.

He couldn’t remember the last time that a day had gone so perfectly for him.

So naturally, of course, it couldn’t stay that way.

All it took was pulling into the mostly empty docks for them to immediately realize that something was wrong.

“Where is everybody?” Sylvando asked as he looked around. “The last time we were here, this place was full of ships and people, but now I don’t see anyone.”

“Well, perhaps it was busy because of the contest,” Serena offered. “I can’t imagine they would have too many visitors now, what with how dangerous it is to travel.”

“Still though, this place is pretty empty,” said Veronica. “Where are all the workers?”

It was true. The docks were completely empty aside from a few ships. Normally there would’ve been people working, either hauling crates or organizing supplies or simply maintaining and cleaning the area, but there was no one. The whole place was silent and deserted.

“Something’s not right here,” said Jade as she looked around. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Me too,” Eleven agreed as he began to make his way towards the door that would lead them into the city. “Come on. Let’s see if we can find Doge Rotondo. I’m sure he’ll know what’s going on.”

He pushed open the door, and the eight of them stepped out of the docks and into the town.

It took them less than a minute to realize what was wrong.

Standing at the top of the stairs leading up into the city was a group of monsters, three sootbonces with glowing green eyes, and just like with the docks, there wasn’t a single person to be seen. All of the stalls and booths had been left abandoned, with some of the merchandise knocked over and damaged, just lying there scattered across the cobbled streets.

It was hard to tell whether that was a result of the monsters or of the owners being forced to flee in a hurry. Maybe it was both. Regardless, they had gotten their answer as to what had happened to Gondolia.

“Monsters?!” shouted Veronica, speaking the words on everyone’s mind. “How did those get in here?!”

Drawn by the sound, the sootbonces turned to look, and then without a single shred of self-preservation, they began bouncing down the stairs right towards them.

Not wasting any time, Eleven threw his arm out and cast Zap, the bolts of lightning hitting the three monsters as they were halfway down, causing them to fall the rest of the way. They landed in a pile at the bottom of the stairs, and after being bombarded with spells, their bodies faded and dispersed into smoke.

“I can’t believe there are monsters in the town,” said Jade, her eyes narrowing in anger. “They’ve always posed a threat, but they’ve never been as brazen as this.”

“Oh dear...” began Serena worriedly as her eyes swept over the empty booths lining the streets. “Is that why we haven’t seen any people? Did the monsters...?”

Eleven’s hands curled into fists.

“No,” he said with more confidence than he actually felt. “A lot of the people in Gondolia are used to dealing with monsters while they’re out at sea, so I’m sure they’re fine. Everyone probably just fled the city.” He prayed that was the case. He refused to accept otherwise.

Drawing the Sword of Light, he turned to face his friends and quickly fell into his role as leader, a plan already formulating in his head for how best to deal with this. They needed to do a full sweep of the city in the most efficient way possible, to make sure that all of the monsters were dealt with in addition to searching for anyone who might’ve chosen to hide instead of flee. He wouldn’t allow Gondolia to be overrun like this. They would drive out the monsters so that everyone could return home.

“We’ll split into two groups and each take half of the city,” he said. While he didn’t particularly like the idea of being separated, it made the most sense, and between the eight of them, he could form two decently balanced parties that consisted of frontline fighters, support magic, offensive magic, and healing.

Jade, along with Hendrik, Sylvando, and Rab would take the west side of the city, while he, Erik, Veronica, and Serena would head across the main bridge to the east.

“Be sure to look for anyone still left,” he said as they quickly divided up a bit of their supplies. “Let’s try to meet up at the far end of the city where the contest stage is.”

He was met with a chorus of agreement, and after several promises from everyone that they’d all be careful (himself included), they broke off and began making their way through the city. Eleven made a beeline for the bridge, and standing in the center of it was a lone monster, a lethal armor, who appeared to just be watching the chaos below. Armored enemies tended to have better defenses but were generally weak when it came to magic, so a few quick spells were more than enough to dispose of him.

The bridge gave them a pretty good view of the town. He could see several monsters walking down the main street, could see several more meandering about along the sides, and at the edge of the city, standing on the contest stage, was a massive four-armed creature that, if he didn’t know any better, looked like it was flexing its muscles and posing.

How did that thing even get into the city, let alone all the way to the contest stage?

Several of the smashed stalls suddenly made a lot more sense.

“Guess we know who the ringleader is,” said Erik.

“We’ll worry about him later. Right now we need to—”

A loud crash came from behind him, and all four of them immediately turned towards the noise. Several crates of produce suddenly fell to the ground as a group of monsters stampeded through them—smogbonnets and sootbonces both—but what truly caught Eleven’s attention were the two familiar figures with dark blue hair running for their lives down the narrow street.

“Is that...?” began Serena, only for Veronica to cut in.

“Noah and Connie?! What are they doing here?”

What indeed. Eleven had been expecting them to be in Hotto. Now he was going to have to come up with a new reason to drag everyone there.

“Never mind that now!” called Erik as he began moving across the bridge. “They need our help!”

Pushing his semi-ruined future plans aside for now, Eleven quickly began to follow the thief with Serena and Veronica not far behind. They watched as Noah and Connie ran past the armor shop, finally making it into the large, open space in front of the main gates, but the monsters chasing after them were too fast. They wouldn’t be able to make it out of the town before being caught.

Eleven looked at the distance between Noah, Connie, the monsters, and himself and knew that they were too far away. He wouldn’t be able to reach them in time.

With only one option at his disposal, Eleven threw his arm out and gathered his magic, the mark on his hand lighting up as he called down bolts of lightning. It wouldn’t stop all of them, but it would hinder the monsters enough to buy time.

Thankfully, after fighting by his side for so long, he didn’t even need to call out orders as Veronica immediately followed his example and cast Kaboom, halting the monsters in their tracks and giving Erik enough time to close the distance and finish a few of them off. As Eleven rushed forward as well, Sword of Light in hand, he felt the magic of Accelerate wrap around him, and with just a few well-placed strikes and a couple more spells, the monsters all fell to the ground and vanished.

With a deep breath, he temporarily sheathed his blade and turned towards the two people they’d been trying to save.

“Mr. Eleven!” he heard Connie call as the little girl ran up to him, followed closely by her very relieved looking father.

“Boy, am I ever glad to see you lot,” said Noah with a heavy sigh, his eyes trailing over the four of them.

“Are you both alright?” asked Serena as she moved forward, already reaching out with her magic to heal whatever scrapes and bruises the two might’ve received when fleeing the monsters.

“For the most part,” Noah replied.

“What exactly happened here?” Eleven asked. He knew they didn’t have a lot of time to stand around talking, but he needed to know how this had happened and where all the townspeople were.

Because he refused to believe the worst, refused to believe that the people who had chosen to trust in him and defend him when the world had thought him to be a harbinger of destruction had all been killed by monsters. Surely they were all okay. Surely they had just fled the city.

“I don’t know all the details, but just a few hours ago, them monsters suddenly invaded the city. The Doge ordered everyone to flee, so luckily the locals managed to get out in time, but now it’s just monsters everywhere, strollin’ about like they own the bleedin’ place, the cheeky devils!”

“Why didn’t you flee with them?” asked Veronica.

“Well, it’s not exactly any safer out there, now is it? Connie and me found a place to ‘ide instead. Would’ve been fine if one o’ them monsters ‘adn’t knocked over the crate that was keepin’ us ‘idden.”

A sigh came from the fiery mage (she had very little patience for Noah, given what had happened the last time), but Eleven couldn’t really fault the man for his logic. He wasn’t wrong about the danger. He prayed that wherever the citizens of Gondolia had fled to that they were alright.

A loud crash echoed in the distance, snapping him out of his thoughts and bringing him back to the task at hand. There were still monsters to fight after all, and they needed to start making progress on their side of the city so that they could meet up with the others at the contest stage.

“The two of you should be safe here for now,” he told Noah and Connie. “I think all of the monsters have been taken care of on this end. We’ll take care of the rest, so don’t worry.”

Noah simply offered him a grin.

“I know you lot know a fing or two about knobblin’ baddies. Go an’ teach ‘em a lesson so fings round ‘ere can get back to normal.”

With a smile of his own, he gave a single nod before turning back to the city. He could still see several monsters milling about, could see the giant standing on the stage (still posing for an audience of none).

Eleven once again drew the Sword of Light and began to lead his party down the street towards the next group of smogbonnets, and further down the street still, he could see something that looked like a jowler prowling around.

He heaved an internal sigh.

They had a very long evening ahead of them.

Eleven collapsed heavily into the chair at his desk, heaving a very deep sigh (external this time) before proceeding to collapse even further as he leaned forward and draped his upper body over the wooden surface in front of him. He just needed a moment to gather his thoughts, to put everything in order.

A lot had happened in a very short period of time. The past few hours had been nonstop running around as the eight of them cleared the monsters out of Gondolia, tracked down most of the citizens that had fled (they hadn’t gotten too far, thankfully), and escorted everyone they could back to the city. Doge Rotondo had thanked them profusely for their efforts and told them not to worry about the remaining people, that he would send ships out to find those who had fled to sea to escape the monsters. Then he had offered them free food and free rooms at the inn if they wanted, by way of saying thanks.

Eleven had accepted the food but not the rooms (it was unnecessary since they had the Salty Stallion), and after eating their fill and then buying some supplies, he had tracked down Noah and Connie to ask if they wouldn’t mind heading to Cobblestone to help out with the reconstruction. Thankfully the man had said yes, which meant Eleven could cross one more thing off his list.

However, this left him with a small problem.

Originally, he had told everyone that he wanted to go to Hotto to find Noah. He had given them no other reason save that. It’s not like he could tell them about Miko and Ryu, after all—that was not a conversation he wanted to have. However, now that they had found Noah in Gondolia instead, it left him without a definitive reason to make the trip, not only to Hotto but to Gallopolis as well, aside from just wanting to check in on the towns to see if they were okay. To him, those were good enough reasons, but he got the feeling that not everyone would agree, not when there were things they were supposed to be doing, things that he had dragged them away from in Zwaardsrust.

If they brought up the trials again, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to—

The sudden knock on his door felt like karma or irony or whatever force it was in the universe that felt the need to ruin his plans (it seemed that one quiet moment was just too much to ask for. He really should be used to that by now).

With a great deal of reluctance, Eleven got up from his chair and walked over to the door, opening it to reveal the rest of his party. All seven of them were literally just standing there in the hallway, staring at him with a myriad of expressions across their faces...but as soon as he saw the determined glint in Jade’s eyes, not to mention the apology in Hendrik’s, that was all it took for him to understand why they were there.

“Eleven, we’d like to talk to you.”

Those words from his “sister’s” mouth, as dramatic as it sounded, felt like a death sentence.

He had known that sooner or later he was no longer going to be able to avoid this, that eventually they would press the issue and he would have to give in.

Time had never been his friend. It seemed that, whether he was ready for it or not...

“It’s about our next course of action.”

He was going to have to attempt the trials.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: A Terrifying (Re)encounter

This was a terrible idea.

This was a really, really terrible idea.

“I think we should head back to Zwaardsrust and attempt Drustan’s trials.”

That was what Jade had said to him.

“I know you originally wanted to head for Hotto in order to look for Noah, but we found him here in Gondolia instead, so we don’t need to go there right away anymore.”

They were wrong. That wasn’t the only reason he had wanted to go to Hotto, but of course they didn’t know that because Eleven hadn’t told them, because he couldn’t tell them. He had wanted to check on Miko and Ryu, to see if there was anything he could do to help, to promise the priestess that somehow he would find a way to save her son without any further sacrifice, that she just needed to be patient for a little while longer.

It seemed though that those plans were going to have to wait.

“Since we’re at a bit of an impasse, this is the perfect opportunity to test ourselves. We can leave the Salty Stallion here—it’ll be safe in Gondolia’s port—while we use Zoom to go back to Zwaardsrust.”

It was a decent enough plan. It was true that their ship would probably be safe while docked in the city (he doubted that monsters would be invading again any time soon) and that they could easily leave and return thanks to the Zoom spell, but still...

He just wasn’t sure if they were ready.

“...Are you all in agreement on this?”

He had already known the answer before he even asked the question.

In the end, he had given in.

What else could he have done?

The sealed room beneath the ruins of Zwaardsrust was dark and cold, the only light coming from a glowing rune on the floor. There was magic at work here, a great deal of it, something unlike anything he had ever felt before. He got the feeling he wasn’t the only one who could feel it, since Veronica, Serena, and Rab had all been drawn to the glowing mark too, looking over it curiously. If he wasn’t so nervous, he probably would’ve joined them in their musings—ancient magic was fascinating, and he had always been too curious for his own good—but as it stood, he was simply trying to do his best not to devolve into a mass of worry, to give in to that pit of anxiety that seemed ever present in his chest.

With a deep breath, he moved his right hand to the hilt of the new sword hanging at his hip and gripped the pummel to try and steady himself. A Fizzle Foil, hastily crafted with the Fun-Size Forge. Certainly not his best work, but it would have to do for now. It would serve him well enough in the battles to come.

Ever since the day they had gone up to Yggdrasil, Eleven had been primarily relying on the Sword of Light as his only weapon and had been keeping his left hand empty in order to more effectively wield the blade as well as cast spells. He was quicker with his magic when his hand was free, and while he could still cast when wielding a second blade, this time around he had decided to leave most of the offensive spellcasting to Veronica and Rab. He had no idea what would be awaiting them in the trials, and so he wanted to be as prepared as he possibly could be with a strategy that left as few openings as physically possible. For that reason it made sense to divide their group a bit differently than normal, to have four of them on the frontlines at all times to intercept and counter attacks, and four of them in the back focusing primarily on casting spells. Normally he had Hendrik help out with setting up Kabuff and Magic Barrier, but he got the unfortunate feeling that just wasn’t going to be possible this time.

He still thought this was a terrible idea, that they weren’t ready yet, but...

“We can at least try, right? If we get in over our heads, you can always cast Zoom to get us out. It’ll be fine, El.”

What else was he supposed to do in the face of everyone’s confidence? He didn’t want them to think that he didn’t trust them, didn’t believe in them. He was their leader, after all. Their Luminary.

He needed to be stronger than this.

“...My apologies.”

Pulled from his thoughts, Eleven turned to the side and came face to face with Hendrik. The knight’s voice was pitched low, implying that he didn’t particularly want anyone else to overhear whatever it was he had to say, and given the apologetic look on the man’s face, the Luminary was pretty sure he knew why.

“I was unable to find a convincing argument to dissuade them. I know you did not wish to come here yet.”

He offered the knight a small smile. Despite the anxiety still roiling in his stomach, those words were a bit of a comfort. It was nice to know that the decision to confront him hadn’t been completely unanimous. While he understood where his friends were coming from, understood the belief they had in him, in themselves, in what they could all accomplish together...he had already seen everything fall apart, had seen them all fail, had watched the world slip into despair as countless lives were lost. He no longer had that same unwavering confidence, that belief that everything would turn out alright just because he was the Luminary, because they had Yggdrasil on their side.

There were moments though where he wanted to believe it, just like yesterday in the Kingsbarrow, but for him it was a fleeting notion, because all the teamwork in the world wouldn’t save them when faced with something significantly stronger than themselves.

That being said, however, he still believed that it was good that they were confident, good that they couldn’t conceive of failing, that they had faith in their ability to do this. He wanted them all to remain optimistic. He would shoulder the truth alone. It was better that way, no matter how lonely it might be.

...But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t just a little bit grateful for Hendrik’s words, for someone who understood his doubts.

“It’s alright, Hendrik,” he said with a shake of his head. They were here now, and there was nothing else for it. He would simply have to make do and hope for the best. “Who knows? Maybe I’m just being paranoid and it won’t be as bad as I think...”

He prayed that was the case. He was more than okay with being proven wrong in this regard.

“Perhaps,” the knight agreed, “but it would be best to remain cautious. There is no telling what awaits us inside.”

He nodded in agreement, and with one more deep breath, he began to move towards the platform.

As he stepped into the light, he did his best to quiet his thoughts, to calm his nerves, and to prepare himself for whatever they may face...but as he and his friends were warped into a space surrounded by darkness that reminded him just a little too much of the void between worlds, he began to worry once again that he had made a mistake.

There was no going back now, however.

They would simply have to try their best and hope it was enough.

Optimism. He needed to at least try to be optimistic, to tap into that feeling from before they had visited the World Tree and everything fell apart. Blind optimism wasn’t great, but neither was anxiety. He needed to find some kind of balance between caution and belief.

He could do this. It would be fine.

He could do this.

They stepped onto another glowing mark on another stone platform and were transported yet again, this time to a place that looked a lot like the Snærfelt. In fact, it looked exactly like the Snærfelt.

With perhaps one major exception.

“Whoa, take a look at that sky!” he heard Erik exclaim as all eight of them turned their attention upward.

There was no bright blue sky, no sun, no clouds. There wasn’t even a dark grayish sky with snow falling or a night sky full of stars. Instead there was just darkness, the same kind of darkness they had just seen in the space between the two warp points. It was probably because this world was clearly fabricated, a place that wasn’t entirely real. They weren’t actually in the Snærfelt, no matter how much it might look like they were. Clearly that dark sky was just the result of whatever weird magic was being used to create the trials. It was simply there, a byproduct and not something intentional.

Surely it wasn’t intentional.

Surely it wasn’t there to remind him of a world consumed by darkness, of looking up while walking across the Emerald Coast toward the Last Bastion and seeing a sky devoid of any light.

Surely that wasn’t the case...and yet regardless of intentions, he couldn’t keep his mind from going in that direction.

“What even is this place anyway?” he heard Veronica ask. “It looks like the Snærfelt, but it’s obviously not.”

“Aye,” Rab agreed. “I reckon we’re dealing with some very ancient magic here. Not just anyone can create a whole other dimension like this.”

“How about we walk and talk, alright?” Sylvando interjected with a slight shiver. “It might not be the Snærfelt, but it’s still cold.”

“True enough. Come on you lot. Let’s get a move on.”

He could hear them moving, could hear the snow crunching under several sets of feet, but Eleven couldn’t bring himself to move, his eyes still fixed skyward.

It was too similar, was too much, and he began to wonder if whoever was creating this, whoever was behind this somehow knew.

If they knew that he was—

A hand descended on his shoulder, startling him.

“You okay?”

He finally pulled his eyes away and looked down into the worried face of his best friend.

Eleven took a deep breath and held it in, closing his eyes for just a moment. He couldn’t be doing this here. They were all counting on him. Even though he hadn’t wanted to come here yet, they were here now and there was nothing he could do about it. He just needed to focus on making sure they all made it through this and nothing else.

He could ignore the sky. Probably.

“I’m fine,” he lied, brushing off the concern and forcing a small smile onto his face. “Let’s go.”

He tried to pull away, but the hand on his arm tightened, and the worried look being directed at him fell into something just shy of frustrated.

“I know you’re lying,” Erik said.

“I’m not.”

“You are. You’re obviously worried about something, so what is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

“El...”

He bit his lip as his eyes flicked back towards the sky before settling once again on Erik. The thief clearly noticed where his attention had gone as he too looked up towards the sky for a moment.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” he asked. “I know it’s a little unsettling, but it’s not like this place is actually the Snærfelt. Sniflheim isn’t actually covered in darkness. I don’t think you need to worry about it.”

He wanted to correct him, but he knew that he couldn’t, that he shouldn’t. He didn’t want to have this conversation, and if Erik were to misunderstand his hesitation, then it would save him from having to try and explain it (since lying clearly hadn’t worked out for him so far).

But still...a part of him wanted to tell him the truth, to tell him that Eleven was worried they weren’t ready for this yet, that he had wanted to wait until they were a little bit stronger, until they had mastered a few more techniques, a little more magic, and until he could find another sword that could more evenly match the Sword of Light.

Surely they would stand a better chance if given just a little more time, but everyone had believed that they were ready now, and he hadn’t had it in him to try and argue the point when more than half of them had brought up valid reasons for why it made sense to try.

At the very least, he had wanted to wait until Veronica and Serena had been given enough time to master the new spell they had been working on—a devastating burst of magical power that would surely be able to wipe out just about anything that stood before them. The two had been practicing for quite a while now, ever since the Seer had given Veronica that necklace that allowed her to return to her original form and access the fullest extent of her magical capabilities. She had found a way to tap into the magic of it, but she couldn’t do it quickly yet, and since she could only hold that form for a few minutes, it didn’t give them a lot of time to practice. They had yet to try and use it during battle given the amount of time they would need to pull it off.

It was very much a last-ditch effort sort of technique since it required the two of them to expend all of their magic in one massive burst of power, but surely it would be good for getting them out of desperate situations, an ability that could turn the tables if things were looking dire.

A safety net if nothing else.

...Maybe if he had just been honest with all of them, they wouldn’t have pushed back so hard. He actually had plenty of decent counter arguments if he really thought about it, and Hendrik probably would’ve backed him up.

It was a little too late for that, however.

“...I know. Sorry. I just don’t like looking at it is all.”

That last part at least was true. It was of little comfort though, given the rest of what he was hiding.

The hand on his shoulder gave a gentle pat before falling away.

“You worry too much, you know? Everything will be fine, promise. And like I said, if we come across something we aren’t ready for, you can just use Zoom to get us out of here. There’s no shame in running away if we need to.”

There was a lot of truth in that. Maybe if Eleven simply held on to that fact, he could make it through this without worrying too much. The purpose of the trials was to become stronger after all, not to rush in, get overwhelmed, and be killed. If he went in with the mentality that they would pull out immediately if things got too dangerous, then he could probably manage, especially since that call would be his to make.

He could do this.

He could keep them all safe.

“Thanks, Erik.”

“No problem. Now come on, or we’ll be left behind.”

As the two of them began trudging through the snow after their companions, Eleven allowed himself just a little bit of optimism. Maybe he really was overthinking everything. Maybe what happened in the future was tainting his perception of what was happening now. They had already made it through several difficult battles, and together the eight of them were strong. They had a good plan and a good strategy for approaching things this time, and this really could end up being a decent test to see where they were at, to see how strong they had become and what else they still needed to work on.

And if they got in over their heads, they would run.

Perfect.

He could definitely do this.

Everything would be fine.

It would be fine.

Several hours later—several hours of monster battles, dead ends, pitfalls (courtesy of a recreated Cryptic Crypt), and just all-around, good old-fashioned walking—Eleven was seriously beginning to doubt his ability to “do this.”

He was getting tired. They were all getting tired.

Some of the monsters roaming about through the trial were a lot stronger than the ones up above. The Trial of the Disciple was supposed to be the easiest out of the three, and yet just trekking through it and only fighting when necessary had been enough to exhaust them.

And the worst part was that they weren’t done yet.

Prior to entering the trials, Eleven had felt a little like he had seen it all—every magical, mythical, and otherworldly thing that Erdrea could possibly have to offer. Eventually there comes a point where the unexpected is no longer unexpected, where strange, fantastical things are no longer surprising, where a person gains enough understanding or knowledge or maybe just cynicism to simply take everything in stride and no longer be mesmerized by the world around them.

A part of him is grateful that he hasn’t quite reached that point yet.

Standing before them is Drustan.

Drustan, a hero of legend, the ancient warrior king, one of Erdwin’s companions. Even though both Morcant and Serenica had also still been alive to some degree, seeing him standing there was still a bit of a shock.

And his reason for being there, for staying behind, for cleaving his soul from his body and binding it to this labyrinth?

The Luminary. He had done it to aid the next Luminary in case the Dark One were to ever return.

Serenica, Morcant, Drustan... None of them had been able to rest. All of them had remained behind, still tied to the world, just waiting in one way or another, waiting for him to finish what they had started.

Morcant’s soul had found peace in the end. He hoped that once Calasmos was gone, both Drustan and Serenica would be able to find peace too.

But before any of that...

“The labyrinth was made in such a way that the strength of any entering might be sorely tested. Thou hast passed that test, and shalt be rewarded accordingly...when thou hast overcome the final trial. If thou art to conquer the Dark One, thou must needs begin by besting the most insidious foe of all—thine own fear. Prevail in this endeavor, and none shall stand in thy path.”

...They had a trial to finish.

“It is not a trial to be taken lightly,” Drustan said, the warning obvious in his voice. “Prepare thyself, Luminary, and when thou art ready, pray, speak with me again.”

This wasn’t going to be easy. They were running low on supplies. They had just enough magic waters and elfin elixirs to top everyone off, but that was it, and unfortunately there wasn’t much that could be done about the exhaustion. They would simply have to hope for the best, would have to rely on support spells to replace the energy that they had lost while trekking through the labyrinth. Hopefully that would be enough. It had to be. They didn’t really have any other options.

They had come this far; there was no sense in pulling out now (a part of him still wanted to though, was still worried, but the backlash he would receive from doing so just wasn’t worth it). He wasn’t sure exactly what Drustan meant by “thine own fear,” but at the very least he needed to try.

After going over their strategy one more time and making sure everyone understood their roles, as well as understanding how those roles would change depending on the type of enemy (or enemies) they would face, Eleven made his way back to Drustan.

“Well, Luminary? Art thou ready to face thine innermost demons and prove thy strength?”

With more confidence than he actually felt, he gave a quiet “yes” and tightened his grip on both the swords in his hands.

“Very well. Then let us begin. A mighty foe shall be summoned—but know this, Luminary. In order to pass the test and earn thy reward, thou must needs fell the fiend in as little time as possible.”

...Well, that was new.

“What?” he asked, understandably confused. “There’s a—you’re giving us a time limit?”

Because things hadn’t been hard enough the way it was.

“It is not enough simply to win,” the man said. “This battle shall test thine abilities, thy strategies, as well as the strength and adaptability of thy fellowship. The only advice I shall give is to not focus on the passing of time. If thy teamwork is sufficient, then thou shalt succeed without difficulty.”

Eleven swallowed thickly. He wasn’t expecting something like this. He didn’t know what kind of reward Drustan was offering, but he was certain it would be helpful. He was also pretty sure that if they couldn’t manage this—the first trial—that they stood no chance of completing the other two.

That they stood no chance of stopping Calasmos.

“Now, let battle commence! Turn and face thine opponent, Luminary.”

With a deep breath, Eleven did his best to calm his nerves and turned around, moving towards the head of their group where he belonged and getting into position. He could see everyone else doing the same, could see Veronica, Serena, Rab, and Sylvando falling back while Hendrik, Jade, and Erik all stepped forward and drew their weapons. Drustan had made it sound like it would be a single enemy, so that’s what he was going to bank on. Single targets were easier to deal with, with of course a few exceptions. Large enemies could cause a lot of damage to several of them without much effort, and fast enemies made it difficult to get any decent hits in. Fast enemies could also be extremely lethal, could catch someone off guard if they weren’t prepared. He wasn’t sure what they would be facing, but he needed to be ready for anything, needed to be ready to give orders and adapt if necessary.

On the pathway before them, close to the door they had entered from, a cloud of dark smoke began to form. As he watched it swirl and move and take shape, Eleven raised his blades, ready to either charge in or stand his ground and block depending on what emerged from the darkness.

...But when an armored leg stepped out of the smoke, followed by a skeletal frame, a tattered cloak, and a single glowing purple eye, every part of him froze.

For a moment it felt like his heart had stopped.

No...

There was no way...

That was impossible, surely...

...And yet there was no mistaking the monster that stood before them.

An armored skeleton with a broken horned helmet, two long broadswords, and an orb in his right eye socket.

Tyriant.

Their opponent was a Spectral Sentinel, and the implications of that were not lost on him as everything in him seized, his breath catching in his lungs as he whipped his head back to look at Drustan in slowly mounting horror.

The man was simply watching him with a stoic expression on his face.

Earlier, Eleven had been wondering if whoever was behind the trials, whoever was in control of the magic, somehow knew about what he had done, the things he had gone through, the world he had left behind. He had done his best to brush it off, to ignore that feeling in the back of his mind, but there was no way for him to ignore it now.

He knew.

Drustan knew.

He—

“Eleven!”

He turned to see the shadow of Tyriant launch himself forward, covering the distance between them in an instant with both swords raised. Eleven had just enough time to bring his own the rest of the way up to block the attack.

A shock ran down his arms as their blades collided.

One thing that Eleven had always liked about fighting with a sword was that it was easy to gauge an opponent’s strength just from feeling the force against his blade, from the pressure bearing down on him. Back when Hendrik was still an enemy and the two of them had fought in Dundrasil, it had only taken a few blows from the knight’s greatsword for him to realize that he was sorely outclassed.

When he had first fought Tyriant in the ruins of Heliodor Castle, the two of them had more or less been evenly matched. Tyriant had been faster than him, sure—had been able to block several of his strikes with very adept bladework—but the weight against his blades hadn’t been enough to force him back or knock him down.

That wasn’t the case this time.

He felt the magic of Buff wrap around him just in time for him to be overpowered, for his block to be broken and an armored foot to come crashing into his stomach. The force of the kick sent him back several feet before he hit the ground hard, the wind completely knocked out of him as he lay there coughing.

This wasn’t good. Not even ten seconds into the fight and he was already down. Part of that had been his own fault. He shouldn’t have taken his eyes off the enemy, shouldn’t have allowed his panic and his fear to take over. If he had been paying attention, he might’ve been able to dodge, but...somehow, he wasn’t entirely sure about that. This shadow was a lot faster and significantly stronger than the Tyriant he had faced. He needed to get back on his feet now, before something else happened.

Seeing their leader get knocked to the ground was apparently what kicked everyone else into motion. There hadn’t been time to help him before because they had all been pretty evenly spaced out across the battlefield, but thankfully Serena had managed to cast Buff, had made a split-second decision to focus entirely on him and raise his defenses as high as she could since he had been the one in immediate danger. He would have to thank her later. She might’ve just saved his life with that.

He felt the magic of Oomphle and Acceleratle wrap around him, giving him the strength he needed to start pushing himself up off the ground. He heard the sound of metal clashing as he watched Hendrik and Jade engage the shadow, blocking him from advancing on Eleven’s prone position. Tyriant was relentless, however, his strikes pointed and swift. Hendrik was forced to defend with his shield, and despite being quick, most of Jade’s strikes were either blocked or parried.

Off to the side, he could see Erik trying to place an earth sigil. That’s what Eleven had told him to do at the beginning of the fight. However, he hadn’t known what kind of opponent they would be facing, and Tyriant had several abilities that would make this fight that much harder to deal with. When the skeleton turned his head and that single glowing eye settled on the thief, the Luminary knew what was about to happen.

“Erik, look out!” he called in warning just as the purple orb began to glow brightly and a mass of darkness separated itself from the skeleton, materializing into a second Tyriant as it charged towards Erik with both blades raised.

“What?!” he cried in surprise, but thankfully he got over his shock in time to dodge, rolling out of the way before getting back to his feet in a single motion. He drew his daggers, clearly abandoning his original task in favor of fending off the shadow. He was going to need help though. Eleven needed to get back to his feet and quickly. He cast a quick healing spell on himself to help with some of the pain and then forced himself back up before picking up his two blades.

Jade and Hendrik would be alright for a little while. He needed to get rid of the shadow and then join them. If they all ganged up on Tyriant, they might be able to overpower him.

As he rushed forward to help Erik, he quickly took stock of where everyone was at with their respective tasks. Originally he had been hoping that Sylvando would be able to join them on the frontline, but it was becoming apparent that the three primary support spells—Kabuff, Acceleratle, and Oomphle—were necessary to have up at all times if they wanted to have any success at winning this. He had told Veronica and Rab to forgo casting Magic Barrier and Insulatle respectively unless they were needed, to focus only on what the two of them believed was necessary. While Tyriant could cast magic if memory served, he was more of a physical fighter, so things like Kabuff and Acceleratle were the most important supports to have active.

Unfortunately, that meant that Serena and Sylvando would have to dedicate most of their focus to making sure neither of those spells’ effects ever fully wore off, which would give them very little time to do anything else. Rab would have to focus entirely on healing, leaving all offensive spellcasting to Veronica when she wasn’t busy casting Oomphle or de-buffing the enemy.

As Eleven clashed swords with the shadow (a shadow of a shadow, really), he realized that this was bad.

This was really bad.

They had gone into this fight tired, having trekked through the Snærfelt, the Cryptic Crypt, and the Eerie Eyrie while fighting off several monsters before arriving here. Sure, they had been able to restock some of their supplies at the Watcher’s village, but they had used all of it just trying to get this far. They had nothing left.

Once everyone’s strength and magic ran out, that was it. No more healing, no more supports, no more spells.

He wasn’t sure if they could win like that, let alone within whatever time limit Drustan had set.

He needed a plan, and when he and Erik managed to strike down the shadow (they had always been weaker than Tyriant himself) only for the skeleton to immediately create another, he realized that he needed a plan and fast.

Especially when that shadow ignored him and Erik completely and charged towards the backline instead.

“Dammit,” he heard Erik hiss under his breath as the two of them started running. Erik had always been faster than him, so it made sense that the thief would intercept the shadow first, barring its path and preventing it from reaching their spellcasters. He effortlessly dodged a wide swing and was able to duck under another, getting in close to land a few blows before backing away. He had always been good at that, at knowing exactly how much damage he could do without putting himself in too much danger, always giving himself enough time to get out of the way and avoid an attack. Tyriant’s shadows might’ve been weaker than the monster himself, but they were still formidable, and taking a blow from one would still be dangerous, could still prove to be fatal in the end.

Having one on the field at all times was problematic. They needed to focus on taking down Tyriant, but they couldn’t just ignore his shadow, and to make matters worse, destroying the shadows wouldn’t really do them any good since he could simply create another one in its place.

Eleven needed to do something. He needed a plan, or they were eventually going to lose.

He needed a plan that would let them win this with minimal risk and as quickly as possible.

A last-ditch effort if you will, not because of the time limit (he could care less about a reward when their lives were at stake), but because he knew they simply couldn’t last in a drawn-out fight.

There was really only one option available to them.

“Erik!” he called. “Will you be able to hold him off on your own for just a bit? I have a plan!”

His friend glanced back at him, obviously curious, before dodging another sword swing and countering with a few well-placed strikes of his own, only to be forced to move out of the way again when the shadow tried to stab at him.

“Yeah, I can manage!” he called back. “Just hurry, okay?”

“I will, promise!”

He took one brief moment to look across the field, to see Jade and Hendrik still doing their best to hold off Tyriant with Rab having moved in to fully support them, before he turned and ran towards Veronica and Serena. Thankfully the two of them were close together; that was generally how they fought during battles. It would save him some time, and it was to the point where every second counted. He just hoped this would be enough.

He could see Veronica opening her mouth to probably scold him or ask him what he thought he was doing, but he was quick to cut her off.

“I need to talk to you,” he said in the best leader voice he could manage. “To both of you.”

Something in his tone must have told her that this was important, that there simply wasn’t time to berate him or question him, because Veronica immediately snapped her mouth shut, her expression falling into something less frustrated and more serious.

“What is it?” she asked, getting right to the point, which he could appreciate since they needed to get this conversation over with quickly.

“That spell the two of you have been working on,” he began, cutting right to the chase, “if I bought you enough time, would you be able to cast it?”

The two identical looks of disbelief that question earned him would’ve been amusing if the situation weren’t so dire.

“What?” Veronica asked, gaping at him with wide eyes. “Are...are you serious? You know we’ve never actually used it before, right? We don’t even know if it’ll really work the way we want it to. Plus, you realize that if we do use it and it doesn’t kill that thing, we’ll both be out of magic. We won’t be able to help anymore at all!”

He knew that. He had already weighed the consequences.

“I’m aware of the risks,” he said with as much conviction as he could, as much as he had. He watched as a myriad of emotions played out on their faces, from incredulity to doubt to worry and finally to a sort of wary resignation and acceptance.

“...You really think this is the best solution?” Serena asked quietly.

He knew he owed them an explanation. There wasn’t time to say everything he wanted, to put into words everything that had been going through his head (he was still trying to get over the fact that Drustan knew in addition to everything else that had happened), but he knew he needed to give them something, to show them why this was the only option available to them.

“Everyone’s tired,” he said, the words rushed but honest. “We used up all of our supplies just getting here. Tyr—t-this thing will just keep making a new shadow every time we get rid of one, and it’s taking all Jade and Hendrik have just to hold him back, let alone landing any blows powerful enough to start causing actual damage...”

He swallowed a bit thickly. Having it in his head was a bit different from saying it out loud.

“I don’t...I don’t know if we can outlast him.”

He glanced over to where Drustan was standing, stoically watching the battle play out, his expression completely unreadable. Eleven didn’t know the exact nature of the trials, what all was truly at risk. He wanted to believe that Drustan wouldn’t let them die, that he would stop the battle if it looked like something terrible was about to happen, but he didn’t know if that would really be the case or not. Maybe he wouldn’t let Eleven die since he was the Luminary and all, but what about everyone else? What about his friends?

If one of them was about to be killed, would he stop the battle?

Eleven didn’t know.

He didn’t know, and so he couldn’t rely on that being the case. He needed a way to get them out of this. More so than finishing the battle in the designated time limit, he was going with this plan because it had the highest chance of ending things with minimal injury and the fewest risks.

“...Alright,” said Veronica, drawing his attention back to the twins. Much of their earlier wariness was gone, replaced with a quiet kind of resolve. Veronica had always had a lot of faith in herself, in both hers and Serena’s abilities. It made sense that she would be willing to give it a try, that she could see what was happening with the battle and shove her doubts aside. “Alright, let’s do it.”

“Thank you,” he said, giving them both a small smile. “We’ll buy you as much time as you need. Serena, cast one more Kabuff, and then conserve the rest of your magic. I can help out with healing if needed.”

“Alright,” she said with a nod as she began to cast her last support spell of the battle. Hopefully it would last long enough for them to finish this.

“And then I need the two of you to promise me something.”

“...What is it?” Veronica asked, some of her earlier skepticism returning.

Taking a deep breath, Eleven tried to steady himself. He tried, but despite his best efforts, he could feel his hands starting to shake. He tightened his grip around his swords to keep them still, and even though it worked to an extent, it didn’t help with the pit of anxiety that had slowly been opening in his stomach ever since the battle began.

Veronica was right to be skeptical given what he was about to ask, but there was nothing else for it.

This was all he had.

“I need you to promise that no matter what happens, you’ll focus only on this—on casting this spell—and nothing else.”

The two sets of eyes looking back at him weren’t identical this time. One was full of shock while the other was downright furious. He knew what Veronica’s response would be before she even opened her mouth.

Eleven could feel the hilts of his two swords digging into his palms as his knuckles turned bone white.

They didn’t have time for this.

“You can’t be serious!”

They didn’t have time for this.

“What if that thing’s about to kill one of you?!”

He didn’t have—

“We are not just going to stand by and—”

Time for—

“Let you die, you complete idi—”

(In that moment, something within him broke).

...He couldn’t do this anymore.

He just couldn’t do this anymore. The fear that he had been trying to hold back this entire time began to spill out, and as a desperate “please!” escaped his lips, Veronica’s mouth snapped shut.

Ever since the moment they first arrived here—ever since he set foot in the “Snærfelt” and saw that dark sky hanging overhead, Eleven had been doing his best to ignore everything, to shove it all back and keep it buried. He had been trying to put on a brave face and push through even though a part of him had been screaming that this was a mistake, that he wasn’t ready yet, that they should have waited before coming here because a single lapse in judgment could get them all killed—but after trying so hard for so long, he just couldn’t anymore.

He took yet another deep breath, tried to force it all back down again only to fail, and came to the decision that just this once, with these two people who had sacrificed so much for him—more than they even knew, than they would probably ever know—he would be honest.

He would be honest and explain why he was asking this of them.

“I didn’t want to come here,” he said, and unlike every lie he had tried to tell, every attempt at avoiding the truth, the words flowed seamlessly from his lips as he finally gave voice to the fear that weighed so heavily on his heart. “I wanted to wait until we were stronger, until we’d all had a chance to learn a few more techniques, a few more spells and abilities, and until the two of you had enough time to actually practice this, to master it. I wanted to wait until we could do the trials without having to worry about getting in over our heads, because you would possibly have a way to get us out of it. I wanted to wait, but you all wanted to come here, and I didn’t know how to say no—that I wasn’t ready yet—without making all of you think that I was afraid or incompetent or that I didn’t believe in you or...o-or...”

It was the worst possible place for it, in the middle of a battle where everyone was risking their lives—Erik had asked him to hurry, and here he was having some sort of breakdown instead—but despite all of that, despite everything that was going on, Serena stepped forward, threw her arms around him, and pulled him into a hug.

He was being hugged in the middle of a battlefield.

There was a first time for everything apparently.

“Oh, El... We would never think that,” she said with tears in her voice. “I’m so sorry.”

...He wasn’t exactly sure what he had been expecting their response to be after dumping so much onto them, but after spending so long convincing himself that he needed to be strong, that he couldn’t let his hesitation or insecurity show, he was pretty sure that acceptance wasn’t it. In hindsight, perhaps it should’ve been.

Eleven heaved a deep sigh and relaxed just a bit as some of the tension that he had been carrying with him for the entirety of the day finally vanished. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad after all, letting people in, letting them see just a little of the part of him that was broken.

The healer slowly pulled away, releasing him from the unexpected but definitely not unwelcome embrace, and where he expected to see sympathy in her eyes, he found determination instead.

“You can count on us,” she told him with a great deal of conviction, and in that moment he was reminded of the other Serena, a young woman who had lost so much but had done everything in her power to remain strong, who had found resolve even amidst her heartbreak. “We won’t let you down. Right, Veronica?”

“Of course,” the fiery mage agreed, her earlier frustration with him gone, and in its place was something else, something he couldn’t quite place but that looked just a little like understanding or pride. “We are supposed to protect you, after all—and after coming this far, we certainly aren’t going to fail now.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Thank you, both of you.” Gripping his blades tightly, he turned back towards the battlefield. “We’ll buy you as much time as you need.”

“Alright,” Veronica told him as she pulled out the necklace that was integral to making this work. “I’m still not great at using this thing yet, but I’ll try to hurry it up. Just don’t do anything stupid, alright?”

“I’ll try not to.”

It wasn’t exactly a promise, but it was the best he could give, and with nothing left to say, he threw himself back into the fight.

He arrived just in time to see Erik strike down the shadow with a little help from Sylvando (that was yet another thing he liked about his party, that they didn’t always need to be told what to do, that sometimes they just knew what had to be done).

“You’re a little late,” the thief told him, though the words were said in good humor.

“Sorry.”

“So, your plan?”

Right. It was good that Sylvando was also present since he needed to tell him as well.

“Veronica and Serena are going to cast that spell they’ve been working on, the one that releases all of their remaining magic. That should be enough to end this.”

To their credit, neither of them seemed too skeptical. They probably wouldn’t yell at him (like Veronica) at the very least.

“You’re sure that’s the best move?” Erik asked.

“It’s the best we’ve got. Jade and Hendrik have been holding the monster back, but that’s all they’ve been able to do. If we had more supplies, maybe we could last long enough to take him down normally, but we used everything we had just getting here. This is our best chance at winning this.”

It thankfully took less time to convince Erik and Sylvando that his crazy plan would work than it had the twins, probably because the entirety of it wasn’t hinging on the two of them. He knew he was placing a great deal of pressure on Veronica and Serena, but he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t think they were capable. He knew they could do this. They just needed a little time.

“Sylvando,” he began, “I need you to focus on casting Acceleratle and Decelerate, and then place Remoreheal on Hendrik and Jade. Don’t worry about casting Oomphle for now. All we need to do is hold on long enough and keep him away from Veronica and Serena.”

“You got it, honey!”

He watched as the jester ran to join the twins, where he would be able to cast spells but also keep an eye out for anything heading towards them. Under no circumstances could anything be allowed to interrupt them while they were casting.

With that taken care of, he turned to Erik, and from the corner of his eye he saw another shadow emerge from Tyriant and start charging towards them.

“Let’s go,” he said, readying his swords for another fight.

“You got it, partner.”

Despite everything, he couldn’t help but smile at that. Some things just never changed, and so with Erik at his side and a promise at his back, Eleven rushed forward and threw himself into the fray.

They only needed to hold out for a few more minutes.

Surely they could manage just a few minutes.

He was a little worried about Hendrik and Jade, about how the two of them were managing, but someone had to take care of the shadows, and he and Erik were currently the only ones who could. However, as his blades clashed with the doppelganger’s, he began to wonder if maybe he could actually handle them himself. The force pushing against him was nowhere near as overpowering, and while he had known that the shadows weren’t as strong as Tyriant, he had been expecting something a little more. Instead he was able to match it blow for blow, and with Erik’s help, the battle was won quickly.

When another shadow came charging forward, Eleven made a decision.

“Erik, go help Hendrik and Jade,” he said. “I can take care of the shadows.”

“Are you sure?” There was that skepticism again.

“These things aren’t as strong as I thought they’d be, so I should be okay. Let the two of them know what the plan is. We need to start pushing that thing closer to where Veronica and Serena are if we want this to work.”

“...Alright.”

It was obvious that he didn’t want to leave, but in the end he did what Eleven had asked and ran towards the rest of their party while the Luminary remained behind to deal with the current shadow and any more that might come his way. He had told Veronica and Serena that he would buy them time and keep the monster away, and that’s exactly what he planned to do.

He clashed blades with the newest shadow and was happy to find that its strength was the same as the previous one. As long as he stayed focused and didn’t allow himself to waste time glancing around the battlefield, he could manage on his own. He just needed to stay on task, to dedicate himself to fighting off the shadows and nothing else.

He could do this.

...Unfortunately, dedicating oneself to one task and one task alone meant blocking out everything else. It meant ignoring what was going on around him, and when he finished off the shadow only to see another heading his way, he failed to notice several things.

He didn’t notice that the monster charging towards him was a lot more solid than a shadow.

He didn’t notice that it was faster.

And because he had chosen not to check on them, he didn’t notice Jade suddenly pushing back “Tyriant” with relative ease or see the look of shock on her face as realization dawned.

He didn’t notice any of it.

...But thankfully he heard it.

“Eleven! That one’s not a shadow! He’s the—”

Jade’s voice reached him right before the monster did, and he had just enough time to firm up his stance and raise his blades higher, putting all of his strength into absorbing the blow and blocking, before those two long broadswords came crashing down onto him.

Knowing it was coming didn’t make taking the blow any easier. Thankfully his knees didn’t buckle under the force (even though they clearly wanted to), and although the pressure against his blades was just as powerful as the last time, he managed to hold his ground.

However...

As the thing that looked like Tyriant continued to push down against him, Eleven heard quite possibly one of the worst sounds a swordfighter could hear in the middle of a battle.

The sound of metal breaking.

He glanced at his Fizzle Foil (because it wasn’t going to be the Sword of Light), and saw a crack slowly forming where Tyriant’s blade was pressing down against it.

It hadn’t been his best work. He had known that, but it had been the most he could manage with the resources available and the time he’d been given. He had thought it would be good enough. Everything he forged usually was.

He’d been wrong.

He needed to get away, needed to escape the deadlock he was currently in, but it was taking everything he had just to hold the monster back, let alone break his stance so that he could run.

He needed help, and thankfully he received it. All of a sudden he felt the magic of Oomphle flow through him, giving him just enough strength to push the monster back, breaking his stance and allowing Eleven to back away.

He had told Sylvando not to bother casting Oomphle, to focus on everything else instead. He was rather grateful that his friend had chosen to ignore him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be enough. One of his blades was cracked. He needed to run.

But Tyriant was faster.

In no time at all, the monster recovered and closed the distance once more, raising his twin blades high.

Expecting another strike similar to the first, Eleven had no choice but to raise both of his swords and pray that his Fizzle Foil could take one more hit. He positioned them in such a way that even if it couldn’t, the Sword of Light would hopefully be able to make up the difference and absorb the rest of the blow.

...It was in that moment that he realized he had made a mistake.

He had made a grave mistake.

From the very beginning of the battle, he had been referring to the creature as “Tyriant” in his head, but at the same time he had still been treating him like something else, a mere shadow of the monster he had fought—less sentient, less intelligent, just more powerful.

He should’ve known not to make that assumption. He had underestimated the doppelganger.

He should’ve remembered that Tyriant excelled at dual wielding.

Both swords did not come crashing down on him. Instead it was only one, and it was swung with full force and absolute perfect aim.

It connected with his Fizzle Foil, connected at the exact point where the worst of the breakage was.

(It really hadn’t been his best work).

The sword shattered, breaking into several sparkling shards, and as the force pressing down against him and the weight in his hand both disappeared, he got knocked off balance and was unable to prepare for the second blade that was still raised above him.

...This was supposed to be a trial.

This was meant to be a trial, so surely he couldn’t die from this.

Surely if they were about to lose, if one of them were about to be killed, Drustan would stop the battle. The whole point was to become stronger—strong enough to defeat the Dark One—and they couldn’t do that if they were all dead.

Surely he wouldn’t let them die or almost die or come close to dying. Surely if they got too hurt or were about to be fatally injured, he would end the trial.

Surely he would end the trial.

There was no way he would—

The second blade descended.

It tore into his right arm, cutting a deep, bloody gash from his shoulder to his wrist.

The Sword of Light slipped from his fingers as they became coated in red.

...Oh.

Oh.

He had been right after all.

He knew they never should’ve come here.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: A Close Call

...Maybe they had made a mistake.

It was possible that they might’ve made a mistake.

That was the thought that flooded Erik’s mind as he left Eleven on his own to fend off the shadow and made his way over to help Jade and Hendrik.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to turn out.

Yesterday, when they had confronted their leader about heading back to Zwaardsrust and attempting the trials, he had been all for it. Several good points had been brought up about it being a decent test to see where they were at, to see how far they had come and how much farther they still needed to go if they were to have any hope of beating Calasmos. Jade in particular had been rather passionate about trying, believing that they were ready, that they could handle it so long as they all stood together. The eight of them fought well as a group; their strategies were sound and their teamwork was solid, and so it had made sense to give it a try. Hendrik had been a bit hesitant about the idea, but he had gone with them anyway to see Eleven, and while he hadn’t offered anything to support them, he hadn’t been able to refute Jade’s reasoning either.

And in the end, the Luminary had agreed to zoom them all back to Zwaardsrust in the morning, after a good night’s rest and a bit of preparation.

Erik had been pretty optimistic at first. However, that feeling had started to wane the further along they went in the trial. He’s pretty sure that none of them had been expecting the monsters to be quite as strong as they were, or for there to be so many. He was also pretty sure that none of them had been expecting to have to walk for as long as they did, trekking through familiar albeit magically generated landscapes with no campsites, no places to rest, and nowhere to renew their supplies. Sure, there was the Watcher village, but that involved backtracking, and what was the point in that? It wouldn’t have made sense to go back only to have to go through the entire trial again. It was impossible to make any progress that way.

The only choice had been to press on and try their best, because as long as their supplies never actually ran out, they had no reason to retreat. They just needed to be more careful, more strategic, more together with their techniques and abilities. The challenge would make them stronger in the long run, surely...

...He wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

If it had just been the walking and the monsters, that would’ve been fine. Even one more final battle at the end after meeting Drustan would’ve been fine.

What wasn’t fine was the situation they had found themselves in, facing down a creature that was faster, stronger, and capable of making a copy of itself at will while the eight of them had no more magic-restoring supplies, no way to retreat, and to top it all off, a completely ridiculous time limit.

How was that even remotely fair?

What could they possibly do in a situation like this? How were they meant to win?

Eleven had thankfully come up with an answer, but it was a gamble. He was betting everything on Veronica and Serena and their ability to pull off a magical technique that neither of them had ever used before. There was a lot of potential for things to go wrong, but there was nothing else for it. This was the only path available to them. In a battle of endurance, he wasn’t sure if they could hold out. Sure, Hendrik and Jade were managing on their own, but they weren’t making much progress, and as well as they were doing, all it would take to change things was one lucky hit from the enemy. The longer the battle continued, the more likely that would be to happen.

They needed to end this as quickly as they possibly could, because it was too late to do anything else, too late to pull out or run away. This was what they got for underestimating something that they had known would be dangerous.

They had made a mistake, and he should’ve realized it sooner. The signs had all been there.

He had tried to be optimistic, to be confident, but he should’ve known.

The moment he saw Eleven standing in the “Snærfelt,” looking pale and shaken and staring up at a sky covered in shadows as if he had just stepped into a nightmare, Erik should’ve known that they had made a mistake.

It was too late for that now though. All he could do was have faith that their plan would work and play his part to help ensure that it did.

And his current job was to help Jade and Hendrik, no matter his reservations about leaving Eleven behind, so that’s what he would do. They had been fighting on their own for a while now, and it was about time that someone lent them a hand. Together, the three of them could probably start forcing the monster in the direction that they needed him to go, since in order for this to work, they had to get him closer to the twins. Their best chance at making it out of this alive was for him to be hit with the full force of Veronica and Serena’s magic, which was definitely easier said than done.

However, Erik was willing to do whatever it took to make sure this succeeded.

Because after all, this was all they had.

As he ran towards the battle, he watched Jade and Hendrik block and parry several rapid strikes from the skeleton. The monster was relentless, his movements unhindered by things like stamina or fatigue. Maybe he was incapable of getting tired, of running out of strength. Maybe whatever weird magic had been used to create him had removed those kinds of limitations (yet one more thing about this challenge that was completely unfair). If that truly was the case, then ending this quickly was definitely in their best interest.

Unfortunately, he could tell that Jade and Hendrik were getting tired, their movements a lot slower than what he was used to seeing—especially from Jade—and Erik ended up arriving just in time to see the princess take a rather hard hit and get knocked to the ground. Hendrik was quick to move in front of the monster to block it from advancing on her, but he wouldn’t be able to last on his own for too long. He could only take so much of a beating, no matter how impressive that shield of his was.

The thief quickly knelt down next to the wounded princess, grabbing her arms as she slowly began to get up from the ground.

“You okay?” he asked as he helped her back to her feet. The fact that she didn’t immediately pull away and try to stand on her own was a testament to how tired she had to be (Jade was usually the one helping others up, not the other way around). There were a few shallow cuts on her arms and legs, not to mention a few bruises, but thankfully he could see them slowly closing up and fading away, courtesy of Sylvando’s Remoreheal.

“I’m fine,” she said, though her words did nothing to hide her exhaustion, “but this thing is relentless. I feel like we’ve barely made any progress at all.”

“El has a plan,” he told her, which immediately caught her interest. “We need to try and move that thing towards Serena and Veronica. They’re going to use that spell they’ve been working on.”

Her eyes widened in shock. He couldn’t exactly blame her.

“You mean that magical burst thing that Veronica came up with? But they’ve barely had a chance to practice it yet.”

“I know,” he said, because he did, “but this is our best chance at getting out of this.”

To her credit, Jade looked more worried than skeptical. However, after trading blows with the monster for several minutes, she obviously knew just how strong he was, how much it would take for all of them to bring him down. There was no way she wouldn’t see the logic in Eleven’s plan, and sure enough, she gave a short sigh before bending down and picking her spear up off the ground (she had both of her weapons with her, but a spear was definitely better when facing down a creature that excelled at swordplay).

“Alright,” she said. “I suppose it’s the only option we have.”

Perfect. The first part of his task was more or less complete. Now it was time to get down to business.

“El said he could handle the shadows,” he told her, “so I’m with the two of you for now. What do you need me to do?”

Jade looked across the battlefield to where Eleven was fighting the shadow before her eyes went back to the monster and Hendrik.

“If our goal is just to force him towards Veronica and Serena, then I think the three of us should be able to lure him in that direction easily enough. He’s fast though, so we’ll have to be careful...oh!” The sudden exclamation caught him a little off guard as she suddenly whipped her head around to look at him. “Erik, try to cast a sigil. I know you were interrupted before, but I don’t think he can make more than one copy at a time. With Hendrik and I keeping him busy, you should have enough time to place one.”

An earth sigil would definitely slow that thing down. They’d probably have an easier time dodging attacks with one active. It was a good idea.

“Alright.”

With a plan sort of in place, Jade moved to rejoin Hendrik while Erik hung back and focused. Casting always took time unfortunately, but all he needed to do was place his spell before the monster noticed what he was doing. He had no doubt that it would push through Jade and Hendrik and try to rush him if it realized, just like how it had sent a shadow after him earlier.

He just needed to focus.

...When this was over, once all of them were safe and the battle was finished, he needed to apologize to Eleven, because some of this was Erik’s fault. He hadn’t meant for this to happen.

The Luminary hadn’t really said as much when they had confronted him yesterday, but he got the feeling that El had wanted to wait before coming here. Every time the trials had been brought up, he had tried to avoid the subject. He’d been hesitant to discuss it, always pushing the topic aside, and looking back, it was pretty obvious that he had been nervous. Maybe he had even been afraid. It was hard to tell sometimes.

Ever since the Lantern fell, something in Eleven had changed. His confidence had been shaken. He was more cautious, was less likely to rush into things—and both of those traits were good, of course, but at the same time there was more to it than that, an underlying anxiety that hadn’t been there before. It was as if he had started to doubt himself, to lose faith in his abilities despite everything he had managed to accomplish.

It felt a little like he had stopped believing in himself.

That was why Erik had been so onboard with taking on the trials, why he had said what he did. He had wanted to try and boost El’s confidence, to show him that he didn’t need to worry so much, that things would be fine so long as they all stood together with him. He was their Luminary, and they all believed in him. Making it through the trials would surely bring back some of what he had lost, would prove to him that he didn’t need to be so nervous about the task that lay before him. Sure, saving the world wasn’t going to be easy, and overconfidence was a recipe for disaster, but fear and doubt were just as crippling, just as destructive.

Erik had wanted to help him, to support him, just like he always did.

But coming here had been a mistake. Eleven had been right to be wary.

They hadn’t been ready for this.

And so he would be sure to apologize later for the part he had played in coercing him, but for now he just needed to focus.

Unfortunately, while concentrating solely on his task, he failed to see that single glowing purple eye glance over at him. Instead his attention was on the battle as he waited for the right moment to cast his spell. He watched as Jade blocked both blades with her spear, watched as the skeleton effortlessly stepped out of the way of Hendrik’s axe. Those twin blades crashed against the knight’s shield, then blocked a piercing strike from Jade only to be brought down violently once again against the shaft of her spear.

There!

That was it, the moment he had been waiting for.

However, focusing so intently on the battle in front of him meant that he hadn’t paid any attention to the one happening off to the side.

He didn’t see Eleven finish off the shadow.

Which meant he was already in the middle of casting when he saw the darkness start to cloak the monster. He was pretty sure he knew what was coming, given what had happened the last time he had tried to place a sigil. The shadow would rush him, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to finish in time before it reached him. He needed to either hold his ground and go through with it or abandon his task yet again and prepare to dodge. If he could just place his sigil though, it might interrupt the creation of any more shadows, which would definitely give them an advantage.

In the end, the choice was obvious. El was relying entirely on a gamble to win this. Erik figured he may as well gamble too.

And thankfully it paid off. This time around, he was faster. He saw the familiar flash of his sigil just as the shadow broke off. He had been too late to interrupt its creation unfortunately, but at the very least he had been able to cast his spell. The monster would be hindered moving forward and would likely stay that way long enough for Serena and Veronica to cast their spell.

...However, something strange happened when the shadow broke off. Several strange things happened, in fact.

The first was that the shadow didn’t charge towards him like he thought it would. Instead it began to head for Eleven.

The second was that the moment the shadow broke away, Jade suddenly lurched forward, forcing the monster back several feet, something she had been unable to achieve at any point during their deadlock. It was as if all of a sudden the force pressing against her spear had been halved, as if Rab had managed to get in a critical Blunt spell or something even though he was pretty sure that no magic had been cast. Jade and Hendrik had been unable to brute force their way through previously, had only been able to hold their ground instead of pushing back, and yet now it seemed as if they had the upper hand.

“What just happened?” Jade asked, bewildered as she met the monster blow for blow with ease. “It’s like he suddenly got weaker. What could’ve...?”

...Weaker?

The answer dawned on them both at the same time, and for a moment it felt like his heart had stopped. They both turned their heads towards Eleven to see the skeleton—the real one, dammit, not a shadow, curse this damn trial—charging right towards the Luminary, and while Eleven had his swords raised, he didn’t know.

He was expecting a shadow.

If those blades crashed down on him and he wasn’t ready...

“Eleven!” Jade shouted, her voice carrying that same note of panic that was coursing through Erik. “That one’s not a shadow, he’s the—”

The blades descended, but thankfully Jade’s voice had reached El in time, a flicker of panic crossing the Luminary’s face before he took the full force of the blow. He managed to stay standing, but Erik very distinctly remembered the beginning of the battle, remembered watching his friend get overpowered and knocked to the ground.

Jade and Hendrik didn’t need him to handle a shadow, so instead he ran for Eleven and began to gather his magic once more. His task hadn’t changed. He needed to cast Ridgeraiser—on the real one this time.

He came to a stop and threw his arm out, preparing to cast his spell just as the Luminary managed to break away from the monster. The skeleton immediately closed the distance, however, and once again raised his blades high, forcing Eleven to bring his own up as well in an attempt to block what was coming.

Erik put everything he had into casting.

If he could just place a sigil...

If he could just hinder the monster and buy Eleven just a little more time...

...But in the end, it wasn’t enough. This time around, he wasn’t faster.

And for a moment it felt like the world had stopped.

With a single blow from just one of those blades, the Fizzle Foil in El’s hand shattered.

The clear, metallic sound as his sword broke into pieces felt like a death knell.

And as that second blade descended, tearing deep into the Luminary’s right shoulder and then down his arm, pulling a tortured cry from his lips...

As dark crimson spayed into the air and splattered across the floor and ran in rivulets down pale skin, it suddenly felt like he was drowning, like all the air had been punched from his lungs, like someone had taken one of his daggers and was slowly driving it through his chest.

He couldn’t breathe.

The Sword of Light slipped from El’s fingers and fell to the ground along with so much blood, and Erik felt like he couldn’t breathe.

This was supposed to be a trial, a test, a way to get stronger, a way to better themselves so that they could eventually go and save the world...but El was bleeding, with a wound that was deep and jagged and raw—a wound that could easily kill him if it wasn’t healed immediately.

And to make matters worse, he was completely unarmed in front of a monster that was once again raising its blades.

Wounded as he was, there was no way Eleven would be able to get out of the way.

Erik started running.

He knew he wouldn’t make it in time, but he ran anyway.

And thankfully he wasn’t the only one. Coming from the other side, he could see Jade running as well, her spear completely abandoned as she sprinted towards the Luminary. She was significantly closer, had probably started to move the moment El’s blade had shattered, and she would easily reach him first.

So Erik changed his trajectory just a bit and started running towards the monster instead.

Jade reached Eleven just as the skeleton brought its blades down, throwing herself towards the Luminary, wrapping her arms around him as she tackled him out of the way, her momentum sending both of them crashing to the ground. She turned so that she would hit first, shielding Eleven as they slid several feet away from the monster, its swords crashing against the floor with a loud metallic clang. However, their adversary was relentless and immediately turned to face the two of them, raising those twin blades once again as energy began to gather around them.

A long-ranged attack, an energy wave that travelled across the ground. He had only caught a glimpse of it being used while Jade and Hendrik were fighting, but that had been enough for him to remember what it looked like and how it worked, not to mention how quickly it could travel.

There was no way for Jade to get both herself and Eleven up off the floor and out of the way in time.

Erik pushed himself just a little bit harder and prepared for what he knew he had to do.

This was probably going to hurt.

He didn’t care.

With everything he had, he ran full tilt into the monster, slamming into its very armored side. A sharp pain immediately shot through his right shoulder, but he chose to ignore it, because the important thing was that his plan worked. The monster’s attack was interrupted, throwing off its aim, and even though it managed to bring its blades down, the wave of energy shot off to the side of Eleven and Jade. The blow was even enough to completely knock the skeleton off its feet, sending it crashing to the ground. Unfortunately Erik ended up hitting the ground too, but while still ignoring the pain in his right arm, he managed to use his remaining momentum to turn his fall into a roll and get back on his feet.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Jade kneeling next to Eleven, clearly shaken and panicking as the Luminary continued to bleed out onto the floor.

...This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“You worry too much, you know? Everything will be fine, promise.”

That was what he had told Eleven. That was what Erik had promised him.

And now their leader, their Luminary—their hope and salvation and the person they were supposed to protect above all else, no matter the cost—was lying on the floor bleeding.

...To hell with this.

No more caution, no more playing it safe, no more conserving energy or magic or worrying about having enough time.

He was done.

Erik immediately threw his left arm out, gathered his magic, and completely ignored the monster as it got back to its feet. He ignored it as it charged towards him too, as it raised one of its blades and prepared to strike.

The sigil flashed into place right before the monster swung at him, and thanks to the stone spikes that erupted from the ground, he was able to dodge to the side while suffering nothing more than a light graze against his right arm.

That was fine. His right shoulder already hurt anyway, so a new injury was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. He would manage.

“Erik!” he heard Jade call in worry as the monster turned towards him again, and while its expression hadn’t changed throughout the entirety of the battle, he couldn’t help but think that it looked just a little bit frustrated with this recent turn of events.

He spared a glance towards the princess before drawing only one of his daggers and preparing for what he would have to do next.

“Don’t worry about me!” he called back to her. “Just look after El! He needs to heal himself!” Because Serena couldn’t do it, Rab was likely running low on magic having taken on almost all of the healing himself since the beginning of the battle (not to mention attempting to de-buff the enemy), and while Sylvando and Hendrik were both capable of healing, their skills were more suited to minor injuries.

Nothing about Eleven’s wound was minor.

The Luminary fell somewhere in the middle when it came to magic. He was better at healing than Sylv and Hendrik but not as good as Rab and Serena. It was possible that he wouldn’t be able to heal himself completely, but as long as he could stop the bleeding, that would be enough, and Erik would make damn sure that he was given the time he needed.

He really wanted to check on Veronica and Serena, to see how close they were to being able to cast their spell, but there wasn’t time for that since he knew that a moment’s hesitation could very well be the death of him. He wasn’t strong enough to block a hit from those blades, not with a single dagger, not when he had more than likely fractured or sprained something in his right shoulder. Erik’s greatest asset was his speed, so that’s what he would need to rely on. He didn’t have to attack the skeleton. He just had to survive.

He had always been good at surviving.

All he needed to do was out speed the monster. He could do that.

Probably.

As the skeleton charged towards him, blades swinging, Erik began to slowly move back while dodging out of the way. In addition to keeping the monster’s attention, he also needed to draw it closer to where Veronica and Serena were. The full force of the twin’s spell had to hit it in order to give them the best chance of ending this. He had no idea how much time had passed since Eleven had spoken to them—it was easy to lose track in the heat of battle—but surely they had to be getting close. Surely he only needed to buy just a little more time.

As Ridgeraiser activated, granting him a few precious seconds to catch his breath, he took a quick moment to look over to where both he and Jade had left Hendrik, because he had assumed that the knight would rush over to help them after disposing of the shadow. Needless to say, he was more than a little surprised to see that the man was still fighting with it, but at least that explained why a new one hadn’t been created yet.

However, Hendrik was easily the strongest out of all of them when it came to both swordsmanship and raw power, so it didn’t really make sense as to why he hadn’t killed it yet...until Erik realized that he was very purposely trying not to kill it. The knight wasn’t swinging his axe at all. Instead he was using his shield to block every strike, never parrying or counterattacking. He was trying to not damage it, and in hindsight, the reason for that was obvious.

As long as he kept the shadow alive, the monster couldn’t create another one, and since he was more than a match for it, that meant that the rest of them could focus on the real threat. In fact, he could see Rab leaving the knight to his own devices and trying to make his way closer to where the rest of them were, more than likely in an attempt to get closer to Eleven. He needed to be in range in order to heal him. Hopefully he had enough magic left for that (Rab was wise for the most part, so surely he had to have seen the way that the battle was going, and surely he must have decided to conserve his magic for healing in case anything terrible were to happen. He prayed that was the case).

Erik wanted to check on Eleven, but there simply wasn’t time. He needed to keep the monster as far away from the Luminary as possible.

He dodged out of the way of another sword swing, ducking under the blade and moving back, leading the monster ever closer to the twins.

He just needed to hold on for a little while longer...

He narrowly avoided a long-ranged attack, managed to just step out of the way of a piercing strike, and as one of the monster’s blades came crashing down in front of him, he leapt back right as the tip of the sword struck the ground where he had been standing. This thing was fast, but he was faster. Even without the magic of Acceleratle flowing through him, he was pretty sure he’d still be able to dodge every strike, so long as he focused only on that.

He wondered if the monster was starting to get angry, because it didn’t immediately charge for him again. Instead it just stood there for a moment, its glowing purple eye emitting an eerie light. The thing was unsettling to look at, and if he didn’t know any better, he would say the creature was glaring at him. When it finally took a step forward only to be struck by stone spikes, he got the feeling that it was definitely glaring at him.

That was fine. Let it be mad. It’s not like it could really do anything to him so long as he kept dodging. He could avoid physical attacks, and since this thing had yet to use any magic, he was pretty sure he didn’t need to worry about—

The skeleton crossed its arms over its chest as a dark light began to gather around it, and as it raised its arms up into the air, Erik’s vision was suddenly filled with the purplish light of Kazammle as the spell exploded around him.

Erik hated dark magic.

He really, really hated dark magic. It just didn’t feel like other magic. Instead it felt like a physical blow, like being punched in the stomach, only that feeling would often spread throughout the rest of the body and stay—and unlike the other classes of magic, it could even slip past clothing and armor and sink deep down into the flesh, where it would slowly start to eat away at a person if the damage wasn’t healed in time. That’s what had happened to him in Gondolia. He didn’t particularly care to let it happen again.

Thankfully it seemed that he had gotten lucky this time, and he couldn’t feel the magic lingering against his skin. He likely wouldn’t suffer any lasting damage, but the spell unfortunately had the very inconvenient effect of slowing him down as he tried to catch his breath after being struck. That was all the monster needed. It closed the distance between them in seconds and drew back one of its blades, clearly intending to run him through.

He wasn’t going to be able to move out of the way in time—not even the activation of Ridgeraiser would be able to save him—but that certainly didn’t stop him from trying. He wasn’t about to just stand there and let himself be killed.

Just as the monster was about to attack, Erik caught sight of movement from the corner of his eye, and before he knew what was happening, he heard a sharp crack and watched as the blue-colored rope of the Gringham Whip wound its way around the monster’s arm, restraining it and preventing it from attacking. He quickly looked to the side and saw Sylvando, who was pulling back with everything he had in order to keep the monster from following through on its strike.

“Sylv?!” Needless to say, Erik was a little surprised to see him there. He was supposed to be focusing on casting support spells. “I thought El told you to—”

“I know what he said,” the jester told him through gritted teeth as he focused on keeping hold of his weapon, “but I’m not about to just stand by and let you be skewered!”

Those words would’ve brought a smile to his face if the situation weren’t so dire.

Seriously, Veronica and Serena really needed to hurry—

“Erik!”

Never let it be said that the two of them didn’t have impeccable timing.

He glanced back as Serena called out to him, his eyes landing on the twins. They were both surrounded by tendrils of red and green light, the pure essence of their respective wells of magical power, and he watched as it all gathered into two bright spheres before them.

He would probably never get used to seeing Veronica as an adult.

The magic surrounding them grew brighter and brighter until it suddenly solidified into a glowing white dome around them, covered in brilliant golden runes. He didn’t know the exact mechanics of the spell that the two of them had conceived, had only been able to catch bits and pieces of their musings as they had discussed it with Eleven one night in front of the campfire (his understanding of magic was more instinctual and less practical, both because he had never had the opportunity to learn and because most magical theories went way over his head). However, what he did know was that this spell was risky and a little bit dangerous, that it involved drawing up every bit of magic and then releasing it in a massive burst of power. It was a technique that would drain them both completely. Most mages never allowed themselves to get to that point, because not only was it exhausting, but it would also leave them vulnerable.

If this didn’t work...

No.

He had to believe that it would be enough.

He also very quickly realized that he and Sylvando needed to get out of the way, now—but first they needed to make sure that the monster wouldn’t be able to avoid the attack. Thankfully he had an idea.

Erik very quickly threw his arm out and renewed his earth sigil.

“Sylv, we need to get out of here,” he said with a good amount of urgency in his voice. “Release it and cast Decelerate.”

To his credit, Sylvando didn’t even question him, withdrawing his whip and casting his spell. When the monster immediately tried to attack him, Ridgeraiser activated, knocking its swing off course and giving the jester plenty of time to back away.

Only one more thing to do then.

Erik charged right for the monster, and with all the strength he had left, he once again rammed into it, ignoring the fresh pain that erupted in his right shoulder (he was going to be lectured by Rab and Serena about exacerbating injuries later, he just knew it). Thankfully it wasn’t in vain, and his final attack had the desired effect, knocking the monster over.

There. Now there was no way for it to dodge. There was no way it would be able to avoid the pure explosion of magic that was about to come crashing down on it.

They had won.

He and Sylvando made a mad dash off to the side, getting out of range of the spell that was about to be unleashed.

“Go for it!” he yelled to the twins as soon as they were in the clear.

He saw the two of them nod before closing their eyes in concentrated focus. The magic around them began to glow brighter until he could barely see the two of them amidst its light, but only a second later the massive sphere and the golden runes around it shattered.

For just a moment, it felt like time was standing still.

Then, without warning, a bright light flashed in front of the two sisters, followed by what had to be the largest explosion of magic that Erik had ever seen. The sound of it as the spell erupted was almost deafening, and he watched in awe as a wall of pure magical power destroyed everything in its path, tearing up the beautifully decorated ground as it traveled towards its intended target.

The monster never stood a chance in the face of such a devastating spell.

The magic engulfed it, its haunting form nothing more than a shadow against the light as it was consumed. He watched as its body disintegrated, fading away into nothingness...and just like that, it was gone. The monster that had pushed them to the end of their ropes was gone.

Exhausted and spent, with no supplies and barely any magic left, they had actually managed to win thanks to a last-ditch effort.

Their gamble had paid off. Eleven had made the right call after all.

Eleven.

The battle was over, but a fresh wave of panic washed over him.

As the magic started to fade and disperse into the air, he could see a bright light from the corner of his eye, and he watched as Veronica reverted back to her usual form before falling to her knees, followed closely by Serena. The two of them were probably exhausted after having released the entirety of their magic, and as much as he wanted to go over and make sure that the two of them were okay, he couldn’t stop himself from seeking out the Luminary first. Besides, he could already see Sylvando moving towards them (though not before the jester shot a quick Remoreheal his way, which immediately started to mend his slightly busted shoulder), so he knew the twins would be in good hands. Erik would be sure to congratulate and praise them for such an impressive display later.

Right now, he needed to see Eleven.

He caught sight of Jade first as he turned around, still sitting exactly where he had left her. She had been joined by Rab, which was good in case Eleven hadn’t been able to fully heal himself. The Luminary was skilled at magic of course, but that wound had been...

It was probably better if he just didn’t think about it.

However, despite knowing that his friend had likely been healed, what still had Erik worried was that El wasn’t sitting up on his own. Instead he was being held up by Jade, his head resting against her shoulder.

It was hard to tell from a distance, but given that the Luminary didn’t seem to be moving, there was a good chance that he wasn’t awake.

That he was unconscious.

Something—more than likely his heart—twisted painfully in his chest.

Once again Erik started running towards Eleven. A sudden movement from the corner of his eye stopped him in his tracks, however.

Throughout the entire battle, Drustan had simply stood there next to the statue of Morcant, stoically watching the events play out, evaluating their progress and probably keeping track of the time since he had imposed some sort of unknown time limit on their battle. He had done nothing to interfere or aid them, even when Eleven had gotten hurt, even when that monster had been about to kill him—but now he was moving, raising one of his arms and extending it towards the unconscious Luminary.

Erik turned back towards Jade, Rab, and Eleven just in time to see a bright light wash over their leader. He was pretty sure that whatever Drustan was doing, it wasn’t anything bad, but he ran the rest of the way to his friend anyway, falling to his knees next to Jade. She seemed just as bewildered by what was happening as Erik was, but she remained perfectly still, just holding on to Eleven as whatever strange magic the ancient hero was using seemed to sink into the Luminary’s body.

Again, he was pretty sure it wasn’t anything bad, but that wasn’t quite enough to alleviate the fear still coursing through his veins.

It felt like the three of them were holding their breath as the light began to fade, and the moment it was gone, the moment the final tendril of magic vanished, El’s eyes flew open.

Relief didn’t even begin to describe the feeling that flooded through him upon seeing those bright blue eyes looking up at them. However, they immediately filled with alarm, and without any warning, Eleven bolted upright, pulling away from Jade. He looked down and reached towards his right arm, clearly panicking, but it quickly faded upon seeing that the wound was gone even though a lot of the evidence of it still remained. The amount of blood on his shirt, his skin, and pooling on the ground was worrying to say the least, and it was likely the reason why he had been unconscious even after being healed. While healing magic was powerful and rather incredible given what it could do, there were no known spells that could cure blood loss.

...But apparently the keyword there was “known” spells, because it kind of seemed like that was exactly what Drustan had done.

Just how powerful was the magic that made up the labyrinth, that kept Drustan bound to it—a magic that essentially allowed him to create and manipulate the world around him at will? Perhaps it made sense in a way that the magic of the Watchers would be exceptional given just how long they seemingly lived for and their role of watching over Erdrea. They had been around since the beginning, after all. Of course, that certainly didn’t make it any less impressive to witness, especially compared to the limitations of their own magic, and he was pretty sure that if given the chance, Veronica and Serena would take up residency with them on their floating island and spend several years of their lives trying to studying it, even if only for posterity’s sake.

Speaking of the twins, he really hoped that the two of them were okay...

The sudden sound of armor clanking alerted the four of them to Hendrik’s approach, and while the man was out of breath by the time he reached them, much of the worry quickly fled from his face as his eyes landed on the no-longer-injured Luminary.

“Eleven,” he began, drawing the boy’s attention, and then in that even, knightly tone of his, he asked the one question that the rest of them had failed to.

The one question that Erik found he desperately wanted an answer to.

“Are you alright?”

...Was he alright?

Honestly, he didn’t know. The last thing he remembered was being in a significant amount of pain with Jade hovering over him, trying to tell him that he needed to heal himself, that he needed to stay awake, and while he had managed to cast some sort of healing spell, he had unfortunately passed out soon after. Whether it had been due to the blood loss or just the pure agony of having his arm flayed open, he didn’t know, nor did he care to spend too much time trying to figure it out for that matter. He could remember thinking that there was a very real possibility that he could die, that he would bleed to death on the beautifully decorated floor of Drustan’s chambers, all because he had made a mistake—all because he was a terrible, useless leader who should’ve just stood his ground and said no instead of letting everyone come to this place and fight a battle that easily could’ve killed them.

Then to make matters worse, he had risked all of their lives on a gamble, had placed everything on the shoulders of Veronica and Serena and a spell that had never even been tested before, let alone actually used. He had dumped all of that responsibility onto them, and he hadn’t even apologized for it—and then to rub even more salt in the wound, he had almost gotten himself killed after making them promise not to help no matter what happened.

The thought made him feel a bit sick.

...And to top it all off, Drustan knew.

He knew.

Because that thing, regardless of its true nature, had been a reflection of Tyriant, someone who didn’t exist (would never exist) in this timeline.

Innermost demons indeed...

If they continued with the trials, how much more of that future—what was technically now his past—would get dragged to the surface and put on display for everyone to see? Just how many of his fears would he be forced to face?

No, he wasn’t alright. He would probably never be alright.

But for now, he was going to pretend to be. That was all he could do, really.

“I...yes, I think so,” he said as he slowly rotated his arm only to find that it was completely pain free. In fact, despite the worrying amount of blood both on and around him, he felt perfectly fine. He wasn’t even tired anymore. “Did...someone heal me? It kind of feels like I was never even hurt in the first place. I thought for sure I would be...”

“Aye, laddie,” he heard his grandfather say. “Ye owe that feeling to Drustan. I was able to close the wound, but ye lost a lot of blood. I was sure it would take a few days before ye’d be back to normal, but he did something that healed ye. I didnae think magic like that even existed.”

More than a little surprised, the Luminary turned to look at Drustan. The ancient hero was still standing exactly where he had been, just watching them all with that same, stoic expression on his face.

Maybe Eleven had been right after all. Maybe Drustan wouldn’t have allowed them to die. If they had lost the battle, maybe he would’ve just restored all of them, put them back to the way they were. Still though, it hadn’t been worth the risk to hope for that, and he still wasn’t sure if that kindness would’ve been extended towards his friends. He was the Luminary, so it made sense that the man wouldn’t have allowed him to die. He couldn’t exactly destroy Calasmos if he were dead (though Eleven was starting to doubt his ability to destroy the Dark One at all if a mere copy of Tyriant had almost done him in. The less he thought about that though, the better).

He was about to open his mouth and call out to Drustan—whether to thank him or ask if they had passed, he didn’t know—but he was quickly interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming towards him, three sets of very hurried footsteps. Eleven turned to watch as Veronica, Serena, and Sylvando rushed over with varying degrees of concern on their faces. They were out of breath by the time they reached him, but that didn’t stop them from asking what was obviously the most important question given what had just happened (he had been answering that one a lot lately it seemed, and he had no one to blame for it but himself).

Three sets of worried eyes fell on him, and while only one was close to eye level, its twin was quick to follow.

“Are you okay?” asked Veronica as both she and Serena fell to their knees next to him, and it was so rare to see such blatant concern on that face that he was momentarily lost for words. Half the time Veronica tried to mask her worry, but there was nothing hidden in the eyes looking back at him.

He had really scared her, had scared both of them (had probably scared them all).

“I’m so sorry,” Serena said for the second time that day, even though it was Eleven who should’ve been apologizing. “If we had only been quicker, you wouldn’t have...”

“No, I—please, don’t apologize,” he said quickly. “It’s alright—I’m alright, so please don’t worry about it. The two of you really saved us, so thank you.”

He tried to offer them both a reassuring smile but was pretty sure it fell short.

“I should be the one apologizing. I knew that I would be asking a lot of you, that I was risking all of our lives on a spell that you had never used before and weren’t even sure if it would actually work. I never wanted to put that kind of pressure on you.” He could feel his hands clenching tightly into fists even as he continued to force that reassuring smile. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to think of something else.”

The Luminary lowered his head, suddenly finding it hard to meet their eyes, to see the worry and the fear and the apology all being directed towards him when he was the one who had failed. He was supposed to be their leader, but he had made so many mistakes.

Steeling himself, Eleven looked down at his right arm, at his torn and bloody sleeve, split all the way from his shoulder to his wrist. The wound was gone, but the memory of it remained, an echo of pain that was unlikely to leave him any time soon. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been hurt that badly. Maybe when the World Tree fell, given how long he had slept for in Nautica, how long it had taken for him to heal (especially since he had walked away from that with two wounds that couldn’t be healed). Prior to that though, most of his injuries had been minor and easily dealt with, mostly because he had people around who had made it their priority to make sure he didn’t get hurt.

...Seeing the splatter of blood on the ground and the amount still left drying on his skin, Eleven did his best not to feel sick. That could have gone so much worse. If not for Jade and Erik, he might’ve been done for. That doppelganger of Tyriant could’ve easily cut him in two considering what those blades had done to his arm, not to mention his Fizzle Foil...

He really needed to forge (or find) himself a better blade. Even though it had been hastily made, he had definitely thought that Fizzle Foil would be enough to protect him. It’s not like he had made any mistakes while forging it or anything; it just hadn’t been as good as it could’ve been, that was all, which meant that clearly what he was currently capable of simply wasn’t good enough. He needed to start gathering better materials and practicing more often, maybe by crafting some of the newer recipes he had found or improving their current equipment. That would probably work.

He also needed to practice more when it came to swordplay, especially dual wielding, because clearly he had grown rusty in his abilities after fighting one-handed for so long.

Maybe he could ask Hendrik or Sylvando to spar with him so that he could learn a few more sword techniques. They were both familiar with broadswords, after all. Surely they would be up for sparring with him (he needed to get stronger).

Or maybe Jade or Erik could help him work on his speed and evasion, so that next time he would be fast enough and wouldn’t have to worry so much about blocking and parrying and could just dodge and counter instead. That could possibly work (he needed to be faster).

Or maybe he could—

His thoughts were abruptly cut off as a pair of arms were suddenly thrown around him, and he found himself being pulled down and hugged rather tightly by none other than Jade. He gave a startled yelp, not expecting the sudden embrace, and his arms flailed a bit as he tried and failed to figure out what to do with them. The princess paid his floundering no heed, however. Instead she simply pulled him closer, resting the side of her head against his own as she took a deep, shuddering breath that sounded just shy of a sob.

Eleven froze at the sound.

It was subtle, barely anything at all, but...he could feel her shaking.

She was shaking.

His sister was...

...Jade was one of the strongest people he knew. She was confident, determined, focused, willing to do whatever it took to accomplish what was needed but also never failing to be kind to the people around her. He had no doubt that she would’ve been an exceptional role model and big sister when he was younger, if only the world had been kinder, if only the two of them had been allowed to grow up together and be the “siblings” that she had always wanted them to be.

He knew that just like all of them, she carried her own pain, and while she didn’t often show it, she also didn’t shy away from it or try to pretend that it didn’t exist. She had really grown and learned a lot during her time traveling the world with Rab, and she had been made all the stronger for it.

She would be an amazing queen one day.

Honestly, if someone were to ask him what “strength” looked like, he would probably tell them “Jade,” and so this, being hugged as if she were afraid that he might disappear at any moment, was completely unexpected.

Confused and more than a little worried, he finally lowered his arms and cautiously returned the embrace.

“Um, Jade?” he began softly. “What—”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her words quick but honest and just a little bit pained, and now he was even more confused, because he was pretty sure he would’ve ended up dead in that fight if not for her. Not only had she warned him, but she had also risked her life to save his by shoving him out of the way.

“For what?” he asked, because he honestly didn’t know what she could be apologizing for.

“...You didn’t want to come here yet, right?” she asked, her voice soft and knowing, and try as he might, he couldn’t help but flinch at those words. Regardless of how subtle it was, he knew that one tiny action gave him away, and Jade’s arms tightened around him as she pulled herself just a little bit closer. “I knew you were trying to avoid talking about the trials. At the time I didn’t understand why, but I think I get it now.”

She heaved another deep, shuddering sigh, and although he was certain that she wasn’t actually crying, there were tears in her voice as she spoke.

“You knew,” she said, the word catching in her throat. “You knew that the trials would be dangerous, that we weren’t ready for this yet, but we... Like a bunch of arrogant children, we pressured you into saying yes. We should have listened to you. You’re our Luminary, and you could have been... I’m so sorry, Eleven.”

It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t any of their faults. He could’ve said no. He could’ve outright refused to go, could’ve refused to zoom them back to Zwaardsrust. He could’ve given them any number of simple, curt reasons: he didn’t feel like it, he didn’t want to, he didn’t think they could do it yet without getting killed. He could’ve stepped up, been a leader, and told them no...but he had been afraid. He had been afraid of how they would respond, of how they would see him, of losing their confidence or their faith, of them not listening to him and continuing to try and force the subject anyway because they believed they were ready regardless of his reservations. He hadn’t wanted to spend the rest of their trip across Erdrea constantly being asked about why he was avoiding the trials, because he didn’t know how to put all of his doubts into words, and so in the end he hadn’t bothered trying.

There had been options; he had simply chosen the easiest one. There were a lot of reasons why he had given in, but the fact of the matter was that he could’ve said no, and it wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own that he hadn’t. Back when the whole traveling thing was still new to him, back before the Fall, Veronica had on several occasions commented on his leadership skills (or lack thereof), offering her criticism as well as some constructive advice. He liked to think that he had gotten better, not just as a fighter but as a strategist too, as someone who could make important decisions by weighing the consequences, understanding limitations, and arriving at the best possible solution for a problem.

This had not been a good representation of that. He had allowed his fear, his desire to keep everything that had happened to him completely hidden to influence his decision.

And he had no one to blame for it but himself.

“It’s alright,” he told Jade, though his words were meant for all of them. “You don’t have to apologize—it isn’t your fault. I could’ve said no. As a leader, it’s my responsibility to make sure we don’t end up in situations like this. I should’ve just explained to all of you why I didn’t think we were ready to come here yet.”

He still didn’t know if they would’ve listened to him, if they would’ve let it go, but given what could’ve happened and what almost did happen, it would’ve been wroth a try.

“I’m sorry.”

Jade slowly pulled away from him, though she kept her hands on his shoulders as she met his gaze, giving him a puzzled look. He offered her a small smile to try and reassure her, but her brow only became more furrowed, her mouth curving into a gentle frown. He wasn’t sure what she was searching for in his expression, if she was trying to decide whether his words were genuine or not, if he actually believed what he had said, but as she began to open her mouth, their conversation was interrupted by the person who had put all of them in this situation to begin with.

“Luminary.”

Both he and Jade froze, and together they turned to face Drustan. The man was still standing by the statue of Morcant, still exactly where they had left him, where he had been throughout the entirety of their battle as well as everything that had happened after.

Part of Eleven was grateful for the interruption.

The other was dreading what the ancient hero had to say.

The Luminary got to his feet with a little help from Jade, who was clearly still concerned. He gave her another smile, one that he hoped came off as both grateful and reassuring, before motioning for all of his friends to stay back as he slowly began to approach Drustan.

He stopped just a few feet away from the man, who surprisingly didn’t say anything despite having called out to him. Instead he just stood there stoically as if he were waiting for something to happen.

There were a ton of questions that Eleven wanted to ask—did they pass, what was that thing, why a time limit, would he have really let them die—but in the end what came to mind and fell from his lips were just two words, half fearful and half accusing, spoken so softly that no one else would be able to hear.

“You know.”

It wasn’t a question, because there was no way he didn’t. Not after that.

The change in Drustan’s expression was subtle, was barely a change at all, but he could see the understanding in his eyes, and his words when he spoke were pitched at the same volume as Eleven’s.

“I have known since thou first didst set foot into the labyrinth,” Drustan told him, and even though he’d been expecting it, his heart still sank. “My soul is connected to this realm and thus to the trials. They were designed to draw on thy fears and memories, Luminary, in hopes that thou wouldst be able to overcome them and gain the power needed to vanquish the Dark One. He is a formidable foe, one who will attempt to draw on thy fear and doubt. Thou must become strong enough to grant him no purchase inside thy mind.”

He didn’t particularly like what that implied, both in regards to Calasmos and the other two remaining trials. To make matters worse, while the man’s expression barely changed, he could tell that Drustan was looking at him in sympathy, and a part of him hated it. Even though it was lonely, he hadn’t actually wanted anyone else to know.

“The pain that thou carries... ‘Tis more than I expected. Thou art strong indeed to have borne so many scars. My apologies for what may lie ahead, Luminary. I know thou didst wish to hide the truth from thy companions.”

Eleven closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It did little to help him though as he came to the realization that whether he liked it or not, he couldn’t avoid this. He was going to have to be a lot more careful moving forward. So far he had done a poor job of reacting to certain things the way he was supposed to, the way he would’ve if this had been his first time around, but he couldn’t keep slipping up. These trials were going to be testing a lot more than just his strength it seemed.

He couldn’t allow himself to be caught so off guard again.

“It’s alright,” he said with a good amount of resignation in his voice. “I understand.” And a part of him did, really. He just didn’t like it is all, but by this point he was more than used to the world caring very little about what he wanted. He was just going to have to try his best and pray it would be enough.

“Well met, Luminary,” said Drustan softly, and he got the feeling that the man wasn’t talking about their recent battle. With another deep breath, Eleven steeled himself and asked the one question that he was sure all of his friends were eagerly awaiting the answer to.

“Did we pass?”

The ancient knight didn’t say anything at first, but when he did finally speak, his voice was pitched loud enough for them all to hear.

“Alas, Luminary, thou were undone. Though thy foe was vanquished, the time spent was too great. Though it paineth me to say it, I am unable to grant they reward.”

Strangely enough, those words didn’t disappoint him as much as he thought they would. Instead he found himself smiling.

“Even if we had passed,” he began as he reached up with his left hand and wrapped it around his right arm, feeling the dried blood and his torn sleeve beneath his fingers, “I don’t think I could’ve accepted it. I made a lot of mistakes. The point was to face my fears, right? I don’t think... I don’t think I can do that just yet.”

He had some things to sort out first. He needed some time to think.

Drustan nodded in acknowledgement, and if he didn’t know any better, he would say that the man looked just a little bit proud of him.

“When thou art ready to undergo the trial again,” he began, “thou needs only return to the Watchers’ village within the labyrinth and touch the seedling once more. The trials may be attempted as many times as needed. Use them to become stronger, Luminary, so that one day thou shalt be able to finish what we could not.”

“...Thank you, Drustan.”

With a respectful bow of his head, he turned away and began to walk back to his friends, who also didn’t look as disappointed by the fact that they had failed as he thought they would.

There were a lot of things he needed to do.

He needed to properly thank Veronica and Serena, needed to apologize to everyone for not telling them the truth and putting all of their lives at risk because of it. He needed to have a serious conversation with them all about what he wanted to do next, about traveling and growing stronger, about finding more materials and better equipment and even more forging recipes while also crossing a bunch more things off his list.

There was a lot he needed to do.

...But most importantly, he wanted to rest.

He wanted to rest and unwind and sort out his thoughts before they overwhelmed him.

He wanted just a little bit of peace—and as he began to cast Zoom, as the magic whirled around them and prepared to whisk them all out of the labyrinth, he knew that there was only one place where he could find it.

Home.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: An Honest Truth

When the magic of Zoom whisked them out of Drustan’s labyrinth, along the magical pathway, and then gently set them down, what Erik had been expecting to see before him was the long tunnel leading into Gondolia. That would’ve made sense as it was the last place they had visited, the place where they had left the Salty Stallion, and was therefore the most obvious place to return to.

What greeted him instead was the crisp, clean county air and the green plains of Cobblestone.

He could tell that he wasn’t the only one confused by this as they all looked around at their new surroundings, clearly not expecting this to be Eleven’s choice. The Luminary unfortunately had his back to them, so it was impossible to see his expression, but the slant of his shoulders and the way he was gripping his right arm spoke volumes.

It looked like he was trying to hold himself together.

“El...” he began, only to be immediately cut off.

“I’m fine,” the Luminary said, the words firm and quick but quiet, spoken in an even tone that only emphasized the fact that he very clearly was not. He didn’t even give any of them a chance to question him about his choice of locations before he continued speaking, his voice brooking no argument. “I’m going to head down to the river to wash up. If you could all go and check in with everyone, I’d really appreciate it. Make sure that the Underdigger and the Abominable Showman made it here okay, ask if they need anything—and let Gemma know that I found Noah. He’ll probably be arriving in the next few days. You can let my mum know too that we’ll be staying here tonight.”

It wasn’t exactly a long list, but it was definitely an odd one given that this was Eleven’s home. Erik asked the one question that was currently on all of their minds.

“Don’t you want to check in with them yourself?”

The flinch was subtle but the way he gripped his arm was not as he pulled the two tattered sides of his sleeve together in an attempt to hide the damage.

“I don’t want to worry anyone,” he said. “It’s better if they don’t see me right now. I’ll say hi to everyone later.”

He knew there was more to it than that, especially since in order to get to the stream, Eleven would have to pass through the village. People would definitely see him, and it was rather hard to miss the worrying amount of blood that had soaked into his sleeve, not to mention the patches of it still on his skin. There was no way he could make it all the way there without someone noticing.

“But—”

“It shall be done.”

Erik whipped his head to the side and glared at Hendrik, both for cutting him off and for just agreeing to Eleven’s request when something was obviously wrong. The knight ignored him however and kept his gaze focused on the Luminary, and while his expression appeared stoic, there was something else there.

Something apologetic and understanding, and when Eleven glanced back at him, he offered the man a small, grateful smile.

“Thanks.”

And with that said, their leader took off, hurrying down the road and avoiding as many of the people milling about as he possibly could on his way towards the outskirts of the village.

The seven of them simply stood at the entrance, watching as he went, but Erik kept half of his attention on Hendrik, still upset with the man for simply allowing Eleven to get away with lying to them, with hiding something from them. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that he wasn’t okay, and allowing him to brood by himself and get lost in his own head was a bad decision. Lately El had developed a habit of worrying too much and not believing in himself enough, and after what had happened today, the last thing he needed was to be left alone to wallow in his thoughts.

Erik still needed to apologize too. They all did to an extent. Jade was the only one of them who already had, and...

...Wait.

That wasn’t quite right, was it.

There was one among them who, despite going with them, hadn’t tried to convince Eleven to attempt the trials.

He turned fully to face Hendrik as realization dawned, now glaring at the man for a completely different reason (although he wasn’t entirely sure if he was angry about it yet or not).

“You knew, didn’t you,” he said. It wasn’t a question, because he was absolutely certain that he already knew the answer.

“About what?” Hendrik asked.

“You knew why El didn’t want to take on the trials yet. He told you.”

He hadn’t really meant it as an accusation, but that was how it came out, and he could feel the others staring at him and Hendrik as the knight heaved a deep sigh and turned to face him. The Hero of Heliodor was a hard person to read, but there was something very close to disappointment in his expression, along with a small dose of confusion.

“He did not confide in me, if that is what you are trying to imply,” he said. “While we were in Octagonia, I noticed that he was hesitant to discuss the trials when the subject was brought up and chose to confront him about it. Even then he did not outright tell me what was worrying him. He only confirmed my suspicions after I asked if he was avoiding the topic because he believed that we were not yet strong enough. It was why I suggested making a trip to Puerto Valor. Eleven was hoping to grow stronger before attempting the trials.”

There was a moment of silence as six pairs of eyes all stared at the knight, all of them equally as wide with surprise.

Erik still wasn’t sure if he was angry or not. He was actually starting to lean a little towards disappointed—not at Hendrik, but at himself—and a part of him understood now why that was the emotion he had seen on the knight’s face.

“Hendrik,” began Jade, drawing his attention as well as Erik’s, “if you knew, then why didn’t you say anything?”

“...Forgive me, Princess,” he said, and to his credit he did sound sincere, but the words that followed had a very different undertone, and to Erik it felt just a little like being slapped in the face. “When you all went to confront him last night, I was unable to find a convincing argument to dissuade you, and I was unsure if telling you what I had learned would truly make any difference in your decision. I also did not wish to speak for the Luminary or betray his confidence. I learned what I did because I asked, not because he told me, and so I assumed it was something that he did not wish for any of us to know.”

And just to drive the point home even further...

“I must admit to some surprise that you did not notice. You have all known him for far longer than I, and yet you did not confront him about it even though his hesitation was obvious.”

Ouch.

A slap to the face indeed, and perhaps the worst part was that he was pretty sure Hendrik didn’t actually mean it that way. He was simply stating an observation and expressing some disbelief over their inability to see something in someone that they had all known for months. The thing was, they had seen it, because just like he had said, El’s hesitation had been obvious, but none of them had actually confronted him about it. They had all come to their own conclusions, had created their own reasons, and had just assumed that they were correct instead of doing the obvious thing and asking Eleven what he thought, asking him for the truth.

He didn’t know if it really would’ve done them any good in the end—El was no longer that forthcoming when it came to asking him how he was feeling—but the point was that they hadn’t even really tried, and that was entirely a failure on their part. They had assumed, and it had cost them.

In this case, knowing him too well had been a detriment. They hadn’t been able to see the real reason behind his trepidation. They deserved Hendrik’s chastisement, even if the knight hadn’t meant it that way.

Just another thing to add to the list of stuff he needed to apologize for.

This certainly brought back some memories.

How long had it been since the last time he’d gone swimming in this river? Well over a year, that was for sure.

To be fair, he wasn’t really swimming this time. His primary reason for wading into the river was to wash away the evidence of just how badly he had gotten hurt. Thank goodness he had managed to avoid everyone on his way down. He was pretty sure that a few people had seen him, but hopefully they hadn’t been able to see him well enough to notice his very destroyed sleeve or the red stains on his clothes and skin. The last thing he wanted was for his mother or Gemma to find out. They both worried about him enough the way it was, and he didn’t want to cause them any more grief than he already had.

...In hindsight, he probably should’ve grabbed some supplies from their bags before bolting the way he had. Soap would’ve been helpful. A change of clothes would’ve also been helpful. He had removed all of his stuff and had folded and stacked everything carefully on the shore, but he was pretty sure he was going to need a new shirt at the very least. Even if he was somehow able to get all of the blood out, the sleeve had literally been split in half. He wasn’t sure if even Sylvando and his amazing talent for sewing would be able to salvage it.

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Eleven waded further out into the river and did his best not to shudder at the sudden rush of cold water against his skin. That feeling also brought back quite a few memories. He could recall Gemma shoving him in when they were younger (and vice versa, of course), because the cold was easier to deal with if you just got that part over with quickly. She definitely hadn’t been wrong about that, and so once he was far enough out, he braced himself and quickly submerged the rest of his body under the water, only to come up a few seconds later gasping.

It was colder than he remembered, but it honestly felt pretty good all things considered.

This was actually one of his favorite places in the village. It was quiet and peaceful, the only sounds being that of the water and the occasional chirping of the birds. It was a good place to relax and simply get away from everything for a while. There was just something calming about it; he had always felt that way, and he was certain that some of it had to do with the fact that he had many fond memories of the place. When he was younger, he would spend hours sitting on the dock with his grandad, fishing rods in hand as they tried to catch some fish for lunch or dinner or just because it was fun to spend time together and talk about everything and nothing as they whiled away the morning. Despite being young, his grandad had always treated whatever he had to say as important, as something worth listening to, had never talked down to him or treated him like a bother, and in the end, that care and consideration had made losing him all the more difficult to bear.

Fishing would always remain one of his favorite pastimes thanks to his grandad, and while he actually had more memories of fishing at Cobblestone Falls since that had been their preferred spot, the two of them had probably spent just as many days by the river, especially after it started to become more dangerous to venture outside the village.

If only he could spend another day like that, just sitting on the dock and watching the hours tick by...

Thinking about his grandad always put him in a weird mood—half nostalgia and half longing—because there would always be a part of him that wished he could’ve had more time. What he wouldn’t give to be able to talk to him again...

Especially after what had happened today.

Eleven ran his left hand over some of the patches of dried blood on his arm and began to scrub them off gently—seriously, soap would’ve been a really good idea—and as he did, he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering back to what Drustan had told him (even though he really didn’t want to think about it).

In order to overcome the trials, in order to stand even a ghost of a chance at beating Calasmos, he was going to have to face the things that he had been trying his best to avoid. Pieces of the future he had left behind were going to be dragged to the surface and put on display for everyone to see, and he would be lying if he said that thought didn’t terrify him. In the first trial, they had fought Tyriant, or a thing that looked like him anyway, and Eleven had a sinking feeling that the dual-wielding skeleton wouldn’t be the only Spectral Sentinel he would be forced to face.

What if they had to fight Booga, or Gyldygga, or Jasper? What if seeing them were to trigger an actual memory for his friends instead of just that weird sense of déjà vu? He wasn’t sure if he could handle that. Every time one of them claimed that something seemed familiar or that they felt like they had seen something before when they obviously hadn’t, a sharp spike of panic would shoot through him, and he would start to pretend extra hard that he didn’t know what they were talking about, mostly by just keeping his mouth shut.

But if something were to trigger an actual memory...

What if they started to ask questions? What if they all decided to sit down and really discuss it for a change? What if they started to question him about it, and what if he couldn’t find a convincing excuse or come up with a decent story to get himself out of it because of how terrible of a liar he was? It would be so easy for them to corner him, just like they had last night...

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but it was hard upon realizing that in addition to the fact that they would have to go through the first trial again, there were two more for him to worry about—two more chances for everything to go horribly wrong. It wasn’t just the fear of having to fight the Spectral Sentinels again. What if some of the areas they were forced to travel through in the other two trials included places that didn’t exist in this world, places pulled directly from his memories? The first had only included landscapes that all of them had seen together, with the exception of the blanket of darkness covering the skies, but there was no guarantee that the others would follow suit. In fact, he was pretty sure they wouldn’t given what Drustan had said.

And the more he thought about it, the more his heart began to sink.

What if his friends were to realize that what Drustan had told him about facing his fears, his innermost demons, had been literal, that he hadn’t just been speaking metaphorically?

What if they started putting the pieces together?

He wanted to believe that it was impossible, wanted to believe that no rational human being would look at Eleven and all of the strange things he had said and done during the past month (or hadn’t done in some cases) and arrive at “time travel” as the logic conclusion, but...

“Do not think that you are the only one who has defied the flow of time.”

...Mordegon had figured it out.

Just from one battle, one interaction, the Lord of Shadows had figured it out, and to make matters worse, he had said it aloud for everyone to hear. The seed had already been placed, and sometimes it didn’t take much for questions and doubts to take root in a person’s mind, for things like skepticism and curiosity to begin to grow.

Just the thought of it was enough to make him feel like he couldn’t breathe.

He reached up towards his chest and placed a hand over his scar.

A wound that time couldn’t heal.

He had carried two back with him—a story written into his flesh that he had never planned to tell.

“Thou art strong indeed to have borne so many scars.”

And he was slowly beginning to realize that they weren’t the only ones, that not all of his wounds were physical and not every scar was able to be seen.

It was possible that he was a lot more broken than he had thought...

Thankfully (or perhaps not so thankfully given what he was currently doing), before he could get too lost in that rather depressing thought, his ears caught what sounded like footsteps approaching, followed by the very loud sound of a twig being snapped.

With a startled gasp, Eleven immediately ducked further into the water until it was all the way up to his chin. He didn’t know who was coming towards him, but he prayed that he had been fast enough, prayed that they hadn’t seen the starburst-shaped scar between his shoulder blades.

And most importantly, he prayed that whoever it was, it wasn’t one of his—

“Relax, El. It’s just me. You sure have been jumpy lately...”

...It was Erik.

Because of course it was.

He just couldn’t catch a break it seemed.

“...Sorry,” he said (even though he kind of wasn’t).

So much for having some time alone to himself to think.

What was Erik even doing down here anyway? He had asked all of them to check in with the village. Surely he hadn’t been standing in the river spacing out for that long.

He listened as his friend walked closer, as the sound of his steps transitioned from the rustling of grass to the creaking of wood when he stepped onto the dock, and perhaps that was a strange thing to take note of, but half the time he couldn’t hear Erik when he moved at all. The thief was normally a lot more quiet than this, even when he didn’t mean to be, which would have to imply that he was doing it intentionally—but that didn’t make sense unless...

Eleven quickly came to the realization that the reason why he could so clearly hear his friend moving was because Erik had actually been making an effort to not startle his for a change, which was kind of a nice improvement (though to be fair, it’s not like the thief actively tried to startle him. It was an accident most of the time).

The gesture was indeed a thoughtful one, and Eleven could feel himself smiling just a bit because of it.

“Here.”

The word was accompanied by a soft thud behind him, and he glanced back to see a lump of dark fabric next to his pile of folded clothes.

A new shirt.

“If your goal is to not worry people, you probably shouldn’t be walking around in your old one. It’s kind of beyond saving if you ask me.”

His grin grew a little wider—another thoughtful gesture. Now he didn’t need to bother trying to get the blood out, nor would he have to worry about trying to explain his ripped shirt to anyone in the village (his other option had been to walk back to his home only partially dressed, and that hadn’t been a particularly appealing thought either).

“Thanks,” he said, offering his friend a smile before turning his attention back to the river as well as his current dilemma.

The water thankfully wasn’t too cold, but at the same time Eleven hadn’t really wanted to spend too much time completely submerged in it. However, as long as Erik was standing by the river, he didn’t really have much of a choice.

As much as he loved his friend, he kind of wanted him to leave.

So naturally the thief instead sat down at the end of the dock.

Condemned to spending the next several minutes neck deep in the water, Eleven heaved a soft sigh and moved himself further out into the river, finding a place where he could stand comfortably and still keep his scars hidden without having to crouch down too much. He once again began to scrub at his arm a bit, his fingers still catching a few patches of blood that had yet to wash off.

If only Erik had brought him some soap...

Eleven glanced back at the thief. Normally when the two of them were alone, the silence never lasted long. Erik had a habit of filling it, sometimes with a question, other times with a story, but always with something. This time, however, he was staying quiet, was simply sitting at the edge of the dock and staring into the water with a contemplative look on his face.

If the Luminary didn’t know any better, he would say that his partner looked just a little bit sad.

But that couldn’t be right, surely.

And yet he found himself moving closer to the dock and hesitantly asking, “Are you okay?”

Erik glanced over at him briefly before turning his attention back to the water, his expression unchanging as he began to lightly pull at the ends of his sleeves. It wasn’t exactly a nervous tick, but it was close enough to one that Eleven began to worry that something was seriously wrong. He opened his mouth to ask once more if he was alright, but a deep sigh from the thief, as well as the question that followed, managed to stop him in his tracks.

“You...know you can talk to me, right?”

The words were soft and earnest and maybe even a little bit pained, and whether Erik had meant for them to or not, they left him speechless in their wake. He hadn’t been expecting that question, nor the way it was delivered, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he was being asked.

“Huh?” was the best response he could come up with, and all it did was earn him another sigh as the thief hunched in on himself further.

“You can talk to me,” he clarified, still in that soft, earnest tone. “If you ever need to run an idea by someone or need an opinion on something, or even if you just want someone to back you up, you know you can come to me, right?”

You used to.

His chest suddenly felt tight. Erik didn’t say the words, but he could hear them in his voice, and he understood now why his friend was asking him that question even though the answer to it should’ve been obvious.

“I’ll listen.” It was a promise and a statement, and Eleven swallowed hard as his heart stuttered and a lump began to form in his throat.

“I...I know,” he said, because deep down he did. He always had. From the beginning, Erik had been someone he could talk to, someone he could run ideas by, someone whose advice and opinions he deeply valued. He knew that he could trust him, rely on him. They were partners. None of that had changed.

...Except that a part of it had, because Eleven, however unintentionally it might’ve been, had changed it, had stopped opening up, had started keeping to himself more and relying on everyone else less. The worst part was that he hadn’t entirely meant to, but keeping so many secrets made it hard to interact the way he used to, the way he wanted to.

His words weren’t a lie, but they weren’t entirely true anymore either, and he knew what Erik would say before the question even left his mouth.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“...About what?”

This time the thief did raise his head to look at him, and while there was some hurt there as well as a bit of irritation, the eyes looking back at him were unwavering.

“About not wanting to take on the trials yet.”

Eleven swallowed hard and tried his best to fight off the sudden sinking feeling in his stomach.

There it was, the question that he still wasn’t entirely sure how to answer yet. He had known that it was coming, had been expecting it sooner or later, but that didn’t mean he was any more prepared for it now than before. He had wanted just a little more time to organize his thoughts, to put everything in order, to piece together an explanation that wouldn’t come off as petulant or incompetent or like he was blaming them for what had happened—because he wasn’t, not really, but some of it was just...

His head was just too full, and his nerves had yet to settle, and whether Erik had meant for it to or not, those words felt like an accusation. Eleven found himself looking away as some of his hastily constructed mental walls began to crack. Had he been in a position where he could sit down, he probably would’ve drawn his knees up to his chest and hidden his face against them in an attempt to avoid the eyes looking back at him, those sharp blue eyes that always saw too much. Instead he had to settle for wrapping his arms around himself and staring down at the water.

He hadn’t wanted to have this conversation yet. He had wanted to be alone for a while.

He had wanted time to think and unwind and unload, to push back down everything that had been drawn to the surface, because he could still feel the agony of his arm being cut open, the fear of being overpowered, the helplessness and frustration and anxiety of going into something that he hadn’t wanted to, that he had known they wouldn’t be ready for, all because everyone else had insisted that they should try, that he didn’t need to worry so much, that surely everything would be fine—he was the Luminary, after all, and...and...

Just like with Veronica and Serena, he could feel something in him breaking, and some of the truth behind his thoughts began to pour out before he could even think of stopping it.

“Would you have listened to me if I had?” he asked, the words pointed but quiet as he watched Erik from the corner of his eye. “If I had told you all that I didn’t think we were strong enough yet, would you have let it go, or would you all have insisted on trying anyway because I could just ‘use Zoom’ to get us out of there if we got in over our heads?”

The flinch was subtle, but Eleven noticed it nonetheless, and he immediately felt a bit guilty about throwing Erik’s words back at him. He wasn’t trying to be cruel. Deep down he knew that none of them had meant to make him feel trapped, to make him think that he had to say yes or risk their disappointment, but he was having a hard time sorting through exactly what he was feeling.

It was too much.

Everything was just too much, and he knew that he couldn’t blame his friends for that, that what had happened was his own fault for not being honest with them. If he had simply stood his ground, maybe tried to explain himself properly, but at the same time...

At the same time...

“Sorry,” he said, because regardless of how muddled his thoughts were, regardless of how frustrated he was, he didn’t want to take it out on Erik.

He watched as his friend reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck, his eyes firmly fixed on the water.

“It’s not like I didn’t deserve that,” he muttered, sounding well and truly chastised, and Eleven felt a weight sink into his chest.

“Erik—”

“I’m sorry.” The Luminary snapped his mouth shut at those words. “That’s what I actually came here to say, though I haven’t been doing a good job of it. I’m sorry we pressured you into doing something you didn’t want to, and I’m sorry we didn’t try to listen. I guess you must’ve felt pretty cornered last night...”

...Cornered, huh? That was probably a good way to describe it, being bombarded with reasons as to why they should return to Zwaardsrust to the point where he had felt like trying to offer his own opinion would just result in him coming off as afraid or childish. He was the youngest out of them, and he was trying his best to be a good leader in spite of that, but sometimes it was hard to balance everyone’s expectations as well as his own feelings. It had been easier in the future, easier after the Fall, after being knocked from that shiny pedestal that the title of Luminary had placed him on, because even though he had still been carrying the hopes of all of Erdrea on his shoulders, it had felt...manageable. While the expectation had still been there, it had been tempered by that first failure.

That wasn’t the case this time.

And sometimes he didn’t know what to do.

Cornered was definitely the right word for it.

“A bit,” he admitted, and because he was still watching, he saw Erik flinch again as the thief hunched in on himself a little more, still very pointedly not looking at Eleven.

“...I should’ve noticed,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“It’s not like I can blame you for not knowing what I was thinking,” the Luminary was quick to tell him, because he wasn’t particularly fond of that self-deprecating tone. “I never really said anything, after all.”

He had been trying to offer a bit of comfort, to stop his friend from blaming himself, but instead his words seemed to have the opposite effect as Erik’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.

“Hendrik figured it out.”

...Now, that gave him pause.

Erik didn’t usually get angry—he was good at brushing things off and moving on—and yet Eleven couldn’t help but feel like there was definitely some anger hidden in those words. He couldn’t exactly tell who it was directed at, however.

Was he mad at Hendrik for knowing, himself for not figuring it out, or Eleven for not telling him?

“Are you mad at me?” he asked in the end, because that was the easiest one out of those three questions.

“What? No!” was Erik’s very hasty response, looking a bit horrified at the prospect. “Of course I’m not mad at you, I just...!”

The thief heaved a very deep sigh, his shoulders slumping as he hung his head.

“I guess I just don’t really get why you didn’t say anything. Don’t you...don’t you trust us?”

Eleven whipped his head around, his eyes widening at the question, and this time it was his turn to try and ward off a misunderstanding.

“That’s not it! I promise it doesn’t—it has nothing to do with not trusting you.”

(And everything to do with not trusting himself).

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

It was a fair question, and he knew he owed them all some sort of explanation, but...

“It’s...hard to explain.”

“Try.”

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and wrapped his arms a little tighter around himself.

He had wanted more time to organize this thoughts, to come up with an explanation, to be able to pick and choose his words more carefully, but he knew that he had wasted too much time already, that he simply wasn’t going to be given any more. He was fully aware of the fact that the more he avoided telling the truth, the more he put it off, the harder it was going to be in the end and the more likely he was to eventually slip up. Originally, he had thought that keeping his worries and fears to himself was for the best, that shouldering everything alone was safer, but...by not saying anything, by not being honest, they had ended up in a dangerous situation, one that easily could’ve been avoided if he had just stood his ground and talked to them, had told them what was wrong.

He really had been keeping a lot of things to himself lately, more so than he had intended to, and while some of it had to remain a secret, there was just as much of it that didn’t.

He knew that.

On some level, he knew that, but he had been carrying so much with him for so long now, and it had only continued to pile up after going back in time and learning the truth about everything that had happened—about Calasmos and Erdwin, about the Luminary’s true task that had remained unfinished for hundreds of years, a task that he was expected to finish now.

It was overwhelming.

It really was overwhelming. There was just so much floating around in his head, and it was possible that saying it aloud, that giving it a voice would help, just like when he had spoken to Yggdrasil, but the difference was that Erik was fully capable to talking back. If Eleven dumped everything onto him, he would carry it with him. It’s not like he would just put it aside and leave it be—he would probably try to help, and Eleven didn’t want a counsellor. He didn’t need condolence or advice or even validation. He just wanted someone to listen, someone who wouldn’t hold anything against him, who wouldn’t look at him differently for admitting to something that he had never planned on sharing with anyone except perhaps the World Tree.

This was something that he had never told anyone, something he had barely even come to terms with himself, but it was a thought that had started to creep into his mind ever since they learned the truth about what had happened to Erdwin, about the real history of the first Luminary.

He had been hoping to keep it to himself, but...at the same time, it was part of the reason why he hadn’t said anything to them.

“Don’t you trust us?”

That wasn’t it. It really didn’t have anything to do with trust.

It was a matter of faith...and of how little he felt he deserved it.

He had never meant to make any of them believe that he didn’t trust them, least of all his partner, and so regardless of his reservations about telling the truth, he came to the decision that if no one else, Erik deserved an answer.

For staying by his side and keeping him grounded through everything...

For saving him and protecting him and risking his life for him and simply believing in him, his partner had a right to know.

“...You said that I could talk to you, right?” he asked quietly, watching the thief from the corner of his eye but keeping his head bowed towards the water. “About anything?”

He saw the sudden look of surprise on Erik’s face, but it quickly melted away, replaced by that same earnest look from before, the look of someone who had meant what he said and had no intention of ever taking it back.

“I did.”

“And no matter what I say, you’ll listen?”

“Yes.”

“...Then, do you promise that...” He took a deep, shaky breath. “Can you promise me that whatever I tell you, you won’t judge me for it? You won’t think less of me?”

“What?” He could see Erik turning his whole body to the side to face him, the shock evident in his voice, but instead of meeting his friend’s gaze, Eleven still kept his attention fixed on the water. “Of course I wouldn’t—El, you’re our Luminary. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you can do that would make me—make any of us—think less of you.”

He bit his lip and closed his eyes as that sinking feeling from earlier returned. No matter how kind the words were, no matter what Erik had actually meant by them, that wasn’t what he had wanted to hear.

“That’s not what I asked you,” he said softly. “...And that’s part of the problem.”

“...What do you mean?”

A part of him still wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to do this, but it was a little too late to go back now. Hopefully this wouldn’t be a mistake. He had already made too many the way it was.

“You really meant what you said, right? I can tell you anything, and you’ll listen?”

“I already told you I did.”

“...Okay. Then there’s something I want to say, but I need you to promise me that no matter what, you won’t interrupt me. I’m not looking for reassurance or sympathy, I just... I just need someone to listen.”

This time he did raise his head and glance over at his friend, wanting to see what kind of expression those words had earned him. He saw the confusion and the wariness on his face, which was to be expected, but underneath it all was that familiar, contemplative look that he was so used to, the one that Erik used to give him all the time when their journey and their partnership had still been new, the one that made him feel like some kind of puzzle.

It felt like he was being taken apart and put back together even though so many of the pieces no longer fit (and he was pretty sure that Erik knew they didn’t fit).

Despite his obvious suspicion though, the thief slowly nodded his head.

“...Alright.”

There was no going back now.

With a deep breath, Eleven turned his attention back to the water. This was going to be hard enough the way it was; he didn’t particularly want to see his friend’s reaction to what he was about to say.

But surprisingly, once he finally began to speak, the words came easily.

Telling the truth had always been easier than trying to lie.

“...The reason I didn’t say anything about not wanting to attempt the trials was because I didn’t know how to tell you all that I didn’t think we were strong enough yet without making you think that I didn’t believe in you. You were all so sure that we could do it, that everything would be fine, and I was afraid that if I said no, you’d just keep bringing it up until I gave in. I didn’t want to deal with that. You all...everyone has faith in me because I’m the Luminary, but that doesn’t...I’m not...”

He closed his eyes and counted to three, taking another deep breath before collecting himself and pushing the looming panic towards the back of his mind.

“You’ve all said it before, in one way or another, that you believe in me because I’m the Luminary, that as long as I’m with you, there’s no way we can lose, that things will somehow just work out. At first I thought that was a good thing. I wanted you all to stay optimistic—I was okay with being the only one who wasn’t, but...because I was too afraid to admit that I was scared of attempting the trials, we ended up in a battle that I knew we weren’t ready for yet. I should’ve just been honest with all of you. I should’ve just said no.”

His attempts to appear strong, to appear like nothing was wrong, like he was exactly the same as he’d always been had almost gotten them all killed.

He needed to change...but he also needed them to change.

“I get that I’m the Luminary, that I’m special, that I was chosen by Yggdrasil to save the world, but...being chosen didn’t save Erdwin. His title didn’t protect him. All those legends and stories... They painted him as this invincible hero who destroyed the darkness and saved the world and then ascended into the heavens to watch over Erdrea...but all of that was a lie. The Luminary of Legend...he was human. I’m human too...and sometimes it feels like everyone forgets that.”

It was maybe a hard pill to swallow, but it needed to be said.

“We’re not guaranteed to win just because I’m special. I’m capable of making mistakes—and I get that all of you are just trying to help when you say that you believe in me, but I’m trying to be realistic and careful and to make sure that none of you get killed because of me, and it’s just too much sometimes. I’m not some infallible hero—I’m just me, and I’m trying my best to be enough. I can’t just rush into things anymore and expect to come out okay. We need to be stronger so that what happened today won’t happen again. Next time, I promise I’ll be honest with you...but I also need all of you to trust me a little more. I do actually have a plan, and I’m going to try my best not to mess it up, to be the Luminary you all need me to be. I want you to keep believing in me, believing in us, that we can do this and save the world...and in return, I promise that I’ll do everything in my power not to disappoint you.”

He almost said “again,” but managed to bite down on the word before it could escape his lips. That definitely wasn’t something he wanted to get into, certainly not now (and probably not ever).

...He wasn’t sure if he had ever spoken so much before, had ever strung so many words together in his life, but once he had gotten started, he hadn’t been able to stop. It was truly a testament to just how long he had been holding everything in.

It was a bit strange, the feeling that washed over him in that moment. He had always assumed that saying the words aloud, putting them out there, would be like a curse. He had thought that giving a voice to his fear would grant it purchase, would give it power, but...instead what followed was a sense of catharsis, the feeling of letting something go. The anxiety that he had grown accustomed to, that he had slowly been drowning in, no longer felt overwhelming; it felt manageable, and just like the night he had apologized to Yggdrasil and promised Her that he would do better, a quiet kind of peace flooded through him, and something deep within him settled.

Despite everything that was still wrong, a soft huff of laughter escaped him and a smile began to spread across his face.

“That...actually felt really good,” he said as he turned to look at Erik. He could admit to being just a little apprehensive about what he would see—he had just dumped a lot onto his friend’s shoulders—but to his credit, the thief had kept his promise. He hadn’t interrupted him, hadn’t tried to interject or correct him or offer sympathy. He had listened, and while there was a question in his eyes and worry written into the lines on his face, there was also understanding and a lack of judgment and a soft albeit restrained smile gently tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Erik reached up with his left hand and rubbed the back of his neck as he diverted his eyes towards the water.

“You’ve been carrying all of that with you for a while now, huh.”

You don’t know the half of it, was what he almost said, because this was probably the most at ease he had felt in a long time, but even said in good humor or sardonically, those words would only create more questions, and there were simply some things he needed to stay hidden.

“I guess I have,” he said instead, a wave of gratitude washing over him. “Thank you, Erik. I think I really needed that.”

He was expecting a “no problem” or an “anytime,” or some other iteration of “you’re welcome” that Erik generally used, but instead he was met once again with that contemplative look and eyes that still felt like they saw too much. There was something firm and determined in his stare, and it kept Eleven silent, simply waiting for whatever his friend wanted to say.

“...I meant what I said, you know,” was what the thief told him, his words once again both a promise and a statement. “You can come to me for anything. I’ll always have your back. You’re my partner, El, and that means I’m on your side, no matter what. You don’t have to worry about hiding stuff from me.”

Eleven simply stared at his friend as a tightness began to form in his chest.

There were times where he wanted to just break down and spill everything: every secret, every insecurity, every doubt and worry and fear; the fact that he had failed and Yggdrasil had fallen and so many people had died—all because he hadn’t been enough the first time around, and he didn’t know if he could be enough now...

...But in the end, he would always think better of it, would always decide that they were better off not knowing. He didn’t want them to know that Mordegon had won, that the world had been destroyed, that Veronica had died.

Eleven had won in the end and Yggdrasil had been restored, but the people they had lost had still been gone.

He wouldn’t let it happen again, and he didn’t want them to know that it had happened at all. It was better that way.

Let him be the only one.

“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” he said. “If I ever feel cornered again, I’ll tell you.”

That earned him a small smile, and some of the concern vanished from Erik’s eyes.

“That’s all I can ask for really,” his friend said in good humor, drawing a smile to Eleven’s face as well. He watched as the thief got to his feet and began to walk back across the dock and onto the shore. “Guess I’ll let you finish washing up. I still have a few things I need to do. I told Jade that I’d check in with Derk about when the supplies are supposed to be arriving. Veronica is going to zoom her and Hendrik back to Heliodor to check in with the king and maybe see if they can find some more volunteers to help rebuild the village.”

“They don’t have to do that,” he said even as a warm feeling began to spread through his chest.

“They want to. Cobblestone is your home. It’s important to you, and that means it’s important to us too.”

...Honestly, sometimes it felt like he didn’t deserve these people. Yggdrasil truly had blessed him with an amazing group of friends.

“I’ll have to thank them later.”

“Just think of it as an apology, okay?”

He heaved a short sigh and turned fully to face the thief. He didn’t want them all to keep dwelling on this. It was better to put it behind them and move on.

“None of you have to apologize to me. I’m just as much to blame for what happened.”

This time it was Erik’s turn to sigh in frustration as he crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Eleven with a look. It was a familiar look, the “stop being an idiot” look that all of them had given him at one point or another (except maybe Serena, but Veronica easily made up for her sister’s lack of disparagement).

“Sorry, but whether you like it or not, we can’t accept that. So I’m afraid you’re just going to have to put up with being coddled for a bit.”

He couldn’t help but glare at his friend for that comment, and he watched as Erik tried his best to keep a serious expression on his face despite the almost playful tone to his voice but ultimately fail. Instead Eleven was met with an amused grin and a soft huff of laughter, and even though he was still slightly annoyed, that was definitely progress. It was leaps and bounds better than the self-deprecation from before.

Erik turned around, still chuckling quietly to himself, and began heading back towards the village. He raised one hand and offered Eleven a slight wave.

“I’ll see you later, El.”

He nodded even though he knew Erik couldn’t see it and then watched as he walked away.

Eleven had been standing in the river for quite a while now. The water was starting to cross over from refreshing to actually cold. It would probably be in his best interest to get out and get dried off before he ended up getting sick or something.

However, it really had been a long time since he had gone swimming, and a part of him was still feeling rather nostalgic. His friends were all off doing their own things. No one would come looking for him again, surely.

Just this once, he would take a few extra minutes for himself.

After the day he’d had, he had more than earned it.

...He was an idiot.

They were all a bunch of complete idiots.

It was almost impressive just how badly they had misread the situation.

Erik made his way slowly down the path back to the village, his eyes fixed on the ground, and he hoped that as long as he didn’t raise his head, he wouldn’t be forced to talk to anyone as he wandered. He wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind right now. Having a proper conversation was probably beyond him. He needed time to sort through his thoughts, time that he probably didn’t have, and he couldn’t help but wonder if this was how Eleven felt on a daily basis.

It was almost overwhelming, was almost too much to take in, but at the same time a lot of things suddenly made sense.

He had known that being the Luminary meant that Eleven carried a lot of weight on his shoulders, that the fate of all of Erdrea was resting on him, that being “special” came with a price...and yet that fact had never seemed to bother him. Throughout the course of their journey, El had approached the world with curiosity and an almost innocent, wide-eyed wonder. Despite the importance of his mission, he had smiled and laughed with the rest of them, had taken the time to explore and even sight-see. He had been having fun traveling across Erdrea and had never really acted like he was being weighed down by his daunting responsibility.

Not until recently, anyway.

He had known that something was wrong with his friend, that something had been bothering him lately, that he had been nervous and jumpy and prone to getting lost in his own head, but he hadn’t realized just how deep it all ran.

It wasn’t the weight of the world that was crushing him.

“The Luminary of legend...he was human. I’m human too...and sometimes it feels like everyone forgets that.”

It was expectation. It was the fact that Eleven felt like he needed to be more than what he was simply because they all believed in him, because he was the Luminary, because obviously everything would simply “work out” just because Yggdrasil had chosen him. Unlike their quest to stop Mordegon, this time around there were no whispers of “Darkspawn,” no soldiers hunting them down, no reason for them to avoid people or keep a low profile. This time around, Eleven had been and would probably continue to be recognized by people the world over as the Luminary, and unfortunately with that recognition came unreasonable expectations.

Because people liked to cling to the idea of a legendary hero, a perfect, infallible Luminary who destroyed the darkness and saved the world and ascended into the heavens to watch over them...and because Eleven was Erdwin’s successor, his reincarnation, the inheritor to his title of Luminary, then surely whatever lay before him, he would have no trouble dealing with it. Surely he would save the world just as soundly as his predecessor.

How do you balance belief and expectation? How do you tell someone that you believe in them without making them think that they have to live up to some kind of ridiculous standard?

Erik couldn’t help but feel like everything had been easier when half the world had thought that Eleven was the Darkspawn. At least then he hadn’t had to worry about meeting anyone’s expectations.

...Except that wasn’t entirely true, was it, because it wasn’t just the world’s expectations that he was trying to meet.

It was theirs.

Whether they had meant to or not, they had made Eleven feel like he needed to live up to something, to be more than what he was, had made him feel like he always had to be strong, always had to succeed just because he was the Luminary.

As his companions, they were supposed to ease his burden, not add to it.

That needed to change, and he was going to make sure that it did. While he wouldn’t share what El had told him, not without his permission, he could still fix this. He knew that all of them felt guilty about what had happened, knew that they wouldn’t be making the same mistake again. In the future, they would be sure to watch more closely, to ask Eleven for his thoughts, to just do the obvious thing and listen.

He was their leader and their Luminary—but more importantly than that, he was their friend and their family, someone they would gladly fight for and protect.

(And for Erik, he had become so much more than even that).

He needed to do better. They all did.

They—

“Well, hello Erik. What has you looking so down?”

Startled from his thoughts (he hadn’t been expecting anyone to try and talk to him), he came to a dead stop and finally raised his head, only to come face to face with Amber.

Apparently during his aimless wandering, he had somehow made his way down the path, across the bridge, up the hill, and had ended up in front of Eleven’s house—or what was left of it anyway. It definitely looked better than the last time he had seen it, that was for sure. A lot of the rubble had been cleared away from the interior, and while there was still no roof over it, some parts of the house were finally functional again.

They still had a long way to go, but bit by bit things were improving. Eventually the whole village would be back to the way it was. Perhaps it would even be better.

He prayed that would be the case, and not just for Eleven’s sake—but he didn’t have time to be thinking about that right now. Amber had asked him a question (that he unfortunately didn’t have an answer to).

Honestly, he didn’t know why this was where his feet had taken him. He hadn’t really had a destination in mind when he started wandering—and wasn’t that a metaphor for a good chunk of his life. Meeting El had been the first true sense of direction that he had found in a long time.

Perhaps it wasn’t so strange then that this was where he had ended up.

“Erik? Are you alright, dear?”

Right. He was supposed to be answering a question.

“Ah, sorry,” he said sheepishly as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m fine. Just got a little lost in my head is all. It’s been kind of a long day.”

There was no way he could tell her the truth. Eleven was doing his best not to worry his mother, and so Erik very quickly tried to find a way to change the subject. He glanced around a bit and noticed that Amber had several baskets sitting out, most of them filled to the brim with vegetables. There were herbs too, and a couple jugs of water, and even what looked like a package of dried or smoked meat, and...

“Are you making stew?” he asked upon putting the pieces together, which earned him a bright smile.

“I am. It’s Eleven’s favorite, so I’ve been trying to make sure I have everything on hand in case he comes home.” Her bright smile turned a bit wistful as she looked off to the side, her eyes drifting across the ruined village. “I know he’s busy being the Luminary and that what he needs to do is important, but I’m glad he can still find the time to come and see us. I worry about him, you know.”

Erik swallowed hard as his thoughts inevitably drifted back to what had happened barely even an hour ago. He wondered just how much El had told his mother about the journey they’ve had so far. She obviously knew that it was dangerous—saving the world was never going to be easy, after all—but he seriously doubted that he had told her about some of the more harrowing things that had happened.

It probably wasn’t a good idea to tell your mother about all the times you got hurt or almost died...

He didn’t realize that he was spacing out again until Amber once more interrupted his thoughts with a question.

“Would you like to help me?”

He whipped his head back up to face her, surprised.

“What?” he asked, not entirely sure if he had heard her right, which only earned him another smile.

“I know you can cook,” she said a bit wryly. “When we were all at that fancy banquet in Heliodor, I asked Eleven if he had finally learned to cook for himself while out on the road. That boy’s always been hopeless—he had no interest at all when I tried to teach him. I was worried he wouldn’t know how to go about finding food for himself, but he told me that you handled most of the cooking, and that you even managed to show him a few things too so he wouldn’t starve.”

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards in amusement at that last bit, because he had definitely said that to Eleven during the early days of their journey. Upon finding out that the Luminary knew literally nothing about how to prepare food and was liable to end up with food poisoning (or just regular poisoning) if left to his own devices, he had come to the decision that El was going to learn whether he wanted to or not, and so he had regularly roped the boy into helping him cook in the hopes that he would at least pick up something from the experience in case he ever ended up on his own. At the very least he had learned how to make a few things that were edible. Not great, but edible.

It was an improvement.

“I taught him enough to survive, in case we ever got separated,” he said, and while it was difficult to place the feeling that washed over him, it felt maybe just a little like satisfaction. He had never really taken any pride in that skill before. It was a means to survive and nothing more. He only knew how to cook because the Vikings had forced him to, and that alone had been enough to put him off the idea of trying to improve, of learning any more than he absolutely had to.

Things were a bit different now though.

“I’m not actually that good at it,” he admitted. “I didn’t have anyone who could teach me, so I only know a few recipes—just enough to get by. Never really thought much about improving...”

Not until recently, anyway.

The last time they were in Cobblestone, Eleven had told him that his mother would be happy to teach him, and he had seriously considered asking, but in the end he hadn’t been able to work up the nerve.

However, this time Amber was offering, and Erik had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“...But if you’re willing to teach me, I’d be happy to learn.”

The smile that earned him was bright and kind and welcoming, exactly like Eleven’s, and even though he knew that the two weren’t related by blood, he couldn’t help but feel like this was where the Luminary had gotten it from.

“Well, alright then!” she said cheerfully. “Why don’t you help me carry this lot inside, and we’ll get started.”

With a nod, he reached down and began to gather some of the baskets.

He still wasn’t sure exactly what to do with everything he had learned, with everything that El had told him. He still felt like he had failed, like he needed to apologize, like he had a lot to make up for and didn’t really know where to even start...but this was something he could do.

It wasn’t much, but that didn’t matter. He wanted to help however he could.

Cobblestone was important to Eleven, and that meant it was important to him too.

The quiet little village would always be El’s home.

(And maybe, if he just tried hard enough...it could one day be Erik’s as well).

Chapter Text

Chapter 13: A New Plan

Gallopolis hadn’t changed much since the last time he visited.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t exactly a good thing given that the last time he’d been there was in the future. In fact, the only real difference between then and now was the dark star hanging in the sky over the Celestial Sands. It seemed that some people had chosen to flee the city this time around too, to try and get away from the darkness looming in the distance, but the thing was, just like before, there wasn’t really anywhere for them to go. It was impossible to escape Calasmos’s influence. They would be safer just staying within the walls of their home instead of braving the world outside.

At least it didn’t seem like there was any immediate crisis to divert, so that was a plus. There were no monsters roaming the streets, no altercations breaking out, no buildings destroyed. Sure, some of the booths and stalls had been closed due to the owners packing up and leaving, but most of the shops and restaurants were still open, and even the circus was still there, still putting on shows and doing their best to entertain people in these darker times. Some of those positives were thanks to the Sultan and Prince Faris, who were both in good health and doing their best to keep their citizens spirits up, to keep their minds off of what was currently going on just outside their home.

Gallopolis truly was fine for the most part. Fear was the only real thing plaguing the desert city.

With as much confidence as he could manage, Eleven walked down the street towards the stables, trying his best to give off an air of calm. He was alone for a change. The eight of them had decided to split up after checking in with the Sultan in order to look around and get a feel for what was going on, and to maybe reassure some of the citizens that they were safer where they were, that it was dangerous to travel right now. Without hired soldiers or mercenaries to escort them, most normal people would never make it out of the desert, let alone to another town.

(And it’s not like the rest of the world was in any better shape right now anyway).

“...Ah! It is you! Mr. Eleven!”

He stopped and turned towards the sound of the voice, only to see a young woman dressed all in green with long blonde hair neatly braided down her back waving enthusiastically at him. She was standing just outside the stables with an elderly man and a young Gallopolitan soldier. It took him a moment to recognize her—it had been a long time, after all—but when the realization dawned, he was quick to offer a smile and make his way over.

“Akia,” he greeted, before turning to the solider, “and Hakim. It’s good to see you’re both okay.”

“You as well,” Hakim replied with a nod as Akia rushed up to the Luminary.

“It is wonderful to see you again!” she said cheerfully, though her bright grin dimmed a bit at her next words. “The world has become such a dangerous place lately, I was more than a little worried about you. I am so glad that you are safe. I was hoping I would get the chance to thank you properly for all that you did for us. As a result of your kind efforts, we are a family once more!”

The Luminary looked to Hakim, who didn’t seem to entirely agree with that sentiment, before glancing over at the old man standing next to Akia. That had to be their father, though he was shorter than Eleven thought he’d be. Hakim’s stories had painted the man as bitter and cruel, someone who had taken his anger out on his children, and so Eleven had gotten the image in his head of a man who towered over people, but in reality it was quite the opposite in just about every way.

Their father was grinning almost as brightly as his daughter.

Eleven looked back to the young woman that he had once delivered several letters for and smiled.

“There’s no need to thank me,” he said. “I was happy to help.” Her story and her plight had made it impossible for him to resist getting involved. He had made very good use of the Zoom spell in order to help her and her family, and every second of his time spent had been worth it.

It was the Luminary’s responsibility to save the world, but he had always believed that helping people wherever he could was just as important.

He watched as the old man—Abu, that was his name—took a few steps forward and bowed his head.

“They have told me of what you did, friend,” the man said. “I thank you. From the bottom of my heart. If it were not for your assistance, my family would be lost to me still. I feel as though I am dreaming.”

A soft, warm feeling washed over him, and his smile became that much brighter.

“I’m glad,” he said, putting as much of that warmth as he could into those two little words. It had been such a simple thing to deliver a few letters, and yet the outcome had been a family brought together—a father trying to make amends for his past mistakes and two siblings finding reconciliation in their own ways. Three people who had found each other again even amidst all the chaos in the world. Hopefully they would be able to stay together this time. At the very least, he was grateful to see that all three of them were safe within the city.

“What brings you to Gallopolis, Eleven?” asked Hakim curiously.

“Oh, my friends and I are just passing through on our way to Hotto,” he said, which was mostly true. “We wanted to check in with the Sultan and Prince Faris though to make sure that everything was okay and to see if there was anything we could do to help.”

“And yet you are alone?”

“I figured we could cover more ground if we split up. Besides, the Sultan suggested that I check out the racetrack. I didn’t want to drag them all with me for that.” Though in reality they probably wouldn’t have minded. Both Hendrik and Sylvando had an interest in horses too and would probably enjoy participating in a race, but he also knew that the general consensus would be that they didn’t have time for that.

“Well, you are in luck,” Hakim told him with a small grin. “There are currently several events lined up for the coming weeks. The Sultan was hoping to take everyone’s minds off the dark star by hosting a series of high-level races. I have heard there are some fascinating prizes available.”

Perfect. Maybe there would actually be something worth competing for. That had been his primary reason for wanting to check it out. He was still in the market for a new sword, after all.

After bidding the family a fond farewell, he made his way through the stables and down the long hall towards the racetrack. There definitely weren’t as many people or horses as before, but it was still a much more lively atmosphere than what he had found in the city streets. Perhaps the Sultan’s plan to give the citizens something to look forward to would work after all; he could already see several people grouping together, talking animatedly about the coming races.

Good.

That was good, because it was better not to give in to fear, better to stay positive and to just keep living. They needed to do whatever they could to stay strong. One day he would fix this, and then none of them would ever have to be afraid again.

In the meantime though, he would simply do whatever he could to make people’s lives just a little bit easier.

With a bit of anticipation, Eleven walked up to the registration counter and began to look over the listings for the races—and much to his amusement, he found something that immediately had him grinning from ear to ear. He tried not to laugh outright, but it was a near thing.

One of the first-place prizes was the Forging Hammer.

The legendary hammer that was supposed to be one of their “greatest treasures,” handed down through the generations since “time immemorial” if memory served.

Pawning off yet another national treasure (though at least this time it was as a prize and not just for funding).

Some things never changed...

...Wait.

The Forging Hammer.

The hammer that was used to create the original Sword of Light.

The hammer that he had used in the future to forge a new Sword of Light in order to defeat Mordegon.

Except that didn’t happen this time.

This time, the blade he carried was the original; there had been no need to make another.

That meant that there would still be a chunk of rarefied orichalcum at the Battleground, and...

An idea began to take shape in his mind. He had been trying to find a sword that he could pair with the Sword of Light, one that was just as easy and fluid to wield and that wouldn’t break under too much strain (like his Fizzle Foil had). He’d had very little luck so far, which was why he had ended up with a poorly crafted sword in the first place. Finding a partner for a legendary weapon was understandably difficult—there was only one like it in the world. It was only natural that everything else would pale in comparison.

There was an easy solution though that had only just dawned on him.

He could make another Sword of Light. He just needed the Forging Hammer, some rarefied orichalcum, and access to the Crucible.

And an excuse. He would need a convincing excuse, because he was pretty sure that outright telling all of his friends that he wanted to forge another Sword of Light and that he needed orichalcum from a giant floating rock in the sky to do so would be a bad idea (and let’s not forget access to a magical forge inside a volcano too). They might start to question his sanity, or at the very least it would earn him a lot of unwanted questions. He would have to come up with something, a way to stumble upon the information by accident. Given enough time, he was sure he could figure it out.

First things first though.

“Excuse me,” he called to the man behind the registration desk, who turned to him with a polite smile. “Can you tell me when this race is scheduled to take place?”

He pointed to the one he meant, and the man’s grin grew a bit brighter.

“Of course! This one is to be held a week from today. It is likely to be a rather popular event. I have been told that the first-place prize comes directly from the palace vaults, a true national treasure of Gallopolis! The Sultan is generous indeed to offer up such a gift.”

Generous, right... Somehow he didn’t quite believe that was it (someone really needed to have a talk with the man about how to properly budget a kingdom’s finances).

...A week, huh? That would give him just enough time to make it to Hotto so that he could check in with Miko. Then he could zoom back in order to take part in the race.

Perfect.

Maybe his luck was finally starting to change.

“I’d like to register.”

Why did he think this was a good idea?

“I’m not sure what to do... Some of my colleagues have managed to find some shards of the Lantern out in the desert. I’ve seen a couple, and they look absolutely fascinating!”

He really needed to learn how to say “no” to people.

“But I’ve heard the desert’s crawling with monsters. There’s no way someone like me could venture out there on a shard hunt... You look like you can handle yourself, though. I don’t suppose you’d be able to go out there and find one for me, would you?”

Why did he agree to come out here? His final goal, the end of his journey, was just hanging there in the sky above the Celestial Sands. This was quite possibly the last place he wanted to be, and now because he just couldn’t ignore a plea for help (no matter how ridiculous some of those pleas could be), he was standing directly under Calasmos. All he would have to do is look up to see the mass or darkness that had once been Erdwin’s Lantern, the falling star that he had forgotten about upon going back in time to stop Mordegon. He should’ve known that meddling in the flow of time would have consequences...

Eleven did his best to ignore the feeling of wrong that seemed to emanate from the sphere and instead focused his attention on trying to find a Lantern shard. He was better off just not thinking about it, because it kind of felt like he was tempting fate by coming out here. What if being so close to the dark star were to cause Calasmos to sense his presence or something? What if the monster finally decided to finish his descent onto Erdrea in order to take this opportunity to kill him, to remove the one threat to his reign of destruction?

(Though to be fair, Eleven didn’t really feel much like a threat right now. He still had a long way to go in that regard).

Refusing to look up, the Luminary kept his attention on the sands as he trudged through them, doing his best to avoid the monsters roaming about as he led his friends through the desert. He could tell that some of them were also a bit uneasy about being this close to the Dark One—especially Serena, who was highly attuned when it came to sensing presences and had been able to feel the evil pouring off of Calasmos even half a region away. Being out here was probably hard on her, and that was all the more reason to keep his head down and simply look for a shard of red amidst the sea of sand.

Now if only his friends could remain that focused, but alas that wasn’t the case. As they were passing by the stone ruins, several of them collectively stopped and looked up at the big ball of evil floating directly overhead. While he could understand the temptation, he really had no interest in staring at it (tempting fate and all that).

He was about to turn and tell them that they needed to hurry, that he’d rather not be out here any longer than he absolutely had to be, but the look on some of their faces and in particular the words that escaped Erik’s mouth had him frozen in place.

“Weird...” the thief said as a confused, contemplative look crossed his face. “It feels like I’ve done this before.”

“Done what?” asked Veronica, looking up at him curiously, bemusedly, completely unaware of what was going on—and of course she wouldn’t know, of course she wouldn’t remember, because unlike the rest of them, she simply couldn’t feel that sense of familiarity, that little bit of memory bleeding through.

Because unlike the rest of them, she never got to stand right here.

Unlike the rest of them, she never watched the Lantern fall.

She didn’t get to see that bright red star—the Luminary’s star—shatter into a million tiny pieces as the Lord of Shadows removed a threat that none of them had even been aware of at the time.

So of course she wouldn’t know.

Because she hadn’t been there.

She hadn’t been there.

Eleven could feel a weight slowly sinking into his stomach as a lump began to form in his throat.

“This,” Erik emphasized, motioning to both the desert and the star with his hands. “Standing here, staring up at the Lantern...though I guess it’s not really the Lantern anymore, huh.”

“I know what you mean,” said Sylvando in that same contemplative tone. “It’s...weirdly familiar.”

“Aye, ye’re not wrong there,” Rab agreed as he crossed his arms and stared up at what had once been a beacon of hope and part of his daughter’s favorite story. “It almost feels like we’ve been here before, like we stood right here as the Lantern fell—but that cannae be right. We were all in Heliodor when it happened.”

“Déjà vu again,” Hendrik said softly. “Perhaps it has something to do with Calasmos’ influence...”

...He hated this.

He absolutely hated this.

Eleven could feel his hands curling into fists as a sharp spike of panic shot through him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and turned away from the ruins. They needed to get moving. They had come out here to locate a shard of the Lantern for a scholar, not gawk at the dark star.

He began to walk off, knowing that his friends would notice and follow after him eventually, and sure enough...

“Wha—hey, El! Wait up!”

He could hear the sand shifting rapidly behind him, and it wasn’t long before Erik appeared at his side.

“Is something wrong?” his partner asked, to which Eleven simply shot him a look, because the answer to that was obvious. Erik caught on pretty quickly, looking rather sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Right, that was probably a dumb question considering where we are. Are you okay though? You don’t look too good...”

“I’m fine,” he said, and because he knew that wasn’t good enough, he added, “I just don’t want to be out here any longer than we have to.”

He wanted to find the shard and go back to Gallopolis with enough time left to start pushing onward towards Hotto. He was operating on a strict timeframe now. He had exactly a week to take care of what he needed to and drop his friends off in the mountainside town so that he could zoom back to Gallopolis and take part in a race. Then he just had to find a way to explain to his friends why he had decided to take part in a race where the grand prize was a massive hammer that was only good for forging.

He seriously doubted his “I’m the Luminary” excuse would work. He wondered if he could tell them that Yggdrasil granted him a vision of them using the hammer to craft another Sword of Light. Technically that wouldn’t be a lie; he had been granted a vision, just not in this timeline.

He would think on it more later. He had at least a little bit of time to figure it out.

“You’re not the only one,” Erik told him as he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “This desert heat is killing me.”

He couldn’t help but smile a bit at that. Erik wasn’t a fan of warmer climates, having grown up in the frigid northern region of Sniflheim. He had complained about how hot it was the last time too. It also probably didn’t help that they were traveling during the hottest part of the day with the sun beating down on them directly overhead. The less time they spent out in the sands, the better.

“Then I guess we better find that Lantern shard and get out of here,” he said. “This is where it shattered, so there should be one lying around somewhere.”

He stopped and turned to address the rest of his party who were trailing just a few yards behind. They were chatting quietly amongst themselves, though they gave him their full attention as soon as they noticed that he had stopped walking. It was a little strange, the sudden deference—the lack of questions or grumbling about being dragged out here for such a silly errand. He was actually surprised that more of them hadn’t bothered to ask him if he was alright given how quiet he had been during their whole journey through the desert.

He knew that some of it was a result of the very long conversation they had all had in Cobblestone, where he had gotten several apologies that weren’t necessary and had also apologized in turn for not speaking up, for not being honest, followed by several promises all around to do better. He had told them all the truth about why he hadn’t wanted to do the trials, about wanting to grow stronger, and had explained that he wanted to keep traveling across Erdrea, helping out who he could while also taking the time to improve on literally everything—their abilities, their magic, their teamwork and strategies, not to mention scavenging for better materials so that he could forge better weapons and equipment.

He wanted to make sure that next time they were prepared. He wanted to be certain they could win before seeking out Drustan again.

Being honest with them turned out to be the correct decision in the end, since all of them had listened intently to everything he had to say and had even offered their own suggestions for ways of improving. His grandfather had brought up Angri-La and Grand Master Pang while Veronica had mentioned the Royal Library and possibly visiting the Watchers again. The eight of them had spent the evening throwing around ideas, and Eleven had secretly added several more things to his list, but one of his more urgent goals hadn’t changed, and now it had even become more important.

He needed to talk to Miko.

He needed to help her find a way to save Ryu, and then he needed to request access to the Crucible.

Hopefully whatever was needed in order to get her magic mirror to work wouldn’t be too hard to find.

But first things first, they needed to get out of the desert.

“Let’s spread out and see if we can find any shards,” he said, addressing all of them. “I’ll renew Holy Protection, so the monsters should stay away, but in case any of them ignore it, be sure to call out.”

There was a chorus of agreement as he cast his spell, cloaking them all in a protective aura as they began to head off in search of anything red glinting amongst the sands. It was definitely easier said than done (he got the feeling that they were going to be out here for a while yet), but at least with Holy Protection active, they wouldn’t have to worry so much about running into monsters while they roamed about the desert. So far they had gotten lucky and most of them had stayed well enough away. While it was true that they needed to fight in order to become stronger, it was equally true that they simply didn’t have time to take on every creature they came across. He really didn’t want this task to take them all day, plus it was just too hot to spend all their time fighting monsters. They had only brought so much water with them, and it would be really bad if they ended up wasting it all just because they overexerted themselves.

They needed to be careful. It certainly wouldn’t do to have anyone pass out from heat exhaustion, after all.

As he wandered further away from the ruins and towards a rocky outcropping, Eleven began to slow his pace as his eyes caught sight of something sticking out of the sand that he had been doing a very good job of avoiding so far.

Dotted throughout the Celestial Sands were several bright green cactuses that definitely hadn’t been there the first time he had traveled through the desert. They had been there in the future though, and he could remember being a little confused by their sudden appearance. There had been a lot of them, and they hadn’t looked like normal cactuses. They had reminded him more of the cactiballs, what with their brighter coloring, and it turned out that there had been a very good reason for that.

If Hendrik hadn’t pulled him out of the way, his journey to save the world might’ve ended in the belly of a cactolotl.

Eleven slowed his pace even further and made sure to tread lightly even as he gave the unnatural cactus a very wide berth. The last thing he wanted was to draw the creature’s attention. He quickly looked to see where all of his friends were, and thankfully they were well out of range of the monster. He could admit that the cactolotls did a good job of blending in and pretending, that it would be easy to miss the innocuous little “cactuses” if someone weren’t actively keeping an eye out for them. So far he had managed to avoid them all.

...In hindsight, he probably should’ve said something to his friends, should’ve warned them about the hidden danger. It was foolish of him not to, and yet the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind since most of his concentration had been dedicated to ignoring the creeping sensation that had felt like something was crawling across his skin the closer they drew to Calasmos. The evil pouring off the dark star was almost a tangible thing, and he was certain that they had all been able to feel it.

He could still feel it, as if the air was thick with the Dark One’s presence. It made him want to get out of the desert as soon as possible, and so he actively began to search the sands for any sign of a red shard amidst the sea of almost blinding white (they probably shouldn’t have come out here in the middle of the day where the sun was at its brightest).

After spending a good several minutes searching the surrounding area, Eleven came to the conclusion that there were no shards there and that no amount of wishing on his part was going to make one just magically appear. Feeling a little defeated, he breathed a short sigh and proceeded to turn around to find a new place to look. He started to walk carefully, once again making sure to tread lightly as his eyes slowly drifting to where he knew the cactolotl was...only to see an empty patch of sand by the rocks.

His heart stopped.

The cactus was gone.

Coming to a dead halt, Eleven immediately began scanning the area to locate his friends. While Holy Protection could ward off the weaker, smaller enemies, it wouldn’t do a thing against something as large and cunning as a cactolotl, a beast that could swim through the sands just as swiftly and silently as a fish through the seas.

If it had moved, that meant it was hunting. Somehow the monster must’ve heard them—someone must’ve strayed too close. Eleven prayed that it was him, that he was the only one in danger, but he couldn’t feel the sands shifting beneath his feet, and that meant it was probably heading for the others.

One of them was in trouble, but who?

It didn’t matter. He started running and simply prayed that he would reach them in time. He had wandered pretty far away in his searching; he should’ve stayed closer to the group. He kept his eyes on the sands, looking for the telltale shift that would give away the creature that was moving beneath it, and as soon as he was within hearing range, he called out to his friends.

“Look out!” he yelled, easily drawing everyone’s attention. “There’s a cactolotl beneath us! It—”

From the corner of his eye, he saw the sand shift.

“Serena!”

His warning came too late as the sands beneath the healer began to dip and sink, and once again it felt like his heart might stop.

She wouldn’t be able to get out of the way in time.

Thankfully though, unlike Eleven, the rest of them had stuck pretty close together—and even more thankfully, the person closest to Serena was Erik, who was easily the fastest out of all of them and wasted no time putting that speed to good use. He ran towards the healer and managed to reach her right before the monster did, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her out of the way. His momentum as well as the force of the cactolotl rising up from the sands was enough to send them both crashing to the ground, rolling several feet before coming to a stop.

Eleven breathed a small sigh of relief as he watched Erik immediately spring up, drawing his daggers as he placed himself next to Serena to guard her while she recovered.

“What the hell is this thing?” he heard the thief ask as the massive beast slowly turned towards them. He had forgotten just how large the creatures were—not as big as Alizarin had been, sure, but still big enough to swallow the lot of them whole.

He saw his friends all drawing their weapons and advancing on the monster, but the cactolotl’s attention remained focused on Erik and Serena. The healer still needed some time to get back to her feet, but there was no way that thing was going to give it to her, and while Erik was fast enough to dodge on his own, he wouldn’t be fast enough to get Serena out of the way as well.

The two of them were in danger. He needed to fix that, and so Eleven threw his arm out and drew on his magic. Bolts of lightning rained down on the beast, stopping it from advancing on his friends as it flailed its short arms wildly and roared in pain. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately depending on how he chose to look at it), as soon as his spell ended, two glowing green eyes turned towards him before narrowing maliciously, and with a vicious growl, the cactolotl dove back beneath the sand.

He had effectively drawn its attention, apparently—and that was fine, just fine really, because Eleven was ready for it. He easily knew what to look for, having fought a few of the massive desert dwellers in the future.

The moment he felt the sand start to shift beneath him, he threw himself to the side just as the beast resurfaced, dodging out of the way with a roll before getting back to his feet in a single motion. He immediately bombarded it with more lightning and watched as fire, ice, and wind also struck the creature. All of his friends were beginning to close the distance, and since bigger enemies tended to be slower, the monster was unable to avoid the sharp spear that Jade shoved into its side or the gash that Hendrik cut across its back. He saw Erik make his way around to the front and cut several deep lines across its stomach before falling back to where Eleven was as more fire and ice rained down on the cactolotl.

Things were going well. They actually managed to get it on the ropes in just a matter of seconds.

Then the monster decided that instead of running away and escaping beneath the sand (you know, the smart thing to do), it would rather use its two short arms to stir up a cloud of dust and grit right in front of him and Erik. The miniature sandstorm washed over them, forcing them to close their eyes against the onslaught, but unfortunately they hadn’t been fast enough, and several particles managed to get through.

Eleven rubbed at his eyes a bit roughly, doing his best to clear them, because he knew that no matter how much they hurt, he couldn’t just stand there with them closed when there was a very hungry monster looming over him.

(And judging from the whispered curse at his side, he was pretty sure that Erik’s condition was no better).

Knowing that he had to do something, Eleven threw his arm out and forced one of his eyes open as far as he could tolerate. His vision was blurry, and he could feel both his eyes watering, but the monster was thankfully still exactly where he had last seen it.

It had to be almost dead. Veronica and Rab, along with Sylvando and Serena, had been bombarding it with spells. Eleven drew on his magic and focused, aiming carefully despite his very poor sight, and after taking a deep breath, he called down lightning one more time.

Zapple, his strongest spell. The most he was capable of at this point in time.

The monster roared in pain, and when the spell ended, he heard what sounded like a heavy thud and could just make out the watery sight of dark smoke dispersing into the air. It was followed by the rushing of sand as the hole the cactolotl left behind slowly began to fill in, and beneath that noise was the sound of even more sand as his friends quickly made their way over. He would’ve loved to be able to check on them, to make sure that everyone was okay, but he still couldn’t see, and as his eyes began to burn and water yet again, he started rubbing at them anew.

“Damn, that stings,” he heard Erik say, which meant that just as he had thought, the thief hadn’t escaped unscathed either. However, he would take sand in the eyes over deep wounds or being eaten any day. That thing could’ve done some real damage.

“Are you both alright?” he heard Jade ask.

“Yeah,” he replied. “It just blinded us is all.”

“Will the two of you stop rubbing at them?” Veronica scolded. “You’re just going to make it worse!”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Erik retorted before biting off the rest of his words with an irritated hiss and another soft curse, drawing a slight grin to Eleven’s face despite the situation.

“Just hold on you two,” he heard his grandfather say. “We should be able to sort ye out.”

He felt the soft touch of magic against his eyes and recognized it as Dedazzle, a spell that was generally used to cancel out the effects of the Dazzle enchantment, removing illusions and hallucinations from the mind. He had forgotten that it could be used for things like this as well, that it was a spell not only for clearing the head but the eyes too. He could feel the irritation lessening, and it wasn’t long before the burning and watering stopped as well. He blinked a few times to clear the last of the tears away and found that he could once again see clearly.

He smiled at Rab and offered him a very relieved “thank you” before looking over to Erik, who had also been healed, courtesy of Serena. The thief rubbed his eyes one more time before offering the healer a bright smile.

“Thanks, Serena,” he said, only for the girl to shake her head.

“I should be the one thanking you,” she said. “If you hadn’t pulled me out of the way...”

“Don’t mention it. It was nothing, really. Besides, El was the one who noticed that...what did you say it was? Cactolotl?”

He nodded his head before biting his lip uncertainly.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I noticed it was there, but I was hoping we could just avoid it. They normally don’t attack like that. They usually just hide under the sand so that only the cactus on their head can be seen, and then they wait for someone to get close before swallowing them. I thought we were all far enough away from it, but I guess it must’ve noticed us anyway and...u-um...what is it?”

Throughout his explanation, the eyes looking back at him had started to grow wide until all seven of them were staring at him with varying degrees of perplexity. Eleven wasn’t sure what had caused the confusion (he thought his explanation had been pretty thorough), but as Hendrik moved forward to speak up, the knight managed to shed some light on their bewilderment.

“How do you know so much about a beast unique to this desert?” he asked. “Especially one so seldom seen?”

...Oh.

Oh, right, he had only fought one of those in the future. There hadn’t been any the first time he had passed through Gallopolis (and thank goodness for that).

“Um...” Everyone was staring at him, and he wracked his brain for something he could say, because the real answer to Hendrik’s question was “you,” but he couldn’t exactly tell the knight that since they definitely hadn’t had that conversation this time around.

Thankfully it turned out that he did have another answer, something he had almost forgotten about given how long ago it had happened.

“I read it in a book.”

“...A book?”

The skepticism was heavy, but this time around he wasn’t lying. Mostly.

“In Gallopolis. There was a book about desert monsters. I remembered reading about them back when we were looking for information about the Slayer of the Sands.”

He saw Erik, Veronica, and Serena’s eyes light up with recognition and immediately breathed an internal sigh of relief. They had scoured quite a few books back then after being roped in by Faris to help him capture the Slayer, hoping to find some sort of information among them that would be useful on their beast hunt. One of those books had been a detailed encyclopedia called “The Deadly Denizens of the Celestial Sands” that had listed every creature to have ever been seen in the desert. One of the monsters listed had definitely been the cactolotl.

They didn’t need to know that he had only glossed over that entry at the time, and that he had effectively forgotten all about it after seeing none of the described cactuses during their first trek through the sands. What mattered was that he had read it, and there were people who had seen him read it, and therefore he had a legitimate explanation as to why he knew what a cactolotl was.

“A-anyway,” he began, wanting to get the current topic of conversation over with, “if I happen to see another one, I promise I’ll point it out this time, but I’m really hoping we can just find a shard quickly and get out of here.”

He was very much done with being out in the desert, with its monsters and its heat and Calasmos.

“Well, then you’re in luck, darling,” he heard Sylvando say as the jester made his way over. He gave Eleven a bright, satisfied grin before holding out his hand and dangling what looked like a piece of shattered red glass between his fingers, waving it teasingly back and forth in front of the Luminary’s face. It was glowing faintly, and upon getting a closer look, he could just barely make out some gold etching along the surface.

A Lantern shard.

“Where did you...?” he began to ask as Sylvando dropped the shiny trinket into his outstretched hand.

“That monster kicked up a lot of sand,” he explained, “and lucky for us, it just so happened to unearth one of these shiny little things while it was trying its best to eat you.”

The words were said playfully, but Eleven swallowed hard at the underlying jab behind that sentence and the eyes boring into him that weren’t quite as lighthearted as their owner’s tone would imply. In all honesty, he had actually been expecting either Erik or Veronica to be the one to scold him, since that was usually how it went, but they had probably been too busy worrying over Serena at the time to notice what Eleven had done.

He had purposely drawn the monster’s attention. He had attacked the cactolotl with the sole intention of drawing it towards him and away from everyone else. He could certainly try to pretend that he hadn’t meant to—it’s not like he had any real control over what a monster chose to do or who it chose to attack—but at the same time he knew he wouldn’t be fooling anyone. He had surrounded himself with people who were too perceptive, who had learned how to read him far too well.

“You were brilliant, darling,” Sylvando told him, his tone pitched just a touch lower than before and still with that underlying, knowing edge to his words. “But let’s not try something like that again, okay?”

 I saw what you were trying to do, but please don’t do it again was what he read in those eyes and heard in that voice, and in the end he could do nothing but nod solemnly as he closed his hand around the Lantern shard.

He hadn’t thought much about it in the moment—his only concern had been keeping the cactolotl away from Erik and Serena—but really, if he were being honest, this wasn’t the first time he had done something like that. During the fight with Arachtagon, he had also intentionally drawn the spider’s attention and put himself in harm’s way, because every other option had involved someone else getting hurt instead. Even in the future, he had done several risky things and thrown himself into a lot of dangerous situations simply because there had been no other choice (or so that’s what he had told himself anyway. He had probably given poor Hendrik a near heart attack on more than one occasion).

He would have to be more careful moving forward, but some habits were hard to break. He knew that he could rely on his friends just the same as he always had, that he didn’t need to worry as much as he did. All of them were strong and could easily look after themselves, but...

...But it was hard to shake the memory of Serena crying into his shoulder, of a mother and father weeping, of an entire city mourning, and the painful realization that he had only been able to keep his life because Veronica had traded hers.

The price of his failure had been too great. He couldn’t let it happen again.

He refused to allow any more people to die in his place (because far too many already had).

As if sensing the very drastic direction his thoughts had started spiraling in, Sylvando reached up and placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair a bit and effectively pulling him out of the metaphorical hole he had been digging.

“Well, I don’t know about you, honey, but I think we’ve all had enough of this heat for now.” The jester gave him a cheerful smile, all prior drama seemingly forgotten. “What do you say we get out of here, huh?”

Absolutely.

The next time someone asked him to go trekking through the desert in search of a tiny trinket, he would muster up his courage and tell them no.

(He wouldn’t, but it was nice to pretend that he could).

“Definitely,” he agreed with a nod of his head, returning his friend’s bright smile before glancing down at the shard in his hand. He wasn’t sure how much information that scholar would be able to glean from such a tiny little thing, but hopefully their efforts had been worth it.

When he raised his head, his next words were directed towards everyone.

“We’ll drop this off quick, finish up our shopping, and then grab something to eat before heading out, alright?”

There was a chorus of agreement, and without even needing to be told, they all moved in closer to Eleven as he drew on his magic and started casting Zoom (because there was no way they were walking back, for so many reasons).

As the light from his spell began to circle around them, the Luminary felt Sylvando’s hand move away from his head, but instead of letting it fall to his side, the jester placed it gently onto Eleven's shoulder, giving a soft, comforting squeeze.

...He really was doing his best to pretend that everything was okay, to make them believe that he was fine so that they wouldn’t worry, but there were times where it felt like nothing more than a waste of energy, that all of them could just see right through him anyway.

And he wasn’t entirely sure if he was grateful for that or not.

Only time would tell, really.

As the magic finally took them, whisking them out of the Celestial Sands and away from the heat and the monsters and Calasmos, Eleven couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of relief as something that had been wound tight within him started to unfurl.

He had definitely had more than enough of the Gallopolitan desert.

Hopefully their trip to Hotto would be a little less taxing.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14: An Elusive Cure

Of all the places that Eleven has been to, Hotto might be one of his favorites.

“Ah, good auld Hotto! Come on, laddie, since we’re here, we’ve got to pay a visit to the bathhouse! It’ll get rid of all yer aches and pains, I’m telling ye! Last time, I spent so long stewing in there that Jade had to threaten to physically remove me herself!”

A deep, aggravated sigh came from the aforementioned princess, and the Luminary couldn’t help but smile as a soft laugh escaped him. He could easily imagine Jade kicking down the door and dragging the former king out of the steam baths regardless of how many onlookers there were. Someday he would have to ask them about their travels. He knew bits and pieces due to sharing stories around the campfire whenever they set up camp, but the two of them had been on the road for sixteen years. They could probably fill several books with what they had seen on their journey.

“I don’t see why not,” he said, earning him a cheerful whoop from his grandfather. “I think we’ve more than earned a break. Let’s book a few rooms at the inn and then split up to take a look around.”

While it was still his goal to avoid staying at inns whenever possible, he was starting to realize that in a lot of situations it just wasn’t practical. It’s not like he could zoom them all back to the Salty Stallion every night so that he could sleep in his nice, safe room. Not only would it be a massive waste of time, but it would also earn him a lot of questions. He simply didn’t feel like dealing with it, and so staying at an inn it was. Besides, he had been doing a good job so far of keeping his scars hidden. As long as he was careful, he could surely continue to manage it.  

The eight of them made their way to the inn, booked a few rooms, and then agreed to meet up in front of the bar in an hour or so to grab lunch.

“It doesn’t seem like anything is wrong here,” Eleven began, “but we won’t know for sure unless we ask.”

“You can say that again,” said Veronica as she looked around at the few people milling about. “This place might look normal enough, but everyone here seems kind of anxious if you ask me. I suppose they are a little too close to the dark star for comfort and all, but I get the feeling it might be more than that.”

He nodded in agreement, and though he didn’t say as much, he had a pretty good idea of what else could be troubling the people of Hotto. They had lost Ryu not even a year ago (it was hard to keep track of how much time had actually passed given that he had lived through two separate timelines now), leaving Miko as their only protector, but the priestess was wounded and keeping a very large secret from her people. She was likely starting to grow anxious and desperate, but he hoped that she hadn’t become too desperate yet. It was definitely too early for her to be considering human sacrifice as a viable option—he had several more months to figure things out before that happened—but he knew that she was likely getting worried and that Ryu’s hunger was probably getting worse.

He didn’t know how Miko took care of her son prior to her very callous decision in the future, but obviously it was nothing more than a stopgap. The dragon wouldn’t be sated forever.

Eleven had failed so many people when Yggdrasil fell, but this was one tragedy that he had always felt could’ve been avoided, that if they had just been able to talk to Miko, to discuss things reasonably, maybe find a way to restrain the dragon instead of killing him...

But perhaps he could only say that because he had the blessing of hindsight. It was easy to look back on your actions and point out all of the things you could’ve done better, the things you should’ve done differently, but it was a very different thing being in the heat of the moment and having to make quick decisions or risk getting the people you cared about as well as innocent civilians killed.

He had been given the ability to change things, to prevent several tragedies from ever taking place. Most people never got that chance. In this respect at least, he was lucky.

As the eight of them went their separate ways in order to start poking around for information, Eleven began to make his way towards the west side of the town. He couldn’t help but think that of all the places they had visited so far, Hotto was easily the most peaceful, the least unchanged by recent events. It didn’t actually look all that different from the first time he had been there. People were still walking around outside, vendors were still peddling their wares; he could see smoke rising from the massive forge on the second level of the town and steam rising from the bathhouse to the east. Hotto was still very much carrying on in the same manner that it always had, its citizens doing their best to just go about with their daily lives despite the uncertainty, and it gave him hope.

Up the stairs near the bar, he could even see Atsuo and Atsuko playing while their mother stood nearby, watching the two children fondly.

Things would be different this time. It really wasn’t too late. He could fix this, could prevent the tragedy that had happened in the future. All he had to do was find Miko.

He would start his search at the temple.

...Miko wasn’t at the temple.

After climbing all the way up the many stairs, only stopping to talk to a few people along the way, he had walked into the temple only to find that the place where Miko usually sat was empty. The priestess was gone.

“Where’s Miko?” he asked, looking over to the man standing to the side of the altar.

“Miko deserts us,” the man said miserably. “Scampers off into the wild, back only briefly... Her leg is wounded, yet she refuses to rest. What is she seeking?”

That wasn’t good. Eleven opened his mouth to ask if anyone knew where she might’ve gone, but the man on the other side of the altar cut him off, obviously having overheard his question.

“You seek the priestess?” he asked, drawing the Luminary’s attention. “She has scaled the mountain slopes—go and find her there. But please be careful. Monsters dwell in the foothills. A treacherous place.”

The mountain. Mt. Huji.

She had gone to Mt. Huji, probably to check on Ryu.

He was going to have to travel into the heart of the volcano (again) in order to find her.

Great.

For a brief moment, he wondered if he could make it there on his own (he knew the way, after all), but he immediately put that idea out of his head, because his friends would definitely yell at him if he tried. He didn’t really want to drag them all into the volcano though—the dry heat of the Gallopolitan desert was nothing compared to the sweltering, blistering inferno that was Mt. Huji. Sure, they had all survived the trip last time, but there had been several comments made about feeling like they were dying and melting and “let’s never do that again, please,” which made him feel like maybe some of them should just stay in Hotto. They didn’t all need to go. A smaller party would be fine.

Honestly, he could just go by himself, but...

He had made a promise.

Back in Cobblestone, he had made a promise, both to Erik and to himself, and so there was nothing else for it.

Eleven left the temple and went to find his partner.

“So, let me get this straight. You’re going to the volcano to look for a priestess?”

...In hindsight, he probably could’ve explained that better. The bemusement was certainly high today, that was for sure. Understandable, really—Eleven would allow him that. It did sound pretty ridiculous when said out loud. It also probably didn’t help that he hadn’t fully told his friend why he was looking for Miko. He had instead told him that he wanted to find her because the people of Hotto were worried, because she had gone off to the mountain and hadn’t come back. He hadn’t told him anything at all about the dragon.

“Yes,” he said with a nod, because despite how absurd it seemed, that was exactly what he was going to do.

Erik just stared at him for a moment before running a hand through his hair and heaving a sigh that sounded more than a little distressed.

“Do you realize how hot it’s going to be in there?”

“I have a pretty good idea.” Because he did.

The look that earned him was despairing.

“You don’t have to come,” he was quick to tell the thief. “I know you’re used to colder climates, so it’s okay if you’d rather stay here.”

And the look that earned him was unimpressed, which was kind of what he expected, because something that he had learned about his friend (about all of his friends, really), was that no matter how much he might not want to do something or go somewhere, Erik would still decide to follow him anyway. Eleven could offer him the chance to stay in Hotto or even try to tell him that he should stay behind, but he knew the thief well enough to know that he would never listen. They were partners, and so Erik’s response to the Luminary’s most recent dangerous errand was obvious.

“You know I can’t let you jump into an active volcano without me.”

Eleven gave him an amused though no less grateful smile.

“Then let’s go break the news to everyone else.”

The conversation went about as well as he expected, but in the end, after grabbing a bite to eat and picking up some extra supplies, the eight of them found themselves trekking through the blistering heat of Mt. Huji in search of Miko.

He had offered all of them a chance to stay behind, had even suggested that it might be better if they didn’t all head into the mountains given how perilous the journey was likely to be, but much like Erik, every one of them had insisted on going, had told him that there was no way they were going to stay behind (Serena had even seemed excited to be vising a place that held so much spiritual significance to the people of Hotto, regardless of the fact that it was an active volcano).

About halfway down the twisting, rocky passages though, he couldn’t help but wonder if they were starting to regret that decision, if maybe they had come to realize just why he had offered them all the chance to remain in Hotto. The heat was sweltering, was probably way worse than what they had expected, and not only did they have to worry about avoiding pockets of magma and fire as they carefully picked their way along the path, but there were monsters roaming throughout the area as well. Eleven was doing his best to avoid them, but occasionally one would be blocking the way forward and they would end up with no choice but to fight.

It wasn’t until after a particularly grueling battle, one that had all of them breathing hard and reaching for their canteens to gulp down some much-needed water that the complaining finally began to start. He had actually been expecting someone to say something upon first entering the heart of the mountain, but they had all shown considerable restraint in questioning this particular decision of his. As the heat started to finally get to them, however, the hold they had on their tongues loosened.

“Urgh, it’s so hot! My outfit’s drenched in sweat, and it’s seriously compromising my style!” he heard Sylvando say with a good amount of distress in his voice. “We definitely need to stop by the bathhouse after this—I need to freshen up and restore some of my self-respect!”

“I know what you mean,” Veronica agreed with a deep sigh. “I wish we were somewhere cooler. I’m dying here...”

“I feel like this heat is sapping all our energy,” said Jade as she wiped the sweat from her brow. “We shouldn’t stay here too long.”

Eleven bit the corner of his lip to keep from saying anything. He probably shouldn’t be amused by it, but instead of feeling frustrated at their grumbling, he actually found the whole thing kind of funny.

“This heat truly is something else,” he heard Hendrik say (the man had to be absolutely roasting in all that heavy armor. He probably should’ve just forgone all of it and left everything at the inn). “It feels like my axe could melt. And that would be a terrible...axe-ident.”

...Well.

That was definitely unexpected.

You could probably hear a pin drop in the silence that followed as seven sets of eyes turned to look at the man, all with varying states of disbelief at the words that had just come out of his mouth. Eleven watched the knight’s face turn red from something other than the heat, his eyes going a bit wide, and it made the Luminary wonder if he had come up with that terrible pun in the moment or if he had actually been saving it for a situation like this. Hendrik joked very rarely, but he definitely had his moments, and after spending several months traveling together in the future, he had become more than familiar with the man’s awkward sense of humor.

“I’m sorry, I wish I had never said that,” he said, clearly embarrassed. “This relentless heat appears to have relieved me of my senses...”

Eleven couldn’t hold back anymore. He started laughing, immediately drawing everyone’s attention away from Hendrik and earning himself seven disbelieving stares instead. He raised a hand to his mouth to try and stifle his mirth, but it was to little avail. He simply couldn’t help himself.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, still chuckling softly. “It’s just...it’s a volcano, so of course it’s going to be hot—I don’t know what you were expecting. I told all of you that you could stay behind if you didn’t want to come, so you only have yourselves to blame for this.”

The words were said in good humor, especially since he was still laughing, and he knew that was how his friends took them given the somewhat sheepish looks on all their faces.

“I suppose it is a bit silly to be complaining when we volunteered for this,” said Sylvando, who had always been good at finding the humor in a situation. He offered Eleven a bright smile. “Lead on, darling! You’ll hear no more complaints from this jester.”

A similar sentiment was echoed by the rest of them, and with a smile of his own stretching across his face, the Luminary turned back to the path ahead and continued to lead the way further down into the mountain. They were almost there—he could see the opening just up ahead, and as soon as they got close enough, he was able to make out the familiar bright red fur of Tatsunaga, a dragon that seemingly lived on through cursing people. He wondered how many others had suffered this fate, if every person who had attempted to slay the beast over the years only became its next iteration instead. It was a terrible curse, but it was one that would end with Ryu. He would find a way to break it, no matter what.

As they moved into the huge cavern, Eleven finally caught sight of the woman they had come here to find. Miko was standing before the dragon, who was thankfully sleeping, gently running her hand through the fur of its tail. When the eight of them drew too close, their footsteps finally audible over the flow of the lava pouring out of the walls, she flinched and drew her arm back, turning towards them with wide, panicked eyes.

“Who—?” she began, clearly startled (understandable, since normal people didn’t really wander into volcanos). She seemed to relax, however, as her gaze fell upon them, in particular when those dark brown eyes finally drifted towards Eleven.

There was a flash of recognition as her brow furrowed, followed shortly by a look of confusion, and the Luminary could feel his heart starting to race as his breath caught and a lump slowly rose in his throat.

That shouldn’t be there, that look of contemplation, that flicker of familiarity, because even though he had been to Hotto before, he hadn’t met Miko in this timeline. He never ventured into the temple during his first stay in the town, had never shared words with or even looked at the priestess. He had only heard about her from listening to people talk while he had been wandering around, had heard the story of her and her son indirectly as secondhand information.

They had never met.

And yet she was looking at him as if she recognized him.

“Have we met before?” she asked curiously. “I feel as though I know you, but cannot recall.”

He swallowed hard as his hands clenched into fists.

“No,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “I’m afraid we haven’t met before.”

Her eyes narrowed a bit before softening as she looked over all of them. He could see that most of his friends were looking at the sleeping dragon behind the priestess, obviously not expecting to have come across a scene like this. To their credit though, none of them had drawn their weapons. The beast could literally awake at any moment and attack them, and yet no one looked tense or even nervous. They weren’t being overprotective and trying to draw him away from the monster or questioning Miko about why she was here with a dragon.

He wondered if somehow they knew, if on some instinctual level, they knew that the creature before them was not something to be killed.

(Or maybe, just like with Miko, the memories were bleeding through).

“Unexpected guests, arrive like snow in July,” Miko began, addressing them all even as her eyes once more settled on Eleven. “Will you hear my tale?”

There was hope there, along with the pain and fear that he had seen only glimpses of in the future, from words written in a diary instead of from the woman herself. The priestess had been firm and imposing, leading her people while also trying to protect her son, but there was none of that this time. This was Miko before she had given up, before she hardened her heart and forced herself to make a terrible choice.

He had been right. There was still time to fix this.

“Of course,” he said with as much confidence and resolve as he could manage. “Whatever it is you need, I promise that I’ll do everything I can to help.”

Another flicker of recognition, followed by confusion, before her face settled on a small albeit very somber smile. She looked back at the sleeping beast behind her and placed a hand gently on its tail.

“Believe it or not, this great dragon is my son,” she said. “Victim of a curse. But hope is not dead—I have a special mirror. One that shows the truth.”

She reached up and gripped the medallion around her neck

“Yet we need more still—a drop of lumen essence, to light up the glass. I have searched for it, in books and the ancient scripts, but have found nothing. Although it pains me, I cannot leave my people—they are defenseless.”

Those brown eyes rose to meet his once more, pleading.

“Bring that drop to me. Heal the pain that rends my heart.”

It was the cry of a mother desperate to protect what was most dear to her, the one thing she simply couldn’t bear to lose.

“Save my only son.”

Lumen essence. Add that to the list.

He was going to need more paper at this rate...

With a deep sigh, Eleven leaned forward and allowed his head to connect with the surface of the wooden desk he was currently occupying.

Why couldn’t it have been something simple?

The worst part about this particular request was that none of them had ever even heard of the thing before. All Miko had been able to tell them was that it was a magical extract, a liquid said to be able to wash away any impurities. She hadn’t really been able to learn anything more about it than that, other than the fact that at one point in time it had been fairly abundant. They had no idea what it looked like, where it used to come from, or even if it was still possible to find it at all. The texts that Miko had dug through just to glean that much were ancient. What if lumen essence just didn’t exist anymore? What would they do then?

What if there was no way to save Ryu?

It was a good thing he was alone right now. He could practically hear Erik telling him to stop worrying so much and that they’d figure something out in the morning. After all, that was essentially what Eleven had told all of them on their way to the bathhouse. He had wanted them to relax and unwind for the evening, and so after a quick bite to eat, they had all decided to stop by the steam baths.

It had been a good idea. It was just unfortunate that he hadn’t been able to enjoy them longer.

The last in and the first out—that was how it had to be in order to keep his secret. Thankfully no one had decided to go back to the inn with him, which meant that he had been able to change clothes without having to worry about being seen. It was starting to get exhausting, all this careful planning, always having to be mindful of where they would be staying for the night, what their sleeping arrangements were, who all he was sharing with (whether it be a room or a tent) so that he could pick appropriate times to be alone. Getting his own room was becoming more and more tempting, but he knew that wasn’t really an option. They might end up thinking that he was mad at them all or something. He would also probably get told that it was a waste of money (because it was).

This was just the way his life was now, and he needed to accept it.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, putting his own problems aside for the moment and focusing on what needed to happen in the next few days.

The day after tomorrow, he had to go back to Gallopolis in order to take part in a race. He had yet to tell anyone that. He was kind of hoping that he could just sneak out without anyone noticing, maybe leave a note so that they didn’t worry, but he got the feeling that he wasn’t actually coordinated enough for that, seeing as how that plan would involve waking up before anyone else. He was not a morning person, and traveling for over a year’s worth of time hadn’t changed that. He was pretty sure that it was physically impossible for him to both wake up before Erik and manage to get dressed and sneak out without the thief noticing.

Eleven was not stealthy. His partner had informed him of that several times (yet another thing that traveling hadn’t been able to change), and so leaving in the morning without alerting anyone was probably out of the question. That meant his only other option was to wait until they were all awake and then suggest splitting up again in order to buy supplies, forage for materials (the area around Hotto was rich in ores), and maybe check in with the locals to see if there was anything they needed before heading out. Since Miko was preoccupied and the land outside their gates was dangerous, he certainly didn’t mind running some errands if there was anything anyone needed. He at least wanted to check with the people at the forge to see if they required any more iron. Hotto was known for their weapon making, after all. Their shops brought in just as many visitors as the bathhouse, and it would be a shame if their craft were to suffer just because they couldn’t venture outside.

Someday when the world was at peace, he wanted to spend a good week here, relaxing in the steam baths, eating all of Hotto’s unique cuisine, maybe even lending a hand at the forge and learning more about crafting. That skill in particular would be useful in helping to rebuild Cobblestone and even Dundrasil, so it was definitely high on his list of things he wanted to do once Calasmos was gone.

Even though the world hadn’t been destroyed this time, there was still so much that needed to be fixed...

He heard the door click open.

Eleven opened his eyes and watched as Erik walked in, though his partner stopped upon seeing the Luminary with his arms and head resting on the desk.

“If you’re that tired, then just go to bed,” the thief told him. “You don’t want a repeat of what happened at the Warriors Rest Inn, do you?”

“I’m not tired,” he said. “I was just thinking.”

“...About Miko?”

“About a lot of things...”

He heard Erik give a thoughtful hum as he walked over to his bag and began digging through it. Eleven closed his eyes again and just listened, trying to push everything out of his head. It was hard though, because his thoughts just kept circling back to Miko and Ryu and lumen essence and how he had no idea what it was or where to find it or if it even still existed or—

He heard a deep, frustrated sigh come from across the room.

“You told us not to think about it tonight,” he heard Erik say, and for a brief second he wondered if he had accidently said something aloud. There was the sound of fabric rustling and a mattress creaking, and Eleven opened his eyes to see the thief sitting on the bed closest to the desk, watching him. “But I know you’re bad at taking your own advice. You won’t be able to get any sleep like this, so...let’s just talk about it.”

He heaved his own deep, frustrated sigh and collapsed a little further onto the desk.

“That’s part of the problem though,” he said miserably. “I don’t even know where to start...”

“Then just start with what we know. Miko needs lumen essence to make her magic mirror work. It’s supposed to be this kind of magical extract or something, right? Something that mages used to use a lot in the past.”

“Yes, and unfortunately that’s all we know. What if it doesn’t even exist anymore? What if we can’t find it? What if there’s no other way to get the mirror to work or to save Ryu and he’s stuck being a dragon for the rest of his life and he attacks Hotto and Miko has to choose between killing her son or feeding him people to keep him alive and—”

“Whoa, whoa, just—slow down, El! What are you even...? You’re jumping to a lot of really dark conclusions right now. Just calm down, okay?”

The Luminary clamped his mouth shut and buried his head in his arms.

He hadn’t meant to say that.

Why did Erik have to be so easy to talk to?

“...Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, just...man, I didn’t realize you were so worried about this. I get that you want to help them—we all do, but...you really care about this, huh?”

“Yes.” He knew how this story ended, and he wanted to change it. “Ryu was willing to give his life to save the people of Hotto. He sacrificed himself for them. He didn’t deserve what happened.”

Ryu had tried to do the right thing, had put the safety of his home before himself, only for everything to go wrong. He had stopped a threat only to create a new one. Eleven knew a little of what that was like.

He raised his head and turned to look at his partner.

“I want to help him. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

The corner of Erik’s mouth curved upwards into a small grin.

“Okay then,” he said. “Let’s come up with some ideas. We’ve traveled all over Erdrea by now, so I’m sure we’ve probably met someone who might know about what we’re looking for. It’s ancient and magical, right? We should probably start with places that have a lot of history. I would suggest asking Noah, but I doubt he’d know anything about this. Still, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try...”

Eleven sat up from his slouched position and reached for the small stack of paper he had pushed off to the side. Erik was taking this discussion seriously, was genuinely trying to help him figure this out, and so he needed to start contributing too. He couldn’t just keep lying there wallowing in self-doubt. He had promised both Miko and himself that he would fix this, and that’s exactly what he was going to do.

He jotted down “Noah” and then proceeded to write in a few more words beneath it.

“Ancient, magical, and places with a lot of history...” he repeated, tapping the end of his pencil against the corner of his mouth as he mulled it over. “...Arboria definitely comes to mind. It might be worth checking the First Forest too.”

Because Yggdrasil was about as ancient and magical and full of history as you could get.

“Rab mentioned Angri-La when we were in Cobblestone, right?” asked Erik. “He said they have a pretty long history, not to mention ties to the Luminary. Maybe someone there might know something.”

Angri-La...

Eleven was maybe just a bit scared of meeting with Grand Master Pang. She was strict and imposing and unlikely to buy any of his excuses or lies, and he still had no idea how to explain to her why he knew Quadraslash aside from the story he had given his friends, which he was pretty sure wouldn’t be good enough for a woman who had clearly lived for far longer than her looks would imply.

It was a good suggestion though.

“It’s true that the Grand Master might know something...” he mused, only to be struck by inspiration. “Ah, we could talk to Queen Marina too.” She had a second sight, so there was a chance that she would be able to help. He still needed to retrieve the Pearl of Wisdom for her, but he was sure that she would agree to aid him regardless of whether he had gotten it back yet or not.

Still though, maybe it would be a good idea to start working on her request...

“The Watchers feel like an obvious one,” said Erik. “They’ve been watching over Erdrea for practically forever. They might know what lumen essence is and where we can find it.”

He nodded in agreement as he wrote it down.

“Anyone or anything tied to the Age of Heroes would probably be a good bet,” he said as he underlined “Watchers” a few times. That would definitely be the best place to start, given their history. It was a good idea—go with the most likely one first, and if that didn’t turn up any results, then they could work their way through the rest of the list.

Eleven tapped the tip of his pencil a few times against the paper, giving a thoughtful hum as he read over what they had so far: Noah, Arboria, the First Forest (Yggdrasil), Angri-La, Queen Marina, the Watchers...

It felt like there was something obvious they were overlooking.

“I think we’re missing something...” he said as he racked his brain for an answer. Who or what else was ancient and magical and potentially full of knowledge?

He was so lost in thought, so focused on his list that he didn’t notice the sudden shift in his partner, the way his jaw clenched and his eyes clouded and the curve of his mouth fell into a grim line. When he spoke, his tone was careful and steady, as if Erik were doing his best to sound casual even though the topic of conversation was anything but.

All it took was just a few words to have Eleven feel like he was frozen in place.

“We could head to Sniflheim and check out the Royal Library,” the thief said. “We could also talk to Krystalinda. She was sealed away during the Age of Heroes, right? If lumen essence is supposed to be magical, then there’s a good chance she would know something about it.”

Eleven swallowed a bit thickly before slowly jotting down just a single word: Sniflheim.

Erik had brought up Sniflheim.

This was an incredibly significant development.

Ever since he had gone back in time—ever since he started keeping track of all the things he needed to fix, Eleven had been waiting for the right moment to say something, to bring up quite possibly one of the most important things he had written down, the thing that sat at the very top of his list (and also very close to his heart).

Mia.

He had been waiting for an opportunity to bring up Mia—indirectly, of course, since he couldn’t simply come out and tell Erik that he knew. That would only beg the question as to how he had found out, and that wasn’t a topic he wanted to get into. Eleven was perhaps not the best at subtlety, and so instead of causing a disaster by rushing in, he had contented himself with waiting for the exact right moment to say something.

But the moment never came. There had just never been that perfect time to bring it up, to sit down and talk about what his friend had hinted at towards the beginning of their journey, the promise that the seer had made him as well as the few offhand comments about everything turning out okay if he stuck with Eleven. Their lives were busy, and while the two of them were together often, he simply wasn’t good enough at the art of conversation or confident enough in his ability to segue into that discussion without completely ruining it.

It was not a topic to take lightly, after all.

So in the end, he had decided to wait for Erik to approach him instead, for the thief to tell him himself, because after spending a lot of time thinking about it, somehow it just didn’t seem fair otherwise. Eleven had learned about what happened because he was the Luminary, because Yggdrasil had shown him, because that had been the only way to restore his friend’s lost memory. Technically the thief hadn’t been given a choice whether or not he wanted to tell any of them about what had happened. He hadn’t gotten to reveal the truth on his own terms or in his own time. The ability to choose had been taken from him out of necessity, so this time Eleven had decided to let him make the decision for himself. He wouldn’t push or try to pry—he would simply let Erik tell him when he was ready.

He wouldn’t take that choice away from him again.

The fact that the thief had brought it up, that he had actually suggested making a trip to Sniflheim... Maybe he had finally made up his mind. Maybe he was finally ready to face the past, to stop running—and even though he didn’t know it yet, there was no need to worry about the outcome, because Eleven would save Mia. Erik would find the forgiveness he was promised, would get to have his little sister back, and then the two of them could be a family once again.

The Seer may be gone, but his prophecy remained, and Eleven had every intention of seeing it through.

“Krystalinda’s a great idea,” he said, because she was. Thinking about it, she was probably their most likely bet at getting information. “The library is good too. Searching through all those books would definitely take a while, but it’s supposed to be the greatest collection of knowledge in all of Erdrea. There would have to be something there.”

Veronica had brought up the library too as a way of improving their spells, abilities, and just overall knowledge, so it was already on his list. Searching for one more thing while they were there certainly wouldn’t be a problem.

He glanced at his partner from the corner of his eye and watched as the thief looked off to the side, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck. Eleven wasn’t sure what he had been expecting to see—maybe relief, maybe worry, perhaps some hesitation, and while that last one was definitely there, it was overshadowed by a look that could only be described as trepidation.

“There’s, ah...one other person we haven’t considered yet,” Erik said, the words spoken in a careful way that made him think that whatever the thief was about to say, he wasn’t going to like it.

Despite his better judgment, he tentatively asked, “Who?”

Two apologetic blue eyes met his, and Eleven realized what the answer would be just as it fell from his partner’s lips.

“Drustan.”

“No.”

“El—”

He groaned in frustration and dropped himself back onto the desk, ignoring the rather loud thump (and Erik’s flinch) as his head smacked against the wood.

“You all promised that you wouldn’t bring up the trials again...” he said, the words coming out soft and muffled (and maybe just a bit petulant, because he was owed that, surely).

“I’m not bringing up the trials!” Erik replied quickly, his tone somewhere between placating and chagrinned. “I’m not an idiot, you know. I’d be perfectly happy never going back there again, but we’ll have to go back eventually, and...and we’re just making a list right now, okay? I’m just saying we should add him to it.”

Eleven heaved a deep sigh and turned to look at his friend. It’s not like he didn’t know that Erik was right. It was silly not to add a potential lead just because he didn’t want to. This wasn’t about him, after all.

He shot the thief a disgruntled look, aiming for a glare but probably falling very short since those blue eyes lit up with amusement and the corner of his mouth twitched as if he were fighting off a smile.

“And here I thought Sylv was the dramatic one,” he said. “You’re really giving him a run for his money right now.”

Eleven gave one last sigh before sitting up, grabbing his pencil, and begrudgingly writing “Drustan” at the bottom of his list. He heard Erik get up from the bed and move to stand behind him, peering down at the piece of paper and the words that had been hastily scribbled onto it.

“So,” the thief began, “I guess the question now is where do we start?”

The Luminary already had an idea for that. He had been thinking about it ever since Erik had first brought them up.

“The Watchers,” he said. “They’re the easiest ones to reach right now since I can just use Zoom to get there. Like you said, they’ve been around for a long time, so they might know something about it. And besides, I... There was something else I wanted to ask them.”

“Really? What?”

He took a short breath, steadied himself, and prayed that his words would come out evenly. He tried to tell himself that he wasn’t lying, not really, but at the same time he knew that he didn’t actually need to ask the Watchers anything. What he really wanted was an excuse, because Eleven had a plan.

He had a plan that would allow him to craft another Sword of Light without drawing too much suspicion from his friends. All he needed to do was visit the Watchers, because by going to the Heavens Above, he would be able to pretend that he had learned about the Battleground, the Forging Hammer, and the Crucible from them. He could pretend that the Watchers had given him that information, that they had sparked the idea in him to forge a second Sword of Light—and if he really wanted to, he wouldn’t even need to pretend. He could just ask them directly about all of it and be given the information once again, or he could go to the Temple of Dawn and touch the seedlings with his friends present, just like he had before.

Sure, he would have to write off already obtaining the Forging Hammer from Gallopolis as “Luminary’s intuition” or something, but he was pretty sure he could use that excuse at least a couple more times before they started to really question him about it.

The important thing was, it didn’t all have to be a lie. He had options.

But first things first, he needed to answer Erik’s question.

“There’s another floating island to the west of Gondolia,” he said, keeping his tone even. “I wanted to see if they knew anything about it. Depending on what it is, it might be worth checking out.”

Not a lie, he told himself, even though in some ways it was (in a lot of ways, actually, but he preferred not to think about that).

Erik gave a thoughtful hum, and Eleven kept his eyes fixed on his paper.

He really hoped that was a contemplative hum and not an “I know you’re lying” hum...

“Why don’t we head up there tomorrow then?”

Eleven turned to look up at him, surprised.

“Tomorrow?”

“Sure. It’s not like we have anything better to do. Besides, we said we’d help, so we may as well start now. Hotto’s a safe enough place—we can just book these rooms for a few more nights so we have a place to leave our stuff and then use Zoom to visit some of the places we’ve already been to. The rest will have to wait for now, but this’ll give us a decent start. I’m sure no one will mind staying here a few more days.”

...Eleven was speechless.

That...

That was actually brilliant.

It was brilliant, because by visiting the Watchers before the race in Gallopolis, he wouldn’t have to hide the fact that he was competing in it from his friends. He could just tell them that he had signed up on a whim, simply because he had wanted to, and that the prize just so happened to be the legendary Forging Hammer. It would be seen as a coincidence, as a Luminary thing, a stroke of luck, because their journey had been full of those so far, being in the right place at the right time, and so no one would question it. Sure, they might end up getting a little frustrated with him for not saying anything, and they would probably question him about why he hadn’t said anything, but he had a reason for that too, since one of his original worries had been that they would think it was a waste of time when there were more important things to do.

But as it turned out, his slowly developing love for racing was important, and if anyone tried to tell him otherwise, he now had definitive proof. He still thought it was a bit ridiculous that the Sultan was actually offering one of the nation’s oldest treasures as a prize for a race, but to each their own, he supposed. He didn’t really mind.

...As long as he won, that is.

He very much needed to win. He would worry about that later though.

“Alright,” he said, smiling up at his friend as some of the weight he had been carrying began to lift off his shoulders. “I’ll talk to the innkeeper tomorrow and re-book our rooms, and then we’ll go over this list with everyone during breakfast. Since Veronica can use Zoom too, we might be able to tackle a few of these places at the same time...although I’m pretty sure she’ll want to come with to see the Watchers. Honestly, I feel like her and Serena would take up permanent residence there if they could...”

“I know what you mean,” Erik said with a soft huff of laughter. “A floating island full of magic and knowledge and ancient beings who’ve been around since the beginning of Erdrea... I know we’ve seen a lot of things on this journey and all, but it doesn’t really get much more fantastical than that.”

“Too true.” He looked down at his list, at the three-times underlined “Watchers” written there, and felt something very close to longing fill his chest. “I think I’d like to spend some time there too, once this is over...”

He could hear Erik shifting next to him, and it wasn’t long before a hand settled atop his head. He looked up at his friend curiously, because the last time the thief had done this, he had told Eleven that if he kept frowning, he might end up with a permanent furrow in his brow, but the Luminary was pretty sure that he hadn’t actually been frowning this time.

The hand on his head was both gentle and still. Eleven wasn’t used to the stillness. He was used to having his hair ruffled, mostly by Jade and Sylvando. The two of them would often reach over to ruffle it affectionately, smiling at him brightly the way that older siblings might...but this was different. Close, maybe, but definitely different. The look he was being given was something he had never seen before.

He just couldn’t place it.

It was proud and fond and wistful, but yet at the same time it was none of those things, was something else entirely.

Erik looked like he wanted to say something.

“...What is it?” he asked softly, hesitantly, only to end up wishing that he hadn’t said anything at all, because much to his dismay, that look disappeared, replaced by his friend’s usual smile.

“It’s nothing.” It wasn’t nothing.

The hand on his hair ruffled it lightly before withdrawing.

“We should probably get some sleep. Got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

He turned to walk back to his bed, but Eleven reached out and caught his sleeve, keeping him in place.

“Erik, thank you,” he said, putting as much gratitude as he could into the words. “For helping. I don’t think I would’ve been able to sleep if we hadn’t figured something out...” He would’ve spent all night racking his brain for a solution, for some way to help Ryu, to find lumen essence, and he probably would’ve gotten lost in all of the theoretical “what ifs” that could occur if he were to fail.

He never slept as well as he used to anymore; his head was always too full of everything he needed to do and everything that could potentially go wrong. He had more or less consigned himself to a night of worrying, to staying up and trying to figure this out, but now he didn’t have to, because they had a plan.

They had a plan, and because of that, he would be able to sleep.

In the beginning, he had thought that he would have to tackle most of the things on his list alone, that he couldn’t reveal too much, couldn’t let anyone see the parts of him that weren’t entirely whole anymore. He had been afraid of what would happen, afraid of his shiny “Luminary” veneer being stripped away, afraid of what would be left underneath...but in the end, it hadn’t mattered.

He had already fallen, had been struck down in battle, had needed to be saved and protected and healed—and instead of being disappointed in him, instead of no longer trusting or believing or having faith in him—instead of blaming him for everything that had happened, both leading up to and even during the trial...they had blamed themselves.

They had blamed themselves.

He didn’t need to be perfect, didn’t need to be infallible. It was okay to be weak, to allow his friends to fill in the places where he was inadequate, just as he would do the same for them.

He didn’t have to be an idyllic hero...

Erik gave him a warm smile before placing his hand over Eleven’s.

“Anytime, partner.”

He just needed to be enough.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15: A Helpful Discussion

The Heavens Above really was something else—an entire village just floating above the clouds, hidden away from the rest of Erdrea.

They really had traveled all over the world by this point, had seen all sorts of strange, fascinating things, but the Watcher village and the Watchers themselves were by far the most interesting. An entirely different species—the first species, really, to ever inhabit Erdrea. They were there from the beginning and would probably be there until the end, watching over everyone and everything below. They likely knew the entire history of the world, spanning centuries upon centuries—a wealth of knowledge that all those scholarly types and researchers down on the surface could only ever dream of obtaining.

So in a way, it made perfect sense that when he and Eleven spoke to everyone about the plan they had come up with, all of them had wanted to make another trip to see the Watchers. It was to be expected, he supposed. Their last trip had been painfully short, since they had been on a mission and all to learn about Calasmos and hadn’t really felt like they had the time to just explore or look around. Technically they were on a mission this time too, but things were a little bit different now. Sure, the threat of Calasmos was still hanging in the sky, but they all knew that they weren’t ready to take him on yet. Rushing wouldn’t get them anywhere. The Dark One had yet to descend, so they had time to figure things out and build up their strength while also traveling across Erdrea once more in order to help out wherever they could.

They’ve aided a lot of different people in a lot of different ways over the months. El had a soft spot for pretty much anyone and everyone who was down on their luck and had no one else to turn to. They’ve definitely ran some pretty strange errands, not to mention several dangerous ones, but no matter how busy they were or whatever else they were supposed to be doing, Eleven would always make time to listen to people and offer them his assistance. He believed that being the Luminary meant more than just killing monsters and saving the world, that helping wherever he could was just as important.

It was one of the many things they all loved about him.

This, however, was quite possibly one of the most difficult things they had ever been asked to do: find lumen essence to save a boy who had been turned into a dragon. It was difficult because one, they had no idea what it looked like; two, they had no idea where to find it; three, they didn’t know if it even still existed; and four, they were technically running on an unknown time limit. So far Ryu hadn’t attacked anyone (big emphasis on the “so far”), nor had anyone tried to attack him. Somehow Miko had managed to keep the dragon hidden from the people of Hotto.

That probably wouldn’t last forever though. Sooner or later her luck would run out.

They needed to save Ryu before something terrible happened, which was why they were here, visiting the Watchers. Hopefully someone would know something. They didn’t need to actually have the thing (though it would be great if they did, of course), they just needed to give them all a place to start. Surely that wouldn’t be asking for too much, right?

For the most part, Erik was trying to be optimistic about this. He kind of needed to be, since El had lost most of his optimism as of late. He was really hoping that this quest wouldn’t actually be that difficult, that someone would just know what lumen essence was and where they could find it, but at the same time he had an unfortunate feeling that they were probably going to be searching for quite a while yet. So far they weren’t having much luck, but at least the Watchers were all friendly and more than willing to converse with the lot of them. They didn’t really get visitors from the surface—the last had literally been Erdwin and his companions—so it made sense in a way that they’d be excited and welcoming and all too happy to share what they knew with the Luminary and his friends.

Or what they didn’t know, in this case.

“LUMEN ESSENSE?” asked the mayor.

“Yes,” said Eleven. “Have you ever heard of it?”

The mayor gave a thoughtful hum and closed his eyes.

Much like they usually did when looking for information, the eight of them had split off into smaller groups. Erik had decided to just stick with Eleven (since this had kind of been their joint idea and all), who had decided to go with Rab to look for the mayor. Obviously the elder, Eegoltap, would’ve been the preferred person to ask, but since he was always sleeping, their chances of getting any information from him were slim to none. The mayor was their next best bet. They had found him easily enough and had then proceeded to take a seat around one of the many round, wooden tables that were set up across the islands. This had the potential to be a long conversation after all, depending on what he knew, and so they had decided that they might as well make themselves comfortable for it.

“...HAVE HEARD,” the mayor finally said after taking a moment to think about it. “BUT DO NOT KNOW MUCH. IS MAGICAL. USED TO PURIFY CRYSTALS AND GLASS. USED BY MAGES. KNEW HOW TO MAKE.”

“So it can be made then?” asked Rab hopefully, curiously, and Erik could see Eleven’s eyes light up with curiosity too. They had all been assuming that they would have to somehow find it. The thought of making it themselves had never even crossed their minds.

“YES. BUT DO NOT KNOW HOW. ANCIENT MAGES WOULD KNOW. WOULD HAVE KEPT RECORD. PERHAPS FIND BOOK ON HOW TO MAKE. PERHAPS.”

...Damn it.

Ancient mages and books...

It just had to be that, didn’t it.

Erik fought the urge to bury his head in his hands and sigh.

Last night, he had brought it up because it would’ve been unfair of him not to, because El had known that they were missing something from their list. This was important to the Luminary, and so he had wanted to help in any way he could, but...

It was starting to look more and more like Krystalinda and the Royal Library were going to be their best bet at finding what they needed.

And that would mean going back to Sniflheim.

He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that yet or not. For a lot of reasons.

The problem with running away, with avoiding the truth, was that the longer you tried to hide from it, the harder it became to stop.

Five years was a long time to keep running—and perhaps the worst part was that he had never intended to run away for so long. From the very beginning, he had wanted to find a way to fix what he had done, had planned on asking anyone he could about it in the hopes of figuring out not just what had happened but if there was any way that he could reverse it.

He couldn’t just leave his only family like that, forgotten, trapped, and alone in the snow.

...But in the end, all he had managed to find was the answer to a single question—something that, on some level, he had kind of already known.

Mia had been cursed.

He had given his sister a cursed relic.

It was all his fault.

He should’ve tried to make her take it off.

The moment he realized what the necklace was capable of, that the story attached to it wasn’t just some myth, he should’ve just made her take it off. Maybe if she had removed it right away, before things had gotten out of hand, the curse wouldn’t have taken hold. He should’ve tried harder, should’ve said something sooner...

He was her brother. He was supposed to look out for her, protect her, keep her safe, but in the end, he...

He wanted to believe that he could make up for it, wanted to trust that what the Seer had told him would one day come to pass, that he would find forgiveness. He wanted to believe that Eleven could free Mia, that his power would be enough to break the curse. He had planned on asking him after their journey was over, after Mordegon was defeated and the world was finally at peace, but things hadn’t quite worked out that way since they now had something new to deal with. So instead Erik had told himself that if they ever went back to Sniflheim during the course of their travels (and he had known that they probably would since one of Gemma’s requests for Cobblestone involved heading into the Hekswood), he would tell Eleven the truth.

And not just the truth, but everything.

He would tell him everything.

He would tell him about the Vikings, about Mia, about the curse that he had carelessly placed on his sister, about running away and traveling and trying to just forget it all only to fail time and time again—because how could he possibly forget the biggest mistake of his life, and...

...And finally, he would tell him about the prophecy he had been given, about exactly what it was that the Seer had promised him.

That if he helped the Luminary, he would be forgiven.

He wanted to tell Eleven everything, had felt that way for a while now...but it was a terrifying prospect. There was the potential for things to go so very wrong.

He wasn’t really afraid of El thinking less of him for what had happened, not anymore at least. The Luminary was far too kindhearted and sympathetic to ever blame him, no matter how much he might blame himself—but the one thing he absolutely did not want was for Eleven to think that the only reason Erik had helped him was for himself, was because he had wanted something out of it. That simply was not the case, but he could see how a person might think that. After all, that was the reason he had broken El out of jail, the reason he had risked his own safety to get him away from Heliodor, and it was why he had made the decision so early on to stick with him no matter where his journey might lead them.

...But it honestly hadn’t taken him long to legitimately start liking the Luminary, for the two of them to become friends, for his actions to start having less to do with what he wanted and more to do with what El needed. Eventually everything else became secondary, no matter how badly he still wanted it, because Eleven’s purpose was to save the world—not just a few people but everyone—and that came with pressure and expectations and danger, and even though he was the Luminary, he was also a sixteen-year-old boy from a tiny village in the mountains who a year ago hadn’t even known that he was anything special.

And when his title was finally given to him, when he was finally sent out into the world as a beacon of hope, a light to pierce the darkness, ready to fulfill whatever destiny it was that Yggdrasil had in store for him...he had lost everything.

He lost everything.

His home, his family, his entire life, all of it had been snatched away from him...and just like that, in a single, devastating instant, Erik had become the only person he really had, the only thing left for him to hold on to, and the thief had realized very quickly that he couldn’t just be focused on himself. He knew what it was like to be left with nothing, to have the most important thing to you ripped away, but while he had gone out into the world with a handful of useful survival skills due to growing up in a harsh environment and being forced to work for the Vikings, Eleven had lived a mostly sheltered life and had never had to try and get by on his own.

El had needed someone, and the person he had been given—whether by Yggdrasil, the Seer, destiny, or whatever—was Erik, who despite having made a lot of mistakes in his life was thankfully good at taking care of people due to having spent most of his life looking after Mia. He had been put in the right place at the right time, and a part of him couldn’t help but wonder just how much Morcant had seen of his future, how much the old sorcerer had truly known about what would happen. He had put Erik on the path to redemption, had promised that by helping the Luminary he would find what he had been looking for, that one day he would be able to save his sister...but had he known about the rest?

Had he known that Erik wasn’t the only one who would need somebody? Had he actually known that El would need him too?

Had he known that the Luminary was too trusting and too curious, that he was bad at recognizing a scam and good at wasting his money (mostly by buying far too many medicinal herbs, because what if they needed them, Erik? It was better to be too prepared than not prepared enough)—and had he somehow known that Yggdrasil’s chosen, the future “savior” of the world, didn’t know how to forage for food, was terrible at looking after himself, couldn’t cook to save his life, and so in order to make sure he didn’t die before fulfilling his destiny, the man had decided to send him Erik?

Erik, who was good at surviving, was decent at cooking, was careful with his money (since he generally didn’t have a lot), and had enough street smarts and cynicism for them both?

Had the Seer given him Erik because it would be a mutually beneficial partnership, because they had both stood to gain something from it in the end? Had there been anything more to his decision than that?

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know, and he couldn’t ask, because Morcant was gone now, and all Erik had from him was a promise that things would work out if he stuck with the Luminary.

It didn’t stop him from wondering though about exactly what the old sorcerer had seen.

Just how far into the future had he looked?

Had he somehow known that Erik would—

“There was something else I wanted to ask you,” said Eleven, snapping the thief out of his thoughts as he was drawn back to the conversation at hand.

Hopefully he hadn’t been zoning out for too long (he really hadn’t meant to zone out at all). Given the nature of Eleven’s question though, he was pretty sure he hadn’t missed anything.

“There’s a giant floating rock to the south of here, hanging over the ocean,” the Luminary began. “It kind of looks like an upside-down mountain. I was just...I was wondering if you happen to know anything about it?”

Erik glanced at the Luminary from the corner of his eye as a bit of suspicion began to creep in. He never liked it when El hesitated like that. Half the time it meant that he was lying, that he was picking his words very carefully, and other times he was simply nervous, was worried about saying the wrong thing in the wrong way—but regardless of what the reason was, Erik was pretty sure that simply asking about a floating rock didn’t really warrant a careful selection of words. It was kind of a strange thing to be hesitant about.

“YOU SPEAK OF BATTLEGROUND,” said the mayor.

“Battleground?” Rab asked. “Bit of an ominous name, isn’t it?”

“YES. WAS PLACE OF GREAT PAIN. NAME WAS GIVEN AFTER BATTLE. GREAT BATTLE OCCURRED THERE. MANY POWERS FOUGHT. FOUGHT OVER ORE.”

“Ore?”

The mayor nodded before turning to look at Eleven.

“MINE OF GREAT ORE WAS THERE. LONG AGO, ERDWIN CAME. VISITED TEMPLE OF DAWN. RECEIVED GUIDING LIGHT. WENT TO BATTLEGROUND. FOUND ORE TO FORGE SWORD. SWORD OF LIGHT.”

...What?

He heard a gasp come from Rab as the old man’s eyes went wide at the revelation, and he could feel his own widening as well as he took in that information. Sure, the last time they were here, they had technically been told that Erdwin “forged” the Sword of Light, but it had been said so simply, with no real emphasis, as just a part of the story about how the Luminary had defeated the Dark One long ago. He hadn’t really thought much of it, but...but if the Sword of Light was something that could be forged, and by their own hands no less, then...

“Wait, are you...” he began as he put the pieces together. “You’re saying that the Sword of Light was forged from ore found at this ‘Battleground?’ Does that mean that if we went there, we might be able to find some? Could we...forge another Sword of Light?”

They mayor gave a thoughtful hum before nodding.

“IS POSSIBLE. VICTORS TOOK ORE AFTER BATTLE. BUT SOME MAY REMAIN. CENTURIES AGO, ENTRANCE WAS SEALED. WATCHERS WANTED TO PROTECT MINE. PROTECT ORE. BUT GUIDING LIGHT CAN LIFT SEAL. SHOULD GO TO BATTLEGROUND. PERHAPS FIND ORE. PERHAPS FORGE ANOTHER SWORD. PERHAPS.”

With a bright grin, Erik turned towards Eleven, who didn’t really look surprised by the revelation, all things considered, but that had become a fairly normal thing as of late. He would worry about it later, would add it to his list of oddities about his friend, but right now they had more important things to discuss.

“We should go,” he told the Luminary. “You’ve been trying to find another sword, right? You can’t do much better than another Sword of Light.”

That earned him a small smile, and he watched as some of the tension vanished, as his friend’s shoulders relaxed a bit and he slumped forward just a little in what looked a lot like relief. He wasn’t sure what exactly El had to be relieved about—excitement would’ve made more sense—but before he could think on it further, he saw Rab lean forward and address the mayor.

“If ye don’t mind me asking, do ye know how the auld heroes forged the sword?” he asked. “I’m guessing it wasnae done with just any auld forge.”

“DO NOT KNOW DETAILS,” the mayor said with a shake of his head. “BUT SEEDLINGS MAY KNOW. VISIT TEMPLE OF DAWN. TOUCH SEEDLINGS. SEE ERDWIN’S QUEST.”

“Thank you,” said Eleven as the Luminary rose from the table, offering the mayor a grateful smile. “You’ve been a big help.”

“AM HAPPY TO ASSIST LUMINARY. CAN ASK WATCHERS ANYTHING. LUMINARY AND COMPANIONS ALWAYS WELCOME.”

The mayor smiled brightly at them, and he watched as Eleven’s own smile grew a touch warmer.

There was something to be said about how nice it felt to be welcomed wholeheartedly, especially after spending over half a year being hunted down, forced to tread carefully everywhere they went, always having to be mindful about where they were and who they talked to and how much they revealed. Arboria had been the only other place to take them in so readily, had been the first town that they were truly able to relax in. Things were different now, of course, but it was hard to forget what they had gone through originally, was hard to forget all the whispers of “Darkspawn” and all the people who had talked about Eleven like he was some kind of monster, some harbinger of doom, like he was responsible for all of the bad things in the world and everyone’s misfortune when in reality he was the most selfless, kindhearted person that any of them could ever hope to meet.

They had been blessed with a Luminary that cared far more about other people than himself, who always put everyone else first and himself second, and he was glad that the rest of the world was finally starting to see that (even though a part of him still felt like things had been easier on Eleven before, when half the world thought he was “evil,” when most people hadn’t even known who he was. It was easier to exceed low expectations than meet impossibly high ones, after all).

After bidding the mayor a fond farewell and promising that they would be careful when visiting the Battleground—a lot of lives had been lost there, and places of great loss generally gave rise to many monsters—the three of them got up from the table and went in search of the rest of their party. Erik volunteered to track down Veronica and Serena while Rab and Eleven went off to look for Sylvando, Hendrik, and Jade. The Heavens Above was a safe enough place, so he didn’t need to worry about staying close to El. The Watchers were a peaceful people, and even the few monsters who had taken up residence with them were welcoming and friendly. He was pretty sure that the Luminary couldn’t get himself into any trouble while they were here. This was one place where none of them had to worry about watching each other’s backs.

As Erik walked slowly down the dirt path towards the nearest floating stone platform, the thief couldn’t help but get lost in thought as his mind wandered back to what they had just learned.

Another Sword of Light, huh?

It was definitely a promising prospect. Eleven had been looking for another sword ever since obtaining the Sword of Light, but nothing had felt good enough to him when paired with the legendary weapon, and so instead he had simply forgone wielding a second blade. However, he had decided that he wanted one before attempting the trials beneath Zwaardsrust, had decided to focus on being a mostly physical fighter and leave the spellcasting up to their actual mages, and so he had chosen to craft another sword, only for it to shatter at a crucial moment during the fight.

But another Sword of Light wouldn’t shatter. It would be just as strong and easy for Eleven to wield as the one he carried now.

It was a good idea. Now they just needed to hope that the method for crafting it wouldn’t involve anything too ridiculous. It was a legendary sword however, so he wasn’t about to hold his breath.

Erik made his way across the islands, keeping his eyes peeled for Veronica and Serena, though when it came to Veronica, he was probably more likely to hear her before seeing her—and sure enough, that was exactly how he found them. Although, to be fair, the pint-sized mage wasn’t yelling. She was actually just talking to one of the Watchers while Serena stood patiently nearby.

There was a book clutched tightly in her small hands.

“Are you sure I can borrow this?” she asked, sounding both eager and uncertain at the same time.

The Watcher smiled brightly and nodded.

“AM SURE. AM HAPPY TO SHARE. BOOK IS ANCIENT. IS VERY INTRIGUING. KNOWLEDGE IS IMPORTANT. SHOULD BE SHARED. FRIEND OF LUMINARY AGREE?”

“Of course I agree,” she said as she hugged the brightly colored text to her chest. “Thank you. I promise I’ll take good care of it.”

He watched the twins bid their new friend farewell before moving to catch up with the two of them.

“Hey,” he greeted, earning him a smile from Serena and not quite a glare from Veronica.

“Hello, Erik.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Eleven?”

“We split up to find everyone,” he said. “We need to head over to the Temple of Dawn to look at some Yggdrasil seedlings.”

That quickly piqued both of their interest.

“So you were able to learn something from the mayor then?” asked Veronica.

“Kind of. He didn’t really know much about lumen essence, but he told us about that huge floating rock to the south of here. Apparently it’s some kind of mine. He said it’s where the last Luminary found the ore that was used to forge the Sword of Light.”

He watched their eyes widen as realization dawned.

“Does that mean,” began Serena, “we might be able to make another one?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out. Come on.”

The three of them began making their way back towards the center island where the temple was, and although he tried to resist asking (Veronica didn’t always take kindly to his questions), curiosity eventually got the better of him.

“What’s with that book, Veronica?” he asked. “I saw you talking to that Watcher about it.”

“Hm? Oh, this?” she asked, holding up the tome. “It’s called ‘History of Erdrea. History of Time.’ It was written by the Watchers. I happened to notice it sitting on a shelf while we were asking everyone if they knew anything about lumen essence. It looked fascinating, so she let me read a little of it, and I just couldn’t put it down. I knew we didn’t have time for me to sit there and read all of it, but when I tried to give it back to her, she told me I could borrow it.”

“What’s so interesting about it?” He was genuinely curious, and he tried his best to sound it. He still half expected her to take it the wrong way like she usually did and yell at him, so he was surprised when instead of irritation or exasperation, what settled over her face was something thoughtful and a little bit somber as she looked down at the book in her hands with quiet contemplation.

“...For a while now,” she began softly, “I just haven’t been able to shake the feeling that we’re missing something. It’s almost like...like something important happened that we all forgot about.”

The three of them collectively came to a halt as he and Serena looked down at the mage, but it wasn’t out of confusion or curiosity that they had stopped walking. From the corner of his eye, he could see Serena’s expression fall into something thoughtful and somber as well, and he would be lying if he said that Veronica’s words hadn’t sparked a similar feeling in him.

“I don’t know,” she continued. “Maybe it’s just me, but...for some reason, I just haven’t been able to get what Mordegon said to us out of my head.”

Erik swallowed a bit thickly as something tightened in his chest.

“...You mean that thing about defying the flow of time?” he asked carefully, earning him a very definitive nod in response.

So, apparently he hadn’t been the only one who’d been bothered by that, by those cryptic final words spoken with a smug, sardonic grin. He hadn’t really thought about it in a while, not since El had shot down his attempt at talking about it, but knowing that he wasn’t alone in that feeling, that Veronica also felt like something wasn’t quite right, like they were all missing something, was more comforting than he thought it’d be.

“I just can’t figure out what he meant by it,” she said. “I’ve been trying to, but nothing I’ve come up with makes any sense. I mean, how can someone defy time? Then I saw the title of this book, and the cover reminded me of that tower we went to, the Tower of Lost Time, so I thought it might be able to tell me something. I’ve only been able to read a little so far, but it seems promising. I’m hoping it’ll have some answers for me.”

That did seem promising. Of course the Watchers, who had been around since the beginning of the world, would have a history book about time.

It was good that she had been able to borrow it, because Veronica wasn’t the only one who had been looking for answers.

“Can I read it when you’re done?” he asked, and there was the haughty skepticism that he had become so used to, that he had been anticipating this entire time as she looked up at him with something close to derision.

“I don’t know...” she said, her eyes narrowing as a teasing smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. “A book like this might be too complicated for you.”

And just like that, the two of them quickly fell into familiar habits.

“Now look, you little... Just because I made that comment at the Royal Library doesn’t mean I’m incapable of reading a history book.”

“You literally said that just looking at the books was making your head hurt and that you’d probably fall asleep if you tried to read one.”

“I—”

“Come now you two, there’s no need to argue,” said Serena, ever the peacekeeper, with that kind, patient smile of hers. “I’m sure Veronica will let you borrow it when she’s done, Erik. Right, Veronica?”

The mage in question gave a loud huff and turned her head away from them both as she clutched her prized book tightly to her chest.

...She didn’t say no though.

He’d take it.

Looking rather pleased by this outcome, Serena turned back to the path ahead of them.

“We should really get going,” she said. “I’m sure everyone’s waiting for us. I’m rather eager to see what those seedlings have to show us, aren’t you?”

Serena had always been fascinated by the visions that El received from Yggdrasil, the memories that he was able to tap into. She had told him once that it was almost like something out of a fairytale, especially when he had shared with her and Veronica how the World Tree had allowed him to go back in time to speak with his grandad, giving him the chance to alter just a single, tiny moment but with huge ramifications, since being given the Keystone was the only thing that had prevented him and Erik from being captured by Heliodor.

There were so many times where She had given El exactly what he needed right when he needed it. Hopefully that would be the case this time too.

And he was still holding out hope that whatever they needed to do in order to forge another Sword of Light, it wouldn’t be too ridiculous.

Like needing magma from a volcano in order to melt the ore it was made from or something.

Just once it would be nice for things to be simple.

He got the unfortunate feeling, however, that he was asking for too much.

...He had definitely been asking for too much.

Special ore from a floating island, a massive forging hammer from Gallopolis, and a magical forge located inside a volcano (he hated himself just a little bit for being right about the volcano).

Nothing about this was going to be easy, and in hindsight he felt like he should’ve expected that. He’s not sure why he ever thought that forging a magical, darkness-piercing blade would be anything other than painstakingly difficult.

Strangely enough though, Eleven didn’t seem bothered by it. He hadn’t really seemed surprised by any of it either (yet another thing to add to the list of “stuff El should’ve reacted to but didn’t”). He had taken the whole thing in stride, had only offered a few words as the rest of them discussed the visions and figured out what had to be done. He had only really spoken up when they started to decide on a timeframe for everything they needed to do and had insisted on waiting until sometime tomorrow to head for the Battleground, just in case it were to take more than one afternoon for them to find what they were looking for.

It was a reasonable enough suggestion, all things considered, and so rather than riding off on Cetacea to go and find some ore, they had decided to spend a bit more time visiting with the Watchers instead.

After conversing for another hour or so and then eating a meal with them that had consisted entirely of different variations of “sky fish” (apparently Cetacea wasn’t the only flying sea creature in the world), the eight of them had bid everyone a fond farewell before Eleven zoomed them all back to Hotto, where the Luminary had immediately proceeded to assign them all “chores.”

Apparently the people of Hotto had been having trouble procuring materials and certain food items for themselves as of late, and so they were short on a lot of things. It was dangerous to travel, so it made sense. They couldn’t really go out like they used to, what with all the monsters roaming about, and with a lack of traveling merchants, it left them dangerously low on some of the things they normally received from other towns. A sharp decrease in tourists certainly didn’t help matters any either.

With Miko preoccupied, not to mention injured, the townsfolk needed some extra help, and so after grabbing some of their stuff from the inn and dividing up the tasks, the eight of them had headed off to slay monsters, gather materials, mine ore, and purchase some goods from Gondolia.

Which was how Erik found himself trekking across the Hotto Steppe with Eleven in search of iron deposits.

It was hot. Not as bad as Gallopolis, but still really hot, and unfortunately he couldn’t complain about it, because he had no one to blame for his situation but himself. El had offered him the chance to go to Gondolia with Veronica and Serena, knowing that he wasn’t a fan of the heat, but Erik had refused and had volunteered to tag along with him instead. He wasn’t about to let the Luminary go off on his own after all, and this way all of their teams were even. It made the most sense.

Besides, he liked spending time with Eleven. In this, at least, surely he was allowed to be just a tiny bit selfish.

There was also something he wanted to ask his partner.

After being told that it was possible to get another Sword of Light, he had thought that El would be excited. He had wanted another sword, and now he had been given the opportunity to craft one that was equal to the blade he already owned. It didn’t get much better than that. He should be ecstatic, and yet so far his expression hadn’t really changed. He didn’t look any different now than he had before visiting the Watchers. In fact, it actually looked like he was starting to drift off once again, falling back into that look he got whenever he had far too much on his mind but was trying his best not to show it.

Erik hated that look.

Part of his job as of late was to make sure that their fearless leader didn’t end up drowning himself in his own thoughts, which meant that he needed to figure out what was bothering El this time and then kindly tell him to stop it.

He would start by poking at the most recent development and go from there.

“Man, I can’t believe we’ll actually be able to forge another Sword of Light,” he began, striking a balance between casual and enthusiastic. “Most ‘heroes’ only get one legendary weapon, you know.”

He saw the corner of El’s mouth twitch upwards in amusement, but it only lasted a moment before his expression fell back into that overly thoughtful look.

...Screw it.

If subtlety wasn’t going to work, then he was just going to go for it.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, dropping all pretense of this being a casual conversation and simply cutting to the chase. “Aren’t you excited?”

This attempt was successful, as he managed to startle the Luminary out of the almost melancholic stupor he had fallen into. Eleven turned to face him, eyes wide and looking as if he had just been caught in the act of some terrible crime or something (or like a kid getting caught with a handful of candy after being told he wasn’t allowed to have any more, because that analogy actually felt like it fit his morally scrupulous friend better).

“I...o-of course I am,” he said very unconvincingly, and if Erik hadn’t been suspicious before, he certainly was now.

“You don’t look it,” he told him plainly, watching carefully from the corner of his eye.

“I’m...it’s just...”

Eleven heaved a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping forward just a bit as he turned his eyes towards the ground.

“I am excited,” he said softly. “It’s just... I thought that getting the ore, the Hammer, and then going up to the forge would be easy since we already know where everything is, but...I just realized that it’s not going to be as simple as I thought...”

“...You thought that forging a sword in a volcano was going to be easy? Seriously?”

They clearly had very different opinions on what qualified as easy.

“No, that’s not...I didn’t mean...!” His words trailed off into a frustrated groan as he came to a stop and buried his face in his hands. “...Why am I so bad at this?”

Erik came to a stop as well and turned to face him.

Honestly, the whole situation would’ve been funny—and to be fair, it still kind of was—if not for the fact that El seemed genuinely annoyed at his inability to put his thoughts into words.

“You’re not bad at it,” he told him. “You’re just trying too hard. You had no problem back in Cobblestone. Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

Eleven lowered his hands, took a deep breath, and began walking again, with Erik falling into step beside him once more. He watched that familiar hesitation wash over his friend’s face, as if El were once again trying to choose his words carefully. He hoped that it was only due to being anxious and not because the Luminary was planning on lying to him...

The two of them walked several paces in silence before El finally opened his mouth to speak.

“The Cru—I-I mean, the forge is located inside of Mt. Huji,” he began, and Erik wanted very badly to question him about that slipup, about what he’d been about to say, but he knew that if he did, Eleven would probably stop talking, and that was definitely the last thing he wanted.

He would let it go for now.

“The volcano is a sacred place to the people of Hotto,” El continued. “Only certain people are allowed to go up there, and so there’s a huge stone gate that blocks the way to the top. I don’t think they’re going to just let us in...”

Honestly, he hadn’t really thought about that. It was true that they would probably need permission, more than likely from Miko, as well as some kind of special key to be able to get in...but there was an easy solution to that problem that Eleven seemed to be overlooking.

“Can’t you just tell them that you’re the Luminary and you need to use the forge for something important?”

Eleven stopped walking again, and Erik watched him shift back and forth nervously, suddenly looking rather uncomfortable as a slight grimace crossed his face. He was also very pointedly not making eye contact and keeping his gaze fixed firmly off to the side and towards the ground.

“I don’t...” he began uncertainly. “I don’t like the idea of using my title to force people to do what I want. I’d rather earn it. I made a promise to Miko that I would save Ryu, and so I won’t ask her for anything until I’m able to keep it. I don’t want her to think that... It’s not like I’m helping her because I’m the Luminary or because I want something out of it. I’m doing it because I can, because it’s the right thing to do. I’d rather keep my title out of it.”

...Sometimes it surprised him just how alike the two of them could be, how similar their thoughts sometimes were. After all, he had been worrying about something just like that only mere hours ago, about his actions being misconstrued and misunderstood as purely self-serving.

“I get that...” he said as he shifted his weight back a bit and crossed his arms over his chest. He could definitely understand what El was getting at, probably more than his friend would ever know, but at the same time...

Even though a part of him still felt like their journey had been easier on Eleven when half the world believed he was the Darkspawn (since no one had been holding him to some sort of lofty, impossible standard, including Eleven himself), it also bothered him that people had believed he was the Darkspawn, because El was probably the farthest thing from evil that a person could get.

It was good that he wasn’t being spoken of and treated like some sort of monster anymore, that people were no longer blaming their misfortune on him like some sort of convenient scapegoat for all the world’s problems. He had hated it, the whispers and the slander and the scoffing.

El was their Luminary. He deserved so much better than that.

“...But is it really so bad, being recognized as the Luminary?” Erik asked, genuinely curious, because while he knew a little of how his friend felt about his title, they hadn’t really discussed it. Back in Cobblestone, Eleven hadn’t wanted to. He hadn’t wanted to have a conversation, had only wanted someone to listen, and so the thief had decided to respect that (for the most part) and hadn’t said anything.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to help him with it though.

Eleven raised his head, and those bright blue eyes met his for a moment before the Luminary once again looked away. Erik got the feeling that he was debating with himself on whether he wanted to actually answer that question or not, and that alone made him think that maybe the answer was yes. Maybe Eleven really didn’t like being recognized by his title. He knew his friend wasn’t ashamed of it or anything, though he also wouldn’t exactly call him proud (mostly because he was pretty sure that El didn’t have a single arrogant bone in his body). It was more so like a badge of honor to him, a responsibility that he had accepted as his, something that he didn’t care to boast about but that he also wouldn’t shy away from.

Despite being chosen by the World Tree, Eleven never acted like he was anything special (and that was just one of the many, many reasons why he was).

The Luminary closed his eyes before taking a deep breath, followed by an equally deep sigh, and as he breathed out, it felt like he was releasing something else along with it, as if he had decided to simply let whatever hesitation he had been holding on to go.

When he opened his eyes, they were still guarded, but he met Erik’s gaze without looking away and even offered the thief a small, sheepish smile.

“You know I’m bad at reading people,” he said as he began walking again, though he waited for the thief to fall into step with him once more before picking up his pace (they were supposed to be looking for ore deposits, after all). “You pulled me away from quite a few ‘swindlers’ in downtown Heliodor.”

He couldn’t help but smile a bit at that, a soft huff of laughter escaping him, because that’s exactly what he had called them as he dragged the Luminary away from an old fortune teller who had tried to sell the overly trusting country boy a holy water for five times the price.

Eleven’s smile brightened for just a moment as something almost fond flashed across his eyes, but unfortunately it didn’t last as the curve of his mouth evened out and a look very close to worry washed over his face.

“What if...” he began softly. “...What if I were to go around proclaiming that I’m the Luminary? How do you think they’d react? What if I...what if I were to tell everyone that I’m the Luminary, only for people to start thinking that they owed me something, that they had to be nice to me or give me things or treat me like I’m someone special?”

...Oh. So that’s what this was about.

In a way, he kind of understood what El was getting at with this, but at the same time he was pretty sure that he didn’t need to worry about it as much as he obviously was.

And besides...

“Well, I mean,” Erik began with just a hint of teasing in his voice, “you kind of are someone special.”

El shot him a look from the corner of his eye, half annoyed and half embarrassed as his face turned just a touch red.

He gave his partner a rather amused (and maybe just a little bit pleased) grin.

“Sorry,” he said, even though he wasn’t.

Eleven simply sighed in exasperation as he turned his attention back to the road.

“What I’m trying to say,” the Luminary continued, “is that I’d rather not go around proclaiming to everyone that I’m the Luminary if I can avoid it, because I don’t want people to think they have to behave a certain way around me, and...and because I’m just not good at reading people.”

That was the second time El had brought that up. He was just about to open his mouth and ask what being able to read people had anything to do with being recognized as the Luminary when Eleven, to his surprise, continued his train of thought...and for a moment, Erik’s blood ran cold.

“I don’t think I’d be able to tell the difference between someone who was kind to me because they actually wanted to be...and someone who felt like they had to be.”

Erik nearly choked on the breath he had been taking as something coiled tightly in his chest, and without even thinking, he came to a dead stop and reached out to grab Eleven’s arm. The Luminary gave a startled yelp as he was pulled back and spun around, those blue eyes widening in bewilderment and maybe just a bit of concern.

“E-Erik?! What—?”

He had to fix this.

He had to fix this right now, because—

“You know it's not like that, right?” he asked in a rush, nearly tripping over his words. “You know that I—we—none of us are like that, right?”

Because it was very important for El to know that it wasn’t like that, for him to know that none of them were being “kind” just because they had to be, just because he was the Luminary. He needed El to know that, because Erik had plans, dammit, and most of them hinged on Eleven taking all of his words and everything he did at face value and not assuming that he had any sort of ulterior motive behind his actions.

Yes, he wanted El to save Mia, and yes, that was why he had decided to travel with him, but that wasn’t why he had stayed, and that wasn’t why he was helping him, and...

And he had literally just been thinking about this a few hours ago, how the one thing he absolutely did not want was for El to think that he had only helped him, had only been kind to him because he was the Luminary, because Erik wanted something from him, and now his friend was bringing up the very thing that he had been afraid of, and—

El looked completely confused for a brief moment, just blinking at Erik as if he didn’t understand the question, before realization suddenly dawned in those bright blue eyes, followed very quickly by panic.

“N-no, I didn’t mean...!” he began, verbally flailing a bit as he raised his hands in what was probably supposed to be a placating gesture. “I wasn’t talking about—I know none of you are like that! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think that I... I know you would never...”

El closed his eyes and took a rather shaky breath before continuing.

“I trust you, Erik,” he said softly, and although his words were quiet, that didn’t make them any less honest. “I trust all of you. I know you’re not here just because I’m the Luminary. Maybe I was... It’s possible that I was worried about it at one point, about all of you leaving me if I wasn’t good enough, but I know that isn’t true. I know there’s more to it than that. I’m sorry if I worried you.”

A hint of a smile graced his face as those bright eyes lit up with a gentle humor.

“I might be bad at reading people, but I know you all better than that.”

There was something to be said about the wave of relief that crashed over him upon hearing those words. The fear that had coiled tightly around his heart began to lessen, and as he took a deep, calming breath in order to steady his thoughts, it eventually released its hold on him entirely. El was a terrible liar, and so he knew that he could trust what he had said, that the Luminary wasn’t simply saying what Erik wanted to hear.

He didn’t need to worry about his friend doubting his intentions, and so he would push the fear aside and cast it away.

He let go of El’s arm—hopefully he hadn’t been holding on too tightly—and crossed both of his over his chest again as he forced himself to calm down.

“I would hope so,” he said, and because he wasn’t really good at this, he fell back on familiar habits and flashed his friend a playful smirk. “Luminary or not, I’m pretty sure none of us would’ve stuck around this long if we didn’t like you.”

That earned him an amused, cheerful grin, followed by soft, bright laugher, and just like that, all the remaining tension in him vanished. It was funny how something so simple could put him so at ease—something as simple as a smile from his best friend—and it took him a moment to remember what exactly the two of them had even been talking about before the conversation had taken that rather dramatic turn.

Seriously, El had really been prone to making him worry as of late.

Speaking of which...

“So, is there anything else you’d like to get off your chest?” he asked, earning him a curious, confused look from his partner. “We’ve already stopped three times now, so before we get back to ore hunting, I figured I might as well ask.”

He watched El’s face as confusion turned into contemplation, his brow furrowing as his eyes drifted towards the ground. It actually looked like he was legitimately thinking about it, and Erik began to wonder if maybe he had been wrong, if maybe there really wasn’t anything else bothering Eleven this time...but that thought was cut tragically short as he watched those blue eyes suddenly widen, a soft “oh” escaping his lips before his expression twisted into something nervous and anxious.

Erik took a fortifying breath. He had known there would be something else.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Um...”

“You know you can tell me.”

El bit the corner of his lip as he looked up a bit uncertainly.

“So, um, when we were...when we were in Gallopolis,” he began carefully, “I went to the racetrack to look at the races.”

“...Okay?” He wasn’t really sure where the Luminary was going with this.

“There’s a race tomorrow morning.”

...He still wasn’t really sure where he was going with—

“The first-place prize is the Forging Hammer.”

There it was.

He wasn’t even really surprised at this point, because of course it would be. Of course the Sultan would be trying to give away yet another sacred, national treasure that they needed. That was just the way things worked, apparently.

Erik once again found himself fighting the urge to bury his head in his hands and sigh.

Their lives could never just be easy.

“And I...might’ve signed up for it.”

...But at the very least, they were never boring.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16: A Thoughtful Gesture

Eleven wasn’t sure exactly how he had expected this conversation to go, but he was pretty sure this wasn’t it.

“You signed up for a race in Gallopolis?” Erik asked.

“Yes,” he said, even though he was aware that his friend already knew that, since the question was being asked in response to Eleven having told him that he did. It was asked in that deadpan, borderline exasperated and disbelieving voice that all of them tended to use anytime they thought he was being ridiculous, where they would repeat back to him what he had just said in the form of a question (it was Veronica’s specialty, because she was the one who got exasperated with him the most).

“And you decided not to say anything until now? What, were you planning on just leaving tomorrow and not telling anyone?”

“Um...” Maybe. He didn’t say that, but he got the feeling that Erik somehow heard it regardless.

“So you thought it would be okay to just leave without us, huh? Because apparently you seem to think that none of us would want to come and watch you compete?”

“...What?”

That was...not the direction he thought this would be going in.

“You know that Sylv and Hendrik were both interested in the racetrack after the Sultan mentioned it, and I had fun watching the last one. So did Veronica and Serena, and I’m sure Rab and Jade would love the chance to see you race too.”

Eleven just stood there blinking at his friend in confusion, and he watched as the straight, almost unimpressed look on his partner’s face slowly grew into an amused smirk (because of course he had found this entire exchange funny, and of course he hadn’t actually been irritated with Eleven. That’s simply the way Erik was).

“What?” the thief asked, only just biting back a laugh. “Did you think we’d tell you that we don’t have time for that or something?”

“I...maybe?” He honestly didn’t know anymore. When he first went to look at the races, he had assumed that they would see it as a waste of time, because there were so many more important things for them to be doing than entertaining one of his new hobbies. The fact that the Forging Hammer was being offered as one of the prizes had only lessened that feeling to a small degree, and he had still been debating on how to properly bring it up without earning himself a good deal of frustration or suspicion. After all, he had signed up for that race a week ago, and he had fully planned on using his “I’m the Luminary” excuse to explain away his good luck at having picked the correct race to enter, but having it all in his head was a lot easier than finding the right way and the right time to bring it up.

He wasn’t really sure if this qualified as the right time or the right way, but he had very quickly been running out of time, and so when Erik kindly gave him the opening he had needed, he had simply gone for it. Thankfully his friend had taken it a lot better than he thought he would. He could only hope that everyone else would be as accepting.

As Eleven floundered a bit for something to say, for some way to better explain himself, he saw Erik’s expression soften as his teasing smirk fell into something a bit gentler, something almost fond.

“I told you before that it’s okay to want something for yourself, El,” he said. “You don’t always have to be thinking about what’s best for everyone else, or only about what’s best for the world. I’m glad you decided to sign up for a race. Sure, the Forging Hammer being the prize is a nice coincidence, but even if it wasn’t, I don’t think any of us would’ve told you that it was a waste of time. I wouldn’t have, at least.”

The Luminary swallowed a bit hard as a lump slowly began to form in his throat.

He was trying. He was trying really hard to keep those words in mind, to not feel too guilty every time he did something just because he wanted to. Most of the time the things he wanted coincided with people or places that needed help, and so generally he didn’t have to worry about feeling like he was wasting everyone’s time by dragging them all across Erdrea, but this situation in particular he had been very on the fence about.

Yes, he had signed up for that race because of the Forging Hammer, because he had realized that he could craft another Sword of Light...but at the same time, he would’ve been willing to sign up for less than that, for something as simple as some crafting materials or an accessory. He had enjoyed racing, had loved the feeling of competing against others in something that he had always been good at, that he had essentially been doing ever since he was old enough to sit on a horse. Winning first place while pretending to be Prince Faris had been a rush of euphoria that he hadn’t been expecting, that he had never experienced before, and that excitement hadn’t lessened when he competed again in the future (they had been in Gallopolis during a race, and both the Sultan and Faris had insisted that he should take part to help “boost morale” after the near tragedy that their city had narrowly avoided).

Erik was saying that even if they stood to gain nothing from him competing in a race that he wouldn’t have told Eleven that it was a waste of time, that none of them would’ve, and he wanted to believe that, wanted to believe that they would’ve been okay with it, but it was hard not to feel guilty about doing something that served no real purpose, that was purely for his own enjoyment. Sure, back when they were in Octagonia, they had spent time in the casino mostly because it was fun, but that had been more about giving his friends a much-needed break while they waited for the MMA fighters to recover so he could talk to some of them about going to Cobblestone. It’s not like they had gone there just to gamble, or that Eleven had been the only one looking forward to seeing the casino. His reasons hadn’t been self-serving.

Competing in a horse race just because he wanted to was very self-serving when he was supposed to be focusing on protecting people and saving the world.

...But Erik had said it was okay to want things for himself.

“So you wouldn’t have been mad?” he asked. “If I had signed up for a race where the prize didn’t happen to be something we needed, you would’ve been okay with that? You wouldn’t have told me it was a waste of time?”

“Of course not,” Erik told him, as if the answer was obvious. “Now, if you had tried to leave without telling me, then I might’ve been mad about it. I’m guessing that was your original plan, before we found out about the Hammer?”

“...It might’ve been.” He’d had several versions of that plan actually, but all of them had involved not saying anything to his friends and coming up with a story later.

Erik heaved a sigh and ran a hand down his face in exasperation, and Eleven immediately felt a bit sheepish about the whole ordeal. In hindsight, maybe it had been silly of him to try and hide what he was doing from everyone. Erik was right about Sylvando and Hendrik in that they both liked horses, and he knew that his partner, along with Serena and Veronica, had enjoyed watching him race during the Sand National. Rab and Jade had also expressed an interest in the races when he had told them the story about their time in Gallopolis, and he had promised them both that if he competed in another one, he’d make sure they were there to watch (and while he had kept that promise in the future, he had yet to fulfill it this time around, and now that he thought about it, he had almost just broken said promise by accident).

Maybe he really had been overthinking this. Maybe it was okay to allow himself just a little bit of fun despite everything that was going on. Maybe he didn’t have to feel guilty about it, and maybe no one would judge him for it.

Maybe it was okay to take just a little time for himself.

“Sorry,” he said, feeling well and truly chastised. “I guess I didn’t need to hide it, huh?”

“No, you didn’t,” Erik told him, “though I’m actually not surprised that you did. You’re really good at overthinking things.”

“I know.” Because he did. “I’ll work on it.”

He would try to, anyway.

“Good.”

The thief gave him a smile before motioning for the two of them to start moving.

“Come on,” Erik said. “Now that that’s settled, we should probably get back to looking for iron...unless there’s anything else you need to get off your chest?”

It was said in good humor, and so that’s how Eleven chose to take it, returning his friend’s smile as he shook his head.

“Nope. I think that was everything.” Everything he was willing to say, anyway.

“Then let’s go.”

Erik began walking, and Eleven was quick to catch up with him, falling into step beside him. The silence that settled between them was comfortable, companionable, and something that was very familiar. It reminded him a bit of the earlier days of their journey...as did Erik’s systematic habit of breaking it.

“Once we all get back to Hotto, we should grab something to eat and then spend some time at the bathhouse again,” he said, and while the words themselves were casual enough, Eleven knew that tone all too well.

Erik shot him a look from the corner of his eye, his mouth quirking upwards into a mischievous smirk, and the Luminary immediately felt his stomach sink.

“And don’t worry. I’ll help you tell everyone how you were planning on leaving us all behind in Hotto while you ran away to go play with ponies in Gallopolis.”

Eleven heaved a sigh and buried his face in his hands. Apparently this was what he got for trying to hide something from his partner.

“You aren’t going to let this go, are you.” It was unfortunate that he already knew the answer.

“Nope.”

He wasn’t sure if he had ever heard a “nope” sound quite so cheerful before.

At least one of them was able to find the humor in this situation.

(Now he only hoped that the rest of his party would take it as kindly).

The stables in Gallopolis were packed. Eleven had barely taken more than a couple steps inside before finding himself faced with a sea of people. Everywhere he looked there were Gallopolitan citizens milling about, talking amongst themselves excitedly while also oohing and aahing at all of the horses as the stable hands did their best to get the mounts outfitted for the coming race. Out in the paddock he could see a group of children running around and playing while their parents stood nearby, chatting with the knights and soldiers who were all working on ushering people down the long corridor towards the stands.

The race was due to start in half an hour, and there were still just so many people everywhere. He hadn’t been expecting a turnout like this. With the Sand National, it had made sense that the stands would be filled with pretty much every citizen in the sultanate, but this was just a normal race. Sure, the grand prize was a priceless treasure from the palace vaults, but surely that wasn’t enough to draw a crowd like this. He knew that the Sultan and Prince Faris had been doing their best to drum up excitement for the races in the hopes of taking their citizen’s minds off the current chaos in the world and the dark star hanging over their desert, but for their efforts to have been this successful...

“Ah, Eleven! There you are, old friend!”

...He got the unfortunate feeling that something else was at work here, and that overly cheerful voice in his ear brought with it a sense of impending doom (maybe that was a little dramatic, but given what he and his friends had been put through last time, he felt that the sudden sinking feeling in his stomach was more than warranted).

The Luminary turned to see none other than Prince Faris walking towards him, all bright smiles and cheerful exuberance. There were no guards flanking him, and he wasn’t dressed in the royal armor, so it was safe to assume that he wouldn’t be taking part in today’s race (and thank goodness for that). While he had definitely grown up a good deal since the last time Eleven had seen him, he was still pretty sure that the prince wasn’t yet skilled enough when it came to riding for him to be able to compete in an actual race.

It really was a good thing that he had come clean to his parents and his people when he did. With everything going on in the world now, who knows what he would’ve been asked to do if they had never learned the truth.

...There’s a part of him that can’t help but wonder if things would’ve been different for the Gallopolitan prince if Dundrasil had never been destroyed, if Eleven had been able to grow up as the prince he technically was and be raised in the world of royalty and politics that he had been born into. All of the kingdoms had been on good terms with each other, and their rulers had visited one another often enough for his grandfather to have considered all of them good friends and comrades. He and Faris were only a month or two apart in age, and so it was possible that they might’ve ended up playing together when they were younger, that their parents would’ve visited each other’s kingdoms as both of them were growing up.

In another world, a much kinder world, they might’ve even grown up to be friends.

But there was no point in dwelling on what-ifs. Both of their lives had turned out alright, all things considered, and despite their rocky start, he didn’t dislike the prince. He had actually been pretty impressed by the person he had become in the future. This Faris wasn’t quite there yet, but he would get there eventually. He cared a great deal about his city and his people, had been willing to risk his life for them, and that was the most important steppingstone there was on the way to becoming a good leader.

One day he would surely become a great sultan...but the almost gormless look on his face as he walked up to Eleven and clapped a hand on his shoulder made the Luminary think that he really had a long way to go yet.

“I am so glad I caught you,” he said. “With all of these people around, I was afraid I would not be able to find you before the race.”

“Was there...something you needed me for?” He prayed that the answer was no.

“No,” Faris told him, and Eleven gave an internal sigh of relief. “I simply wished to warn you, and to perhaps repay one of the favors I still owe you.”

“...Warn me?” That didn’t sound good, and the sinking feeling from earlier returned tenfold.

“Indeed. When my father saw that you had signed up for this race, he decided to use that information in order to draw the crowd you see before you now.”

...What?

“Why would people come to see me race?” Sure, he had performed well during the Sand National, and he had technically helped to save the city from the Slayer of the Sands, but surely that wasn’t enough to...oh no.

The answer dawned on him in the same moment that Faris opened his mouth.

“Because not only are you our kingdom’s savior, you are also the Luminary! And the prize for this race is none other than the Forging Hammer—a treasure that my father says once belonged to the Luminary of legend himself, Erdwin! Of course the people would want to see you compete in order to reclaim a priceless treasure that was once used by your ancestor! It makes for a compelling story, does it not?”

...Oh no.

He had forgotten about that. He had forgotten that when they were visiting the Sultan, both Rab and Hendrik had spoken to the man about what had happened, about how Carnelian had been possessed and how Mordegon had been manipulating all of them from atop the throne of Heliodor, hiding behind the face of a trusted friend as he turned the world against the Luminary and condemned anyone who would stand with him. They had cleared up the misunderstanding, thankfully, but during their whole explanation, they had mentioned that Eleven was Rab’s grandson, which automatically marked him as the last prince of Dundrasil...and therefore the Luminary.

They hadn’t explicitly told the Sultan that, but it didn’t take a genius to line the pieces up—and of course when he was trying to keep his people’s morale up and give them hope that things would get better, he would choose to capitalize on the fact that the Luminary had signed up for a race in their city.

Of course he would, because it made sense from a ruling perspective, and it’s not like Eleven could really fault the man for doing it, but...

At the same time, he had been hoping to keep a low profile.

So much for that plan, apparently.

“...You do not seem happy, friend.”

“I’m fine,” he said, because Faris didn’t know him well enough to know it was a lie. He needed to just push his looming panic away for now and focus on the task at hand. “I take it that was the warning you mentioned?”

“Indeed. Racing against one such as yourself, the competition is likely to be fierce. I also did not want you to be too surprised by the fact that some people might recognize who you are.”

“...And the favor?”

“Ah, right.” Faris began to lead him towards the far end of the stables where one of the stable hands was tending to a slightly familiar horse. “I am told that this is the finest steed in all of Gallopolis. She is the same horse that you rode for me during the Sand National, and when I saw that you would be racing, I made sure to request that she be given to you again. I still know little of horses, but I assume that riding one you are already familiar with will be of some help.”

Eleven approached the mare and placed a gentle hand against her snout, and as she nuzzled into his touch, he allowed himself a small smile as some of his nerves began to settle. Faris wasn’t wrong; riding a horse that he was familiar with would definitely make things easier. The two of them had made an excellent team last time. She had listened to every one of his commands flawlessly and had even read his intentions through the subtle shifts in his body as they tore around the track. He could remember thinking that the soldier who presented her to him hadn’t been wrong, that she clearly was the finest steed in all of Gallopolis.

He couldn’t have asked for a better partner to see him through this, and he was both grateful and a little bit touched by the rather thoughtful gesture from someone who he had previously referred to as gormless.

“Thank you, Faris. This really helps a lot.”

“Think nothing of it,” the prince told him, his words a stark contrast to the rather pleased look upon his face. “I am merely returning a favor.”

Almost immediately after saying those words, however, the grin that he had been wearing this entire time suddenly slipped off his face, replaced by something almost pensive and perhaps just a touch worried. Curious, Eleven gave him his full attention, because this was definitely something new. Before, whenever he was out amongst his people, Faris had practically bled self-confidence and had done his best to appear the perfect, competent prince in front of the masses...but here he was, looking almost nervous and just a little bit solemn, and judging by the way he was shifting his weight, it was obvious that he had something he wanted to say.

“What is it?” asked Eleven, because sometimes people just needed a push to say what was on their mind (he would know, since a certain thief had definitely been pushing him a lot lately).

“It is nothing of importance,” Faris began quietly, “but I wanted you to be aware that if we had known you would need the Forging Hammer for your quest, my father would have simply given it to you. It was not his intention to make this difficult for you, but he could not take back his offer when so many were excited about a national treasure being offered as a prize for a race. I hope you understand.”

His mind inevitably drifted back to the future, to a sultan who had handed over the Hammer with no strings attached, simply because Eleven had needed it, because they had asked him for it.

Despite being a bit clumsy with his kingdom’s budget, the man had a good heart.

“I know he would’ve,” he reassured Faris, offering him a small smile. “And I do understand. I may not like that he decided to tell everyone that I’m the Luminary, but I promise I’m not holding anything against him.”

He watched as the Gallopolitan prince heaved a rather relieved sounding sigh, his entire body slouching forward as the tension left him (apparently he had been a little more worried about it than his demeanor had implied).

“Good,” he said airily, followed by that familiar, lighthearted laugh as his remaining nerves left him. “That is good—and you should know that even though we are technically not supposed to choose sides during a race, the royal family will be cheering you on!”

Faris gave him a thumbs up and a bright smile.

“I shall see you after the race, friend!”

And with that said, the prince whirled around and disappeared into the crowd.

Once again, he couldn’t help but feel like the two of them might’ve grown up to be good friends if fate had played out differently.

Eleven turned back to the mare that was to be his mount for the race, thanked the royal stable hand for all his hard work, and then effortlessly pulled himself up into the saddle. The crowd had thinned out considerably during his talk with Faris, and it looked like the guards had managed to usher most of the people toward the stands, leaving the long corridor that led to the racetrack mostly empty.

He figured that he may as well head over there now. All of his friends were already seated, having left considerably early to make sure they got good seats while he had taken his sweet time and wandered around the city. He hadn’t wanted to arrive at the stables too early, since he had been worried that there wouldn’t be anything for him to do, so instead he had chosen to get there with just enough time to pick out a mount and head for the track.

Running into Faris had not been part of his plan, but in the end it had turned into a pleasant surprise as he now sat atop one of the finest horses in the kingdom, a racing partner that he knew he could rely on.

He hadn’t said as much to his friends, but Eleven had actually been kind of nervous about this race. A lot was riding on it for him, and if he didn’t win, there was a good chance that he wouldn’t be able to craft another sword. Sure, there was always the chance that the winner would at least let him borrow the Hammer (he was the Luminary, and that was one situation where he would be willing to use his title to get what he wanted, no matter how much it bothered him), but it would simply be better if he could just win the thing outright and therefore not have to worry about it. He had more than enough things to worry about, after all. He definitely didn’t need to be adding to his already very full plate.

But after talking to Faris and being gifted a brilliant mount, he actually felt pretty good about the whole thing. A lot of his nerves had settled, and as he made his way through the gates and onto the track, he allowed himself to get caught up in the excitement of the crowd, to get lost in the cheering and the feeling of anticipation as he made his way towards the starting line to wait for the race to begin.

What he wouldn’t give to be able to spend several more days just like this...

He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to compete in a race where he didn’t need to worry about the outcome, where he could simply fly down the track for the sheer enjoyment of it.

When the world was safe, he definitely needed to come back here. Maybe he could even compete in the next Sand National if everything worked out just right. He wouldn’t even mind spending some time to help Faris with his horsemanship if the prince was still struggling when the event rolled around once again.

He couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

Yet another thing he could add to his second list.

He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen so many people squished into one place before.

“Man, would you look at this crowd,” said Erik as he looked out over the sea of Gallopolitan citizens as they were ushered by several guards into the stands. Thank goodness the seven of them had decided to head for the track early in order to find good spots. Being caught up in that mob would’ve been a nightmare. He hadn’t even realized that there were that many people actually living in Gallopolis. Just where had all of them been hiding the last time they were here?

“I didn’t realize these races were so popular,” said Jade as she glanced around at the rows around them that were steadily filling up. “Though I suppose Gallopolis is known for its racetrack.”

“While that may be true,” began Veronica, “I’m pretty sure this isn’t normal. This is almost as many people as the Sand National, and that’s the biggest race of the year for them. I know the grand prize for this one is a national treasure and all, but it still doesn’t make sense that this many people would turn up for it.”

“Well, perhaps everyone simply decided that they needed something to take their minds off the dark star for a bit,” Serena suggested, ever the optimist. “The Sultan did say that was why he was holding so many races in the coming weeks.”

“While that is certainly a possibility,” said Hendrik as he too surveyed the crowd, “this seems a bit excessive.”

Erik definitely agreed with that as he looked around at all the very excited citizens as they chatted amongst themselves, their voices all blending together into a cacophony of noise. He could practically feel their anticipation bleeding into the air as several of them pointed excitedly down at the track where some of the racers were finally starting to gather. It just didn’t make any sense, the almost restless energy that seemed to emanate from all the people around them. He was tempted to just go up and ask someone exactly what was going on and why everyone seemed so excited about the race, and he was seriously starting to consider it when all of a sudden a slightly familiar voice cut through the wall of commotion around them.

“Excuse me, would it be alright if my brother and I sat with you?”

Both he and Serena turned around to see who was addressing them (since the two of them were standing at the end of their row) only to see a girl in a green dress with long blond hair braided down her back and a young Gallopolitan soldier hovering at her side. He watched the girl’s eyes widen a bit as a bright smile split her face, and he suddenly remembered where he knew the two of them from just as she opened her mouth.

“Oh, I thought it might be you!” she said cheerfully. “You’re all Mr. Eleven’s friends, right?”

“Hello, Akia,” greeted Serena with a polite bow of her head. “It’s ever so nice to see you again—and you as well, Hakim. I’m glad that you both seem to be doing well.”

“Thank you! It is wonderful to see all of you again too.”

He and Serena quickly moved over a bit to make room for the two siblings to join them (Veronica would just have to deal with being a little bit squished next to Hendrik. It was her own fault for trying to hog the best vantage point for herself).

Erik turned his attention back to the racetrack, keeping his eyes peeled for Eleven. However, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t keeping half of it on the conversation going on next to him.

“It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen a race,” said Akia. “I had forgotten how much fun this is!”

“It is rather exciting, isn’t it,” Serena agreed cheerfully. “I really enjoyed the Sand National, so I’m very much looking forward to this one.”

He felt a sudden tap on his shoulder and looked over at Jade, who was watching the exchange curiously.

“How exactly do you know them?” she asked him, though it wasn’t asked quietly enough not to interrupt the two girl’s conversation.

“El helped to deliver a few letters for them,” he said, because that was the easiest way to explain what the Luminary had done without getting into the family drama that had been (and kind of still was) their situation. If they wanted to share the whole story, that was their decision to make. He wasn’t one for spilling other people’s secrets.

“Speaking of Eleven,” began Hakim as his eyes scanned their group as well as the few surrounding benches, “I do not see him with you.”

“Oh! That’s because he’s competing in the race,” Serena told him, earning her two very surprised looks, although one quickly melted into excitement.

“He will be racing?” Akia asked gleefully. “Then I shall be sure to cheer him on! I wonder which horse he shall be riding. Perhaps it will be one that father has been caring for.”

“I hope he did not arrive too late to pick an appropriate mount,” said Hakim. “This race is likely to be quite fierce.”

Erik perked up a bit at that. It was obvious that the two siblings had been in Gallopolis this past week, which meant that they would likely know what was up with the ridiculous turnout for a race that on the surface wasn’t really anything special. Sure, the Forging Hammer was a national treasure, but most of the citizens couldn’t possibly know the true extent of its value, right?

...Right?

“Hey, can I ask you guys something?” he said, earning him two curious looks (three if he felt like counting Serena’s). “What’s up with all these people? I get that racing is a big deal in Gallopolis, but we definitely weren’t expecting a crowd like this.”

“...Have you not heard?” asked Hakim, looking rather confused, and for some reason those words felt just a little bit ominous.

He wasn’t quite sure why, but Erik suddenly had a slight sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Heard what?”

The two siblings shared a glance before turning to the seven of them with identical looks of bemusement.

“That the Luminary will be taking part in today’s race.”

Erik nearly choked on the sharp breath he took, and next to him he could feel Jade suddenly tense up and saw Serena’s eyes go wide. He didn’t turn to look, but he was pretty sure the rest of their party was having similar reactions to those words.

“Where...where did you hear that?” he asked.

“The Sultan announced it a few days ago.”

...Dammit.

He heard a very loud, very irritated groan come from Veronica and turned to watch the girl drop her head in her hands in frustration.

“Honestly, of all the... Of course he would decide to tell people that the Luminary was taking part in a race, because nothing can ever just go smoothly for us. After everything we’ve done for him and that pathetic prince, I can’t believe he would take advantage of Eleven like this!”

“Come now, lassie,” began Rab, his voice somewhere between placating and weary (he got the feeling that the former king was irritated by this too but was trying his best not to think too badly of his old friend). “I’m sure he didnae mean anything by—”

“Did you just say Eleven?”

All seven of them froze and slowly turned to look at Hakim and Akia, who were staring at them with wide eyes and a good deal of shock.

“Did...did you just say that Eleven is the Luminary?”

...Oh no.

Erik very quickly began to panic and wracked his brain for something to say, to try and minimize the damage that Veronica had just accidently caused.

Because none of them knew.

None of them knew that Eleven was worried about people finding out that he was the Luminary, that he was afraid of being treated differently, of people believing that they had to behave a certain way around him just because he was important. He was afraid of false kindness and false friends and people only seeing his bright, shiny title and not the person who existed underneath.

He didn’t want to be admired or fawned over or hailed as a hero just because Yggdrasil had chosen him.

He just wanted to help people wherever he could and one day become strong enough to protect the world.

He didn’t want everyone to know that he was the Luminary, and even though it sounded like the Sultan hadn’t actually singled him out, meaning that El probably didn’t get bombarded by people while he was trying to get ready for the race (thank goodness for that), there was no way that everyone wouldn’t be able to figure it out once the race actually began.

Eleven would not be leaving the track quietly.

“I cannot believe...that Mr. Eleven is actually...”

Erik met two sets of still very surprised eyes and did his best to organize his thoughts. He tried to ignore the fact that he was about to reveal something that only he knew, and he was pretty sure he was going to have some questions to answer later, but this was important.

“Yes, he’s the Luminary,” he said, cutting right to the chase, “but he doesn’t want people to treat him like he’s someone special because of it, so please don’t... Just don’t treat him any differently, alright? He didn’t help you because he’s the Luminary—he did it because he wanted to, because that’s just the way he is, okay?”

He could feel several sets of eyes boring into his back, but he chose to ignore them for now, focusing only on the two in front of him instead. The shock slowly melted away, leaving behind a look of quiet understanding, and he watched as a soft but no less brilliant smile bloomed across Akia’s face as she clasped her hands together and pressed them close to her chest.

“I would not dream of it,” she said. “If anything, it makes what he did for us all the more important. That he would take the time to stop and lend a hand to two complete strangers... Erdrea truly is blessed to have such a wonderful Luminary.”

Something in him settled at those words.

This was what he had wanted, for people to be able to see how truly fortunate they were that Yggdrasil had chosen Eleven, to know that the world was in good hands. He had wanted people to stop blaming him and calling him a Darkspawn, for them to see the kindhearted person who always put others before himself even when they didn’t deserve it (especially when they didn’t deserve it). El was the type of person who got emotionally invested in everything he did, who felt that delivering letters and bringing a family together was just as important as freeing a boy who had become a dragon, as fighting monsters and saving an entire town. There was no favoritism, no ranking system, no “levels of importance,” because to him, all of it was important.

It didn’t matter whether he was aiding an orphan or a king; he would give his all regardless of the situation.

That being said, it’s not like Erik didn’t understand Eleven’s trepidation, his desire to keep his title a secret. He was already carrying everyone’s “perceived” expectations—he really didn’t need their literal ones too.

...And there was also the chance that some people would scoff at what he was doing, would complain about his actions, about why he hadn’t dealt with the dark star yet, why he was instead just going around Erdrea and doing things like gambling at a casino or relaxing in a bathhouse or taking part in a horse race.

El was finally starting to lighten up, to get back a little of what he had lost when the Lantern fell. Erik had been trying really hard to drill it into his head that it was okay to do something because he wanted to, because it was fun, that he didn’t need to be so worried or concerned with everyone else all the time and didn’t need to feel guilty about taking some time for himself. It was okay to make plans for the future, to think about what he wanted to do when this was over, to not be so focused and so afraid of what was going on now that he didn’t bother thinking about what he would do after.

He could still hear Eleven telling him that there was no point in thinking about his future, because anything he might want for himself wouldn’t really matter if he were to die...but while they were in Hotto, while they were making their list, for the first time since this whole disaster had started, the Luminary had expressed a desire for something he wanted to do once the world was at peace, after Calasmos was destroyed and their journey finally came to an end.

It had been such a simple thing, just a tiny step in a better direction, but hearing it had meant so much to the thief that just for a moment, Erik had been left speechless. He had been momentarily overwhelmed with pride and relief and a deep sense of longing, a feeling that he had very nearly given in to despite his better judgment.

Whatever plans El made for his future, he desperately hoped that he could be a part of them.

A tap on his shoulder drew him out of his thoughts, and he turned to look at the somewhat worried princess next to him, who was looking at him with a good deal of suspicion and a lot of questions burning in her eyes.

“Erik,” she began, and he had a pretty good idea about what she was going to ask, “did Eleven—?”

The beating of drums and the blaring of trumpets, not to mention the sudden deafening roar of the crowd cut her off as everyone’s eyes were suddenly drawn toward the racetrack. It seemed that the race was finally about to start.

There wasn’t time for a conversation right now, especially not the one he was pretty sure she wanted to have. He glanced at Jade from the corner of his eye and mouthed “later,” to which she nodded in understanding before giving her full attention to what was going on below.

It was pretty easy to spot Eleven amongst the other riders. He kind of stood out, both due to the fact that he wasn’t wearing any armor and because he was probably about half the age of the other competitors. However, that hadn’t mattered before and it certainly wouldn’t matter now. If he had managed to find himself a good horse to ride, then his natural talent as well as the four to five years he had under his belt would see him through this. Sylvando had gushed about how impressive El had performed during the Sand National, and as an experienced horseman himself, that praise wasn’t to be taken lightly.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Eleven would win this.

As the racers all began to take their places, Erik caught sight of movement from the corner of his eye and watched with mild amusement as Veronica began shifting around, leaning this way and that, clearly trying to find the best view despite her short stature. He could see Sylvando smiling down at the pint-sized mage before he turned to Hendrik and whispered something to the knight with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. The Hero of Heliodor glanced down at Veronica and then back to the jester uncertainly (understandable, because Erik probably wouldn’t trust that look from Sylvando either), but after an encouraging nod and a bright smile, the man breathed a deep sigh before he reached down, grabbed the not-actual child (despite how she sometimes acted), and then perched her on his shoulder.

The look on her face was priceless, and Erik tried very hard not to laugh, throwing a hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet (he failed miserably).

“H-hey!” she shouted as she flailed her arms a bit while Hendrik attempted to steady her. “What do you think you’re doing? I’m not a child, you know! You can’t just pick me up like that!”

Shooting a rather disgruntled look towards Sylvando, who also was doing a poor job of hiding his mirth, the knight took a deep, calming breath followed by another sigh.

“My apologies,” he said, sounding rather chastened. “You were struggling to find a decent view of the race. I thought that perhaps this would provide you with one, but if you would rather not—”

He began to try and lift her off only for her to grab at his armored shoulder.

“Wha—now hold on a moment! I didn’t say to put me down!”

Erik did his best to bite back his laughter, but judging from the glare Veronica shot him from atop Hendrik’s shoulder, he was pretty sure that she had heard him. Poor Hendrik looked even more put-upon than before. The whole situation was hilarious, and Erik was still chuckling to himself as he turned back towards the racetrack to look for his partner.

He could see El sitting half turned around in his saddle, clearly scanning the crowd in an attempt to locate the seven of them amidst the sea of people. When their eyes finally met, Erik offered him an encouraging smile and a wave before pointing towards Hendrik and Veronica. He could tell the moment the Luminary caught sight of them as an amused grin split his face and his shoulders shook a bit with suppressed laughter (there would probably be some gentle teasing in Veronica’s near future).

El raised his hand and gave them all a cheerful wave before turning back towards the starting line just in time for a trumpet to sound, signaling for all the racers to move forward and take their positions.

Eleven looked completely at home down there on the track, as if this were his hundredth race instead of his second.

...Maybe, when the world was safe, he would want to come back here again.

Maybe he would decide to take up racing as an actual sport, as something more than just a hobby. He was more than good enough for it, and even while living in Cobblestone, it wouldn’t be impossible for him, not with the Zoom spell at his disposal, not when he could come and go as he pleased. He could easily make a name for himself, could choose to become a famous racer amongst the desert knights, someone that people from all over Erdrea would come to Gallopolis to see...and maybe, if everything worked out the way he wanted it to, Erik would one day be able to take Mia to watch one of his races.

And then the two of them would cheer him on just as enthusiastically as the seven of them would now.

He could feel something wistful settle into his chest at the thought.

Erik had a lot of plans for the future, and he liked to think about all of the possibilities, about all of the options and what-ifs that no longer felt like they were out of reach. There were so many paths available to him and so many things he wanted to do—treasures to find, places to explore, sights to see, and a life to build.

Erik had a lot of plans...and all of them included Eleven.

(He was well beyond the point of being surprised by that).

He would give almost anything to be able to stay by the Luminary’s side, no matter what destiny had in store for him, no matter where life chose to take him. Whether it be traveling the world together or living a peaceful life in a quiet little village together or some combination of the two, one of the few things he actually wanted for himself was just to stay with Eleven.

He would spend the rest of his life walking next to him if he could.

A horn sounded, loud and sharp, piercing through even the roar of the crowd—and just like that, the racers were off, tearing across the track. The noise around him was almost deafening, and he could barely hear himself think, but there was an energy to it that he couldn’t help but get caught up in as once again he prepared himself to support Eleven in the only way he could.

By placing every bit of faith he had in the Luminary.

...Erik had a lot of plans, and all of them included Eleven.

Because somewhere along the way, he had lost the ability to ever picture his life without him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17: A Better Direction

This had to be one of the best feelings.

The wind rushing by him, the sound of hooves beating against the ground in a rhythmic gallop, the feeling of speeding around tight corners and shifting just enough to avoid obstacles without losing his line—the best line he could find to both optimize his time and make it around each and every well-placed pillar—all while knowing that he could be overtaken at any second. He loved it, that rush of so many different things at once, where there was no room for worry or doubt or any of the other problems that usually weighed him down, where all that mattered was flying down the course as quickly as possible, taking the best route available, and focusing only on himself, his horse, and the track.

All he needed to do was trust his racing partner and ride to the best of his ability. Worrying about the other racers and what everyone else was doing would only slow him down, would break the rhythm that he had managed to build up, and would inevitably ruin any chance he had of winning the race. He couldn’t control what anyone else did, and so there was no point in thinking about it, no point in glancing back to see where they all were.

There was no one in front of him. That was all that mattered, and if he truly was the best rider with the fastest horse, then he would win so long as he didn’t break his concentration.

He could do this.

It also helped that the course was fairly straightforward. Unlike some of the others he had seen on the list, this one hadn’t looked too complicated when he signed up. No consecutive twists and turns, no alternate routes, just a normal loop around with a few hazards sprinkled here and there that were thankfully easy enough to avoid.

...Maybe the next time he raced, he would have to sign up for one of the more challenging courses. It would be fun to test himself, to see exactly what he was capable of. After the Sand National, Sylvando had called him brilliant and exceptional, had told him that he had a natural talent and that he knew riders twice his age with less than half his skill, despite most of them having ridden for many years longer than Eleven had. The Luminary had tried to brush it off, to say that he was exaggerating, but he knew that his friend had meant those words. While Sylvando was prone to dramatics and liked to embellish certain stories, the praise he offered was always genuine.

He truly believed that Eleven was good at this, that he was just as capable as the desert knights, a group of experienced riders who had been practicing and racing against each other for years.

All of his friends believed in him, were all standing there in that massive crowd cheering him on, and just knowing that was enough to push him to do the best that he possibly could. Yes, he wanted to win this race for himself, but he also wanted to win it for them, because just like Erik had said, none of them had been irritated with him. None of them had thought that signing up for a race was a waste of time. Even before he had told them that the first-place prize was the Forging Hammer that they needed, all of them had seemed excited about going to Gallopolis to see him race.

However, they had been irritated with him when Erik informed them all that Eleven’s original plan had been to leave them behind in Hotto, but that was to be expected (and he had known that it was coming since his partner had flat out told him that he was going to bring it up). In the end, he had promised them all that he would do better, that he wouldn’t try something like that again.

He needed to have more faith in them. They were his friends, after all—his family. It was okay to rely on and trust them more than he did.

He didn’t have to worry so much about possibly disappointing them.

Repetition breeds familiarity and habit, and so if he just kept reminding himself of that fact, then one day it would eventually sink in. One day he wouldn’t keep second guessing himself and worrying about not being good enough, because what he had told Erik wasn’t a lie. Deep down he knew that none of them were with him just because he was the Luminary, that surely they wouldn’t have stuck around this long if they didn’t actually care about him. Even in the future, when he had thought that his power might be lost forever, when he had believed that the thing that made him special—the thing that would let him overcome the darkness—had been stolen, it hadn’t stopped them from traveling with him again, from trying their best to save the world.

Even though he had failed, they hadn’t given up on him. Their faith in him didn’t waver.

He really could never thank Yggdrasil enough for blessing him with so many amazing companions.

Maybe when the race was over, he would suggest grabbing a bite to eat at that nice restaurant with the cactus cutlets. Veronica had mentioned wanting to try the signature dish, and he was rather curious about it as well (it was hard to imagine a prickly cactus being edible). It was still pretty early in the day, so surely they would have enough time to relax just a bit before heading off to the Battleground to look for orichalcum. Surely he could treat his friends to a nice meal to thank them for how incredible and supportive they’ve been.

Assuming he didn’t get mobbed the moment he left the track, that is.

Because as much as he might wish for it to be otherwise, there was no way the crowd hadn’t figured it out by this point, that he was the Luminary. He was more than aware that he kind of stood out amongst the other racers, and while the Sultan hadn’t singled him out specifically and declared “this boy is the Luminary” or anything, it wouldn’t take much for people to put the pieces together.

It was entirely possible that staying in the city, even just to have lunch, would be a bad idea. Sure, the massive turnout for the race kind of implied that people were excited to see him, but at the same time he couldn’t help but worry that some might not be too happy about it, to find out that the Luminary, Yggdrasil’s chosen—the reincarnation of a legendary hero—was participating in a horse race instead of doing something about the dark star hanging over their desert.

They might look at him and his actions and think that he was unconcerned about the task that he had been given, that he cared more about his own interests than protecting the world.

The last thing he wanted was for anyone to lose hope because of him.

During the beginning of his journey, he had kind of gotten used to people thinking poorly of him, to expecting the worst thanks to Mordegon and his lies, and while he had tried to close his heart to them—to the rumors and the slander and the calls of “Darkspawn” that seemed to follow him everywhere he went, that simply wouldn’t leave him alone no matter how hard he tried—it had still hurt to hear the whispers, to hear so many people refer to him as a monster, as something less than human.

For them to think so badly of him when they didn’t even know him...

It was so easy to create an image of someone in your head, to let preconception and misconception color your opinion. That was why it had meant so much to him when Doge Rotondo had come to their rescue in Gondolia, when the man had ignored everything that he’d been told about the Luminary and had allowed Eleven’s actions to show him the truth instead. He had defied Heliodor in order to save them, had put himself at risk for their sakes, and all because they had taken the time to save his boy, to cure a child who had been hurting. Such a simple act of kindness, going out of their way to help someone just because they could, because it was the right thing to do, had made a huge impact, had changed an entire town’s perception of him—and in that moment, he had known that all of the little things he did were just as important, just as necessary, as making it to Yggdrasil and saving the world.

He had always liked helping people, had always had problems with saying no if someone asked him for his assistance, and there had definitely been moments on his journey where it had felt like he was wasting everyone’s time by agreeing to aid every single person who was down on their luck and didn’t know what else to do.

He was the Luminary, after all. He was supposed to be saving the world.

...But the thing was, to some people, “the world” didn’t mean Erdrea.

To some people, the world was a place or a person or a job, something that they loved deeply and couldn’t picture their life without.

To a little girl in Heliodor, it had been her cat.

To a sailor in Lonalulu, it had been a wooden figure from his mother.

To a priest in Zwaardsrust, it had been saving the departed souls of his kinsman.

To parents it was their children, and to siblings it was each other, and to rulers it was their kingdoms.

For so many people, “the world” was simply something they loved more than themselves.

His mother had told him once that he was her whole world, the one thing she couldn’t bear to lose, and at the time he had been too young to fully grasp what she had meant.

He understands it a little better now.

His purpose is to save the world, and to him that means everyone. It means doing whatever he can wherever he can. It means saving as many lives as possible, protecting whoever needs it, and coming to the aid of anyone who asks. Sure, maybe some people would call that a waste of time, would say that he should only be focusing on the big picture, on stopping the thing that would one day descend onto Erdrea and destroy them all—and it’s not like that opinion was wrong, but at the same time...

If all he did was focus on training himself, on fighting monsters and learning spells and improving his abilities...

If all he cared about was getting stronger in order to beat Calasmos, just how many people would be left to fend for themselves during that unknown stretch of time, to suffer alone while he was away?

What if he had never gone to Octagonia to look for the MMA fighters? What if he had never stopped in Gondolia on his way to Hotto?

Two towns that had needed help, that would’ve been destroyed and overrun by monsters if he hadn’t interfered.

Countless lives lost in an instant, and all because no one would’ve been around to come to their aid.

What was the point in saving “the world” if he couldn’t protect the people living in it?

He had gone back in time to change things, to save the lives that had been lost and the homes that had been destroyed, because even though he had stopped Mordegon and restored Yggdrasil, the people that were left had still been hurting.

There had been too many children who had lost their parents, and parents who had lost their children, and people who had lost everything, and just...too much that had been lost.

It couldn’t happen again.

To him, the world meant everyone, and this time around things would be different. He wouldn’t fail.

And that meant that he would win the Forging Hammer, find orichalcum at the Battleground, track down the elusive lumen essence, and craft himself another Sword of Light.

It wasn’t going to be easy, but he would find a way.

First things first, however, he needed to finish this race.

Everything was going fairly well so far. For the entirety of the first two laps, he hadn’t seen anyone. He had pulled ahead early on and had managed to maintain his lead, but he knew not to let his guard down, because the final lap was always where things changed. It was where Sylvando had temporarily pulled ahead of him in the Sand National, and he was expecting something similar from at least one of the racers this time as well.

After all, while he had been standing around waiting for things to get started, he had noticed that one of the knights taking part in the race was Faiz, Gallopolis’ favorite rider, a man who had several wins under his belt including the previous Sand National. He had been injured last time, so Eleven hadn’t been able to race against him, but so many people had been convinced that he would win the event despite all the rumors about Prince Faris being a magnificent horseman. Seeing him as a participant in this race should’ve made him nervous, but instead it had only made him more anxious to get started. The part of him that loved riding and had enjoyed racing wanted to know just how good he actually was, if he could truly compete with the best that Gallopolis had to offer.

It helped that Faiz had told him outright that he wouldn’t be going easy on him.

“You are Eleven, are you not? The one who rode for Prince Faris during the Sand National.”

“Yes.”

“And according to the Sultan, you are also the Luminary?”

“Um...yes.”

“It is an honor to race against one such as yourself. While I was unable to watch the Sand National, Prince Faris has boasted considerably about your skill on the track.”

“...He has?”

“Indeed. I am very much looking forward to competing with you, and please know that I intend to give it my all. Though you are the Luminary and a friend of our prince, I shall not be going easy on you.”

“...I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He caught sight of movement from the corner of his eye.

There they were, right on time, heading into the final stretch: Faiz and Sharukh.

He’d had a feeling that this would happen. After all, it was important not to play your cards too early, not to go all out right from the start. The last lap was the most important, and so it was necessary to save one final burst of speed for the end, to simply maintain your position until the time was right. It was easier and admittedly smarter to just follow behind the leader for the majority of the race, to just stay close and wait, because the one in the lead always had to race more defensively, had to worry about protecting the inside line—the fastest route around the track—while the people behind could be a bit more aggressive and could also watch how the leader rode in order to pick the right moment to overtake them.

But he had chosen to pull ahead right away for a reason, because for him it wasn’t so much about what everyone else was doing but about what he was doing. He had wanted to focus only on himself, his horse, and the track, and so he had made sure to hold that position, to keep a steady rhythm as they flew around corners and bolted down straightaways. Being familiar with the horse he was riding helped in that a lot, because even though they had only raced together once, that had been enough for him to learn what he needed to, to know how hard he could push while still conserving some energy for that final sprint towards the end.

If Faiz thought that he had been pushing his mount to her limit this entire time just to maintain the lead, then he was sorely mistaken.

As soon as the finish line was in sight, Eleven leaned forward just a bit and tightened his legs, applying just enough pressure to signal to the mare that they needed to go faster, and just like she had the first time, she heeded his command flawlessly. Faiz had been slowly pulling ahead, but with one final burst of speed, the knight disappeared from his peripheral right before he rode under the stone arch, past the crowd, and over the line for the final time.

He had done it. He had won.

Eleven pulled back on the reins and slowly came to a stop, and as the rushing of the wind in his ears died down and both he and his mount began to catch their breath, he caught the sound of voices cheering, of the almost deafening roar of the crowd. He turned and looked to see people smiling and waving enthusiastically, children jumping and clapping wildly.

It reminded him so much of the Sand National, all the energy and the joy, but this time he wasn’t pretending to be someone else.

This time their excitement wasn’t because of Prince Faris.

It was because of him, and it was hard to describe the exact feeling that washed over him in that moment.

Eleven wasn’t a proud person, though he did take pride in certain things—his village, his mother, his birth parents, his companions. They were all exceptional, and he loved them all dearly. “Proud” was really the only word that seemed to fit, that encompassed everything he felt for the people who were and had been a part of his life.

It was a rare thing though for that feeling to be directed towards himself.

He looked to where he knew his friends were and saw them all smiling brightly. His grandfather and Sylvando both had their hands cupped around their mouths as they cheered, and next to them he could see Hendrik looking impressed and Veronica with her arms in the air (still sitting atop his shoulder, much to Eleven’s amusement).

Jade was clapping and Serena was waving, and standing between them was Erik, who had his arms crossed over his chest and a satisfied grin on his face. When their eyes met, he raised a hand and gave the Luminary a wave as his lips formed words that Eleven obviously couldn’t hear but that he recognized all the same.

I knew you could do it.

Feeling lighter than he had in a long time, he raised his own hand and waved back.

“...Congratulations.”

Startled, Eleven turned around in his saddle and saw that Faiz and Sharukh were approaching him.

“I can see that the prince was not exaggerating about your skill. To be so talented at such a young age—truly, you are a very gifted rider.”

He had never been very good with praise and could feel his face heating up as he rubbed the back of his neck uncertainly.

“Thank you,” he said, feeling a bit nervous about the whole thing...until the desert knight rode up next to him and offered his hand.

“I know that the task that lies before you is an immeasurable one. I wish you all the luck in the world, Luminary, and I hope that one day, should the fates allow it, I will be able to race against you once more.”

The nervousness settled, and in its place rose something quiet and hopeful.

...It was okay to want things for himself.

He shook Faiz’s hand and smiled.

“I would like that.”

There was a crowd of people outside the stables.

They were being corralled by the guards so that they couldn’t enter and so that there was a path for all of the racers to exit, but that was still a huge crowd of people standing right outside the stables.

Eleven was half-tempted to just duck into the royal dressing room and hide.

He knew that he should’ve just bolted as soon as the race was over, as soon as the Sultan had descended onto the track to present him with the Forging Hammer (much to the enjoyment of the crowd). He knew that he shouldn’t have taken so much time talking to the other racers, then some of the knights, then the stable hands, then his horse—though she had deserved just as much praise as he did for listening to him so spectacularly and seeing him through that race (she truly was the finest steed in all of Gallopolis)—because now he was just standing in the middle of the stables by himself with a massive hammer in his hands and no idea what to do.

He was just starting to debate the merits of using Zoom in order to escape (because Evac didn’t work in cities) when a hand fell onto his shoulder. He barely managed to bite back a yelp as he spun around, only to come face to face with Prince Faris, who was once again all bright smiles and exuberance.

“There you are, friend!” he said cheerfully. “I have been waiting to congratulate you. Truly, you were magnificent out there! Of course, I had no doubt that you would win.”

“Um...thank you.” He glanced back at the crowd uncertainly, and to his surprise, Faris actually noticed.

“Ah, if you are worried about the people, fear not,” the prince told him. “We have instructed the guards to make sure they do not bother you, though I am certain that most are merely curious and wish only to see their Luminary up close.”

That...wasn’t as much of a comfort as he had hoped.

“I also intend to accompany you. As a prince, I am more than used to the adoring masses.”

Neither was that, honestly, but he would take what he could get, and so with a deep breath, he tightened his hands around the Forging Hammer and began to make his way out of the stables with Prince Faris at his side.

Almost immediately, the gossip began.

“That’s him, the Luminary!”

“He’s younger than I thought he would be...”

“Of course he’s young. He’s the prince of Dundrasil! He was born just before the kingdom fell.”

He tried to tune them out, but it was hard when the voices were everywhere.

“So he’s about the same age as Prince Faris then?”

“I think so.”

“I can’t believe that the one who helped save our kingdom from the Slayer was the Luminary...”

“What’s so hard to believe about that? He’s the Luminary.”

“My, would you look at that beautiful hair? He really is gorgeous, isn’t he?”

“Would you stop that? He’s half your age!”

He could feel himself blushing, and he began to try extra hard to ignore the people around him (thank goodness his friends weren’t present. He was sure Veronica, Erik, and Sylvando would all be in stitches after those last two comments).

“I wonder why he needed the Forging Hammer...”

“Probably to forge something?”

“That hammer is as big as he is.”

They were almost through...

“...I can’t believe our lives are in the hands of a boy no older than our own prince.”

He bit the inside of his lip as his hands tightened around the Hammer.

“I guess it’s no wonder then why the dark star is still hanging in the sky.”

He flinched as those words caught his ear, and worse yet, he was pretty sure that Faris had noticed. The prince suddenly came to a stop and turned around, his hand falling away from Eleven’s shoulder.

...He knew this would happen.

He knew there would be people who were unhappy with him. This was one of the many, many reasons why he hadn’t wanted people to know that he was the Luminary.

From the corner of his eye, he could see the prince at his side scanning the crowd for whoever had made that comment, but before he could do anything about it, a very loud yelp rang out above the commotion, drawing both of their attention and even quieting most of the onlookers.

He could see a man standing off to the side who was bent over, covering the back of his head with both hands as if he were in pain, as if he had just been struck, and in the next instant, the Luminary caught sight of the one who was clearly responsible for his condition.

He would recognize that bright red staff anywhere.

“Oh yeah?! If you think saving the world is so easy, then let’s see you try it! Why don’t we just throw you out into the desert with all of the monsters and see how long it takes before you’re crying to the guards to let you back in!”

“Veronica...”

“I bet you’ve never even seen a monster before! You wouldn’t have lasted five seconds against some of the things we’ve fought! Just who do you think you are, acting as if you have a clue about what it’s like?! Honestly, if you can’t say anything even remotely intelligent, then you should just keep your stupid mouth shut!”

“Alright, darling, I think that’s enough. You’re making quite the scene. Hendrik, if you would?”

“How dare you think that you can just—h-hey, put me down! I wasn’t finished!”

“I believe that he has learned his—Veronica, I would ask that you please refrain from hitting me with your—”

He couldn’t help it.

Eleven broke out laughing, practically doubling over and almost losing his grip on the Forging Hammer.

Just the sight of Hendrik picking up Veronica, only for the mage to bash her staff against his shoulder, just narrowly missing his head...

It was too much.

He was aware that everyone was probably staring at him—the soldiers, the citizens, Faris, his friends—but in that moment he didn’t care.

Yes, he was the Luminary as well as the prince of Dundrasil, and there was probably some sort of propriety or etiquette that people expected him to follow because of those titles, but how could he possibly keep a straight face after that?

He loved his friends. He really did.

“Your companions certainly are spirited,” said Faris a bit uncertainly as he watched the scene playing out before them in slight bemusement.

“I know,” Eleven replied as he got ahold of himself, his laughter dying down to a soft chuckle.

He turned to face the prince and gave him a bright smile.

“Thanks, Faris, for everything. You really helped me out today.”

That look of bemusement quickly melted into a proud grin as he once again clapped a hand onto Eleven’s shoulder.

“Think nothing of it, friend. After everything you have done for us, it was only right to return the favor. Please know that you will always be welcome here in Gallopolis. I heard many of our knights express a desire to compete against you on the track, so I hope that when your quest is over, you will consider taking part in another race.”

Eleven hesitated for just a moment as that same feeling that he had gotten earlier, before the race began, started to unfurl in his chest. It was something warm and hopeful, full of anticipation and longing. It was how he felt anytime he dared to think about the future, about what he wanted to do once Calasmos was gone and the world was safe. He still hadn’t put a lot of thought into it; his list was full of little things, just simple wishes and nothing more. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, didn’t want to think about anything too concrete or permanent, because the world had a habit of ruining his plans, and he didn’t know if he could handle seeing the life he wanted being ripped away once again.

And yet...

“I promise I will.”

A part of him just couldn’t help it.

Sometimes it was hard to ignore the things his heart wanted.

With a slight bow of his head, he bid Faris a fond farewell and made his way over to where his friends were. They had moved themselves away from the majority of the crowd (probably for the best, considering the scene he had just witnessed), and thankfully it seemed like things were calming down.

Jade noticed him first, and she was quick to give him a proud smile.

“Congratulations, Eleven,” she said. “You were brilliant out there.”

“Thanks,” he said before becoming a little flustered. “And, um...sorry about yesterday. I almost broke my promise to you...”

The look on her face softened, growing into something fond as she reached up and placed a hand on his head, gently ruffling his hair.

“There’s no need to worry about that,” she told him. “Just try not to keep something like this from us again, alright? You should know by now that we’ll always support you, no matter what.”

...Honestly, what did he ever do to deserve these people?

“Thank you.” Best big sister in the world, seriously.

“There you are. What took you so long?”

Both he and Jade turned to see Erik moving towards them with his arms crossed over his chest and a grin upon his face—but while his mouth was smiling, his eyes were not, and Eleven immediately knew that something was off. Erik was clearly trying very hard to pretend otherwise though. Everything about him screamed “nonchalant.” He was practically the image of cool and collected, and even his gait was relaxed and casual.

But it was maybe just a bit too relaxed and too casual, and there was definitely something very forced about the almost pleasant air that he was trying to put on.

If he didn’t know the thief as well as he did, he probably would’ve missed it, but there was something very guarded in those blue eyes, carefully hidden behind a wall of calm. He looked bothered, to put it lightly, despite the valiant effort he was making to appear unbothered.

Eleven didn’t like that look, and he hated it when his friends were upset, but he knew that if he tried to ask, he’d probably get shot down (because while Erik was really good at trying to get Eleven to talk about how he felt, he generally didn’t offer up much in regards to himself). Thankfully there were other methods he could use to get that troubled look off his partner’s face.

“Sorry,” he said a bit sheepishly. “I kind of got caught up talking to the other racers, and then the knights, and then the stable hands...and maybe my horse.” He originally wasn’t going to admit to that last bit, but he said it because he knew that it would amuse his friend, and sure enough, that guarded emotion in his eyes bled away as amusement took its place.

“Your horse?”

“She’s a very good horse.”

That earned him a soft laugh, and he felt some of his worry begin to fade away.

“I don’t doubt it,” the thief said, and Eleven was relieved to see that everything in his expression was genuine this time—nothing forced and nothing guarded.

Good. That was good.

After everything they had done for him, he wanted his friends to be happy.

...Speaking of “happy,” he heard a haughty huff from off to the side and turned to see that Veronica was thankfully back on the ground but that her mood hadn’t improved by much. She had her arms crossed, her nose in the air, and her head turned away from everyone. It was obvious that she was still irritated—not even Serena and Sylvando were trying to talk her down—and so naturally, that meant that Erik couldn’t possibly leave her alone.

“So, are you done with your tantrum now?” he asked the mage, and not without a good amount of teasing in his voice. Eleven would call it condescension, but there was never anything inherently cruel in their bickering. They reminded him of siblings in a way, how brothers and sisters sometimes fought, and he got the feeling that Erik probably saw a lot of Mia in their fiery friend (those two would definitely hit it off if they ever got to know each other, and then his partner would really be in for it). While some of their arguments could get a bit heated, they both gave as good as they got, and sometimes it seemed like they even enjoyed the verbal sparring matches.

This time, however, Veronica wasn’t having it.

“Quiet, you!” she snapped. “Don’t act like you weren’t bothered too.”

She turned around and pointed an accusing finger at the thief—and then to Eleven’s surprise, she dragged said finger over to the princess standing next to him as well.

“I know the two of you were just as mad as I was. You looked like you were about ready to punch him in the throat!”

...Huh.

Blinking in surprise, Eleven turned towards Erik and Jade, only for the both of them to very purposefully look away, clearly avoiding his gaze.

They looked a bit guilty and chagrined, and maybe even a little sheepish and chastised too, but there was definitely something else there as well, something that looked a lot like...oh.

Oh. So that’s what it had been, that guarded look on Erik’s face.

He had been angry.

The two of them had been angry because someone had spoken poorly about him.

While he would never condone needless violence on his behalf, he couldn’t help but feel just a little bit touched as a gentle warmth settled into his chest.

He really did love these people.

“Veronica,” he called, drawing the girl’s attention and saving both Erik and Jade from further chastisement. He gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Her anger immediately fizzled out as her face flushed, and he watched in mild amusement as she crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from them all once more.

“Y-yes, well,” she began, clearly embarrassed, “some people just have no tact, so someone had to shut him up.”

From the corner of his eye, he could see the rest of his party grinning as they slowly began to make their way over, and just as Eleven was about to put what had happened aside and address them all about possibly going to get something to eat before heading back to Hotto (he didn’t really want to take the Forging Hammer with him to the Battleground), he was cut off by an unexpected voice.

“Mr. Eleven!”

He looked over to where Sylvando and Serena were standing, only to see that both Akia and Hakim were with them. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed that before. While the two of them didn’t necessarily stand out (Hakim was a Gallopolitan soldier, after all. There wasn’t really much variety when it came to the uniforms and armor), he knew them both well enough to be able to distinguish them from the rest of the gaping crowd that was still standing around.

...A feeling that could only be described as trepidation began to wash over him as he realized that the two siblings had probably watched the race, that they had probably heard the rumors, and even if they somehow hadn’t, they had likely been standing there and listening to the murmuring of the crowd, to the people gossiping about their Luminary.

There was no way they didn’t know who he was now.

And yet when Akia ran up to him, the smile on her face was just the same as before. There was nothing different or forced, nothing that felt fake or anxious or disingenuous. She looked happy and excited, and he would be lying if he said that her joy wasn’t just a little bit contagious.

“Congratulations!” she told him brightly. “What a wonderful race! I am so glad that you won. Hakim and I made sure to cheer you on.”

That feeling of trepidation faded, and the warmth from earlier began to grow a little warmer.

“Thank you,” he said, returning her kind smile. “It was a lot of fun.”

“Where did you learn to ride like that?” asked Hakim curiously. “It was most impressive.”

“I grew up in a small village. We raised a lot of animals, including horses, so as soon as I was old enough to pull myself up into the saddle, I told my mum that I wanted to learn how to ride.”

He glanced over to where his friends were, catching Sylvando’s eye as he gave the jester a wry smile.

“Sylvando says I’m a natural.”

“You definitely are, darling.”

He turned back to the siblings, and a thought that he’d had earlier quickly came to mind. It was almost lunchtime. Given how early he and his friends had arrived in Gallopolis, they were surely all getting hungry, and he still very much believed that they deserved a nice meal for being so supportive of the fact that he had wanted to participate in a race. It was time to make good on that.

“I was thinking about getting something to eat while we’re here,” he said before glancing over to Veronica. “There’s a restaurant that serves cactus cutlets that I’ve been wanting to try.”

He watched as a delighted smile spread across the mage’s face (much better than her earlier frustration), and then turned his attention back to Akia and Hakim.

“Would you like to join us? It’s my treat.”

The shock only lasted a moment before he was met with two rather pleased looking smiles.

“Of course!” said Akia. “We would be happy to.”

“Then let’s get going. If we’re lucky, we might be able to beat the crowd.”

Both brother and sister nodded in agreement, and so he motioned for them and the rest of his party to start moving. He watched as they all turned to leave together, as they all fell into step with each other, but just as he was about to follow, he felt a hand fall onto his shoulder.

It was a very familiar hand.

“Hey,” Erik said as Eleven turned to face him, his voice soft and a little bit solemn. There was uncertainty written into the lines on his face and a good deal of worry in his eyes, and while the Luminary was used to his friend being concerned about him (especially as of late), this was something a little bit different.

“What is it?” he asked just as softly, and he watched as the thief’s expression hardened, as his mouth settled into a firm, determined line.

(And yet the worry in his eyes didn’t diminish).

“Are you sure you want to stay in the city?”

He couldn’t help but blink in confusion. The look he was being given was both suspicious and searching, as if Erik were trying to read the answer to his question from Eleven’s reaction, and it took him a moment to figure out exactly why his friend was asking.

He glanced over at the group of people still standing by the stables. While many had cleared off, implying that Faris had been correct in that most of them had probably just wanted to get a good look at their Luminary, there were still several groups watching him and his party, whispering amongst themselves. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he imagined that it was much of the same as earlier, and even though only one person had openly expressed their disdain over his actions, he wasn’t naïve enough to believe that others didn’t share a similar opinion (even if they were too polite to ever say it).

Erik was asking him because he knew, because he was the only one who knew, and even though Eleven hadn’t told him everything, there was no way he hadn’t been able to figure it out after what had just happened. In fact, it was possible that all of his friends might’ve figured it out, that they might have realized his fear about being recognized as the Luminary, about being judged for his actions and found wanting.

However...

He looked to the rest of his party and watched as Serena chatted with Akia, as Hakim walked with Hendrik and Sylvando.

He thought about Veronica’s impressive display of anger as she defended him against slander, and about how Faris had actually noticed his discomfort at being gawked at, and he remembered the way that Faiz had shaken his hand and the knights had all congratulated him, speaking to him like an equal.

He thought of all the people that he had met across Erdrea, everyone who had supported him both as the Luminary and as Eleven.

He thought of his mother and his grandad, who had taken him in, protected him, and loved him as their own.

And finally, he thought of the parents who had sacrificed everything for him, who had cared about him more than anything—not because he was chosen, but because he was their son.

So many people believed in him, and so many more had supported him. He had been surrounded by love and faith his entire life, by people who genuinely cared, and so there was no way he was going to let the disparagement of a few outweigh the sheer amount of kindness that he’d been given, all the encouragement and the trust that he’d been shown.

It was okay. He would be fine.

Eleven turned back to his partner and gave him a smile.

“I’m sure,” he said, and without a trace of hesitation, he added, “I’m alright, Erik.”

Something relaxed in the thief’s expression.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

The hand on his shoulder shifted to his back, and he was given a gentle push forward.

“Come on, let’s go,” Erik said, as if he hadn’t been the one to hold them up—and then just because he could never let things go, he added much more loudly, “You know how Veronica gets when she’s hungry.”

“Hey!”

Eleven bit his lip to keep from laughing.

He really did love these people.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18: A Dangerous Expedition

In hindsight, maybe they should’ve waited one more day before coming here. He had kind of forgotten just how massive the Battleground truly was—a long slope down, several tunnels, several very precarious ledges and paths where one wrong step would equal falling to their deaths, several more tunnels, and then another long slope up...

Needless to say, they were all getting tired. It was a good thing that he had treated them all to a decent meal before setting out at least. After all, nothing was worse than being both tired and hungry. Still though, it would probably be in their best interest to take a break, though that was hard to do with so many monsters roaming about. There wasn’t really a good place to just stop and sit down. He needed to keep his eyes peeled for a tunnel as they made their way up, one free of any monsters. They had passed a few places already, but he didn’t really want to backtrack. It had taken them long enough just to make it this far. He would simply have to make do with whatever he could find up ahead.

“Maybe we should’ve stopped at that campsite after all...” he muttered to himself.

“What?” asked Erik from his place at the Luminary’s side (because that was where he always was whenever they were trekking through someplace new).

“Nothing,” he said with a shake of his head. “I was just thinking out loud.”

His friend gave him a look from the corner of his eye, and his next words proved once again that he was a lot more perceptive than any of them gave him credit for.

“If you want to take a break, I don’t think anyone would be opposed to it. Veronica and Rab both look like they could use a rest.”

He glanced back at the rest of his party.

While everyone was clearly trying their best, it was also pretty obvious that some of them were struggling. He knew that his grandfather had trouble with uphill slopes in particular, and Veronica, despite being young and generally full of energy, had to take twice as many steps as the rest of them in order to keep up (and probably four times as many as Hendrik). Normally none of them had a problem with telling him if they were getting tired or if they needed to sit down for a moment, and so it was strange that they hadn’t bothered to say something yet, but that didn’t mean they weren’t in need of some rest.

He needed to find a safe spot. Surely one of these tunnels had to be free of monsters...

He felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Hey, look at that.”

Eleven stopped and turned to see what Erik was pointing at.

There was a short tunnel next to them, and at the end of it was a metal door. A locked door, if memory served. He had seen it there in the future too, but he hadn’t been able to open it, though he could remember pressing his face against the bars and trying to peer into the room in order to see if there was anything of interest inside. He could remember seeing a good deal of ore protruding from the walls, as well as a strange purple crystal sticking up out of the ground, but his line of sight had admittedly not been great.

Erik turned to him with a mischievous grin.

“Locked doors usually mean treasure,” the thief said, and it was obvious from the tone of his voice that he wanted to check it out.

They were supposed to be looking for orichalcum, but he could admit to also being curious about what was behind the door, and thanks to the Watchers, he now had the means to open it.

During that first visit, they had bestowed upon him something rather special: a key that could open any door (with the exception of the magic doors, of course). They had wanted to help him in whatever way they could, and an item like that was definitely useful to have if he were to ever find himself in a position where he couldn’t explore or progress due to something as simple as a locked door. While he hadn’t used it too much yet, this definitely seemed like an appropriate opportunity.

“Why don’t we check it out?” Erik suggested. “Who knows? It might have what we’re looking for.”

He was pretty sure that it wouldn’t. He knew where the rarefied orichalcum was, and his luck wasn’t good enough to find two hunks of the rarest metal on Erdrea, but there was certainly no harm in checking. Plus, it’s not like orichalcum was the only metal he was interested in. During their trek through the massive mine, he had been collecting every bit of ore and every single crystal that he could find. The Battleground had all sorts of rare, precious materials, and he fully intended to bring back as much of it as he could, not just for himself but for the blacksmiths in Hotto as well. Opportunities like this didn’t come up very often, and because he had the great fortune of possessing foresight, he had made sure to bring an extra bag with him in addition to the pouch at his side, which was already packed full of the stuff and nearly overflowing with how much he had shoved into it.

He took his forging very seriously. Some of the things he had crafted for his friends had saved their lives, after all. It was important to give it everything he had, to use the best materials available to create the best equipment possible (he had definitely learned his lesson about going into battle with a weapon that was hastily made. He wouldn’t be making that mistake again).

There was bound to be useful materials beyond that door. It would be a shame to just leave them there.

“Okay,” he agreed before turning to the rest of their group. This was actually kind of perfect, because while the tunnel was short, it also didn’t have any monsters. It was the perfect little alcove for them to take a break in. “Why don’t we stop here for a bit? We’ve been walking for a while now, and who knows how much further we’ll have to go yet. There don’t seem to be any monsters in this area, so we should be safe for now.”

He was met with a chorus of agreement (some far more relieved than others), and so the eight of them moved into the tunnel for a short rest. Both Rab and Veronica were quick to take a seat with Serena following not long after, and all of them immediately reached for their canteens to gulp down some much-needed water. Then, to no one’s surprise, their resident twins each pulled out a small bag of snacks that they had purchased in Gallopolis.

That was fair. It was steadily approaching dinner time, after all. As soon as they were done at the Battleground, they would head back to Hotto for something to eat and then spend the rest of their evening relaxing. Worrying about their next course of action could wait until the morning.

While everyone else took a breather, Eleven and Erik went up to the locked door and peered between the bars. The room looked exactly the same as he remembered it. There was ore protruding from the walls, a purple crystal poking out of the ground, and no monsters in sight. The cavern looked safe, meaning that it would be okay for him to open the door while his friends were resting. He didn’t need to worry about accidently unleashing a bunch of monsters into the one abandoned tunnel that they had managed to find.

“Well?” Erik asked. “See anything interesting?” His line of sight wasn’t as good as Eleven’s.

“I see a lot of ore and some crystals. It looks safe enough. I don’t see any monsters anywhere.”

“Do you want to check it out?”

He nodded and reached for the pouch where he kept all of the keys he had collected so far.

“...What are the two of you doing?”

They both whipped around to find Hendrik standing behind them, watching them curiously and not without a good deal of suspicion. Eleven tried to tell himself that he didn’t need to feel guilty—it’s not like they’d been doing anything wrong or questionable—but Hendrik (as well as Jade and Sylvando to an extent) was very good at that disapproving look that always made him feel like a little kid again, being scolded by his mother for playing a prank on the old shopkeeper.

Erik recovered from his surprise first and gestured over his shoulder at the locked door.

“We’re going to see what’s in here,” he explained. “El said there aren’t any monsters, so it should be safe.”

Still looking skeptical, Hendrik moved forward and looked through the bars himself. Eleven wasn’t entirely sure what he expected to find or what he was actually searching for—maybe he was just trying to verify Erik’s claim—but the expression on his face fell into something questioning and maybe a bit intrigued as he surveyed the chamber.

“Strange,” he said. “The ground of this cavern appears to be composed entirely of sand. We have not come across anything quite like this so far.”

He pulled away from the door and turned to look at Eleven.

“There is a great deal of ore in there. I take it this is why you wish to venture inside?”

“Yes.”

“Then I shall accompany you.”

By this point, he knew better than to try and tell Hendrik that it wasn’t necessary. The knight took his role as Eleven’s protector very seriously. Besides, it’s not like he and Erik had a monopoly on treasure hunting. If everyone were to decide that they wanted to explore the cavern, then that was just fine, though he got the feeling that Rab, Veronica, and Serena were perfectly happy right where they were. Jade and Sylvando had both found places to settle as well, and it seemed that Serena had graciously volunteered to share some of her snacks with them.

He couldn’t help but smile at the sight as a wave of fondness swept over him. The eight of them really did feel like a family sometimes (a somewhat dysfunctional one, but a family all the same).

Eleven moved over to the wall and set his ore bag down against it before emptying most of the contents of his pouch into said bag and grabbing his pick. It if turned out that he needed more space for whatever materials he found inside, then he would simply have to come back for it, but he would rather not lug around that heavy bag when it wasn’t necessary.

With that taken care of, he turned back to the metal door, grabbed the Ultimate Key, and shoved it into the lock. With a simple twist, he heard the satisfying click of the door unlocking, and then without further ado, he pushed it open and stepped into the cavern.

It was a bit strange to suddenly feel sand beneath his feet after walking across solid stone for several hours, and he couldn’t help but wonder exactly why this one area was different from the rest of the Battleground. Where did the sand even come from? There was also that strange purple crystal in the center of the room. It was huge—almost as tall as he was—and something told him that it was probably in their best interest to leave it be. It’s not like they’d be able to carry it out anyway; it probably weighed a ton. Besides, he was far more interested in the crystals and ore veins along the back wall.

The bluish green crystals were definitely dracolyte, and most of the ore veins looked like densinium, but there were also a few veins of a light blue metal.

A very familiar light blue metal.

While there was no chunk of rarefied orichalcum (not that he had really been expecting one anyway), he had apparently found a few veins of normal orichalcum.

Back in Hotto, when he had been talking to some of the blacksmiths at the forge, one of them had expressed a desire to forge a blade from orichalcum, a blade that would be beyond compare, fit for the hands of kings. He had then asked Eleven if he wouldn’t mind keeping an eye out for some on his travels before showing the Luminary a picture of what the ore looked like.

Admittedly, he hadn’t been holding out much hope of finding any. Despite having traveled all across Erdrea, Eleven had never seen orichalcum anywhere, and he had definitely stopped at pretty much every ore deposit he could find. It was always possible that there were veins of it hidden deep in the mountains somewhere, or perhaps even underground, but in the end, the only place he had ever seen any was the rarefied chunk in the Battleground. Apparently it was so rare that some people assumed it was nothing more than a myth, and honestly, he had never even heard of the stuff before until Erik had identified it and explained to them all just how valuable of a resource it was.

That blacksmith had said that he would pay any price, but Eleven would gladly bring him back some for free. It looked like there would probably be enough to keep some for himself as well. A metal as strong and durable as orichalcum could definitely come in handy.

“Found something good?” asked Erik as he made his way over, taking a look at the ore veins and crystals decorating the wall.

“Yeah,” he said as he knelt down and ran his hand along the light blue metal. “It’s not quite the same as the one we’re looking for, but I’m sure this orichalcum will still be useful.”

He heard a sharp intake of breath from next to him and looked up at his partner, only to find the thief staring down at him with wide eyes.

“Orichal—are you saying that the stuff we’ve been looking for is orichalcum?”

...Oh.

Oh no.

He had slipped up (seriously, curse Erik for being so easy to talk to).

A lump began to rise in his throat, and that pit of panic—the same pit that always seemed to open up anytime he made a mistake—started to form in his stomach.

He shouldn’t have said that. He shouldn’t have identified it. He should’ve just pretended that he didn’t know what it was, that he had discovered something new, a metal that he had never seen before. He also shouldn’t have mentioned the giant chunk of ore that they were looking for, shouldn’t have referred to it as orichalcum, because Erik wasn’t an idiot, and the obvious question would be—

“Are you sure?” the thief asked, somewhere between bemused and excited. “I mean, do you have any idea how rare that stuff is? Sure, I’ve seen pictures of it before, but I’ve never actually... I guess the ore from that vision did kind of look like... Seriously, are you sure it’s orichalcum? How do you even know what the stuff looks like?”

Those were fair questions. They were talking about a supposedly mythical ore here.

He had an answer, sort of. He just needed to not stumble over his words.

“There’s a blacksmith in Hotto who was looking for it,” he said carefully. “He showed me a picture and asked if I could keep an eye out for any while I traveled. It looked a lot like this, and since the ore we saw in the vision was almost the exact same color, I just assumed it must also be some sort of orichalcum.”

Erik was still staring at him with wide eyes, as if he couldn’t quite believe what was happening, and so Eleven looked back to the cavern wall before allowing himself a small smile as he continued.

“It makes sense, right? A ‘mythical’ ore for a legendary sword?”

That earned him a soft huff of laughter, which was what he had been aiming for.

“I guess you’re right,” Erik said, and the Luminary heaved an internal sigh of relief at having escaped yet another worrisome explanation. He really needed to watch his words more carefully. “So, I take it you want to collect as much of this stuff as you can before moving on?”

“Yes. Everything here is really useful. I’d like to at least get enough for both myself and the blacksmiths in Hotto.”

He heard the sound of armor clanking and looked to the side to see Hendrik approaching them.

“It seems that there is little of interest in this room aside from the ore,” he said, looking down at Eleven as the Luminary grabbed his pick and began to chip away at the rock so that he could slowly pry the chunks of ore out of the wall. “...Do you require assistance?”

Eleven looked up at him a bit sheepishly.

“I only brought one pick,” he said.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Erik kneel down next to him and pull out one of his daggers. Then, much to Eleven’s horror, he proceeded to wedge the tip of it underneath one of the dracolyte crystals in order to pry it loose.

That was not the appropriate use of a knife.

“What are you doing?” he asked as the blacksmith in him baulked at the mistreatment of a weapon that he had made. “You’ll ruin the blade!”

“I’ll be careful. Besides, if I do break it, you can just fix it for me later.”

...The nerve of—

Before Eleven could say anything in response to that, Erik drew his second dagger and tossed it to Hendrik.

“Here, use that to pry the crystals out,” he told the knight. “Can’t do much to help with the ore, but we can at least help with this.”

Again, much to Eleven’s horror, yet another of the weapons that he had crafted was getting abused as Hendrik didn’t even question the order and instead began to use the tip of the blade to try and pop the little growths of dracolyte out of the wall.

He shot his partner a glare, only to receive a bright, cheeky gin in return as the thief successfully dislodged one of the crystals and carefully set it down on the ground. Then without a shred of hesitation, he shoved his dagger back into the rocks and started prying out another one.

Eleven heaved a very deep, very put-upon sigh, but in the end he decided to just get back to digging for chunks of orichalcum and densinium. There was very little point in arguing, because he knew he wasn’t going to win, and it’s not like Erik was wrong about him being able to fix the blades and all, but still...

He was pretty sure that every blacksmith in the land would grieve over the atrocity that was being committed in that moment.

Putting his lament aside (for now. It would probably return as soon as he was forced to repair both of those daggers), he focused instead on the task at hand, on gently pulling out chunks of ore without accidently damaging either them or the veins. It required a lot of concentration, but by this point he was more than used to it, and he had gotten rather good at working quickly but carefully.

...Looking back, he had really picked up a lot of different skills over the past year or so. Mining for materials and crafting equipment were probably two of the more interesting ones. He really liked sitting down at the forge and hammering away, beating metal into shape, watching as a bunch of random odds and ends magically became weapons and armor and accessories. It was a lot of fun, and even though his creations weren’t always perfect, he still enjoyed making every single one. He liked being able to create something with his own hands.

Maybe he could be a blacksmith when this was over. Maybe he could open his own shop in Cobblestone and sell his creations, and people would come from all over to buy weapons or armor or even just clothes that he had crafted with his magical little forge. Even though he had only used other people’s blueprints thus far, someday he really wanted to try his hand at putting together his own formulas and patterns, maybe even write his own recipe book. He really wanted to see just how good he actually was, if he understood enough about forging in order to create something original, something that was solely his, just like all those blacksmiths in Hotto.

He could feel himself smiling at the thought, of having his own shop, his own business, his own career. A normal life in his peaceful little village.

It was a nice thought.

“What are you thinking about?”

He should’ve been expecting the question. Erik had always been good at reading him, and he knew that there was no point in lying or trying to tell him it was nothing, because that had never worked before and it probably wouldn’t work now. Besides, it’s not like it was anything that needed to be kept a secret. There was no real harm in telling him the truth.

“Being a blacksmith,” he said, much to his friend’s confusion.

“A blacksmith?”

“When this is over,” he clarified. “I was thinking that it might be fun to be a blacksmith when this is over. I could even open my own shop in Cobblestone and sell all of the things I make.”

He was expecting some sort of amused comment or maybe even a thoughtful hum, but all he was met with was silence. He glanced at Erik from the corner of his eye, only to see something a little bit familiar, that same wistful look he had gotten that night in Hotto when they were discussing lumen essence and making a list. It was soft and contemplative, the corner of his mouth just barely curving upward into what was almost a smile.

He wasn’t sure if he liked that look. It felt like there was something just a little bit sad about it.

“...Assuming that you’ll let me keep the Fun-Size Forge, that is,” he said with a wry smile, hoping to knock his friend out of whatever it was that had him looking so lost in thought. Thankfully it worked as Erik glanced over at him, flashing him an amused grin.

“I gave it to you, didn’t I? It’s not like I was expecting you to give it back or anything. I certainly don’t have much use for it.”

“Good, because I don’t know how to use a normal forge. I suppose I should probably learn someday...”

“I am sure that the blacksmiths of Hotto would be happy to teach you,” said Hendrik, joining in on the conversation. “You have considerable talent, and given all that you have done for them, it would be a crime not to.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that. He had already been considering it, had thought about how useful that skill could be in order to help rebuild both Cobblestone and Dundrasil, but to hear someone else voice those thoughts made him feel like maybe it wasn’t such a far-off goal after all.

“I’ll have to ask them then,” he began, feeling both pleased and a little bit hopeful, “once the world is safe.”

In his peripheral, he could see both Hendrik and Erik smiling.

It really was becoming easier to think about the future, about the life he wanted to build for himself once everything was over. There were just so many options to choose from, so many possibilities, and a part of him wanted to experience everything, to do as much as he could for however long he was able...but most importantly, he just hoped that whatever path he chose to take, wherever life decided to lead him, his friends would continue to be a part of it. He knew that all of them would likely be busy, however, once Calasmos was gone. Saving the world didn’t mean that everything would just suddenly be fixed, after all. In reality, it would likely take several years before things finally settled down. There was a lot that needed to be rebuilt, in more ways than one, and all of them had things they needed to address once Erdrea was finally at peace.

In the end, the eight of them would be going their separate ways (no matter how painful that thought might be).

Jade and Hendrik would inevitably go back to Heliodor, where the princess would at last reclaim her title and begin learning all that she needed to in order to one day inherit the throne. After being gone for sixteen years, she and her father had a lot of catching up to do.

Rab would probably join them for a while as well, since he and Carnelian were good friends who also had a lot of catching up to do, before eventually gathering volunteers and heading for Dundrasil to start the reconstruction. Eleven had no doubt that Heliodor would help fund the effort, given how close the two kingdoms had been, but it would probably take a long time before the city was back to what it once was.

He planned to help out too, of course, in whatever way he could. While he didn’t want to take his place as the crown prince or anything, he did want to see the place of his birth restored, the once great kingdom that had been destroyed because of him.

He needed to fix the things that were broken, especially the things that he had been responsible for breaking.

...Speaking of things that were broken, he heard the very distinct sound of metal snapping and whipped his head over to look at Erik, who was staring at his dagger a bit sheepishly and with more than a little guilt in his expression.

He knew this would happen.

“You broke it, didn’t you,” he said with a deep sigh.

“Only a little.” The thief pulled it out of the wall to look at the blade, and when Eleven caught sight of the broken-off tip, something that could only be described as distress washed over him, along with a good deal of despair. He got the feeling that some of it must’ve shown on his face, because Erik took one look at him and blanched.

“Hey, whoa, I’m sorry—I’m sorry, El! I didn’t mean to actually... I’m sure it’s not that bad, so would you please stop looking at me like that?”

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and counted to ten.

Erik was just lucky that he had been using a dagger that was easy to fix.

“It’s fine,” he said, although judging from the look on his partner’s face, he got the feeling those words weren’t very convincing. “I’ll fix it for you later.”

The thief nodded...and proceeded to go right back to what he was doing before, just a bit more carefully this time.

Eleven fought the urge to lean forward and smack his head against the wall. Instead he forced himself to put it all aside and returned to his earlier train of thought.

So he knew what Jade, Hendrik, and his grandfather were going to do once the world was finally safe. He also had a pretty good idea of what Sylvando would be doing. After all, the jester had told them all what his dream was back when they first met: to build a huge theatre where people from all over the world could come and watch him perform. He wanted to make the whole world smile. He would likely go on his own journey to gather talent for his show, trekking across Erdrea in search of like-minded people who also loved performing and bringing joy. He would probably spend some time with the circus in Gallopolis and maybe with his father in Puerto Valor now that he didn’t have to fear going home.

And once his theatre was built, Eleven would make sure to come and see him. He was pretty sure that all of them would.

They would never be too busy to make time for each other...or at least he hoped that would always be the case.

...He couldn’t help but wonder what Veronica and Serena were going to do once their job of protecting him was officially over. They would probably head back to Arboria to see their parents and to tell Father Benedictus about the journey they went on and all of the things they had seen. After that though, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps they would set off on their own journey as well. He knew that they wanted to spend more time with the Watchers and that Veronica had expressed an interest in studying at the Royal Library. They were also hoping to eventually find a way to fix Veronica’s de-aged form permanently so that she was no longer trapped in the body of a seven-year-old. While it would be strange seeing her as an actual adult, he knew that she hated being treated like a child.

He could see the two of them one day settling down in Gondolia or even Sniflheim, somewhere close to the ocean since Serena had mentioned before how she would love to live next to the sea. Although if she was hoping for a warmer climate, maybe Lonalulu would be better.

Perhaps he would ask them what their plans were once their quest was over. Maybe he could even tag along on some of their adventures (he wanted to spend time with the Watchers too, after all).

...And that left him with Erik.

He already knew what his partner’s plans were. He was pretty sure they were the same as they had been in the future. The thief wanted to take Mia on a tour of the world, to show her all of Erdrea. He wanted to go sightseeing and exploring and treasure hunting, to give his sister the kind of adventure that he had gotten, albeit a much safer one since they wouldn’t have to worry about monsters once the world was at peace. He wanted to make up for what had happened, for the five years that she had spent trapped and alone. He wanted to get her out of Sniflheim and away from the Vikings, give her an actual life, one of her own choosing instead of the circumstances that the two of them had been forced into.

Eleven wasn’t sure if his friend’s intentions were just to travel forever or if he would one day want to find a place for him and Mia to call their own. They didn’t really have anywhere to go, because Sniflheim wasn’t home for them. It never had been, and it likely held too many painful memories for it to ever become one now.

To the two siblings, “home” had always been each other, because in the end, that was all they had.

...Maybe he would invite the two of them to come and live in Cobblestone once it was rebuilt. They didn’t have to stay there, but they could at least have their own house, a place to rest, somewhere to return to if they ever got tired of traveling. Erik had promised him that he would help rebuild the village—that all of them would—and while Eleven wasn’t sure how realistic that promise actually was, it was a nice thought.

And if it did end up happening, maybe then he would pitch to Erik the idea of having his own house built. With any luck, his partner would say yes.

Perhaps it was a bit selfish, wanting his best friend to remain nearby, but if simply living in the same village was all he could get, he would take it. More than anything, he just wanted Erik to be happy, and if that meant that all he could do was watch him settle down and build a life for himself, then so be it.

He was the Luminary. He was more than used to the things he wanted having to come second...or not at all.

From off to the side, he once again heard the sound of metal snapping.

“Uhh...”

He heaved a deep sigh and this time allowed his head to connect with the rocks.

“Will you please stop before you cause any more damage?”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m almost done anyway.” He had a decent pile of ore next to him, and there was only so much room in his bag.

After chipping out one more piece of orichalcum, he set his pick aside and began to organize his haul. It was a pretty decent collection, more than enough for both himself and the Hotto blacksmiths. However, as he began to shove some of it into the pouch at his side, he realized that he was going to need his other bag after all. There wasn’t going to be enough room for the orichalcum, the densinium, and the dracolyte crystals.

He turned to Hendrik, who was in the process of giving Erik his dagger back (undamaged, thank goodness), and then motioned towards his pick.

“Hendrik, could you take that back for me and then grab my bag? I left it just outside the door.”

“Of course.”

The knight grabbed Eleven’s pickaxe and proceeded to make his way across the chamber.

Next to him, he could see Erik rubbing the back of his neck a bit nervously.

“You’re not...actually mad at me about the dagger, are you?” the thief asked hesitantly.

“I might be a little mad about it,” he replied honestly, earning him a flinch in response.

“...Sorry.”

Looking well and truly chastised, Eleven figured that he may as well let it go.

“It’s alright, Erik,” he said, offering the thief a small smile. “I said I’d fix it for you later. Just don’t do it again, alright? The weapons I make are for keeping you all safe, not for stabbing into rocks.”

“Yeah, okay...”

“...But thanks. For trying to help.”

His friend turned to him, looking a bit surprised, but it quickly bled away into a smile.

“No problem.”

The clanking of armor signaled Hendrik’s return, and it was followed by the sound of rocks clacking together as his bag of ore was set down next to him. He gave the knight a quick smile before he began dividing up all of his materials. He placed what he planned on keeping for himself into the large bag and shoved what he would be sharing with the blacksmiths into the smaller one at his waist. Easier to access that way. Plus then he didn’t have to haul that heavy bag with him when he went to visit Hotto’s forge.

After putting the last of the dracolyte crystals into his pouch (thankfully the little crystals were pretty durable, so he didn’t need to worry about them breaking), he got to his feet and reached for his bag only for Hendrik to beat him to it. He watched as the knight effortlessly lifted the sack of ore and carefully slung it over his shoulder.

“I can carry it,” the Luminary was quick to say, which earned him a skeptical look from his protector.

“You were struggling earlier,” the man noted, “and it is now several times heavier than before. We may have a long way to go yet before finding what we seek. I shall carry it for now.”

He knew there was no point in arguing; Hendrik could be really stubborn when it came to certain things. That didn’t stop him from feeling indignant though, and the muffled snort of laughter to his left really didn’t help matters any.

Without another word, the knight began to make his way across the chamber with Eleven and Erik trailing just a little ways behind.

As they passed by the large purple crystal sticking out of the sand, the Luminary’s eyes were inevitably drawn to it. He kind of wanted to examine it, but they didn’t really have time for that. They needed to get going if they wanted to return to Hotto in time to grab dinner somewhere. Perhaps they could return at a later time to collect more ore, and then he could take a moment to look at it. There was always the chance that it could be something useful, after all.

When they were a little over halfway across the room, the pouch at his side, which he had definitely overfilled, suddenly popped open, and some of the dracolyte crystals plus a few chunks of orichalcum spilled out, clattering together as they fell onto the sand. He and Erik both stopped to look at them for a moment before the thief gave a soft sigh and bent down to scoop the entire mess up.

“I thought you probably filled it too full,” he said as he stood back up and handed the ore and crystals back to Eleven. The Luminary looked down at his pouch, then back at his hands, and decided that he may as well just carry them out like this. There was no point in trying to shove it all back in only for it to spill out again.

Hendrik was almost to the door already, and so as soon as Eleven had relatched his bag, he and Erik began walking again to catch up...but they only made it a few steps before the ground beneath them shifted and the entire cave seemed to shake as bits of rock and grit tumbled down from the ceiling above.

All three of them instantly came to a stop and looked around.

“What was that?” asked Erik. “I’m pretty sure there can’t be quakes on a floating island.”

There couldn’t. And that meant that something had to have caused it.

Eleven turned around to look for the source, to try and figure out what was shaking the cavern...and immediately found himself frozen in place.

He sucked in a sharp breath as his eyes caught sight of the empty space behind him.

It was gone.

The purple crystal was gone, and in its place was nothing but a smooth patch of sand, as if it had never even been there to begin with.

...A chamber full of sand, sealed behind a locked door.

An innocuous purple crystal sticking up out of the ground.

A crystal that wasn’t there anymore, that had disappeared in the same instant that the cavern shook.

...Oh, no—

He felt the sand shift beneath him and Erik before it began to sink.

It was too late. There wouldn’t be time to get out of the way. He had maybe a few seconds to come up with a plan.

He only found one.

“Dammit,” he heard the thief say. “I think there’s something—”

Eleven dropped all of the ore and crystals that he’d been holding, letting them scatter across the ground once more, and then with both hands, he turned and shoved Erik as hard as he could.

The thief gave a startled yelp, followed by a loud “oomph” as he hit the ground. He hadn’t been sent far, only a few feet away, but those few feet were more than enough.

His partner was safe.

Unfortunately, he didn’t even have time to feel relieved, as in the next second the ground beneath him completely gave way, and he watched in horror as a massive jaw filled with two rows of sharp teeth rose up out of the sand around him.

There was nothing he could do. Even if he somehow managed to throw himself to the side, he wouldn’t be able to clear the distance in time.

In the end, his world was plunged into darkness as he sank beneath the sand.

It all happened in an instant.

One moment he was standing next to Eleven, trying to tell the Luminary that he was pretty sure there was something beneath them, and in the next he was lying on the ground after having been knocked down rather harshly.

He immediately pushed himself up to his knees and turned to look at his partner, to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, only for his heart to stop at the sight before him.

There was a monster.

There was a monster rising up out of the sand, a monster that looked almost exactly like the cactolotl that they had fought in the desert.

And Erik had turned around just in time to see its massive jaw start to close around Eleven.

The world slowed to a crawl as everything in his chest suddenly tightened.

No...

This couldn’t happen...

It couldn’t happen.

No!

El was their Luminary.

He was their Luminary!

This couldn’t—

“No!”

But the monster was too big, its mouth too wide, and there was no way for Eleven to dodge, no time for him to escape...

Because he had wasted the few precious seconds he had on Erik.

“El!”

That massive jaw snapped shut, and the thief could do nothing but watch as his partner was dragged beneath the surface.

...In that moment, it felt like time had stopped (Erik didn’t know what it was like to watch the world end, to have every bit of hope torn away, leaving nothing but an aching despair, but this, right here, might be it).

This couldn’t be happening... It had to be some kind of nightmare.

He stared at the spot where Eleven had just been standing—where he had just been standing—in horror.

“N-no...”

...No.

No, no, no—this couldn’t happen!

Erik knelt on the ground and pressed his hands into the sand, trying to feel even the slightest tremor from the beast that was still swimming below them—the monster that had just taken everything from him...

...But he felt nothing.

There was nothing.

Eleven was gone.

He could hear the sound of commotion behind him, could hear the clanking of armor and the shouting of voices, could hear Veronica and Jade bombarding Hendrik with questions, asking him what was going on, what just happened, where was Eleven...

It was getting hard to breathe around the lump in his throat.

Even though the world was starting to feel surreal and the sounds around him were muffled—it wasn’t that far off from the sensation of drowning—he could still hear the knight’s horrified response to the events that had just transpired. Hendrik had been too far away to help them, too far away to do anything but watch, and Erik was pretty sure that he had never heard the man sound so solemn before, so full of pain and regret and loss.

“He...there was a monster hiding beneath the sand. I fear that it...it...”

He didn’t want to hear it.

He didn’t want to hear it!

There had to be something they could do—something he could do—because Eleven couldn’t be...

He couldn’t be...

Dammit.

Dammit all...

A hand fell on his shoulder.

“Erik,” he heard Jade call, her voice soft and sympathetic and heartbreaking, and it was all just too much.

He had to do something. He refused to let it end like this.

They needed to find the monster.

If they could just kill the monster, then they could save Eleven. It wasn’t too late.

That thing couldn’t leave the cavern. This was the only place in the Battleground they had come across where the ground was made of sand, which meant that it was still somewhere below them. If they could somehow find it and force it back to the surface...

Erik shoved his hands a bit deeper into the sand and focused.

Veronica had told him once that earth magic was rare, that during her studies she had only read about a handful of mages who had any sort of affinity for it, and despite her best efforts, she had never been able to cast even the smallest sigil. She had even told him that his skill with it was impressive (one of the only compliments that she had ever paid him), and that if he practiced with it enough, he might one day be able to place a sigil without even needing to see where the enemy was.

Because it’s not like the earth sigil attached itself to the ground.

It attached itself to the target.

Unlike a lot of spells that were directional, earth magic was not. Being able to see where his opponent was simply made it easier, but it technically wasn’t necessary. If he knew where his intended target was, if he could sense either their presence or location, then in theory, he could cast a sigil.

He had never tried it before, had never had a reason to—but Veronica had said that he was skilled, and after living as a thief and traveling alone for so long, he had gotten good at sensing things, at being able to tell when something was approaching. It was the only reason he had managed to stay alive for so long, how he had avoided capture for so long, and why it had taken stealing a priceless royal treasure for him to finally be caught and thrown in jail.

He could do this. He had to do this, because failure meant losing everything, and he couldn’t handle that again.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and began searching.

He didn’t need much, just some direction, just a tiny little tremor, the barest shifting of the sand to tell him approximately where the thing was.

He just had to concentrate.

“Erik, what are you...?”

“Shh! Don’t interrupt him. He’s looking for the monster.”

He almost wanted to smile at that. Of course Veronica would figure it out.

...Dammit, he needed to hurry. None of this would even matter if Eleven ran out of air before they were able to save him.

If that stupid thing was just sitting there, completely still, he wasn’t going to be able to—

He felt the ground beneath his fingers shift.

There.

Something was stirring under the surface, creating the smallest of ripples as the sand deep below them was displaced. A creature that massive couldn’t possibly move without creating some kind of disturbance, after all.

Found you, you bastard.

He began to gather his magic.

He could do this.

But first...

“I need you guys to be ready,” he said.

He could still feel Jade’s hand on his shoulder, and he didn’t need to look to know that the rest of them were all standing behind him.

“You found it?” asked Veronica, anger and hope at war in her voice. It wasn’t that dissimilar to his own emotions as he prepared to cast his spell.

“Yeah.”

He heard them all readying their weapons and felt Jade’s hand fall away from his shoulder as she stood up and grabbed her spear. He could still feel the beast moving beneath them, and so with everything he had—every ounce of determination and anger he possessed—he shoved all of his magic towards the monster.

Give him back to me.

He felt the spell take hold.

Give him back, dammit!

The entire cavern shook violently as something beneath the sand exploded, and almost immediately he could feel the ground trembling under his hands as the monster began to force its way to the surface.

His plan had worked.

Good.

Erik quickly got to his feet and drew his blades, only just remembering that one of them had definitely seen better days.

Whatever. It didn’t matter that one of them was broken. A slightly damaged dagger was better than no dagger at all. El probably wouldn’t yell at him.

Though if he shattered it during the battle, if he destroyed the blade completely, then the Luminary might have something to say about it.

But that was fine. He could yell at him all he wanted, because as long as Eleven was around to yell at him, that was all that mattered.

They would save him.

They would save him because that was the only option. He would accept nothing else.

Eleven couldn’t die.

The sand in front of them began to sink and then rise before a massive purple monster with sharp teeth, yellow spikes, and a large crystal upon its back emerged from the ground with a deafening roar.

This was it. They could do this. Even without their leader, they had fought together long enough to know what needed to be done.

They could do this.

Almost immediately, Veronica and Rab began assailing the monster with spells, throwing out fire and ice in equal measure. Erik hung back for just a moment until he felt the magic of Kabuff and Acceleratle wrap around him, giving him the edge that he would need, and then together with Jade, he charged forward in order to try and draw the creature’s attention away from their mages (buy time for the spellcasters—that was what Eleven always did, the backbone to all his strategies). The beast was huge though, just as big as a cactolotl, and so there wasn’t really an advantageous place to stab it. They had to make do with what they could reach, and that meant driving their blades deep into the monster’s side.

When Jade pulled the tip of her spear out, she cut upwards, leaving a large gash behind, and while Erik couldn’t make quite as impressive of a cut, he made several quick punctures before backing away just in time for the monster to try and swing at them, only for Ridgeraiser to activate and disrupt its attack.

He watched as a massive fireball slammed into its face, as ice rained down onto its back, followed by gales of wind that left several slices across its body. He could feel Kabuff and Acceleratle being cast once more before he saw Hendrik charge forward to help him and Jade, the three of them tearing into the creature as it launched a volley of spikes that thankfully everyone managed to avoid.

Their teamwork was solid. Everyone had a part to play, and they all followed their roles flawlessly.

...But it wasn’t enough.

They were holding their own, but it wasn’t enough.

They were running out of time.

Eleven was running out of time.

They needed to kill it now, before...before...

El...

Please be—

The monster roared in anger as Ridgeraiser activated again, stabbing its body from every angle with stone spikes. Infuriated, it reared back, raising one of its arms high.

They were too close to dodge. Hopefully Kabuff would do its job and keep them all from ending up with too serious of injuries.

However, something strange happened. Just as the monster was about to swing at them, its eyes bulged and it doubled over, groaning in what sounded a lot like pain.

They all momentarily halted their attacks, watching the beast in confusion.

“What’s going on?” he heard Jade ask, and just as the words escaped her lips, a bright light erupted from the creature's stomach. It was small at first, but it grew quickly, shining brighter and brighter until it had engulfed the monster entirely, flooding the cavern with a blinding light.

The beast flailed and roared, rearing back before doubling over once again, and as its entire body convulsed in pain, it opened its mouth wide. With one great heave, a wave of sand began to pour out, as well as chunks of ore and pieces of crystal...and in the middle of it all was a beautifully soft light that eventually faded away into a mass of purple and brown.

An unmoving mass of purple and brown.

Eleven.

Erik ran.

He didn’t stop until he reached the Luminary, falling to his knees next to him, pulling him out of the sand and into his arms.

He was pale.

“Please be okay...”

He was deathly pale and completely unresponsive, and he had practically been buried alive in that thing’s stomach for a horrible amount of time, but...

But he was breathing.

He was breathing.

Weak and shallow and slow, but El was alive, and in that moment, that was all that mattered.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t time for him to feel relieved.

“Erik!”

He turned his head towards Jade’s shout, only to see the monster swimming through the sand towards him with its mouth open wide.

There was nothing he could do. He wouldn’t be able to get both himself and Eleven out of the way. While he could carry the Luminary if he absolutely had to, there simply wasn’t time for it, and no matter what, Erik wasn’t leaving him.

He’d rather they both be swallowed than lose El again.

He pulled the unconscious boy close and braced for whatever was about to happen...only for the monster to completely swim past them.

Erik turned away in order to shield both himself and Eleven from the cloud of dust that was kicked up before looking over at the beast in disbelief.

Why hadn’t it eaten them?

He watched as it devoured everything in its path—sand, rock, ore, crystals—before finally turning around once it reached the far wall. Its eyes searched the sands until they fell on a rather large chunk of metal that had been thrown up earlier, only to dive onto it greedily and ingest it once more.

It didn’t seem to care at all about him and Eleven. It no longer seemed to care about any of them, really.

And that was when it clicked.

The ore.

It was after the ore.

That thing had been hiding under the sand the entire time that he, Eleven, and Hendrik had been exploring the cavern and digging in the rocks, but it had only emerged after the Luminary had dropped a good amount of dracolyte and some orichalcum onto the ground.

That’s what it had been after. It wasn’t interested in them.

It only wanted the ore.

He looked down at the pouch on El’s waist, the little bag that he had overfilled with materials, and a plan quickly took shape in his head.

They needed to run.

Even though they could probably take the beast down given enough time, El was hurt, and trying to protect him while also fighting a monster that could swim through the sand just as easily as a fish through the sea was a bad idea.

It was in their best interest to distract the creature and then flee while they could.

He knew what needed to be done.

The monster was currently looking away from them, still too busy scooping up all of the scattered ore, though the clouds of sand that it was kicking up while doing so were incredibly problematic. He could see everyone doing their best to shield their eyes from the grit.

There wasn’t that much ore left, and as soon as it was done, it would surely turn its attention back to them.

This was their only chance.

“Hendrik!” he called, turning to look at the knight, and to his credit, the man immediately began running over, not even bothering to ask Erik what he needed.

He probably would’ve smiled at that if the situation weren’t so dire.

Hendrik dropped down to one knee in front of him, and before the knight could say anything, the thief motioned to the Luminary.

“I need you to take him,” he said quickly. “Then go back to the others, tell them to run.”

“You have a plan?”

“Kind of.” It was a hastily thrown together plan, and he was basing a lot of it on assumptions, but it was the best he had. “That thing can’t leave this cavern, and right now it isn’t attacking us. It only cares about the ore. If we use some to distract it, I think we can get out of here without it noticing.”

He was half expecting Hendrik to question his decision to run away—he was the Hero of Heliodor after all, a man who had probably killed more monsters than the rest of them combined—but instead he simply reached for Eleven without a word and lifted the boy into his arms before getting back to his feet.

Erik was quick to stand as well, and the thief motioned for the knight to wait before looking down at the Luminary.

After all the work they went through, he really hated to do this, but...

“Sorry, partner,” he whispered as he reached over and opened the bag that hung at his friend’s waist. He grabbed a handful of dracolyte crystals and some densinium—not the orichalcum, because that stuff was rare and El would absolutely be disappointed about losing some of it—before closing it tight and looking back to Hendrik. “Go.”

The knight hesitated for just a moment, looking very much like he didn’t want to just leave Erik there, but in the end he did as he was told and ran back towards the rest of their party.

Hopefully the rest of them would listen too, would just run away without asking questions.

They almost never ran when fighting monsters—it was counterproductive to growing stronger—but this time around, they needed to let it go.

The monster finally stopped its rampage through the sands, having consumed every piece of ore in its path, and before it could shift its focus back to the people who had been attacking it, Erik threw a handful of dracolyte crystals in front of it.

Just as he suspected, the beast immediately focused on the sparkly little rocks on the ground and completely ignored everything else. It made sense, he supposed, that it would feed on ore. It’s not like there was anything else for it to eat, trapped as it was in the cavern. It was a real glutton though, the way it greedily snapped up even that tiny little bit.

Good. His plan would work then.

He began backing away before throwing a few more pieces, this time a little further out. He needed to make sure there was enough distance between him and the monster, so that when he ran out of stuff to feed it, he could make a mad dash for the door without having to worry about being overtaken. The thing was fast, despite its size, and if it decided to hunt him down, he would be done for. His sigil had worn off a while ago after all, and there wouldn’t be time to place another one while it was charging towards him.

He had to be quick but careful.

Thankfully he had always been good at that.

He threw a few more pieces, then a couple more, spacing them out so that it would take the creature a few laps through the sand to be able to consume them all. When he got to the final few crystals, he simply chucked them all at once, as hard as he possibly could, before turning on his heel and sprinting towards the door.

He could hear the beast moving behind him, but he spared it no mind as he ran. Everyone else had already made it, and he could see Jade and Sylvando standing by the door, watching both him and the monster warily.

When their eyes suddenly widened, he knew he didn’t have much time, and the deafening roar behind him only emphasized that fact.

He didn’t dare turn to look; it would only slow him down. Instead he kept his eyes on the entrance. He watched as Sylvando motioned for him to hurry, as Jade was practically shoved aside by Veronica. He watched as the pint-sized mage placed herself in the doorway and began conjuring a massive ball of fire between her hands, only to send it flying into the room.

It sailed right past him, slamming into the monster behind him, and as it roared in pain, he used what little time he had been given to propel himself the rest of the way forward.

Sylvando caught his arm as soon as he was through the door. He heard the sound of metal slamming, of a lock clicking shut, and despite feeling like he had just run an entire Gallopolitan racecourse on foot, he couldn’t help but turn and look into the room through the metal bars.

The monster was just sitting there, glaring at them.

It had cuts and burns all over its body, a few deep gashes along its side, and yet not a single one of those wounds had truly hindered it, had done anything more than buy a couple seconds of precious time.

A part of him couldn’t help but wonder if whoever put up that door had done it to protect the ore from would-be miners...or to protect the miners from an ore-devouring monster.

For just a moment, it felt like time was standing still. Not a single one of them moved as they stared at the creature, watching with bated breath, waiting to see what would happen, if it would attempt to pursue them after all and simply break through the wall of the cavern...but in the end, after what felt like an eternity, the beast at last turned away and retreated beneath the sand.

It felt like the world itself breathed a sigh of relief.

It was over.

They were safe.

(And in the middle of the room, amidst the sand and rock, an innocuous purple crystal emerged from the ground, as still and innocent as ever).

Perhaps sometimes it was better to leave locked doors closed.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19: A Momentary Weakness

Eleven doesn’t like the dark.

While he wouldn’t necessarily say that he was afraid of it, he definitely had an aversion to being left alone in the darkness—and he wasn’t talking about the gentle, quiet darkness of the night. Growing up, he had never been one of those children who needed stories and songs and candlelight in order to fall asleep. Things like shadows in the corners or noises outside simply hadn’t bothered him. They had been normal, something that was expected when the sun went down. They weren’t anything to be afraid of.

He had never felt anything other than safe while living in Cobblestone. No matter how dark the night became, he had never been scared of it.

Perhaps the reason for that was because there was a light constantly burning inside him, a light that he had been born with—a gift from Yggdrasil Herself—one that was capable of illuminating even the deepest darkness. The Luminary was meant to be a light for all of Erdrea. Maybe that was why he had never been afraid of the dark.

...Until the world ended, that is.

Until he had been overpowered and overwhelmed, struck down and tossed aside—and that precious light within him, the World Tree’s light, had been ripped from his chest and snuffed out, giving rise to a monster who had plunged the world into an unending darkness.

Although he had no memory of what happened after, aside from the echo of an excruciating pain, it didn’t change the fact that for months on end, he had been left alone in the dark...and while he slept and healed, surrounded by a veil of pitch black, the rest of the world had suffered.

While he had been lying there, safely stowed away in Nautica, his friends and family had been left to struggle without him, to wander the world in search of hope, clinging to the belief that he was still alive, that all wasn’t yet lost, that there was still something they could do. Some of them had had more luck than others, while some of them had been forced to endure immense hardship, doing all that they could just to survive.

He never wants to put any of them through that again.

He isn’t afraid of the dark.

He’s afraid of what comes after.

He’s afraid of opening his eyes to a world that’s changed, to friends who are gone, and to time that’s been lost.

He’s afraid of what might happen without him, of the things that could occur while he’s trapped in the darkness.

He hates it, that feeling of helplessness, of being able to do nothing but drift off, directionless.

It wasn’t that dissimilar to how he was feeling now, really—all alone in the dark. There had been a bright light for just a moment, one that lit up almost every corner of his pitch-black world, but it had faded almost as quickly as it appeared, leaving him just floating in an empty void.

He hated it.

He wanted to wake up.

...Eleven.

He can’t stand being alone like this.

Hey, Eleven.

He wants to wake up.

Eleven!

He needs to—

Come on, El, just—

Wake up.

There was a sharp tug at the edge of his mind, and just like that, a tiny light began to shine in the darkness. He could feel the soft touch of magic, familiar and gentle as it was pushed into him, and suddenly all of the sensations that were usually lost to him in the dark began to return in pieces. He could feel a solid wall behind him and rocky ground beneath him. He could sense people standing nearby, could hear quiet whispers and the sound of breathing, and there was someone kneeling right in front of him with their hands pressed to the sides of his head.

He felt sluggish and tired, but the magic being shoved into him was helping, and before long his scattered thoughts began to collect and settle as he was slowly pulled out of the darkness and brought back into a world that was filled with light.

A very blurry world, unfortunately.

That always seemed to happen whenever he was forced out of sleep.

Eleven blinked a few times until he could see actual shapes instead of just a blur of colors, and as his eyes finally focused, he heard a few soft gasps, a few quiet sighs, and felt the hands on the side of his head twitch before slowly pulling away.

With only a little difficulty, he raised his head and found himself looking up into wide blue eyes.

Erik.

The thief was staring at him with something close to relief, though it actually looked a lot more like panic or fear, and even though he had pulled them away, his hands were still hovering in the air next to Eleven.

...Oh, right—Erik had magic that could wake someone up, that could pull a person back into the waking world. He had almost forgotten about that. The thief didn’t use it very often, even during the times where Eleven was at his laziest and refused to get up and start the day, but he had gotten good enough with it to bring someone out of the lighter stages of unconsciousness.

That was a relief at least, to know that whatever had happened to him, he hadn’t been too far under for his friend to pull him back...but the look on Erik’s face made him wonder if maybe it had been a closer call than he thought, and when he looked up and saw that everyone else was watching him with a similar expression, he knew that he had to be missing something (that was generally the case when it came to being unconscious).

His head was still a bit fuzzy, and there were a few gaps in his memory that definitely needed to be cleared up, but just as he was about to ask what had happened, the arms hovering next to him moved.

Eleven gave a startled gasp as he suddenly found himself being pulled into a hug by his best friend.

A very tight hug.

In front of everyone.

There was a hand pressed against his back and another gripping his shoulder, both clutching almost desperately at the fabric of his shirt. His partner’s head was practically resting in the crook of his neck, and as the thief took a deep breath only to release it in a shuddering sigh, Eleven immediately knew that something must have gone very, very wrong.

The Luminary could count on just two hands the number of times that Erik had hugged him—actually hugged him, not just the arm thrown over his shoulder or the half-hug that was a little more common between them. It generally only happened after really difficult battles, where things had taken a turn for the worse and they were both lucky to still be alive...although there had been a couple of exceptions to that.

Both of them had happened in the future though.

The first time had been after everything in Sniflheim was dealt with and they’d all had a chance to unwind and process for a bit, because prior to Erik getting his memories back, the last time they had really seen each other was when the world was ending. And despite being told that his partner hadn’t given up hope, had believed that Eleven was still alive somewhere, he had also admitted to finding it impossible to ignore that small seed of doubt after everything that had happened, that tiny bit of fear that their Luminary could’ve actually been killed, that they might have lost him when the World Tree fell.

Eleven could admit to having been afraid too, despite what Queen Marina had told him, despite her reassurance that his friends were still alive and still fighting against the darkness...and in the end, his fear had been justified.

He had learned the hard way that being chosen wasn’t enough to save him, to save any of them. They had only survived through a sacrifice, and it had really driven home just how close things had been, how lucky they all were to have made it out alive.

Being hugged after months of being apart had made sense.

...And the second time had been before he shattered Time’s Sphere, before he made the decision to redo everything for that slim chance of being able to fix it, to correct his greatest mistake. Saying goodbye was never easy, and to make matters worse, there had been no guarantee that things would work out, that he wouldn’t end up trapped and alone, left to drift across time for all eternity.

Being hugged before leaving forever had also made sense.

Those were the two exceptions—a greeting after months apart and a final parting before everything changed—but for the most part, whenever Erik hugged him, it was very much a “thank Yggdrasil you’re still alive” kind of hug.

Which meant that something had happened to bring his continued existence into question.

But what happened exactly?

He wracked his brain for an answer and began retracing his steps. They were currently in the Battleground; he definitely remembered that much. They had been walking for a long time until they stopped to take a break, and then he, Erik, and Hendrik had gone into that locked cavern to look around.

He could remember mining for ore, could remember watching in horror as his two friends used the daggers that he had so lovingly crafted to pry crystals out the wall only for one to break (he was still maybe a little bit frustrated about that), and he could remember dividing up his haul only for Hendrik to take his bag (he was still maybe a little bit frustrated about that as well) before the three of them started to make their way out of the cavern.

That was where things got fuzzy.

They had been walking, and he had dropped some of his ore.

Erik had picked it up for him, had given it all back to him, and then...

Then the cavern suddenly shook and the ground had started to shift beneath them.

The ground had been made up of sand. He remembered that rather strange detail. Hendrik had even pointed out how strange it was when he first looked into the room.

Sand...

Sand.

With an innocuous purple crystal sticking out of it...

...Oh.

Oh...

He maybe understood why Erik was hugging him now.

“...There was a monster beneath the sand, and...I was swallowed, wasn’t I,” he said softly, a little disbelievingly, but it wasn’t a question because he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

He felt his friend flinch against him before slowly pulling away. Erik didn’t go far though, just enough for Eleven to be able to see his face, to see the pain and the fear that were still there, even though the whole ordeal was over. His hands shifted to settle comfortably on the Luminary’s shoulders, but it felt like he was trying very hard not to grip them too tightly, not to simply pull him back into another hug (it’s not like Eleven would’ve minded if he did).

“Yeah,” Erik said just as softly. “You were.”

He didn’t really know what to say to that, and so he said the only thing he could, the thing he always said whenever he ended up worrying any of them.

“I’m sorry.”

Erik’s brow furrowed, the corner of his mouth turning downward into a slight frown. It looked like he really wanted to say something, but before he could tell Eleven that he didn’t need to apologize or yell at him for pushing him out of the way (because he definitely remembered shoving the thief, prioritizing his friend’s safety over his own, and that was absolutely the kind of thing that Erik would yell at him for), he caught movement from the corner of his eye and saw Rab kneel down next to him.

“How are ye feeling, laddie?” he asked, not without a good deal of concern, but it was a fairly common question by this point. This certainly wasn’t the first time that one of them had gotten hurt (though it was the first time that any of them had been eaten).

“I’m...” He took a moment to think about it, because he knew that “fine” and “alright” were usually frowned upon whenever he was supposed to be answering that question. “I’m a little tired, and my head still feels kind of fuzzy, but nothing hurts. I should be able to keep going. I don’t think we have much further to go anyway, so we should be able to find the ore we need and make it back to Hotto before it gets too late.”

The look on his grandfather’s face implied that that was quite possibly the last thing he cared about in that moment, and on his other side, he heard a very annoyed, borderline angry and definitely frustrated growl—an honest to goodness growl—courtesy of their fiery mage.

He turned his head and came face to face with Veronica, who was very nearly glaring at him.

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about,” she practically yelled, and not without a good amount of exasperation mixed in. “Honestly, I can’t believe you sometimes! You could have died. We all could’ve died. If that thing ate people instead of ore, we might not have made it out of there at all!”

...It ate ore?

That...actually made a lot of sense if he thought about it. That would explain why it had been content to let them be up until the point where he had dropped a bunch of his crystals on the ground (and a bit of orichalcum too. He was maybe a little disappointed about that).

Still looking pretty frustrated with him, Veronica held his gaze unwaveringly and then whipped one of her arms outward to point at Erik, who flinched back at the gesture.

“Instead of apologizing, thank him,” Veronica demanded. “He’s the only reason you’re still alive.”

“Veronica...” his friend hissed in warning, only to bite off whatever else he was about to say once Eleven looked up at him.

Erik looked uncomfortable, which was generally how he looked anytime someone singled him out. He wasn’t necessarily bad at accepting praise (on the rare occasions where Veronica paid him a compliment, he actually treated it like some sort of victory), but at the same time it often made him uneasy. Much like Eleven, he wasn’t always good at being thanked. It was one thing to praise a person’s skills or abilities, but it was another thing entirely to praise their actions.

Still though, if what Veronica had said was true, then...

“Thank you,” he said, as earnestly as he possibly could. “...And I’m sorry for worrying you.”

His partner looked very much like he didn’t want to be having this conversation. With a soft sigh, he pulled his hands away from Eleven’s shoulders and reached up to rub the back of his neck nervously.

“Yeah, well...maybe try to keep that in mind when you’re fixing my dagger later?”

He blinked a few times at his friend before a smile began to spread across his face.

“I’ll try,” he promised, earning him a small grin in return...and a sigh from Veronica.

“The two of you are ridiculous,” she said with a slightly fed-up shake of her head, and Eleven was tempted to ask her what exactly she meant by that but was interrupted by Hendrik.

“Can you stand, Eleven?” the knight asked.

He took a moment to think about it. He hadn’t been lying earlier when he said that nothing hurt, but he did feel kind of tired, and there was a heaviness in his limbs that was probably from more than just all the walking he had done.

He doesn’t actually know what happened to him. He only remembers being eaten, but having to be pulled out of unconsciousness generally didn’t imply anything good.

He had been swallowed along with a lot of sand.

He had probably been suffocating...

(Maybe it was better if he just didn’t think about it).

“Yes,” he told Hendrik, because despite the heaviness and the creeping exhaustion at the edge of his mind, he was pretty sure he could. He also didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. They were so close to their destination; it wouldn’t make sense to leave empty-handed now.

He slowly began to move, trying to get his legs under him, and he watched as Erik got to his feet before offering the Luminary a hand, which Eleven gratefully took.

He swayed a bit once he was finally standing, and the hand around his tightened.

Erik was looking at him with that wary, worried expression again.

“I promise I’m alright,” he told his friend, and even though the thief didn’t look entirely convinced of that fact, he breathed a soft sigh and let the Luminary go.

Eleven looked down at himself and brushed some of the dust and sand off of his clothes (he was probably going to have to wash them after this), only to catch sight of his mostly empty bag, which definitely hadn’t been empty the last time he had seen it.

He pressed his hand against the bottom and could feel less than half of the ore he remembered having.

“What happened to all my—?”

“The monster ate it,” Erik and Hendrik said in unison, which immediately sparked some suspicion, especially since neither of them could seem to look him in the eye. He was about to open his mouth to ask how the monster had eaten it, especially since his bag was still very much intact, but this time his curiosity was interrupted by Sylvando.

“How about we just move on for now, darling,” the jester suggested. “You can ask all the questions you want once we’re back in Hotto.”

...That was fair, he supposed. It was getting late, after all.

“Fine,” he said, “but I want the full story later, alright?”

He was met with a chorus of agreement, albeit far more reluctantly than he was used to (he really had scared them all, it seemed. Maybe he could make it up to them later with another nice meal and a trip to the bathhouse).

With that taken care of, the eight of them made their way out of the small tunnel and back onto the stone ramp that would eventually lead them to their destination.

And none of them spared even a single glance back at the locked door behind them.

“...But can this be true? Can it be that you have it—the treasure I seek? P-P-Please sell it to me, I beg you! How does 22,500 gold coins sound?”

Eleven almost took a step back in surprise. It really did startle him anytime one of the soft-spoken, poetic inhabitants of Hotto suddenly broke from their traditional speech pattern.

The man must truly be desperate.

“I don’t need any money,” Eleven said, and thank goodness none of his friends were around at the moment, because that definitely wasn’t true—he had been spending a lot of it lately—but at the same time, he just couldn’t bring himself to accept it. “I’m giving it to you because I want to.”

The man just stared at him with wide eyes, clearly flustered.

“B-B-But this is the rarest metal in all Erdrea, believed by many to be nothing but a myth! To accept such a thing without payment, with nothing given back in return... Surely it was not easy to procure.”

It wasn’t. He had kind of maybe almost died to get it, but the man didn’t need to know that.

“It’s fine,” he told the blacksmith, offering him the bag of orichalcum. “I want you to have it.”

Despite still looking very uncertain about this, the man accepted the bag from Eleven and opened it a little wider to better peer inside.

There was a lot of orichalcum in there. In the end, the Luminary had decided to give all but a few pieces of it over to the blacksmith. In fact, he had given most of his haul from the Battleground in general over to the Hotto blacksmiths, because while he had the freedom to return to the floating island at will to gather more, they did not. It had seemed like the better decision. They surely needed it more than he did.

“There is so much here,” the man said in awe. “To desire no payment...are you sure of this?”

“I’m sure.”

He closed the bag before giving his attention back to the Luminary, his brow furrowing. While there was no suspicion in his expression, there was a bit of wariness as well as some guilt, and maybe he could understand that to some extent. It was probably strange to be presented with the very thing he had been seeking, something that so many people thought didn’t even exist, only to be told that he didn’t need to pay a single gold coin for it in return.

But that was simply the way Eleven was. It was fine if people looked at him strangely for it. He had no intention of changing.

The man looked back down at the bag, then back up at the Luminary before something seemed to spark in his eyes and a small smile began to spread across his face.

“This is my life’s dream,” he said. “To leave you empty-handed, would be a great crime. If not gold you seek, perhaps another offer. Will you hear me out?”

It would be rude not to, he supposed, and he could admit to being curious about what the man had in mind.

“Alright.”

“This orichalcum, it is enough for two blades, for two Swords of Kings. You are a swordsman, so were I to forge both swords, would you accept one?”

Eleven’s eyes widened. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“I...” A sword forged from orichalcum, the strongest metal on Erdrea. It would surely be a great asset.

He already had plans to forge his own sword, another Sword of Light, but it was true that the ability to do that was still a ways off yet. He still needed to find lumen essence for Miko before he would ask her for access to The Crucible. Until then, he had planned on just making do with one sword like he had been...but if he could have a blade made from orichalcum...

“It is a fair trade, for so generous a gift,” the blacksmith insisted, his voice soft and earnest. “Please allow me this.”

He hadn’t done this to get something out of it, but the man looked like he very much wanted Eleven to accept something in return, and for a swordsmith in particular, there was no greater honor or accomplishment than for someone to wield one of their blades.

...And it would surely serve him well on his quest to save Ryu.

“I accept.”

The man gave him a blinding smile and promised that he would get started right away, that the blade would be ready within the week. Time was really no issue though, since Eleven could return to Hotto whenever he wanted thanks to Zoom, so after assuring the man that he would be back in about seven days, he bid him farewell and began to make his way towards the inn.

It was getting late. Night would be fully upon them soon, but he was pretty sure that all of his friends were still at the bathhouse, meaning that he could sneak back to his room and get ready for bed without anyone noticing. He had ducked out early, just like he always did, but this time he’d at least had an excuse to explain the painfully short amount of time that he had spent in the steam baths, so surely no one would question it. He had been starting to worry that one of them would ask him why he always left so early, why he was always the last one in and the first to leave, but so far they hadn’t decided to bother him about it, and thankfully after tonight, he would no longer need to worry about being found out.

In the morning, they would be zooming back to Gondolia, sailing to Puerto Valor, making a quick trip up to Angri-La to visit Grand Master Pang, and then heading out onto the open ocean where they would begin making their way towards Sniflheim.

Because in the end, they had all agreed that Krystalinda and the Royal Library were probably their best bets at finding out anything at all about lumen essence.

He wasn’t going to pretend that the thought of heading to Sniflheim didn’t make him a little anxious—for more reasons than one, really. There was of course the obvious one, the thing that sat at the top of his list—the thing that he was pretty sure his friend would finally bring up once they arrived in the crystal kingdom—and all Eleven could really do about it was hope that whatever power he had now would be enough to save Mia. After everything that Erik had done for him, the last thing he wanted was to let him down.

If he wasn’t enough...

Eleven shook his head. There was no point in dwelling on it. He would lift the curse. Anything less was unacceptable.

The other reason that he was anxious about heading to Sniflheim was fairly simple. It was also something that he could literally do nothing about.

It was cold.

Sniflheim was cold, and while that hadn’t bothered him too much the first time he had visited, it bothered him a lot now.

He had learned in the future that “cold” plus “scars” was a bad combination.

He was going to be in a lot of pain during their stay in the frigid kingdom.

It hadn’t really been that big of a problem last time, because his wounds weren’t a thing he had needed to hide before. Everyone had known, and so constantly chewing on medicinal herbs and using salves to help ease the pain hadn’t been an issue...but he wouldn’t be able to do that this time. If he wanted to keep his secret, he was simply going to have to put up with it and maybe sneak in some medicine when no one was looking. While the one on his back wasn’t too bad and hadn’t really given him much trouble, the one on his chest was another matter entirely.

It was going to be terrible. Hopefully they would be able to find what they were looking for quickly and then move on. Hopefully Sniflheim wouldn’t be dealing with yet another crisis (they had by far been the most unfortunate of all the places he had visited, first having the entire kingdom and all its people turned to ice and then later turned to gold). Hopefully this time around, they had been able to catch a break.

He wouldn’t be holding his breath though.

Nothing was ever that easy.

After reaching the inn, Eleven made his way up the stairs and over to the room he had been sharing with Erik. Just like he had thought, the thief wasn’t back yet, and so without wasting any time, he quickly got changed into his sleep shirt and pants, grabbed his lists, a stack of extra paper, and a pencil, and then proceeded to take a seat at the room’s only desk. He had spent a lot of time there in the last few days, working on both of his lists, plus jotting down a separate list of supplies. He had a few things he needed to add after their trek through the Battleground, since they had gone through a good amount of healing items. They would need to restock before heading out.

He needed to make a list of food too, since they were going to be sailing across the open ocean for a while. He had a rough idea of what they still had left aboard the Salty Stallion, so he could work on putting something together at least, but he would definitely need to take stock before sending anyone out to purchase provisions. Gondolia was likely their best bet for that, although Puerto Valor had a lot to offer as well...

He would think on it more later.

First things first, he had a few lists to fix.

Erik gave a soft sigh as he stood in the men’s changing room and proceeded to pull his shirt back over his head.

Eleven had left early again.

That made three nights in a row where the Luminary had left the baths before the rest of them. It was a little strange to say the least, especially since he always came in after the rest of them too.

Maybe he just couldn’t handle too much steam? Maybe he got lightheaded really easily or something? He hadn’t said as much, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true. Still though, they had all had a really long day, and he had thought that maybe this time Eleven would decide to stay a little longer and actually take some time to relax. Not the case, apparently.

Hopefully he had gone back to the inn in order to turn in early for the night. He had definitely looked like he could use some sleep (they kind of all did, really).

After adorning the rest of this clothes and discarding the bathhouse’s shirt and pants into a nearby laundry basket, he made his way down the hall, fully intending to head back to the inn and check on Eleven.

He didn’t even make it a foot out the door before someone stopped him.

“Erik.”

Startled, he whirled around only to see Jade casually leaning against the wall next to the exit.

“I was wondering when you’d finally be out,” she said, which was confusing, because it implied that she had been there for a while.

“What the...have you seriously just been standing there waiting for me this whole time?” he asked, bewildered. Surely she had more important things to be doing. Just how early did she leave the baths to make sure she wouldn’t miss him?

“It was the only way I could catch you without running into Eleven,” she told him, which...okay, fair enough. He wasn’t going to pretend that wasn’t true.

Still though, this was a little out of the ordinary.

“Did you need me for something?” he asked, unsure, because he genuinely had no idea what the princess of Heliodor could possibly want with him. The two of them got along pretty well, despite their rocky start, and he couldn’t remember having done anything to irritate her as of late. Half the time when she approached him, it was because she wanted a sparring partner, but he got the feeling that wasn’t the case this time.

“I wanted to talk to you,” she said. “But not here. Come on.”

She pushed away from the wall and began heading for the door, motioning for him to follow. He had little choice in the matter, really, and so with only a bit of hesitation, he began to trail after her as they made their way out of the bathhouse.

It was late. The sky was dark, and the moon was high in the sky. However, the entire town was lit with lanterns and torches, every path and house illuminated, the long stairways especially so. It was necessary in a mountainside village like this, where one wrong step could equal several broken bones if someone were to take a tumble down the stairs or even down some of the slopes. He was sure that the residents were used to it, but as a tourist town, the overabundance of lanterns made sense.

He would be lying if he said it wasn’t stunning. The lights gave the entire town an almost ethereal glow, even in the dead of night (perhaps especially in the dead of night).

Erik likes Hotto. He likes it for several reasons. It was the first new place that he and Eleven had went to, it was where they had met Veronica and Serena, it was where they first got some real direction with their quest, and although some of the residents weren’t entirely pleasant (like that man working at the tavern), most of the people were friendly and welcoming. It was a nice place, and he certainly wouldn’t mind spending a few weeks just lazing around, enjoying the food, and spending time at the bathhouse.

El had expressed an interest in asking the blacksmiths to teach him how to use a normal forge once their quest was over. That would probably take some time, maybe a week or two at least.

Perhaps Erik could tag along with him, and Mia too if she wanted.

Surely he wouldn’t mind, right? It’s not like they would get in his way.

...Maybe he would ask him later. He could add it to his list of “things to talk to the Luminary about.”

As Erik quietly followed Jade through the peaceful little town, it took him a moment to realize that she wasn’t heading back to the inn. In fact, it didn’t seem like she really had much of a destination in mind at all.

“Um...where are we going?” he asked.

“Somewhere quiet,” was the very short, clipped answer he got in response.

Erik fought the urge to turn around and run away. This was starting to feel more like it was going to be an interrogation and not just a friendly chat.

What could Jade possibly want with him?

She led him over to the far end of town, towards the stairs that led up to Hotto’s massive forge, but instead of ascending them, she moved off to the side, finally coming to a stop amidst a small patch of greenery. She took up a position of calmly leaning against one of the wooden beams of the stairway as Erik moved to stand in front of her, and even though everything about her in that moment screamed “casual,” when she finally raised her eyes to meet his, he found steel in her gaze.

There was something else there too, something that looked a lot like worry hidden beneath that unwavering resolve.

“I wanted to ask you about Eleven,” she said very bluntly, cutting right to the chase, and her tone implied that this time she wasn’t going to accept any of his excuses or attempts to sidestep the conversation.

Erik swallowed hard. This was an interrogation (he should’ve fled when he had the chance).

“What about him?” he asked carefully, because he still didn’t really know what this was about.

...Wait.

Surely she wasn’t going to ask him about... There was no way she could possibly... Yes, Erik had hugged him maybe a little bit desperately in front of everyone, but that couldn’t be enough to—

“During the race this morning, you told Akia and Hakim that Eleven didn’t want people to treat him like he’s someone special just because he’s the Luminary,” she began, watching him with narrowed eyes. “Did he say something to you about it? Because it seemed like maybe there was more to it than just not wanting to be seen as special.”

Erik just stood there and blinked at her for a moment before realization finally dawned.

Oh, right—he had completely forgotten about that (after what happened at the Battleground, the race in Gallopolis felt like days ago, not just that morning).

He had told her “later,” hadn’t he. He should’ve known that she would hold him to it.

...He wasn’t really sure if he wanted to have this conversation any more than he had wanted to have the other one (although this one would probably be less embarrassing at the very least).

“He might have,” he replied, because a part of him felt like he probably shouldn’t say too much. Everything that Eleven had told him, he had done so in confidence—especially that conversation in Cobblestone. He wasn’t sure if the Luminary would be alright with everyone else knowing. While it was true that El didn’t need to hide from them—from any of them—it wasn’t really Erik’s place to spill his secrets. If he went and blabbed to everyone about all of the things that his partner had told him, he’d probably never be trusted with another secret again.

Jade crossed her arms over her chest and fixed him with a look.

“Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?” she asked with just a touch of sarcasm, which he could appreciate, but it didn’t make him feel any more inclined to tell her anything.

“You might have to guess.”

“Erik...”

“Look, okay—yes, he said something to me, but I don’t know if I should...I mean, you all kind of deserve to know, but at the same time I can’t just tell you. If you guys want to know what’s up with him, you should just ask him yourself. That’s what I did.”

He watched as the eyes looking back at him fell, and he was surprised to see something sad and somber but still very worried wash over the princess’s face.

“I’ve tried,” she admitted softly. “He doesn’t talk as openly as he used to.”

“...No, he doesn’t.” It was true. Erik had fought pretty hard for some of the things he had learned, when prior to Calasmos, the Luminary had come to him with almost everything. There hadn’t really been any secrets. While he had still had to prod at him occasionally to get him to say what was really on his mind (El had a bad habit of trying to push things down so that none of them would worry), it hadn’t really taken much to get him to open up.

That certainly wasn’t the case now, and if Erik were a less patient person, he might’ve given up. Getting the truth out of Eleven was a difficult process, and he knew that despite all of the progress he had made, his friend was still hiding something. He was probably hiding several somethings, but the thief was trying really hard to drill it into his head that he didn’t need to be so worried all the time, didn’t need to keep everything bottled up and close to the chest.

Maybe one day El would finally realize that there was nothing he could do or say that would make them love him any less.

“I can understand not wanting to be treated like he’s special just because he’s the Luminary,” said Jade. “I can also understand not wanting to be recognized, especially after what happened in Gallopolis, but I get the feeling it’s more than that.”

She raised her eyes once more, and he saw some of her earlier fire (and frustration) return.

“Can’t you at least tell me something, or are you really going to make me guess? Because I will. We can spend all night doing this if you want.”

Something told him that wasn’t just an idle threat...

...Maybe just one thing.

None of the Cobblestone stuff, but maybe just a bit of what they had talked about yesterday. Jade wasn’t exactly the type of person to go around spilling secrets.

He also really didn’t want to be out here all night dodging questions.

“Fine, you win,” he agreed with a sigh before taking a deep breath. “He told me that he doesn’t want people to know he’s the Luminary because he’s afraid of being treated differently. He doesn’t want people to think they owe him anything, and he...he’s worried about not being able to tell the difference between someone who’s kind to him because they want to be and someone who feels like they have to be.”

He didn’t really want to say anything more than that, and thankfully it seemed like he wouldn’t need to, because understanding immediately dawned in Jade’s eyes, followed very quickly by concern.

“He knows it isn’t like that, right?” she asked, and he found that he wasn’t at all surprised that she immediately jumped to the same fear that he had. “None of us are with him just because he’s the Luminary. He’s so much more than that.”

“He knows,” he reassured her. “I made sure he knows.”

Relief washed over the princess’s face, and he watched her shoulders relax as she gave a soft sigh, but as she looked at him, something strange flashed through her eyes, and he suddenly found himself on the end of a gaze that felt just a little too knowing. It was a very curious expression, both because of how she was looking at him and the fact that he couldn’t quite place the emotion on her face. It was soft and maybe a bit grateful, and the smile she was giving him was something that was generally reserved for Eleven.

It was weird. He didn’t really know what to make of it, and despite the kindness in it, that look was putting him a little on edge.

“Erik,” she began warmly, “I don’t know if I’ve ever thanked you.”

Now he was even more confused.

“For what?” he asked, because it’s not like he had really done anything aside from provide a single answer to her very weighted question.

The smile on her face grew just a touch fond.

“For always looking after him.”

...It was funny just how quickly confusion could be replaced with embarrassment. He immediately looked away from her as a hand came up to rub at the back of his neck.

He wasn’t good at this, accepting gratitude, especially not for something that he didn’t really consider to be anything special. El was his partner, so of course he was going to look after him. Whether it be during battle, outside of battle, all the quiet moments in between, his job was to help the Luminary, to be by his side through everything. That was simply how it worked.

Eleven’s responsibility was to the world, and Erik’s responsibility was to Eleven.

It’s not like he was doing it because he had to. He was doing it because he wanted to, and he didn’t need to be thanked for it.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” he said, earning him a wry smile that still looked just a touch fond.

“I know,” she said, “but I still want to, so thank you, Erik.”

She pushed off against the wooden beam she was leaning on and began to walk away, but just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, she stopped just a few feet behind him.

“Oh, right, I forgot that there was something else I wanted to ask.”

...Great.

With a deep breath, he turned around to see her looking over her shoulder at him. There was no fondness this time. In fact, he would almost call the grin on her face impish (she had clearly been spending too much time with Veronica and Sylvando).

“What’s your secret to get him to talk? You’re clearly better at it than the rest of us.”

...It felt very much like she was trying to imply something by that, and so he tried to approach her question with caution, but in the end there was really only one answer to it.

“I’m very insistent, and sometimes he just needs a good push. Aside from that, you just have to be patient with him.”

“...I’ll try to remember that.”

And with that said, she took her leave, more than likely heading back to the inn (or back to the bathhouse. It was entirely possible that someone would need to drag Rab out since this would be their last night in Hotto. He was probably trying to enjoy it for as long as they would let him).

Erik heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

What a hectic day...

He wasn’t sure if he had ever experienced such a vast array of emotions in such a short period of time before. It was exhausting, and he wanted very much to just go back to his room and collapse into bed.

With that thought in mind, he made his way across the main square and over to the inn, and as he trudged up the stairs and walked quietly down the hall, he wondered if Eleven was already asleep. The Luminary had gone back more than an hour ago, and it was getting pretty late. Surely he had to be in bed by now.

However, there was very clearly a light beneath their door, and as Erik pushed it open, his eyes were immediately drawn to the desk.

There was Eleven, scribbling away on a piece of paper. Again.

His partner looked up at the sound of the door opening and offered the thief a smile before returning to whatever new list he was working on. Supplies, most likely. They were going to need to stock up on a lot of things for the next stretch of their journey...and the less he thought about that, the better.

Without a word, Erik moved across the room to where his bag was and began to get ready for bed.

He tried very, very hard not to let his mind wander. So far he had been doing an admirable job of ignoring everything, of pushing it all down, but he was getting tired, and that was generally when all of his carefully constructed walls began to crack and the tight hold he usually kept on himself would start to loosen.

It had been a long day.

It had been a really long day...

As soon as he had pulled his sleep shirt over his head and piled all of his stuff into the corner, he walked over and took a seat on his bed.

He needed to sleep.

He needed to sleep, because tomorrow would be a new day, and that meant that the events that had transpired earlier would be easier to deal with, easier to put aside...or so he hoped, anyway. Reality wasn’t always that kind, and he prayed to whoever would listen that they wouldn’t replay behind his eyes while he slept, that he wouldn’t be met with a chamber full of sand and an aching loss in his chest while he drifted off into the dark. It had been months since he’d had a nightmare, and he really didn’t want that to become a thing again, not when Eleven was generally nearby and had a compulsive need to help people (even though Erik had specifically told him not to in this regard).

However, after what had happened...

Erik lifted his head and looked over at his partner, at the bow of his back and the curve of his shoulders, the way his hair fell in a veil around his face as he leaned over the desk, his blue eyes focused and intent as he stared down at whatever he was writing.

Looking at him now, no one would ever think that just mere hours ago, he had nearly died.

...He had nearly died.

Erik’s hands clenched around the sheets of his bed as a pit opened up in his stomach.

They’ve had a few close calls throughout the course of their journey; it was to be expected given the nature of their quest. All of them have gotten hurt before, and some of them have even been unconscious before (though El definitely held the record for that one), and while there was always a general sense of panic anytime one of them was injured, none of them had ever gotten hurt badly enough where Serena or Rab couldn’t fix them, couldn’t heal away the damage. Probably the most dire that things had ever gotten was during the trial, where Eleven had been at risk of bleeding out if he wasn’t healed in time (blood loss was dangerous, because if a person lost too much, then not even a spell as powerful as Kazing would be enough to bring them back).

However, with the exception of fatal injuries and lost limbs, wounds could almost always be healed. As long as they weren’t too severe, there was always a chance for the person to survive.

...But what happened today had been different.

Eleven had been taken from them.

He’d been gone.

He had disappeared right in front of Erik’s eyes, and if that monster had been smarter, if it had remained hidden beneath the sand—if it had chosen to just ignore them all even after Erik had placed a sigil...

Eleven could’ve died.

He could’ve died, and then everything would’ve been over—not just their hopes of defeating Calasmos, not just their ability to save Erdrea, but everything.

Every bit of hope he had, every plan he had ever made for the future... In a single, devastating instant, he had watched it all disappear. He had watched, powerless, as one of the only things he couldn’t afford to lose was stolen from him.

He had almost lost everything...and all he would’ve been left with was a lifetime’s worth of regrets.

“I’m just sayin’, maybe you shouldn’t wait too long! What if something were to happen? You don’t want to regret not sayin’ anything, right?”

His hands clenched a little tighter.

That night in Cobblestone, Derk had told him not to wait too long, that he should say something before it was too late.

...It had almost been too late.

He had almost lost him. His Luminary.

He watched Eleven as his partner sat there, still working away at his list, the soft sound of a pencil scratching against paper the only noise in the room...and for the second time that day, Erik felt everything in his chest tighten.

...He should tell him.

He should tell him.

He should tell him because it was getting harder and harder to ignore, and he had almost given in again when he hugged El in that tunnel.

Sometimes it felt like all he was doing was wasting time, like he had wasted too much of it already.

He should tell him.

He should tell him because Eleven didn’t know, because the Luminary had pushed him out of the way instead of saving himself. He had put himself at risk, just like he always did, and he had no idea just how much Erik hated it, how much they all hated it—the guilt and the fear and the almost crippling loss.

Eleven is important.

He’s important, and he doesn’t seem to get that, and he has no real clue just how important he actually is—not to Yggdrasil, not to the world, not to the people of Erdrea, but to Erik.

Just the thought of him dying...

It was too much.

El would surely take most of Erik with him if he were to ever leave.

...He should tell him.

“Erik?”

Startled, he snapped his head up and looked over to Eleven, who was sitting half turned around in his chair, staring at him. The Luminary’s brow was furrowed, and there was a good deal of worry in his eyes, and Erik had no idea what he looked like right now, but given the frantic nature of his thoughts, it probably wasn’t good.

He probably looked just as worn out as he felt.

“Is something wrong?” Eleven asked, with concern heavy in his voice and unease written into the lines on his face, and he looked so much like he wanted to help, like he would listen all night to whatever Erik had to say if there was something bothering him, and...and...

And he could’ve lost him, lost this, and it was all just too much.

He should tell him.

He should tell him.

“I...”

He should tell him...and yet...

And yet...

“It’s nothing.”

...He can’t.

He just can’t.

Because as much as he tries to pretend otherwise, there’s a part of him that’s always been afraid of risking too much.

He had given all of his faith to Eleven...and that meant that he hadn’t kept any of it for himself.

He had never really had much to begin with anyway.

The moment those two words left his lips, something fell in the Luminary’s expression, and El gave him a look that implied that he knew the thief was lying, that it very much wasn’t “nothing,” but unlike Erik, the Luminary chose not to call him on it. Instead he gave a soft “okay” before turning around and going back to his writing.

Erik tried to ignore the flash of disappointment that he had seen in those bright blue eyes and the way it almost looked like El was hunching in on himself as he sat there, the slope of his shoulders defeated. It hurt, and he knew that he wasn’t being fair. After all the times that Erik had forced him to say what he was thinking, to open up even just a little bit about what was on his mind, the moment his friend tried to do the same for him, to give a little of that consideration back, he had shot him down.

It wasn’t fair. He owed him something, at least—a piece of himself in return after how much Eleven had given him.

He had been planning on waiting until later, but there was no reason he couldn’t say it now.

“When...” he began hesitantly, and he watched as the Luminary froze before turning around once again to face him, surprised. “When we get to Sniflheim, there’s...there’s something I need to tell you.”

He bit his lip and looked away, though he continued to watch Eleven from the corner of his eye.

“There’s also a favor that I need to ask you.”

There. He had said it.

It was out there, and that meant there was no going back, which was fine, because he had wanted to tell his friend the truth anyway, but still...

After running away for five years, he had known that it wouldn’t be easy. He could only hope that when the time finally came, he’d be able to say everything that he needed to say.

In all honesty, Erik didn’t really know what he was expecting to see on his friend’s face—curiosity, suspicion, confusion, apprehension—but it didn’t take long for his surprise to wash away, only to be replaced with something that felt like it shouldn’t be there.

Understanding.

“Of course,” El said warmly, his lips curving upwards into a soft smile, and underneath the understanding in his eyes was that familiar, innate kindness, that precious light that was so integral to who he was, that drove everything he did, that made him him. “You know you can tell me anything. I’ll always listen. And whatever it is you need to ask me, I promise to do everything I can to help.”

...He was almost starting to get used to that feeling of something twisting painfully in his chest.

There were times where it felt like Eleven was too kind and too bright for the world, and that Erik was an idiot for thinking that he could ever have him.

He fought the urge to sigh and just throw himself face down on the bed.

He really needed to sleep.

He needed to sleep so that everything wasn’t so close to the surface anymore. He tended to make poor decisions when he was tired, and after everything that had happened, he didn’t want to risk saying or doing something that he would regret, especially with how maudlin of a mood he seemed to be in.

Like telling Eleven that he wanted to live together in Cobblestone.

Or hugging him again, because he might not be willing to let go this time.

...He really needed to sleep.

Some of his exhaustion must’ve shown on his face, because he saw El’s brow furrow for a moment before the Luminary turned around, neatly stacked all of his papers, picked up both them and his pencil, and then got up from the desk. He then proceeded to shove everything in his bag before going around the room to blow out all of the lanterns save the small one on the nightstand (they still needed some light, after all).

“We should probably go to sleep,” Eleven said as he made his way over to his bed and began to pull the covers down. “We have a lot of errands to run tomorrow. I’d also rather not be half asleep when we talk to Grand Master Pang...”

Erik got up and began to unmake his bed as well, and despite being tired, he couldn’t help that small touch of amusement at his partner’s last comment.

“I’m pretty sure she’s not actually as terrifying as Rab keeps making her out to be,” he said, earning him a slightly despairing look from his friend.

He almost wanted to laugh at that.

“...She might be,” the Luminary said with a sigh before crawling into bed and burrowing under the covers. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

He smiled down at the lump of bedding before blowing out the final candle, casting the room into darkness.

He was still worried about what he might see when he closed his eyes, worried that he might end up back in that cavern with his hands buried in the sand and a crippling loss in his chest.

However...

“Goodnight, Erik.”

El was right here.

He was right here, and as long as Erik remembered that, he would be able to sleep.

“Goodnight, El.”

Because after all, he had never really been the type to be afraid of the dark.

Chapter Text

Chapter 20: An Impromptu Lesson

“Ah, this auld place hasn’t changed a bit.”

Eleven couldn’t help but agree as he looked up at the towering temple that was Angri-La. It looked exactly the same as he remembered, which in this case was a good thing, since the temple had been spared from destruction in the future. It was a relief to see that despite the Dark’s One’s growing influence, the holy mountain remained intact.

“It is an impressive sight,” said Hendrik as he stared up at the building, though it wasn’t long before his brow furrowed and a look of contemplation crossed his face. “It is most curious though. It is my first time here, and yet it feels strangely familiar...”

Eleven tried very hard not to react to that statement. A part of him had been expecting it, for the knight to possibly experience that odd sense of déjà vu while they were here. Thankfully no one else had been with them at the time, so Hendrik was the only one he really needed to worry about. However, the random moments where the memories from the future bled through were really starting to bother him. So far all it seemed to be was a sense of familiarity, the feeling of having done or seen something before. There was nothing concrete, nothing fully real, and as long as it stayed that way, then he didn’t need to worry about it.

Of course, telling himself that never seemed to help any. It certainly didn’t stop the spike of panic that shot through him every single time one of them said something.

One day he would get used to it. Eventually.

Hopefully.

“Lord Robert,” began Hendrik, and Eleven tried to focus on the conversation at hand instead of his mounting anxiety (he was maybe still a little bit scared of seeing Grand Master Pang), “you said that this place has ties to Dundrasil and to the Luminary?”

“Aye,” his grandfather said as he gazed up at the temple. “Angri-La and Dundrasil have shared close relations ever since the kingdom was founded. For centuries, every prince of Dundrasil has been sent here to train for six years of their youth. It’s also true that Erdwin himself trained under Grand Master Ai Yi before doing battle with the Dark One.”

He turned and looked up at Eleven, and the Luminary watched as something a bit wistful but also a bit wry crossed his face.

“If things had been different, ye would’ve spent a good part of yer childhood here, just as I did. Grand Master Pang’s a tough teacher, but I think she would’ve liked ye. Ye’re not exactly the type to doze off during training. Ye probably wouldnae have been smacked even half as much as I was...”

He tried not to laugh at that. In the future, he had heard a great many tales about his grandfather’s time in Angril-La, and he had even gotten to witness the interactions between him and Grand Master Pang in person. The High Lama had also had some rather interesting stories to tell, since apparently the story of Rab’s training had been passed down as both an amusing tale and a warning to all young monks about the dangers of not staying focused.

Eleven definitely wouldn’t have been smacked as many times as his grandfather, that part was true...but he felt the need to correct him on just one thing.

“Well,” he began as he reached up to rub the back of his neck a bit sheepishly, “I’m not entirely sure about all that. I wasn’t exactly the most...well-behaved child.”

Seven sets of eyes turned to him, almost identical in their shock.

“Really?” asked Veronica, the skepticism heavy in her voice. “You? Not well-behaved? I find that hard to believe.”

“I as well,” agreed Hendrik. “You seem the type to have been a very obedient child.”

“I was obedient,” he replied. “...Kind of. Most of the time. I liked to play pranks though. I’d write things on the village message board, or hide frogs in the item shop where I knew the old shopkeeper would find them. She hated frogs. My mum scolded me a lot for that one.”

He heard a muffled snort of laughter come from both Veronica and Erik, and he could see Sylvando smiling widely and Jade doing her best not to find it amusing. He had never really told any of them about his childhood, about growing up in Cobblestone. They knew a few things, like how he and Gemma have been best friends their whole lives, how he used to spend a lot of time fishing with his grandad before he passed away, and while Erik knew a couple of amusing stories thanks to those early days of traveling together, none of them really knew what he had been like when he was younger.

Grand Master Pang would’ve definitely smacked him (still not as many times as his grandfather though).

“Who would’ve thought that our little El was such a troublemaker,” said Sylvando with a good deal of laughter in his voice and fondness in his eyes. “You really are full of surprises, darling.”

“I’d like to think I’ve grown up a lot,” he said with a smile. “But I guess we’ll see what the Grand Master thinks of me.”

The last memory he had of the woman was bittersweet, was of a soft, warm, and undeniably proud smile that eventually faded away into the light.

He wasn’t sure if she would be proud of him this time, but he certainly hoped so. She had been harsh and blunt, had handed out insults much more regularly than praise, but there had been a deep kindness to her, a desire to protect, to make sure that both he and his grandfather lived. She had given up her body to save Angri-La and then sacrificed her life to save him. She took her role as Grand Master very seriously and cared a great deal more about her pupils than she would ever probably admit.

He could remember thinking just how unfair it was that he hadn’t been able to talk to her more, to train under her properly, and while he would never be able to get that time back, he could make up for it a little bit now.

...She still scared him though.

“Let’s get a move on, you lot,” said Rab as he began heading for the temple. “We don’t want to keep the Grand Master waiting.”

Eleven wanted to point out that it was impossible to keep someone waiting who didn’t even know they were coming...except apparently Grand Master Pang had known they were coming. The greeting they all received by the two monks standing at the entrance implied that she was expecting them, that as soon as the dark star had risen in the sky, she had been anticipating a visit from the Luminary.

That she would choose to gather everyone at the Field of Discipline today in order to receive him... Maybe she had the gift of foresight too, a second sight like Queen Marina? How else could she have possibly known that they were coming?

She clearly wasn’t an ordinary human. From the moment they met, he had known that there was something different about her, especially since his grandfather had trained under her in his youth, which meant that despite looking young, she was older than him. Just how long had she lived for? How great must her spiritual and magical prowess be to retain her youthful appearance despite her age?

He got the feeling that he probably shouldn’t ask. She would definitely smack him for it.

Here’s hoping that meeting her in person would be a little less intimidating than in the void.

...It wasn’t.

It absolutely wasn’t.

Did he say “less” intimidating? Make that more intimidating. Master Pang truly was a force to be reckoned with. The formal, polite air that she put on as they entered only lasted until the pleasantries were out of the way, in which she immediately reverted to the no-nonsense, sharp-tongued woman that he remembered.

He was pretty sure they had all cringed at Rab’s very loud yelp as he was struck with the Naughty Stick.

Some things just never changed.

After his grandfather recovered, Pang’s sharp eyes swept over the man before turning to Eleven.

“You two,” she said, pointing to them both and then motioning for them to follow her. “Come with me. There is something I wish to discuss.”

...Oh no.

He had a feeling he knew what this would be about.

As the Grand Master led the two of them over to the side of the field, he could hear his friends conversing about what had just transpired, and he unfortunately happened to overhear Veronica talking about the Naughty Stick.

“I’m so jealous of that stick Grand Master Pang’s got for whacking people! I wonder if she has a spare...”

...No.

Just no.

That was the last thing their fiery mage needed. She did enough damage already with just her words and her wand. Allowing her yer another means by which to reprimand people would just be asking for trouble.

The voices behind him began to fade into the background as Pang pulled them off to a secluded corner, far away from where many of the monks had begun training. She then spun on her heel, and with her hands on her hips, she fixed the two of them with a very sharp but also somewhat curious gaze.

“I’ll cut straight to the point,” she said. “There were a few ancient techniques that I wished to teach you, to better aid you on your quest. However...”

Those piercing blue eyes narrowed.

“It seems that somehow the two of you already know two of our greatest secrets—abilities that were developed by Erdwin and Morcant themselves during the Age of Heroes. They are not the kind of techniques that one merely stumbles upon, and so I would very much like to know how you came to possess that knowledge.”

Eleven swallowed hard and did his best not to devolve into a mass of anxiety.

He had known that it would be coming, of course, he just...hadn’t really expected it to happen like this, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it was about them that had given it away.

Maybe the memories had bled through. After all, it had already happened once during their initial greeting, where she had told him that it felt as if they had met somewhere before, so there was no reason that it couldn’t happen again. However, if that wasn’t the reason, then he was really starting to lean towards that second sight idea.

Regardless of how she had figured it out though, Eleven had no idea what to tell her. He couldn’t exactly go with the truth. The only story he had was the one he had given his friends. Maybe that would be enough? While it wasn’t true for him, it actually was true for Rab, so it wasn’t really a lie, merely a technicality.

He still intended to remain quiet for now though and allow his grandfather, who seemed rather surprised by the Grand Master’s revelation, to do most of the talking.

“Abilities that—are ye sure?” Rab asked with a good deal of shock, which was understandable. “But we haven’t even shown ye anything yet! How can ye tell?”

“I simply can,” she stated, which didn’t answer any of Eleven’s questions at all, but he wasn’t daring enough to request that she elaborate. Perhaps it wasn’t really all that surprising. When they met in the void, she had already known who he was, had been able to discern his identity on some instinctual level. Maybe this had been instinctual as well. After all, in the future the High Lama had said something about sensing a great power within him. The monks of Angri-La were very in tune with the spiritual world, and as the Grand Master, it made sense that Pang would be the most capable of them all. It was entirely possible that she could somehow feel it in them, in their energies or their spiritual presence or something.

He prayed that there was nothing in him that would give away the fact that he had traveled through time. That was the absolute last thing he needed.

“Now, I would like an explanation,” Master Pang told them. “Both Pearly Gates and Quadraslash are secret techniques that have been passed down in Angri-La for almost a millennium. There is no other means by which to learn them, so how is it that the two of you know something you shouldn’t?”

Understanding dawned on Rab’s face, and Eleven was immediately thankful when his grandfather chose to handle the explanation.

“Well, ye see, it was the strangest thing,” he began. “A while ago, we went to see these beings called the Watchers in order to learn more about the Dark One, and while we were visiting their temple, the elder up there said something about awakening our power. He used some sort of magic on us, and just like that, we suddenly knew all these spells and abilities we’d never used before. Pearly Gates was one of them, and Eleven said that was how he learned Quadraslash too.”

The Grand Master turned to look at the Luminary, and he tried very, very hard not to let his nervousness show. Rab had done a good job explaining, and he needed to not ruin it.

“Watchers, you say?” she asked. “I suppose I have heard that term before, in some of Ai Yi’s old notes from the Age of Heroes. Ancient beings that have been around since the dawn of time, supposedly. I guess I can’t be too surprised that they would have a way to circumvent the need for actual training.”

...Something told him that she was maybe a little bit disappointed that she wouldn’t be able to teach those techniques to them herself. It was possible that she had been looking forward to imparting that knowledge onto them.

He kind of felt bad about it.

“Tell me, have the two of you tried combining them yet?”

He shared a quick look with his grandfather.

The answer to that was no. Kind of.

Not this time around, at least.

“Not yet,” Rab told her. “I’m pretty sure we both know how to, we just havenae had the chance to try it yet.”

A wry grin split her face, and he got the feeling he knew where this was going.

“Well, there’s no time like the present,” she said. “Let’s see just how well the two of you do under pressure.”

Once again she motioned for them to follow her and began to lead them across the field, barking out a quick order to “clear the area” to all the monks who were standing around training, as well as the members of his party who had been conversing with the High Lama and a few other disciples. Everyone heeded the command flawlessly (they clearly new better than to get in her way), and as soon as the three of them made it to the middle of the stone field, she stopped and turned to face them.

“I am going to summon a monster,” she stated. “And the two of you are going to defeat it with Solar Flair. Prove to me that the knowledge you gained has not been wasted.”

“Aye, Grand Master Pang,” said Rab as he turned to look at Eleven. There was resolve there, as well as a need to prove himself to someone that he had always looked up to, and the Luminary would be lying if he said that a similar feeling wasn’t welling up in him. “We won’t let you down. Right, laddie?”

“Right,” he agreed, because this had been the final thing she had taught them, her parting gift before Mordegon had forced his way into her small corner of the void in order to stop her for good. Even though that didn’t happen this time, he still wanted to show her that her faith in them hadn’t been misplaced. He had stopped Mordegon and restored Yggdrasil, and this time around he had even saved her too. He wasn’t going to let everything end again. The time she had spent with him—those few precious moments hadn’t been in vain. He had been made all the stronger for it.

“Then let’s get started, shall we?”

The Grand Master closed her eyes in concentration, and Eleven watched as her hands became enveloped in a soft blue light. She turned around and extended them out before throwing both of her arms up into the air. He turned his gaze skyward and watched as a large shape began to materialize above them, and it didn’t take long for him to recognize the creature.

A boreal serpent.

That made sense. There were quite a few of them in the skies surrounding Angri-La.

Honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure how monster summoning worked. When Drustan had summoned that thing that had looked like Tyriant, he hadn’t so much as “summoned” it as he had “manifested” it. The dual-wielding skeleton had been a fabrication, formed out of whatever weird magic it was that the ancient warrior had plus the memories that existed within Eleven. He got the feeling that this, however, wasn’t quite like that. Master Pang probably wasn’t creating the dragon. More than likely she was pulling it from somewhere and bringing it to the Field of Discipline through whatever spell she was using.

Monster summoning had to be exceptionally useful when it came to training. He wondered if that was another technique passed down through Angri-La. Maybe one day he would ask her. While they didn’t really have time now to chat, he definitely wanted to come back, both to train and to just sit down with the Grand Master and High Lama for a nice long talk. They likely had all sorts of fascinating stories to tell, plus he simply wanted to learn more about his history, his heritage, the relationship between Dundrasil and Angri-La. He wanted to hear more about his grandfather’s time at the temple, about the princes who had come before him. He knew that Rab was the youngest of three brothers, and so he was curious if their time spent training was just interesting, or if Rab was truly the only outlier.

He wanted to ask her how she became the Grand Master, what all she had inherited after assuming that title, if perhaps part of the magic was that time stopped for whoever took on the role until they finally passed it on to someone new.

Again, he kind of felt like he would probably get smacked for asking her how old she was. Curiosity was a dangerous thing though. It might be worth the risk...

The boreal serpent let out a mighty roar as Pang lowered her arms and turned to them.

“Now, show me that the two of you are capable of using those ancient techniques to their fullest. Do not disappoint met.”

They both nodded, determined, and turned their attention to the dragon, who had thankfully noticed them and was slowly descending. It would’ve been bad if it had decided to just attack the temple or something, although he got the feeling that Angri-La had a lot of magical defenses when it came to monsters. The Grand Master had been able to cast a protective mandala in the future that had shielded the temple from the devastation of Yggdrasil falling, leaving it completely unscathed. It made sense that they would probably have some kind of protective charm in place if monster fighting was one of their training regimes.

He watched as his grandfather went through the motions required for Pearly Gates, gathering a ball of brilliant white light between his hands. He then launched it skyward where it exploded into a massive cross. The boreal serpent stopped its descent and simply stared at the blinding light, and while it was distracted, Eleven gathered his own power and concentrated on condensing it into his right hand. All things considered, he had picked the technique up very quickly, and he wondered if being the Luminary had anything to do with it. Considering that Erdwin was the only other person to ever use it, that theory was certainly plausible. In general, the energy it required felt a lot like a mixture of his magic and the light that existed within him. Perhaps that was why no one else had been able to master it.

...Maybe someday he would be able to create his own ultimate technique and have it passed down through the generations. Maybe something he had done would one day help a future Luminary if Erdrea ever found itself facing a crisis once again.

It was an interesting thought. Maybe he would talk to Master Pang about it once everything was over. While he didn’t plan on spending six years at the temple, he certainly wouldn’t mind a few weeks or even a couple months.

He would think on it more later. Right now he had a task to finish.

He extended his arm and aimed his palm right at the center of Pearly Gates before pushing all of his gathered energy forward and releasing Quadraslash. A massive blade of pure golden light shot upwards towards the dragon, and as their two abilities combined into a devastating swirl of raw power, the ancient technique known as Solar Flair flew through the air and pierced the boreal serpent.

Everyone on the field looked away as a huge explosion erupted in the sky, the light almost blinding in its intensity, and when it finally faded and they all opened their eyes, the dragon was gone.

They had done it, and while it technically wasn’t the first time, all things considered, it still felt like an accomplishment.

He heard some clapping, as well as some impressed chattering amongst the disciples and his friends, but the opinion that mattered the most to both him and his grandfather was that of the woman standing before them.

Grand Master Pang propped her hands on her hips, tilted her head to the side...and gave them both a pleased smile.

“For your first time using it, I had my doubts,” she began, “but the two of you actually managed to pull it off. Most impressive.”

Coming from someone who was more likely to hand out harsh criticism than praise, those words meant a lot, and he watched as his grandfather leapt into the air with an excited whoop.

“Hoo hoo! Did you hear that, laddie? She actually paid us a compliment! Ah, I never thought I’d live to hear it!”

Pang sighed in exasperation, shaking her head, but if Eleven didn’t know any better, he would say that the look on her face as she regarded them both was just a touch fond.

“Now,” she began, “how about we truly get down to business? I would like to know what your plans are. Clearly you must have come here with some goal in mind.”

She really wasn’t one for mincing words or beating around the bush. In this case he could definitely appreciate that. They were on a bit of a tight schedule, after all. With the way things stood, if they set out for Sniflheim today, they would arrive in about a week. Then he could quickly zoom back to Hotto, pick up his new sword, zoom back, and start making progress on the many, many things he needed to do while in Sniflheim.

The list was long, and if past experience was anything to go by, he would likely be adding to it.

“We did,” said Eleven. “I’m afraid we can’t stay right now, but I at least wanted to drop in while we were here. I plan to come back once we’re done with everything we have to do in Sniflheim. We’re currently looking for something called lumen essence, and we’re hoping that the Royal Library might be able to tell us where we can find it.”

“Lumen essence?” she asked curiously.

“Have ye heard of it, Master Pang?” asked Rab. “It’s supposed to be this sort of magical extract that can purify glass and crystal. We need it to save a boy who’s been turned into a dragon.”

She simply looked at the two of them for a moment before a flash of sympathy crossed her face.

“Sadly, I have not. While Angri-La has many ties to both spiritual and magical energies, we are not mages in the truest sense. You would likely have better luck asking a mage who has studied ancient magic.”

He wasn’t really disappointed. He had known it would be a long shot.

“So I guess Sniflheim really is our best bet then,” said Rab. “I suppose we had best get going.”

His grandfather put his hands together and offered his old mentor a respectful bow.

“Thank you for everything, Grand Master Pang,” he said. “I promise we’ll be back.”

Eleven looked to Rab, then to the Grand Master, and then decided that maybe he had better bow too. He put his hands together and lowered his head...and almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand gently descend onto it. He didn’t dare try to raise it and instead simply looked up from the corner of his eye, only to see a contemplative but also somewhat warm look upon Master Pang’s face.

In the future, his grandfather had told him after they left the temple that he was pretty sure the Grand Master had a soft spot for Eleven, that despite how short their interaction had been, she had genuinely seemed impressed with him. Personally he felt like she had a soft spot for her former pupil too, but he was pretty sure she would deny it if ever asked (their relationship was an interesting one to say the least).

With the way she was looking at him now, he couldn’t help but feel like maybe his grandfather had been right.

“I know the task before you is a daunting one,” she said, her voice pitched a little softer than what he had become used to. “When you are ready, return here, and we will ensure that you are strong enough to face whatever lies before you. Though Dundrasil may have fallen, the ancient agreement still stands. Know that you will always be welcome here in Angri-La, Honored Luminary.”

He saw the corner of her mouth twitch upwards in amusement as she uttered his title, and he got the feeling that somehow she knew just how much putting “honored” in front of it bothered him. Still though, as her hand fell away and he raised his head, he couldn’t help but return her smile.

“We’ll return,” he said as a gentle warmth began to spread through his chest. There were so many people supporting him, so many willing to help him. He had started this journey alone, and he had ended up alone once more after Yggdrasil had fallen, but even when things were at their darkest, there had still been people willing to stand with him, to aid him, even at great cost to themselves.

He truly was blessed, and despite all the hardship and tragedy that had followed him, he wouldn’t trade the life he had found for anything.

“I promise.”

There was something to be said about just how nostalgic the sea air was, how the rushing of water and the gentle rocking of their ship could take him back to a place that was familiar, even if it wasn’t necessarily comforting. His memories were like that sometimes—a mess of emotions that he didn’t know how to sort out and wasn’t even sure if he really wanted to. It’s not like there would be much point in trying anyway...

Erik heaved a deep sigh as he stared down at the water below him, at the waves that were gently lapping at the side of the Salty Stallion as it cut a clean path across the ocean. Being out at sea always seemed to put him in a weird mood. It reminded him a lot of his childhood, which hadn’t exactly been “happy” by any means, and yet looking at the clear blue water and feeling the cool breeze against his face made a lot of the more painful memories just disappear.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t like sailing, despite everything that was associated with it.

Maybe if he and Mia had actually been born as Vikings, things would’ve been different. Maybe instead of being treated like slaves, they would’ve been raised as equals. Perhaps then he could’ve made some better memories of the time he had spent in Sniflheim.

Of course, there was no point in dwelling on it, no point in thinking about theoretical “what-ifs.” Sure, he hadn’t been happy with his lot in life while growing up, but he was happy now, and that was all that mattered. He wouldn’t trade the life he had found for anything, and as soon as they got to Sniflheim, he would finally be able to fix the only real regret he had, his single greatest mistake.

He would finally find atonement.

...Hopefully Mia would be okay. Hopefully being turned to gold hadn’t taken too great a toll on her.

He wasn’t sure if he could live with himself if he managed to free her from the curse only to lose her anyway.

His little sister had to be okay, although it was entirely possible that she would need to rest a while in order to recover, considering just how long she had been trapped, and if that was the case, then he would take her back to Sniflheim and find someplace safe where she could sleep. The church was a good bet. They generally helped people, and the priest there had always had a soft spot for both him and Mia. He would probably agree to take her in while Erik was off helping Eleven save the world.

The thief closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the familiar, salty sea air settle some of his nerves.

In just a few days, he was going to have to tell his friends the truth. It was only fair, really. After all, he knew a good deal about their lives, but they actually knew very little about his. He simply hadn’t bothered to talk about himself much, and after hiding for so long, he had gotten very good at avoiding questions. In the end, all he had really given them were just a few small details here and there.

They knew about some of his adventures with Derk and about how he had spent months in prison before meeting Eleven. They knew how he had grown up in a colder environment and therefore didn’t like the heat, and they knew that he felt pretty at home on the Salty Stallion because he had spent a lot of time on ships when he was younger, but apart from that, he had never really given them anything concrete, no actual memories or anecdotes from his past.

They knew the bare minimum and nothing else.

That was going to have to change, and he knew it was going to have to change, and he also knew that it would be better if he just told them all himself before they entered the city, because while he had waited by the docks the last time they were there, he wasn’t going to be able to get away with that this time. They had a lot of business to take care of, and he didn’t want to complicate things just because he was afraid of having the Sniflheimers recognize him (and they definitely would. Everyone in Sniflheim had known him and Mia, for one reason or another). He would rather his friends hear the truth directly from him instead of some stranger.

But where was he even supposed to start?

And did he actually want to tell all of them everything?

He knew he wanted to tell Eleven everything. He also knew that he didn’t want to tell his story multiple times, so it would probably be better if he just gathered them all together and told it to them once.

...Maybe he would just stick to the important things. After all, it’s not like he planned on telling them about every little thing he had ever done. Some of his memories were too painful, and others would just make him mad, so it was probably best if he left that kind of stuff out.

He would tell them that he and Mia were orphans, that they had been taken in by the Vikings, that they had been forced to work for them in exchange for a place to live and little else.

He would tell them about giving his sister a gift that could turn anything she touched to gold, a cursed relic that had eventually turned its powers on her instead...and he would tell them about being unable to save the only family he had, about being too afraid to grab her hand as the curse claimed her, turning her entirely to gold.

His greatest failure and his biggest regret was not taking her hand. Maybe he would’ve just been turned to gold too, or maybe he could’ve saved her, but the point was that he didn’t know because he hadn’t tried. She had reached for him in desperation, but he had been too afraid to cover the few remaining feet between them, too afraid of the curse claiming his life too.

He was her brother.

He was her brother, and she had been scared.

Mia was his little sister, and he was supposed to protect her, but...

But in the end, he had done nothing.

In the end, he hadn’t had the courage to take that final step.

Apparently that was a theme with him.

He heaved another sigh as he draped himself on top of the railing, one arm cushioning his head while the other hung over the side.

Great. Just great.

They hadn’t even been sailing for a full day yet and he was already beating himself up. He knew this wouldn’t be easy, but he hadn’t really expected it to be this complicated either

He would probably only grow more anxious the closer they got to Sniflheim.

Perhaps it would be better if he told them before they reached the port. Maybe if he just got it over and done with, he could enjoy at least part of their voyage with some semblance of peace. He knew that getting it off his chest would be a relief, but that didn’t make the idea of saying all of it any less daunting.

...Maybe he would just tell Eleven first. Not all of it, but at least about Mia, about the favor he needed to ask of him. That would probably be simpler. El was easy to talk to after all, and he knew that no matter what he told the Luminary, his partner wouldn’t judge him for it. That was simply the way he was.

That could work. It was better than some of his other ideas anyway. Now all he needed to do was work up the courage to actually talk to him about it. Starting was always the hardest part.

Maybe he could—

“Hello, Erik.”

Startled, he jumped up from his slouched position and turned to the side, only to come face to face with Serena (and while she wasn’t the last person he had expected to see on deck, she was definitely up there).

The healer was smiling at him in that polite, gentle way of hers, simply standing there next to him with a paper bag held securely in her arms.

“Hey, Serena,” he greeted—and then immediately began glancing around for her much less polite counterpart. They were rarely apart, after all, and yet it seemed that no matter how hard he looked, there was no sign of the fiery little mage anywhere. “What? No Veronica?”

“She’s busy reading right now,” Serena told him. “Since we’ll be sailing for a while, this is the perfect opportunity for her to read that book she borrowed. And of course the sooner she finishes it, the sooner she can lend it to you.”

The healer leaned in a little closer to him and pitched her voice softer as if she were sharing some great secret.

“I don’t think she would ever admit it, but Veronica was actually rather happy when you said that you wanted to read that book. I think she really wants someone to be able to discuss it with.”

Erik blinked at the healer in confusion. “Happy” was definitely not the word he would’ve used to describe the way she had insulted him by insinuating that he wasn’t smart enough to read a history book. Serena had clearly heard something very different during that interaction than he had.

“Well, she certainly has a funny way of showing it,” he muttered as he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Honestly, why couldn’t Veronica just say what she actually meant for a change? She had no problem chewing them all out whenever she thought that one of them was being ridiculous or just an idiot, and yet other times she hid how she actually felt behind biting wit and sarcasm. She was a strange combination of brutally honest and annoyingly ambiguous. If she really did care about his opinion like Serena was implying, then surely she could stand to be a little nicer to him.

It’s not like it would kill her.

The sound of paper rustling drew him out of his thoughts, and he turned to the healer next to him to see her reaching into the bag she was holding, only to pull out what looked like one of the stuffed pastries that she and Veronica had purchased from Gondolia (this was what happened when Eleven gave them all permission to buy whatever provisions they wanted. Instead of a cargo bay packed with normal, easily preserved food, they ended up with several bags of various desserts). Their resident magical twins both enjoyed sweet things, but Serena in particular had a pretty big weakness when it came to cakes, cookies, and all manner of baked goods. However, despite her sweet tooth, the healer was generally willing to share her snacks, unlike her sister.

That seemed to be what was happening now as she held the pastry out to him.

“Here you go,” she said cheerfully, smiling at him kindly. “I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been looking rather down today, and so I thought that maybe this might cheer you up. I know I always feel better after eating something sweet. Perhaps you will too.”

He simply looked at Serena for a moment, surprised, before looking down at the pastry being offered to him, and as he reached out to take it, something warm settled in his chest. He couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, and he felt just a little bit touched that she had actually noticed his somewhat pensive mood and was trying to help. He had mostly been avoiding everyone, had spent the entirely of the afternoon hiding in his room, but apparently Serena must’ve gotten a good enough look at him at some point to realize that something wasn’t quite right.

And while he had no intention of telling her what was wrong (not yet anyway), he was more than happy to accept her attempt at lifting his spirits.

“Thanks, Serena,” he said as he took a bite of the pastry. While he wasn’t quite as crazy about sweets as some of his companions, they definitely had their place, and he could admit that Gondolia really did have the best desserts.

He would definitely have to take Mia there someday. She would probably want to try some of everything. After all, they hadn’t really been able to have things like cakes and fried dough and cookies. When they were little, some of the people in Sniflheim had given them candy when the Vikings weren’t looking, but those moments had been rare and far between. For the most part, they had had to make do with whatever they could find for themselves, whatever they could hunt or swipe or scrounge up.

Not anymore though. Things would be different this time. He was going to make sure that his little sister never had to go hungry again, that the two of them would never be at the mercy of someone else’s “hospitality” ever again.

No more Vikings, no more Sniflheim, no more being cold and tired and starving.

They would find a new life, a new way to live.

They would find a home.

...Eventually he was going to have to talk to Eleven about it, about building a house for him and Mia in Cobblestone, because if that’s where the Luminary was going to live once all of this was over, then that’s where Erik wanted to be. Sure, he planned to travel, to take his little sister on a tour of the world, but more than anything, he wanted somewhere to come back to, a place that was theirs. The two of them didn’t have much growing up, had only really had each other, but the idea of relying on others was no longer foreign to him, and he knew without a doubt that the people of Cobblestone would welcome them, would treat them both like family. The little village was full of warm, caring people, who despite the injustice that had been visited upon them still remained bright and hopeful and kind.

It would be the perfect place to settle down and build a life.

Unfortunately, he still didn’t know if the exact life he wanted for himself would ever be something that he could have or if it would forever be out of his reach.

...Someday.

Someday he would find the courage to ask, but for now he had too many other things to worry about. He would think about it later.

Erik took another bite of his pastry and gave his attention back to the ocean. He also couldn’t help but notice that Serena was still standing next to him. She had pulled out her own dessert and was joyfully nibbling away at it as she watched the water churn below them, the waves rising and falling as their ship sailed along.

She gave a wistful sigh as her eyes drifted to the horizon, her mouth curving upwards into a serene smile.

“I really do love the sea,” she said. “There’s just something ever so calming about it, and the breeze feels wonderful. I think I would very much like to live in a little cottage next to it someday.”

...A cottage by the sea, huh? He could definitely see Serena settling into a peaceful, quiet life like that, but Veronica not so much. She had too much energy and curiosity, and he had always assumed that she would prefer living in a place like Sniflheim with all its books and scholars and history...if she could handle the cold, that is. She hadn’t been particularly fond of it last time.

It dawned on him that he didn’t actually know what the twins planned on doing after their journey was over. He more or less knew what everyone else’s plans were, but he had never really bothered to ask them. He was suddenly very curious about what they intended to do once their job of protecting the Luminary came to an end.

“I guess I’ve never really asked before,” he began, drawing the healer’s attention, “but what are you and Veronica going to do once this is over? Got any plans?”

She gave a thoughtful hum as her brow furrowed just the slightest bit, and he began to wonder if maybe the two of them hadn’t actually given it that much thought yet.

“Well,” she began with just a little hesitation, “I suppose we’ll head back to Arboria for a while. Father Benedictus will likely want to hear all about our adventure, and we need to make sure that everything that happened gets recorded properly this time. It’s still hard to believe that so much of the story we all grew up on is wrong, but I suppose that whoever came up with it didn’t want people to constantly live in fear of the Dark One returning. Still though, I think this time the truth would be best.

“After that...I guess I’m not really sure. I would really rather like to spend some time with the Watchers, and I know that Veronica wanted to talk to them more as well. I’m sure that there’s so much they would be able to teach us. Perhaps they might even know of a way to restore Veronica to her proper age.”

Now there was a thought. Honestly, sometimes he forgot that Veronica wasn’t supposed to look the way she did, that she was technically meant to be the same height as Serena. If she did ever manage to return to her actual age, it would definitely take him a while to get used to it.

“Other than that though...hmm...” she continued, and he got the feeling that she probably would’ve been tapping her chin in thought if not for the fact that she was still holding a pastry. “...Well, I personally think that it might be nice for the two of us to go on another journey together. I know that this quest has taken us all across Erdrea already, but there were so many places that I would have loved to spend more time in. I would very much like to go out and see the world again without some terrible threat looming over us.”

That wasn’t at all surprising really. It seemed that “traveling” was the conclusion that most of them had come to, a desire to experience what Erdrea had to offer without needing to worry about saving it.

Serena took another bite of her pastry and turned her eyes back to the ocean, and as her gaze trailed towards the setting sun at the water’s edge, Erik was able to recognize the look on her face for what it was. After all, he often looked out at the sea with nostalgia too.

“Veronica and I spent our whole lives in Arboria,” she said softly. “We love our home, of course, but after going on this journey with all of you and watching Eleven do everything he can for the people of Erdrea... I feel as though we should be doing more. The Keepers have always watched over the world from beneath Yggdrasil’s branches, but I want to do more than just watch. That’s why I think the two of us should travel.”

“Have you actually talked about it yet?” he asked, curious, before taking a rather large bite of his pastry.

“Only a little,” she admitted. “We mostly talked about making plans to visit everyone. I know that we all have to go our separate ways once the Dark One is defeated, but that doesn’t mean we have to say goodbye. I for one intend to write to you all regularly, and thanks to Zoom, Veronica and I can check in on everyone whenever we please. Sylvando may be difficult to find from time to time, since he likely will not remain in the same place for very long, but it should be easy enough for us to visit the rest of you.”

...Ever the optimist.

He wanted to point out that that wasn’t entirely true, that he fully intended to spend some time traveling too, but before he could correct her (mainly do to the fact that his mouth was currently full), she turned to him with a bright smile and very, very earnestly said what was quite possibly the last thing he had expected to hear.

“So don’t worry, Erik. We’ll definitely be sure to come and see you and Eleven in Cobblestone.”

He started choking on his pastry.

Serena gave a startled “Oh!” and began to gently pat him on the back as he coughed, and he really wanted to tell her that that wasn’t actually helping him any, but he was too busy trying to breathe around the hunk of fried dough in his throat and the panic that insisted on squeezing his lungs.

...How?

How?

How did she know that?

How could she possibly know that? Erik had never said anything about living in Cobblestone, not to any of them, so how...?

Eventually he managed to clear his throat, swallowing rather harshly and giving a couple more painful coughs before looking at the healer in shock.

“How...w-why did you...?” he began to ask, his voice coming out a little rough after spending a good minute or two coughing, but in the end he thought better of it and decided to change the question. “Why Cobblestone?”

Serena looked completely confused, and that was absolutely unfair given what she had just said to him.

“Well, I...I suppose I just assumed that you would be...” She was starting to sound a little uncertain as Erik continued to stare at her in what probably looked a lot like distress. “You and Eleven are really rather close, and...well...it’s hard for me to picture the two of you ever being apart, so...”

He could feel his face heating up and knew that he was more than likely blushing. He quickly turned away from the healer, and as he once again draped himself on the railing and buried his head in his arms, he was unable to prevent an embarrassed groan from escaping his lips.

“Please stop,” he asked her, just shy of begging.

“I’m...I’m so sorry, Erik. I didn’t mean to...”

She sounded so genuinely remorseful that he immediately started to feel bad about it.

“It’s fine,” he told her, even though it wasn’t. “You don’t have to apologize, I just...”

He heaved a deep sigh and slumped a little further against the side of the ship.

“I just don’t want to talk about it, alright?”

“...Alright.”

He was half expecting her to just walk away from him, for that to be the end of their conversation given how effectively he had shut it down. However, he heard no quiet footfalls or the sound of her bag rustling as she moved.

She wasn’t leaving. Instead she just continued to stand there next to him in silence.

...There was maybe a tiny part of him that was tempted to ask her exactly what she had meant by all that. Was she just assuming that they would want to stay together because they were partners, because El was his best friend? Or maybe because when she and Veronica had first met them, he and Eleven had already been traveling together and therefore the thought of them not being together was strange, similar to how he had just assumed that the two twins would want to remain together as well?

Or had she actually been implying that—

“I think it’s rather sweet though...”

He raised his head and looked up at her in horror.

“Serena,” he hissed in warning, because one, he had very clearly stated that he did not want to talk about it, and two, he was pretty sure that no one, in the entirety of his life, had ever referred to him as “sweet.”

This was so much worse than the conversation he had had with Derk. She had also just unfortunately answered his question. She really had meant her earlier comment exactly as it had sounded.

...Seriously, was he really that obvious? How had she managed to figure it out?

Serena was looking at him with a good deal of disappoint in her eyes. In fact, it almost looked like she was pouting, and he immediately knew that he couldn’t let her leave like that or he would find himself on the end of a very angry tirade, courtesy of their pint-sized spell caster (who thank goodness had not been given a “Naughty Stick” by Grand Master Pang, because her wrath was bad enough the way it was, and she absolutely did not need a more effective tool for smacking people).

Erik took a deep breath, gave an equally deep sigh, and tried his best to calm down before speaking to Serena again. Getting worked up wasn’t going to help any. He needed to try and salvage this conversation to the best of his ability, or he would probably live to regret it.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” he said. “I just...I really don’t want to talk about it right now. I don’t actually know what I’m going to do when this is over, and I haven’t talked to El about it yet either. There’s just...there’s just a lot I need to think about first, alright?”

That seemed to placate her. At the very least, the disappointment was gone, but in its place was something curious, and even though Erik had told her twice now that he didn’t want to talk about this, she apparently just couldn’t seem to help herself.

“Would you like to live in Cobblestone with Eleven?”

He sucked in a sharp breath and tried his best to ignore the way his heart hurt.

Clearly Serena wasn’t going to drop this, and he knew that she was only asking because she cared. It’s not like she was fishing for gossip—she simply wasn’t the type—and so nothing he said to her would probably make it to another’s ears, but at the same time...

Putting it out there would make it real.

He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that.

And yet...

“...Yes.”

He just couldn’t help it.

Sometimes it was hard to ignore the things his heart wanted.

He glanced up at the healer a bit nervously and watched as a soft smile spread across her face.

“Well then,” she began cheerfully, her voice brimming with sincerity, “I’m sure that everything will work out.”

He heaved a sigh and gave his attention back to the ocean, resigning himself to the fact that they were having this conversation and there was apparently very little that he could do about it. He supposed that if he had to talk to someone, Serena was really the best option. She was the least likely to make fun of him or tell him that he was being an idiot.

That blind optimism of hers though was definitely at odds with his more cynical outlook.

“You have a lot more confidence than I do...”

“Well, I read a lot of stories growing up,” she began, as if that explained her sunny, optimistic view of the world, “and no matter how hard things got for the heroes, everything always worked out in the end.”

“I hate to break it to you, but reality isn’t the same as a fairytale, Serena. Things don’t always ‘work out’ just because you want them to.”

“I know.”

Erik looked up at that, because he hadn’t been expecting it. After all, it kind of contradicted what she had just said.

The healer was smiling down at him, patiently and benignly, with a wisdom that felt both beyond her years and yet perfectly at home upon her face.

“That’s why it’s important to always try your best,” she said, her eyes softening as she continued. “When Veronica and I were first studying magic, Father Benedictus told us that nothing worthwhile is ever easy, and therefore you must always give your all for the things that you want. You can’t get discouraged just because something is difficult. I believe he mostly said it for my benefit, since I was a much slower learner than Veronica, but regardless of why he said it, I’ve always tried to keep those words in mind, especially when I start to doubt myself. They’ve served me rather well over the years. Perhaps they might help you too, Erik.”

...Nothing worthwhile is ever easy, huh?

There was a lot of truth in that. For someone who had spent most of his life struggling against the hand that he’d been dealt, he knew a thing or two about striving towards a goal, about not giving up and pursuing the things he wanted with a single-minded dedication. The idea of getting as much out of something as you put into it wasn’t foreign to him, as the most rewarding treasures were always the hardest to get, and as a thief, he had found that the more effort he put into something, the more time he spent planning, then the more satisfying it was when he eventually pulled it off.

Trying his best, giving everything he had to achieve an outcome—it wasn’t new to him, and he was more than familiar with the fact that the big things, the important things, would always require more.

More time, more effort, more patience, more faith...

...But the thing was, the goal he was aiming for, the outcome he wanted to achieve...it wasn’t just his.

He wasn’t the only one involved in this. It wasn’t just himself on the line.

And in the end, no amount of time or effort or patience or faith would make any bit of difference if Eleven didn’t feel the same.

“I’m sure that everything will work out.”

He wanted to believe that. He really did.

Because it was a nice thought.

“...Thanks, Serena.”

And maybe one day it would feel like more than just a fairytale.

Erik looked down at his half-eaten pastry, and then without hesitation, he shoved the rest of it in his mouth.

He wasn’t really sure if he felt any better than he had before, but at the very least he didn’t feel worse, and when Serena graciously offered him another one, he took it without a word.

The smile she gave him was delighted, and as she reached into her bag to grab a dessert for herself, he couldn’t help but return said smile with a small one of his own.

Despite everything he still needed to sort through, a tiny semblance of peace washed over him.

There were definitely worse ways to spend an evening than sharing pastries with a friend.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21: A Fulfilled Prophecy

Eleven stood on the deck of the Salty Stallion and stared up at the overcast sky.

There was snow falling. It had started just a few hours ago. It wasn’t much, and it was melting as soon as it touched the boat, but it was still snowing, and that meant they were getting close to Sniflheim. They would likely arrive either late into the night or early the next morning. Their mostly peaceful boat ride was about to come to an end.

The Luminary took a deep breath and leaned against the railing.

They had been sailing for six days now. Six days of time spent thinking and conversing and planning, working through what they needed to do and what should be tackled first. They needed to talk to Frysabel and Krystalinda, and Snorii was a good idea as well if he was still in the city. It was important to gather as much information as they could, plus Eleven had the unfortunate feeling that something was likely going to be wrong in the kingdom. As much as he wished for it to be otherwise, the Sniflheimers had been pretty unlucky so far, and he wasn’t optimistic enough to believe that they had escaped disaster this time.

Whatever was plaguing them, he would fix it. That was his job after all, and he had been sure to leave plenty of room in his agenda for helping out wherever he was needed—especially since there was one thing in particular he knew he would need to do, that he hadn’t been able to add to his “Sniflheim list” yet because a certain someone, despite being given multiple opportunities over the past week to do so, had yet to say anything to him about it.

Even after six days of sailing, Erik had yet to bring up Mia. Instead he had spent most of their voyage hiding in his room, and whenever someone did happen to mention Sniflheim in his presence, he would simply clam up and refuse to participate in the conversation. It was easy to tell that something was wrong with him, and pretty much everyone had commented on his behavior at some point during the trip, but when Erik had failed to react and had simply brushed off their concern, the six of them had turned to Eleven instead.

Those had been some interesting discussions to say the least, and in their own ways, all of them had implied that he should talk to the thief, that surely Erik would tell him what was wrong if not the rest of them.

But the thing was, Eleven already knew what was wrong. However, he had told himself that he wouldn’t pry, that this time around he would let Erik come to him in his own time and on his own terms, and he fully intended to stick by that. He didn’t want to pressure his friend to talk about something that he knew was painful, that the thief had been carrying with him for years. After all, Eleven knew what it was like to keep secrets, to hold on to regrets, and it wouldn’t be fair of him to try and force Erik to talk when there was so much that he himself was hiding from everyone...but if his partner didn’t say something soon, however, the Luminary wasn’t going to be given much of a choice. It was possible that he might end up having to just ask him outright what was wrong and why he had been avoiding them all lately. Obviously he couldn’t mention Mia of course, but he could at least try to gently steer the conversation in that direction.

Eleven was not good at subtlety. His conversational skills were pretty lacking in that area, and he seriously had doubts about his ability to ask Erik what was wrong without giving too much away. His friend was preceptive, and he didn’t want to risk him somehow finding out that Eleven had already known about what had happened, about the Vikings and Mia and the curse. That would lead to too many unwanted questions, and he was pretty sure that his “I’m the Luminary” excuse would not work in that situation.

In the end, he just needed to be patient.

If he was patient enough, then eventually his friend would talk to him. The thief had already put things in motion during their last night in Hotto, where he had told Eleven that there was a favor he needed to ask of him, and so sooner or later he would bring it up.

Because no matter how worried he might be about telling the truth, about sharing the part of him that hurt, Erik loved his sister more than he feared anyone’s judgment, and so regardless of his reservations, he would definitely ask Eleven to save her. Whether or not he would choose to share the rest of his past was another matter, but the Luminary would be patient in that regard too. He knew that there wasn’t much happy about it, that Erik and Mia had grown up in very different circumstances compared to the rest of them, being raised in an environment devoid of affection, spending most of their days just surviving and yet still making the best out of their less than pleasant situation.

The two of them hadn’t had much growing up, but they’d had each other, and for the two siblings, that had been enough to see them through.

He wanted to help them. He wanted to save Mia.

He prayed that his power would be enough.

Eleven leaned a bit further against the railing and bent down to rest his head on his arms. He closed his eyes and simply listened to the sound of the waves, allowing the gentle lapping of the water to lull him into a state of peace. He liked the Salty Stallion. He would probably miss the ship almost as much as his friends when this was all over. It had become kind of like a second home after all the time they had spent on it. Hopefully Sylvando would let him take a trip on it again someday. Maybe he could even join him on his quest to find performers to fill his theatre with. While Eleven himself had next to no talent when it came to performing, he had still enjoyed his time with the jester’s smile parade in the future. Surely Sylvando wouldn’t mind if he tagged along for a bit this time too.

It was a pleasant thought.

He heard the sound of the cabin door opening, followed by soft footfalls as someone made their way onto the deck. Eleven didn’t bother to raise his head though, perfectly content to stay exactly as he was, just enjoying the sounds of the ocean. If whoever was there wanted to talk to him, then they could just come over and talk to him. It’s not like they needed permission or anything, and it’s not like he was doing something important that they needed to fear interrupting. He had honestly just come outside to get some fresh air, although he was going to have to go back in soon. As much as he liked the snow, it was a little too cold for him to be out in it for too long. They were steadily approaching the temperature that he would no longer be able to handle without medicinal herbs and salves.

He would need to be careful moving forward. Thankfully he had stocked up on everything he needed and had hidden most of it away in his room to avoid being questioned. Taking on the task of buying their non food-related supplies himself and giving everyone else the responsibility of restocking the Salty Stallion had definitely been a good idea (despite the fact that their cargo bay had looked like someone robbed a bakery). That way he had been able to hide just how much medicine he had actually bought.

Now all he needed was a way to disguise using it. That was definitely easier said than done. He was also running out of time to find a solution.

Why couldn’t there be some kind of magical medicine that lasted all day?

Maybe he could ask Krystalinda about it...

He heard the creaking of wood next to him and the sound of someone leaning their weight against the railing.

“You shouldn’t fall asleep out here, you know. You’d probably catch a cold.”

He opened his eyes and smiled up at his best friend.

“I wasn’t trying to fall asleep,” he said. “Although it is very peaceful.”

Erik gave a thoughtful hum and turned his eyes to the ocean. He didn’t seem inclined to say anything else at the moment, and so Eleven went back to what he was doing, closing his eyes once more and listening to the waves. Honestly, if not for the temperature, he wouldn’t mind taking a nap out on the deck. However, he kind of needed to be awake in order to cast Holy Protection, so sleeping wasn’t really an option. He wanted their boat ride to be as peaceful as possible, and that meant keeping as many monsters away as he could. He had been doing a pretty good job of it so far, but as quiet as their ride had been, he knew not to underestimate the monsters in the area.

While they were in Gondolia, he had overheard quite a few tales of merchant and cargo ships going missing, of an increase in monster attacks while out at sea. Most supply ships weren’t fortunate enough to be manned by people who were capable of fighting. Sure, sometimes they would hire one or two guards or mercenaries for protection, and prior to Calasmos that had probably been enough, but things were different now. The waters were dangerous, and long voyages were more likely to be met with disaster.

While their journey had been mild so far in regard to monster attacks, he knew that most weren’t as fortunate and that the only reason their ship wouldn’t sink was because the eight of them (nine if he included Dave) were all extremely capable when it came to fighting. Having a spell like Holy Protection helped of course, but at the same time it wouldn’t have done them much good if they weren’t strong enough to ward off the weaker monsters.

...He really hoped that Sniflheim wasn’t dealing with a food shortage or something, due to so many missing cargo ships. While he could deal with a lot of things and was more than willing to help out with whatever they needed, replacing an entire ship’s worth of food and other supplies was a little beyond him. Not only did he not have the money for it, but he also didn’t have the time to spend weeks upon weeks protecting transports as they sailed across the ocean. Using Zoom to slowly bring in supplies was of course an option, but that would also be extremely time consuming, not to mention exhausting.

If they were dealing with some sort of problem, he kind of hoped it was a monster. No sickness, no plagues, no magical anomalies, no food shortages, just a nice, easily killable monster. That wouldn’t be too much to ask for, right? He had more than enough to deal with once they reached the city. He really needed there to not be some kind of impossible problem to solve.

What he really wanted was for there to be no problem at all.

But the world generally wasn’t that kind.

He heard a sigh come from next to him, and while he didn’t open his eyes, he still turned his attention to the thief at his side.

“Hey, El?”

“Hmm?”

“...There’s...there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Eleven froze for just a moment before opening his eyes. He glanced up at Erik, and while his friend wasn’t looking at him, he could still see the slight furrow to his brow and the cautious, faraway look on his face.

He looked very much like someone who didn’t want to have this conversation but had resigned himself to going through with it anyway.

Eleven stood up a bit more fully, abandoning his comfortable, slouched position as he turned to his partner.

“Okay,” he said, picking his words carefully because he wanted to make sure this came out right. “I know something’s been bothering you lately, so whatever it is, you can tell me. Back in Cobblestone, you said that I could come to you for anything. It goes both ways. You can come to me for anything too.”

That earned him a sideways glance and a small but no less sincere smile, and he wanted to believe that some of the hesitation had disappeared from those sharp blue eyes.

“Thanks, El.”

Erik took a deep breath, followed by an equally deep sigh, and then reached up to rub at the back of his neck nervously.

“I don’t...really know where to start,” he admitted.

“Wherever you want.”

“...Okay, then.” Another deep breath (he was likely going to be taking a lot of those, given the nature of the conversation). “When...when we get to Sniflheim, there’s a place I’d like to go, and I want you all to come with me. It’s a cave just southeast of the city. You can get there by boat from the docks.”

He hunched over a little, his hand tightening around the wooden railing.

“There’s a door there that I’ve been too afraid to open, but I think I’m ready now. I just...”

He turned to Eleven, with hope and wariness and a deep pain written into the lines on his face.

“Before we get there, I want you to promise me something.”

“Okay.”

Another deep breath as his eyes drifted back to the sea.

“On the other side of that door is someone very important to me—more precious than any treasure. I...I want you to swear you’ll do everything you can to save her.”

...There it was, the thing he had been waiting for, the task at the very top of his list of things he needed to fix. Erik had finally brought it up, had finally asked for his help, and while the thief was still being really vague about it, this was an important step.

He knew that a lot of Erik’s hesitation came from fear, from self-blame and regret, that he hated himself for what had happened, for what he believed he did. Even though he hadn’t known that the necklace was cursed, he had still given it to Mia, and in his eyes, that made him guilty and responsible for his sister being turned to gold. There was also probably a good deal of shame associated with the fact that he had left, that he had run away, that he had left her there all alone and trapped for five whole years...but in the future, he had admitted to never having forgotten about her, that the thought of saving her had been the only thing that had kept him going. He had never truly given up on being reunited, on freeing her from the curse, on correcting what he considered to be his greatest mistake.

Erik blamed himself for what happened, but even after learning the truth, Eleven had felt nothing but a deep sympathy and a need to help. The thief was likely worried about how they would all see him, was worried that they would look at him in blame or disgust, would see him as a terrible brother and a terrible person and tell him that he didn’t deserve to be forgiven, and that just...wasn’t true.

He didn’t need to worry about being judged. It hadn’t happened in the future and it wouldn’t happen now. He didn’t need to be afraid.

“I promise I will.”

Eleven would fix this.

He would fix this and give Erik back the family that he had lost. He would help fulfil the last part of the prophecy that Morcant had given him. Just like in the future, his friend would find the redemption he’d been seeking.

Erik gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes before heaving a deep sigh.

“I suppose you probably want an explanation...” he said as he once again rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Only if you’re willing to give one. You don’t have to tell me anything right now if you don’t want to.”

“I want to, it’s just...it’s not a story I’ve ever told anyone before, and there are some parts of it that I’d rather only tell once, so I want to wait until we’re actually on our way over there, but...but you deserve something since I might be asking a lot of you.”

“Erik, really, you don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want to.”

The thief didn’t say anything for a moment, and as the silence began to stretch out between them, he began to wonder if maybe his partner really had decided to not say anything, to save it all for when the eight of them were together. There were a lot of parts to the story that were painful, and so it made sense to not want to tell it more than once, to only relive all of it just the one time, but to his surprise, after taking yet another deep, fortifying breath, Erik began speaking again.

“I think I’d like to tell you some of it at least, just the part that’s important, since I already brought her up.”

Eleven gave his full attention and prepared himself to treat this conversation as if it were all happening for the first time, as if he didn’t already know what Erik was about to tell him.

“...I have a little sister. Her name’s Mia. She’s the one I need you to save.”

“...You have a sister?” He tried really hard to sound surprised and curious, and while the last one was true (he had always wanted to know more about Mia), he hoped that he didn’t come off as too eager.

“Yeah.”

“What...what happened to her?”

“...She was cursed.” Another deep breath. “I... Five years ago, I gave her a necklace for her birthday. There was some myth attached to it that said that whoever wore it would find gold at their fingertips. I thought it was just some old folktale or something, but when she put it on, everything she touched turned to gold.”

He learned over the railing and propped his arms up on it, resting his weight against them as he looked down into the water below.

“I should’ve made her take it off. She started getting really carried away, and by the time I realized just how bad it was getting, it was too late. The necklace wouldn’t come off, and when she tried to remove it, she... The curse took hold of her, and she started turning to gold. I tried to save her, but nothing I did was... She reached for me, but I was too afraid to...”

He shook his head and hunched in on himself a little more.

“In the end, there wasn’t anything I could do. The curse turned her entirely to gold, and...I left. I knew staying would accomplish nothing. There wasn’t anyone I could go to for help, so I decided to find the answers for myself...but in the end, all I really found was what I already knew. I had given my sister a cursed relic. It was all my fault...”

He had never seen his partner look quite so dejected before, and Eleven wanted to reach out, to place a hand on his back or his shoulder, but he wasn’t sure if he should, if the gesture would be welcome or not or if it would even be taken the way he actually meant it. Erik didn’t care for pity, was the type of person to shrug off sympathy and comfort despite regularly offering the latter himself whenever the Luminary got too lost in his own head. He never hesitated to reach out, never gave it a second thought, and yet throughout the course of their friendship, Eleven had very rarely reciprocated. He almost never initiated any kind of physical contact between them that wasn’t necessary, that didn’t involve shoving or pulling his friend out of the way of danger.

He just...wasn’t good at people. He was always too worried about overstepping, about something he did being taken the wrong way.

He loved Erik.

He loved him, and he was terrified of him finding out, and he knew that it was ridiculous to think that the thief would somehow be able to tell just from a hand placed on his back or an arm thrown around his shoulders, but the fear was there nonetheless.

In the end, all he really had were his words, and he wasn’t sure if that was enough.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said softly. “You didn’t know.”

Erik looked very much like he didn’t believe that, like he would probably never believe that no matter how many times Eleven said it, and so he decided to let it go for now. He could work on convincing him later, once Mia was free and the weight resting so heavily on his partner’s shoulders was lifted.

The thief took one last deep breath and finally gave his attention back to the Luminary.

“I...I think that’s enough for now,” he said wearily. “But I promise I’ll tell you everything later, and then you can ask me as many questions as you want.”

“...I’ll hold you to that,” Eleven said with just a hint of a smile, earning him a small one in return.

“Good, because I meant it. I decided a while ago that if no one else, I at least want you to know everything.”

...It was funny how just a handful of words, spoken so honestly and so directly, could suddenly make his chest feel tight, could make it feel like something was squeezing his heart.

Not for the first time, he couldn’t help but wonder exactly how it was that Erik saw him. His friend was forever saying things like that, implying that he was somehow special (he had even flat out told him that he was special when they’d been walking through the Hotto Steppe together, looking for ore)—and even though Eleven was the Luminary and therefore by default was “special,” he got the feeling that that wasn’t quite it.

Why him?

Why him and no one else?

Erik pushed away from the railing and turned his back on the frigid ocean before them.

“I think I’ll head back inside,” he said with forced nonchalance. “I’ll see you at dinner, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And don’t stay out here too long. It’s only going to get colder the closer we get to Sniflheim. Don’t want you catching a cold, alright?”

He couldn’t help but laugh a bit at that as the conversation circled back to where it started.

“I promise I won’t.”

And with that said, the thief took his leave, and Eleven found himself once again standing alone on the deck of the Salty Stallion.

...He really, really hoped that he would be enough. Erik was betting everything on him, was putting all of his faith in Eleven’s ability to save Mia.

He wanted to believe that he could do it, that the light within him, Yggdrasil’s light, would be able to break the curse.

The Seer had promised Erik forgiveness. In some manner, Morcant had been able to see the future, and even though Eleven had changed the original timeline, had stopped the events that had led to Mia’s freedom the first time around, he was holding out hope that the outcome wouldn’t change, that the power he had was more than what Mordegon had been able to offer.

He just needed to have faith.

And tomorrow, he would find out once and for all if that was truly enough.

“Alright you two, where exactly are we going?”

Both Eleven and Erik stopped and turned to look back at the rest of their party.

They had just disembarked at the cave where the Vikings resided, who thankfully all seemed to be out at the moment (more than likely out on a raid, or maybe they had finally gone to rescue that poor man’s brother who had been stranded on an island to the north).

Honestly, Eleven was a little surprised that the question hadn’t come up sooner, as in the moment he had told them all that there was something important they needed to do and had directed the Salty Stallion away from Sniflheim’s port after obtaining his Zoom point.

He wasn’t surprised that Veronica was the one who had asked. She wasn’t really one for beating around the bush.

Eleven shot Erik a look, because while he could answer the question, it wasn’t really his place this time. This was Erik’s story, and however much he did or didn’t want to share was up to him.

He was pretty sure that his friend had already made up his mind though, that he fully intended to tell them all the truth.

“There’s another cave to the north of here,” the thief said, his voice carefully even. “There’s someone there who needs our help.”

That was more than enough to pique everyone’s interest and to quiet any further questions about where they were going or why they were going there...except for of course the obvious one.

“How do you know?” asked Serena gently, curiously, and Eleven watched his friend steel himself before answering.

“Because she’s my sister.”

Erik turned back around and continued walking again, ignoring the looks of surprise being directed at him. Eleven was quick to catch up with him, falling into step beside him once again, and he could hear the rest of their party doing the same, not wanting to be left behind.

He knew there were going to be questions. Erik had never once really talked about himself or his life prior to meeting Derk aside from a few bits and pieces here and there—but before any of them could say anything, before they could even gather their thoughts enough to ask, the thief took a deep breath and began speaking.

In a quiet, even tone, he weaved for them a story about two orphans found freezing in the snow, about the Vikings who had decided to take them in, who had put them both to work the moment they were well enough in order to earn their keep. Cooking, cleaning, taking inventory, polishing weapons, repairing equipment, unloading supply crates—all manner of menial, backbreaking labor, day in and day out, with nothing to really show for it aside from a small cave and a few trinkets, the bare minimum of what was needed to survive. Half the time they had to find their own meals, their own clothes, their own warmth. Sometimes Erik would swipe a few things for himself during a raid, or a couple coins from the coffers, just enough to buy food for a few days so that they wouldn’t starve.

They had been poor and cold and hungry, had spent most of their days just surviving and dreaming of a different life, but the two of them had had each other, and not everything about their lives had been terrible. The Vikings had treated them like slaves, but the people of Sniflheim had always been kind, had offered them candy and warm blankets when they were younger, had given them medicine and some provisions when they were older. They had been wary of the Vikings, but they had always looked at the two children with warmth, had thanked them whenever they made deliveries and had even paid them occasionally for their trouble.

Erik made it a point to stress that even though they hadn’t had much, the two of them had been fine. Even though their childhood hadn’t been “happy” by any extent, they had made do with what they were given and had found a way to live with their circumstances despite wishing that things could’ve been different.

He didn’t want pity. He just wanted all of them to understand.

And when he got to the most painful part, when he told them about the gift he had given his sister, the cursed relic that had turned her entirely to gold, he ended up pausing several times before he was able to get the full story out. However, unlike when he had told it to Eleven, he kept some of his thoughts to himself. He didn’t claim that it was all his fault, even though the Luminary was certain that he still felt that way. He got the feeling that Erik was probably just trying to avoid the onslaught of being told that it wasn’t, because most if not all of their party would absolutely disagree with him about being responsible for what had happened.

It was fine. Erik would find forgiveness, and then one day he would finally be able to forgive himself.

His story lasted them the entirety of their trek through the Viking hideout, and then across the snowy plain towards an innocent wooden door that had managed to survive the harsh elements of the frozen region.

The thief stopped upon reaching it and placed his hand gently against it.

“It took me a really long time to finally figure out what I needed to do,” he said. “You already know part of the story, but while I was drifting around the world, I ended up bumping into this guy calling himself the Seer. Morcant. He had a prophecy for me. He told me to go after the Red Orb—that if I did, I’d meet the Luminary somewhere deep underground, and that if I helped him, I’d finally be forgiven. So far, everything he told me came true, so...I’m hoping this will too.”

With a deep sigh, he pushed open the door, and together, the two of them stepped inside.

“Meet my little sister...Mia.”

There, right in the center of the cave, was a single golden statue—a young girl frozen in time.

She looked desperate and terrified, and Eleven could still hear her frantically begging her brother for help as the curse consumed her, a memory that was as clear as day but that he wasn’t supposed to have.

He would save her.

He would save her, and then he would take that necklace and throw it into the ocean where no one would be able to find it ever again.

Erik turned to him with a good deal of hope in his eyes.

“So I was thinking,” he began, “now that you've got the Sword of Light, your Luminary powers are pretty much maxed out, right? Maybe...maybe you can use them to break the curse.”

The thief reached out and placed a hand on the side of Eleven’s arm, gripping just enough for him to be able to feel the way his friend was shaking. He was clearly worried and nervous but also anxious at the possibility of getting his sister back.

“Please, El. It might not work, but it’s got to be worth a try. She might’ve been turned to gold, but my sister’s still in there, I know it.”

Eleven gave him a smile, one that he hoped was reassuring, because after coming this far, he had no intention of failing. Sure, there would probably always be that small seed of doubt, that little part of him that wasn’t sure if he could truly accomplish any of the things that he had set out to do, that still felt like someone stronger or smarter or more capable should’ve been chosen as the Luminary, but in this case he was able to push it aside. He would make this work, would pour everything he had into this one task.

His job was to save people, to save everyone, and if he couldn’t even help a young girl who’d been cursed, then what good was he?

He would do it. Not just because Erik had asked him to, but because it was the right thing to do.

“I already told you I would,” he said softly. “I promise I’ll save her.”

Erik gave his arm a gentle squeeze before releasing him, and Eleven immediately reached for the Sword of Light.

He had gotten pretty good at calling on that power within him, but this was definitely something new, something he had never tried before. So far he had only really used it when he was in danger, when things were desperate and his life was on the line, but surely he could use it for something like this too. He just needed to concentrate, to draw on that light, to let the sword forged by the last Luminary and tempered with lightning amplify that unique power that was his and his alone.

He could see his mark reacting as light began to pour out of it, and soon the blade in his hands was shining as well, but through it all he kept his attention on Mia and focused only on the necklace she wore around her neck.

He didn’t have Serena’s keen instincts when it came to ailments and curses, couldn’t feel things like presences and ill intent in the same manner that she could, but there was definitely something there, like a tug at the edge of his mind. He could feel it trying to resist, to cling tightly to its victim, but Eleven was stronger, his will to save her easily overpowering the curse’s ability to keep her trapped.

The necklace became engulfed in light, and Mia soon followed.

He could see Erik shielding his eyes against the near blinding radiance, but Eleven made sure to keep his open, to watch as the gold receded, as metal once again became flesh and the cursed relic responsible for so much heartache finally released its hold and fell to the ground.

The light faded, and he watched as his best friend opened his eyes, only for them to widen as he saw his sister standing there.

Whole. Alive. Free.

After having been frozen in place for so long, Mia slumped forward as the stiffness in her body finally vanished, leaving behind what was probably one very tired young girl.

“E-Erik...?” she called softly, uncertainly, and as she began to fall, the thief lurched forward and ran to her, catching her and lowering her gently to the ground.

Erik looked like he wanted to cry as he hugged her close, his shoulders shaking, and as Eleven watched the two of them, brother and sister reunited, he felt a little like he was intruding, like this was a private moment meant only for them. They had been apart for so long, and he would’ve loved to be able to give them the privacy that they deserved, but yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“I’m sorry, Mia...”

He watched the girl smile and shake her head.

“Don’t worry about it... I forgive you.”

A weight that he hadn’t even known was there lifted from his chest.

The promise that Morcant had made to Erik, the prophecy that he had given him... In the end, Eleven had been able to fulfil it.

It was a good feeling.

“Mia?”

“I’m just tired. Don’t worry so much.”

“...I guess introducing you to everyone will have to wait for now. I’ll get you someplace warm to rest, alright?”

“Okay...”

Erik easily lifted his sister into his arms and then stood up to face Eleven.

“Can you zoom us back to Sniflheim?” he asked.

The Luminary nodded and then motioned for the thief to follow him outside where the rest of their party had been patiently waiting. They all could’ve fit inside the cave—they had done it before—and yet the six of them had chosen to hang back, to allow their friend some privacy. Erik had definitely given them all a lot to think about, and the thief would probably have quite a few questions to answer later, but for the moment all that mattered was taking care of Mia. Eleven was pretty sure he knew what his friend had in mind.

In the future, they had left her in the hands of the church as she recovered. Surely the priest who worked there would be just as willing to take her in this time too.

Because as much as he would like to, he knew they couldn’t take her with them. Even residing aboard the Salty Stallion would be risky since just as many monsters roamed the sea as they did the land. She wouldn’t be safe with them. It was better to leave her in a town, and Sniflheim not only had capable soldiers, but it also had Krystalinda. It was well protected. She would be able to rest peacefully there.

Eleven began casting Zoom and felt the familiar magic grab hold of them, whisking them out of the snow and setting them down gently on Sniflheim’s docks. He could see that the Salty Stallion had already made it back (he had told Dave to head back to the port since he had always planned on just zooming them back to the city). They still needed to sort out and collect the supplies they would need for trekking across the Snærfelt, but that could wait until later. They needed to get Mia situated, and then Eleven needed to zoom back to Hotto quick to pick up his new sword.

And then they would get to work on the long list of things they needed to accomplish while in the region, the first being to pay a visit to both Frysabel and Krystalinda.

As their group began to approach the city gates, Erik suddenly came to a stop.

“Is everything alright, Erik?” asked Jade as they all turned to look at the thief.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s just... Everyone knows me here. It’s going to be weird walking through town like this. As far as they know, Mia and I just disappeared five years ago, and I doubt the Vikings ever told them anything. Everyone probably thought we were dead.”

That wasn’t too far off from the truth, really.

“You can deal with them in your own time, honey,” said Sylvando. “Let them stare. The important thing right now is taking care of your dear little sister. Did you have somewhere in mind?”

“The church,” he said with a nod. “The priest there was always kind to us. I’m sure he’ll look after Mia for me.”

With their destination confirmed, the eight of them walked through the gates and into the city. Thankfully the church wasn’t far, and while there were a few Sniflheimers who stopped what they were doing in order to gawk, in the end no one bothered to try and talk to them. Their group was rather large, so it kind of made sense that people would be hesitant to approach regardless of their surprise or curiosity, and just like Sylvando had said, Erik could deal with them all later. He had more important things to be getting on with right now.

As soon as they reached the church, Eleven tapped his friend on the shoulder, drawing his attention.

“I think I’m going to zoom back to Hotto now to pick up my sword,” he said softly, a bit hesitantly. “Will you...will you be alright by yourself? Or did you want me to come with you?”

The look Erik gave him was confused at first, which made him almost regret asking, but it soon melted away into a grateful smile.

“I’ll be alright,” he assured the Luminary. “Thanks, El.”

And with that said, his friend made his way into the church, with Sylvando holding the door open for him, with Jade and Veronica flanking him, and with Hendrik, Rab, and Serena trailing after him—and Eleven realized that even if he wasn’t there to help him, Erik wasn’t alone.

The eight of them were a team, a family, and that meant that they stood by each other no matter what.

If the thief had been concerned about being judged, about any of them blaming him, about being treated with anything other than compassion and understanding, he clearly needn’t have worried. None of them were the types of people to abandon a friend, to let a single mistake change their perspective, a mistake that wasn’t really a mistake at all because Erik hadn’t known.

But it was over now. It was over, and he could finally start to heal, to move on and put it behind him. Eleven knew there was going to be a longer conversation about it all in the future though, because Erik had told him that he wanted the Luminary to know everything, and the story he had given, despite its detail, had been very abridged. He no longer needed to worry though about keeping his past a secret. He could be open about it with all of them, could share stories around the campfire just like everyone else did. Eleven had gotten a glimpse of what Mia was like thanks to Yggdrasil, and so he was sure there were probably some amusing anecdotes from their youth despite the hardships they had endured.

He wanted to know everything. He would definitely hold Erik to that promise.

With that thought in mind, the Luminary gathered his magic and cast Zoom.

He had a shiny new sword to pick up, after all.

Eleven made a mental note to himself.

Switching from a very hot environment to an extremely cold one was a bad idea. The moment he arrived back in Sniflheim, his chest immediately began to ache. Thankfully the salve he had rubbed on that morning and the medicinal herbs that he had shoved in his mouth before leaving Hotto were doing their job, but the sudden change in temperature was still a bit of a shock to his system.

Before heading into the Snærfelt, he really needed to remember to head back to his room and shove a few things in his bag. Sure, carrying around a bunch of herbs and some slave would probably earn him a lot of questions, but as long as no one found out, then he didn’t need to worry about it. He would rather be prepared for the worst.

And if someone happened to notice his medical stash, well...he would just have to come up with something. He could manage just a teeny, tiny little lie, surely.

Hopefully.

(He would cross that bridge if he got there).

After taking a quick look around the docks just to see if any of his friends happened to be loitering nearby, Eleven made his way back to the church. He hadn’t been gone for too long, so he was pretty sure that’s where Erik would be—and sure enough, as he made his way inside and towards the back room, he found his friend sitting in a chair by the bed.

Mia was sleeping comfortably, with the blankets pulled all the way up to her chin.

...It was entirely possible that she had never slept in such a nice bed before in her life.

That was going to change.

When this was over, he would definitely ask Erik about having a house built for the two of them in Cobblestone. More than anything, he wanted them to have a safe place to come back to, a place that was theirs, so that they would never need to worry about food or shelter or warmth ever again.

He wanted them to be happy, and no matter what it took, he would find a way to make it happen.

They deserved that much at least.

Erik turned his head to look at him, having obviously heard him enter the room, and gave the Luminary a bright smile.

“Hey, El,” he greeted. “Guess your errand didn’t take too long.”

His eyes inevitably drifted to the new sword hanging at the Luminary’s hip, clearly evaluating the blade. Erik had a good eye for quality, for things that were expensive and well-made, and the look of satisfaction that washed over his face implied that he hadn’t found the weapon wanting.

“You really didn’t have to pay anything for it?” he asked.

“No. It was in exchange for all the orichalcum I gave him. It’s not like I needed anything in return, but he really wanted me to have it. I don’t think he would’ve taken no for an answer...”

“Well, it was a good deal,” Erik told him. “A sword made from orichalcum shouldn’t break, so you don’t have to worry about being careful with it. I know the plan is to make another Sword of Light, but that one should hold you over until we can actually forge it. Hopefully we’ll be able to find something about lumen essence while we’re here.”

“Let’s hope so,” he agreed. “We’re running out of places to check.”

Eleven tried really hard not to think about the final thing on that list, the one he had added very begrudgingly, and in order to avoid the potential of Erik bringing it up, he quickly changed the topic of conversation.

“How’s Mia?” he asked as he moved closer to the bed, coming to stand next to his partner.

“She’s alright,” Erik said with a good deal of relief in his voice. “I had Serena look her over. She said there’s nothing left of the curse, but that she’ll probably need to rest for a while. After being frozen for five years, I guess that’s not surprising. She just needs time to get her strength back is all. The priest agreed to look after her for now. She’ll be safe in Sniflheim.”

The thief heaved a deep sigh and closed his eyes as he leaned over in his chair, propping his arms up on his legs to support himself. Despite his hunched position, as if all of his energy had suddenly left him, he looked...freer than before, less burdened, as if a great weight had fallen off his shoulders.

For something that he had been carrying with him for so long to suddenly just...vanish, it had to be an odd feeling.

He couldn’t really imagine just how liberating it must be. Perhaps one day, when the world was safe, he would be able to understand.

“...Thank you, El,” said Erik, his voice soft but overflowing with gratitude. “You have no idea how much this means to me. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay you for this.”

He shook his head, even though he knew his friend couldn’t see it.

“Erik, you don’t owe me anything,” he said just as softly, just as earnestly. “I was happy to help. You’ve already done so much for me, more than you even know, and so this was the least I could do for you. If you ever need something from me, all you have to do is ask.”

I’d do anything for you.

He doesn’t say it, but he definitely thinks it, and when Erik looks up at him in surprise, with wide blue eyes and an emotion that Eleven can’t quite place written across his face, he can’t help but wonder if his friend had somehow heard him anyway.

It wouldn’t be the first time. Erik was good at that.

Without warning, the thief suddenly stood up from his chair, and just like he had in the cave, he reached for Eleven, but this time he caught his wrist instead of his arm.

His left wrist, the hand with the Mark of Light, the part of him that made him special, that he had used only a short while ago to save Mia.

The eyes looking back at him were insistent, and it wasn’t that dissimilar to the look Erik had given him in Hotto, when he had told Eleven that none of them were with him just because he was the Luminary. When he opened his mouth to speak, the words that followed were also similar, but they held something different this time, an intensity that he also couldn’t quite place (he really wasn’t good at reading people).

“I need you to know,” Erik began intently, almost desperately, “that just because the Seer promised me forgiveness if I helped you, that’s not why I’m here. Yes, I wanted you to save Mia, but that’s not why I stayed, and no matter what, I promise to see this through with you to the bitter end. I’ll be here for however long you need me, El. I swear it.”

That feeling of his heart being squeezed returned, and just for a moment, it felt as if he were choking on all the words he wanted to say.

He loved him—he really did, and he tried to put as much of that feeling into his voice as he could without giving anything away.

“Thank you, Erik,” he said softly, and because he couldn’t help himself, he added, “I don’t think I could do this without you.”

Something shifted in Erik’s expression at those words, and Eleven suddenly found himself on the end of a very contemplative, very evaluating look, as if the thief were trying to pick apart what he had just said in order to find the meaning behind it. It was very close to the look he used to give him, that he still sometimes gave him whenever Eleven said or did something odd.

The look of someone trying to solve a puzzle.

The hand around his wrist tightened and something hardened in those sharp blue eyes.

“El—”

But unfortunately, whatever Erik had been about to say was interrupted by the door opening, and the look on his face as well as the hand around Eleven’s wrist vanished.

The priest in charge of the church walked in, staring down at something in his hands, and the Luminary couldn’t help the spike of unease as he caught sight of red gems accented in gold.

He was holding the cursed necklace. Eleven had seen Erik swipe it before leaving the cave, but why give it to the priest? Surely he didn’t plan to have anyone hold on to it—Eleven still fully intended on throwing it into the ocean.

“I did as you asked,” the man began, “but there doesn’t seem to be any trace of the curse left. Whatever power was used to free your sister has removed it completely.”

He saw Erik breathe a sigh of relief as the man handed the necklace back to him, and while those words were a bit of a comfort—it was good to know that no one else would ever suffer the same fate that Mia had—they didn’t really do much to settle his nerves.

Erik tossed the necklace into the air before catching it with ease and then turned to Eleven with a smile.

“You should start heading towards the castle,” he said. “Everyone else is probably there already. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

“Where are you going?” he asked, curious, as the thief began to head for the door, and with a mischievous grin, Erik dangled the necklace between his fingers and gave it a good shake.

His next words had the Luminary chuckling long after he left the room.

Maybe Erik really could read his mind.

The two of them were just far too similar sometimes.

“I need to go throw this in the ocean.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 22: A Careless Mistake

Sniflheim’s castle really was something else. Even though he knew the building wasn’t actually made of ice, the interior made him feel like he was walking through a sculpted glacier. The beautiful polished blue stone, the stained glass, the high ceilings—it was easily one of the most impressive places he had been to. He would love to be able to explore all of it one day, but unfortunately there wasn’t time for that now.

Maybe once their business was complete in the kingdom, he would ask for a tour.

He could think on it more later.

Just like Erik had said, the rest of his party was already inside, though they hadn’t gotten far. They were actually just standing in the entryway, talking to the two guards stationed there. One looked deeply worried while the other looked like he should be resting in a bed instead of guarding the door.

As he approached, Eleven couldn’t help but overhear the conversation that was taking place, and although he only caught bits and pieces of it, the moment the words “black serpent” reached his ears, he immediately put everything together and realized exactly what it was that was plaguing the kingdom this time.

The auroral serpent: a dragon that had been sealed away by Erdwin. In the future, it had been released by Mordegon, and this time around it had likely broken free thanks to Calasmos.

Great. Last time they had fought the beast, it had almost killed them. A timely intervention by Serena had been the only reason they made it out of that battle alive. However, if the serpent had been granted power by the Dark One, just like so many of the other monsters they had fought, then there was a good chance that even her gift for weakening monsters with Serenica’s harp wouldn’t be enough. She also likely wouldn’t be given the opportunity to try.

It was going to be a tough fight, and he prayed they would be ready for it.

There was maybe a tiny little voice in the back of his head telling him that this was what he had asked for, a monster instead of some magical plague, and he therefore had no one to blame for this but himself, but he kindly told it to be quiet. After all, what he had really wanted was for there to be no crisis at all, but he had already known that that would more or less be an impossibility given not only the kingdom’s track record but his own.

It was fine. He would fix this.

He would talk to Frysabel and Krystalinda, and also maybe Snorri if he was around, and then once all of their questions had been asked and all the information they could get was gathered, they would head into the Snærfelt to first kill the dragon, then go the Hekswood to see if maybe Jörmun had somehow been resurrected (or if a new magical beast had taken his place), and then finally they would go to the library.

Putting it all in order made it sound easy, but he knew it would be anything but. He was likely looking at several days, it not a week or more, in the frigid kingdom.

Great.

As he walked up to his friends, it was Sylvando who noticed him first.

“Oh, back already?” he asked, easily drawing everyone’s attention to the fact that Eleven had finally joined them, before a bright smile split his face. “Well, come on, darling. Let’s see it.”

With a smile of his own—Sylvando’s enthusiasm had always been quite infectious—he reached for the new sword at his hip and drew it, displaying it carefully across his hands.

The Sword of Kings wasn’t actually all that different from the Sword of Light design wise. The colors, the sheen of the blade, the way it felt in his hands, all of it was similar. He couldn’t help but wonder if maybe the blacksmith had taken inspiration from the sword of legend, the fabled weapon of the first Luminary. Perhaps that was why the blade looked the way it did.

Sylvando gave an appreciative whistle while Hendrik took a few steps closer to get a better look at the orichalcum sword.

“A very fine blade indeed,” the knight said with a pleased grin. “I am sure it will serve you well.”

He certainly hoped so. At the very least, he knew he could count on it not to shatter (he was maybe still a little bitter about that).

He sheathed his sword, and with a smile still on his face, he suggested heading for the throne room to see the queen and Krystalinda. While Erik had yet to join them, he got the feeling that the thief wouldn’t be meeting up with them anytime soon. Walking through the city alone, he was more than likely going to get stopped multiple times by the Sniflheimers who had known him when he was younger. He and Mia had been rather popular among the citizens, after all.

That was fine. He didn’t need to be present for the conversation. Eleven wasn’t planning for it to take too long anyway. They just needed to talk to Frysabel about the dragon, assure her that they would take care of it, and then ask Krystalinda about lumen essence.

With any luck, she would know something and could maybe point them in the right direction. That was all he needed, really.

The seven of them made their way through the entry hall and up the stairs to the throne room. The guards standing nearby recognized them immediately and allowed all of them entry without hesitation. Apparently after what had happened last time, the queen considered them all her friends, which meant they were allowed to come and go as they pleased. That would definitely make things easier (especially since he still really wanted that tour later).

The throne room, just like the castle, was another sight to behold. A platform suspended high in the air, surrounded by railings so that no one could accidently fall off and plummet to the floor below. The architecture really was interesting. He knew that the castle had been around for centuries, that the techniques used to build it had been lost ages ago (the elevator that led down to the dungeons was a marvel, even more so because no one seemed to know how it actually worked). There really weren’t too many places like it on Erdrea. The Temple of Lost Time was the only place that really came to mind, and...well...

The less he thought about that place, the better.

In no time at all, Eleven found himself standing before Queen Frysabel, once again ready to help the crystal kingdom deal with the newest problem plaguing their beautiful city.

“Eleven!” Frysabel gasped, clearly surprised to see them all there, but the shock quickly melted into a look of immense relief. “How wonderful it is to see you again! I hope you have been doing well. The world has become so dangerous as of late...”

“That it has, your majesty,” he agreed.

“What brings you to Sniflheim?”

“I’m currently searching for something, and I think I might be able to find the information I need here, but that can wait for now. Your guards mentioned something about a black serpent that’s been rampaging through the Snærfelt?”

She nodded solemnly, folding her hands in her lap as her eyes drifted towards the ground.

“Yes,” she said sadly, and though she managed to do a good job of hiding her distress, it was still there in the furrow of her brow and the tone of her voice. “A terrible black dragon has recently emerged from the frozen fjord in the Snærfelt. We believe it to be the fell beast who terrorized my kingdom in the Age of Heroes—the auroral serpent. At the moment, it is rampaging around the eastern snowfields, but if it were to turn its attention on the city, I doubt we would withstand such an assault for long. My brave soldiers have gone out to meet it many times, but on each occasion they have been driven back, lucky to escape with their lives...”

She raised her head and looked directly at him, and as she began to wring her hands and bite down on her lip in hesitation, he was reminded that this young woman had only been queen for a few months, and that in those few short months she had been trapped within a magical book, had watched her kingdom and her people be turned to ice (and in the future gold), had struggled a good deal with doubting her ability to rule, and was now being faced with a crisis where she risked either her city being destroyed or her men being sent to their deaths (or both).

She didn’t deserve this.

“We’ll take care of the dragon,” he said, earning him a few surprised looks from the soldiers standing guard but a very relieved, very grateful smile from both Frysabel and Krystalinda.

“You will!? Oh, thank you! Thank you! You cannot know how much this means to me. Please, if there is anything you need before heading into the Snærfelt, do not hesitate to let me know. If you need supplies or equipment for your journey, I would be happy to provide it for you. And of course were you to defeat the serpent, I would make sure you were rewarded most handsomely.”

“Thank you, your majesty, but that isn’t necessary. I don’t need a reward. I’m happy to help.”

“Oh?” said Krystalinda, immediately drawing Eleven’s attention. The witch had remained quiet during the exchange thus far, but apparently Eleven’s last comment had drawn her interest. “What you’ve just volunteered for will be no easy task. Do you truly desire nothing in return?”

“...Well, not exactly,” he began. She had given him an opening, so he may as well take it. “One of the reasons I came to Sniflheim was because I wanted to ask you a question about something I’m looking for, something magical. I haven’t had much luck so far, but given how much magic you’ve studied, I thought that maybe you might be able to help.”

She looked surprised for just a moment before a confident grin pulled at her lips and her eyes lit up with curiosity.

“Consider it done,” she said as she made her way down from the dais, coming to a stop in front of him. “Ask me anything, my dear boy, and I will share with you what I know.”

“Thank you.” She was their best chance.

If Krystalinda didn’t know anything about lumen essence...

If she couldn’t at least point them in the right direction, he wasn’t sure what they would do.

“I was wondering if you happen to know anything about lumen essence.”

Her curiosity quickly turned to surprise.

“Lumen essence? Of course I know of it. During the Age of Heroes, mages would often use it to purify crystals and mirrors for magical experiments and divinations, myself included.”

...Finally.

Finally they were getting somewhere, and he couldn’t stop that small seed of hope from taking root in his chest.

“Do you know where we’d be able to find it?” he asked eagerly. “Or how to make it?”

She quirked one delicate eyebrow, and her earlier curiosity returned.

“Why do you need lumen essence?” she asked.

“There’s a boy in Hotto who’s been turned into a dragon due to a curse. His mother has a magic mirror that can break it, but she needs lumen essence to make it work. I promised I’d find it for her.”

He wasn’t really sure what he expected her reaction to be. Despite the air she gave off sometimes, he had seen in the future that she actually cared quite a lot about people, that she had a good heart (she willingly allowed herself to be locked in the dungeon while researching Gold Fever just to put people’s minds at ease, holding nothing against them and even understanding their prejudice). However, he was pretty sure he couldn’t have predicted the way her expression softened, nor how she reached up to place a hand on his head, ruffling his hair gently, and while this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence (Jade, Sylvando, and Erik had all done it on more than one occasion), it was still pretty unexpected.

It reminded him a bit of the way his mother used to pat his head as a child.

“You really are a sweet boy, aren’t you,” she said with a smile. “I would be happy to tell you what I know, though I’m not sure how helpful it will be. I was sealed away in that book for a long time, and the world has changed much over those many years.”

“I’ll take any information I can get,” he told her. “We honestly haven’t had much luck so far...”

Krystalinda withdrew her hand and placed it confidently on her hip before fixing him with a rather serious look.

“Lumen essence,” she began, “is an extract from the leaves of a very special plant with magical properties, mixed with pure spring water. You could actually find it quite naturally gathered in pools in the region you now know as the Champs Sauvage. The plants generally grew in high altitudes at the tops of plateaus.”

High altitudes in the Champs Sauvage...

The Eerie Eyrie.

“We’ve been to a place like that,” he said.

“Then did you see any glowing pools? The plants themselves give off a pale green light, but a pool of lumen essence has a very distinct blue glow to it. If you saw one, I doubt you wouldn’t remember it.”

Eleven could feel his heart starting to sink. They had searched every inch of the Eerie Eyrie on their quest to find the orbs. There had been all sorts of plants growing there and several pools of clear spring water, but none of them had been glowing.

“We didn’t see anything like that...” he said, feeling rather dismayed.

He really shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. It was better not to expect too much; disappointment always hurt less that way.

After all this time, he still hadn’t learned his lesson.

“Well, it has been almost a millennia since I was actively practicing magic,” Krystalinda told him. “Erdrea has changed a great deal in that time. It’s always possible that the plant no longer exists, or that it now grows elsewhere. I unfortunately still know little of what occurred after I was sealed away, but some record of what became of the plant or lumen essence may exist in the Royal Library. Most mages are quite meticulous when it comes to keeping notes. Someone would surely have researched it.”

He had really been hoping for an easy answer, just this once, but at the same time he wasn’t all that surprised. Everything about this quest was a long shot. At the very least, they now knew more than they did before. Krystalinda had been able to tell them exactly what it was and how it was made. If they could just find a place where the plants still grew, then they would be able to make it themselves.

Hopefully the Royal Library would have some answers.

“Thanks, Krystalinda,” he said. “You’ve been a big help.”

“Think nothing of it, my dear. You’re always welcome to ask me anything. I do hope you find something in all those books, and I wish you the best of luck with that dragon. It’s not a monster to take lightly.”

“We’ll be careful, I promise.”

With a few last farewells to both Krystalinda and Frysabel, the seven of them made their way out of the throne room...and almost immediately ran into Snorri.

The scholar’s eyes went wide as he took several steps back, but his surprise quickly turned into relief upon realizing just who it was that he had bumped into.

“Ah, my old friends,” he began with a smile. “You have no idea how wonderful it is to see you all again. In fact, your timing could not be better!”

Caught a little off guard by the man’s sudden enthusiasm, Eleven found himself at a loss for words. Thankfully, Veronica was quick to step in (she and the scholar got on rather well, and not for the first time he couldn’t help but wonder exactly what had occurred while he’d been lying in the man’s cabin unconscious).

“Oh? Did you find something interesting, Snorri?” the mage asked, to which he nodded emphatically.

“Indeed I did. It turns out that the magical beast you were tricked into slaying has come back to life!”

...Now, that immediately caught Eleven’s attention.

Over the course of the last couple of months, ever since going back in time and realizing just how much needed to be fixed, the Luminary had accumulated a lot of lists, but only one of them was anywhere close to completion: Gemma’s list of things he could do and people he could find to help Cobblestone.

While he didn’t fully understand all of her reasonings, a holy guardian beast like Jörmun had been on that list, which was one of the many reasons he had wanted to come to Sniflheim.

Back when Gemma had first brought it up, Eleven hadn’t had the heart to tell his oldest friend that the magical beast she had read about had actually been killed (and by him no less), but now he didn’t need to worry about it.

He could go to the Hekswood, talk to Jörmun, and then zoom him over to Cobblestone.

Perfect.

“However, I am afraid there is some bad news too. Ever since his return, Jörmun has been attacking all the poor travelers passing through the Hekswood. He is a peaceable beast by nature, and so I fear that the poor creature may have been corrupted by some dark power.”

...Okay, maybe not so perfect.

“I seem to remember an ancient tome in the Royal Library entitled ‘The Great Guardian of the Hekswood.’ I suspect it might tell us how to banish the darkness and restore Jörmun to his senses. If his rampage continues, it is only a matter of time before someone is seriously injured. I was just on my way to speak to Queen Frysabel and Krystalinda about a solution—”

“We’ll take care of it,” he said (because of course they would), which earned him a bright, grateful smile from the man.

Eleven was never, ever going to hope for something to be easy again, because clearly the world really did love to spite him.

Yet another thing to add to his list.

He had forgotten just how cold it was in the Snærfelt.

He had also forgotten just how much snow there was to trudge through. While the auroral serpent had been seen at various spots throughout the frozen region, it primarily remained in the south, close to where it had been sealed away, which was good for the people of Sniflheim but not great for anyone attempting to fell the creature. It was kind of hard to fight if you were tired from having walked across the entirety of the Snærfelt.

He really hoped that his party would fare better than the knights had. He also hoped that they would be able to take down the dragon with less trouble than before. After all, they didn’t really have anyone to swoop in at the last minute and save them this time. If the monster ended up pulling the same stunt as before, they would all be done for.

Hopefully the fight would go smoother this time. Hopefully the Dark One’s influence hadn’t made it significantly stronger than before, given how strong it had already been. With his luck, however, it probably had. They were likely going to be in for a tough fight.

And to make matters worse, his chest was starting to hurt. He had greatly underestimated just how bad the cold would be. Apparently all the salves and medicine that he had used in the future had actually had way more of an impact than he’d originally thought. His scarred skin was starting to feel tight, and it was beginning to itch around the edges as well. He knew better than to try and rub at it though. While there were some spots that were mostly numb, there were just as many that were hypersensitive.

Rab and Serena had explained it to him before, about damaged and destroyed nerves, about the skin of a scar being less flexible and therefore more prone to cracking and breaking when stretched or contracted, and about how regardless of what spells were used, there were just some things that not even magic could fix. If his wound had been treated right away, then maybe it wouldn’t have ended up as bad as it did, but at the same time, what had been done to him was unprecedented. It was unlike any normal injury, magical or otherwise.

The two healers had informed him that because of the nature of his wound, because of the way it was created—the fact that Mordegon had forced a significant amount of dark magic into his body while also tearing something out of it—that if he were to ever be struck there with dark magic again, it would likely be excruciating. Thankfully he had yet to find out if that was true or not. He could admit to experiencing some discomfort when in close proximity to it, but nothing more than that. After all, Rab regularly used dark magic spells. It would be really inconvenient if he couldn’t be near him any time he went to cast one.

...He really wanted to reach up and rub at his chest to try and alleviate some of the irritation. As soon as they were done with the auroral serpent, he was zooming them all back to Sniflheim and then making a beeline for the Salty Stallion. He would come up with an excuse, maybe claim he had a headache or something. That might be believable. Frysabel could wait a few minutes to be told of their success, surely...assuming they did succeed, of course, but at this point he wasn’t willing to accept anything less.

He absolutely couldn’t fall here. He had too much left to do. They would beat the dragon and save Sniflheim (again), and then head to the library where they would likely be spending several days looking through the vast plethora of books for all the information they needed. He wasn’t quite optimistic enough to believe that they would just find everything right away. Even with eight of them searching, the library was massive, and they weren’t familiar enough with its layout or its categorizing to be able to locate all of the information they were looking for without going through shelves upon shelves of books.

Thankfully the inner sanctum of the library was not only safe, but it also had a fireplace, and so they would probably be able to sleep there without much issue. It surely wouldn’t be the first time that someone seeking knowledge had stayed overnight in the library, after all. Given the nature of most scholars, he was pretty sure that many of them had probably spent weeks upon weeks there, pouring over all of the books it had to offer.

While it was true that they could zoom back to the Salty Stallion each night and sleep in their nice, comfortable beds, there was very little point in doing so since they would simply have to trek all the way back the next day, which was a significant waste of both time and energy. It was just better not to leave until they had found everything they needed.

He prayed that Krystalinda was right, that someone had kept track over the years of what became of lumen essence. Whether it be a mage or a botanist or just someone interested in the arcane and magical, surely someone would’ve written it down, would’ve created some sort of record about it.

Hopefully the plant hadn’t gone extinct. Hopefully there were still some left somewhere. He wasn’t sure what he would do otherwise. While it was true that they hadn’t needed it in the future for the magic mirror to work, what had happened in the future was also something that he was trying very desperately to avoid.

Ryu had only changed back as he was dying, because his mother had made a sacrifice.

That wasn’t acceptable this time.

He would save him. He would save both of them.

Ryu was the most important thing to Miko, the one thing she couldn’t afford to lose.

Her whole world.

Eleven couldn’t fail them. Not again.

Not this time.

Not—

“You’re frowning again.”

He heaved a sigh and glanced over to the thief at his side, who was watching him with just a bit of concern in his eyes.

“Sorry.”

“You worried about the dragon?”

“Yes, but...that’s not what I was thinking about.”

The concern was quickly replaced with curiosity as Erik gave him a little more of his attention.

“Then what were you thinking about?” he asked, and Eleven knew there was little point in trying to lie about it.

“Ryu and lumen essence. And what might happen if we don’t find it.”

This time it was Erik’s turn to sigh.

“You need to stop worrying about that,” he told him. “We’ll find it. Even if we have to go through every book in the library, we’ll figure something out.”

“...Every book?” he couldn’t help but ask in amusement, because he very clearly remembered what the thief had said the last time they visited the Royal Library.

“Every book.”

“And here I thought you didn’t like books.”

That earned him a frustrated groan as Erik ran a hand through his hair in irritation.

“Not you too,” he muttered. “Just because I made that one comment... Look, for the record, I don’t dislike reading. It just has to be interesting.”

“Some people would argue that all books are interesting.”

“They absolutely aren’t.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that, and as he saw a grin spread across his friend’s face, he wondered if that had been his goal all along. It wouldn’t be the first time that Erik had engaged him in conversation for the sole purpose of lifting his spirits, of taking his mind off of whatever it was that was worrying him.

Unfortunately, his good mood only lasted for a moment, as it was thoroughly interrupted by the vicious roar of a dragon.

They were getting close. The frozen fjord was right up ahead, and the clearing where the auroral serpent had been lingering was just beyond it.

As they reached the narrow passage that would lead them to their next battle, Eleven came to a stop and turned to face his party. One quick strategy meeting to cover just a few possibilities, because there were two aspects of this fight that were going to make things difficult aside from the obvious.

The first was that the auroral serpent could fly. Flying enemies were always frustrating, because part of their strategy ended up having to involve forcing the monster down to a level where it could be hit. They would need to rely a lot on magic this time around.

And the second was that he was pretty sure the dragon would primarily be targeting him. The auroral serpent in the future had harbored a deep hatred for Erdwin, a hatred that spanned centuries, that had grown and festered with each passing year, and one that the monster had chosen to redirect entirely towards Eleven.

A relentless desire to kill the Luminary.

It would be risky, but he needed to try and use that to his advantage, to draw the beast close enough where it could be struck by their weapons. That meant that he absolutely needed Kabuff, Acceleratle, and possibly Magic Barrier up at all times if he were to have any hope of making it out of this fight without getting severely injured.

Of course, he couldn’t exactly share that part of his plan with his friends, not yet anyway, although they would probably notice once the fight actually started.

Be that as it may, not telling them didn’t mean he couldn’t still prepare for it.

“We’ll treat this battle the same way we usually do,” he said. “Make sure that Kabuff and Acceleratle are up at all times. Don’t worry about casting Oomphle for this fight. The auroral serpent can fly, so we’re going to have to time our attacks for when it’s low enough to the ground. The window will likely be too small for that spell to be effective.”

He looked to both Veronica and Hendrik.

“I need the two of you to be ready to cast Magic Barrier if needed. I don’t know what kind of spells it’ll throw at us, if any, but we need to be ready just in case. This was a monster that Erdwin sealed away instead of killing. We have to be careful.”

He was met with a chorus of agreement, and as everyone readied themselves, the eight of them walked out into the clearing.

Another roar echoed across the area, and their eyes were all drawn to the sky where a long black dragon was floating, its body twisting and turning amidst the clouds.

When those glowing green eyes met his, Eleven felt a chill run down his spine.

The beast descended in an instant, stopping only a few feet away. It opened its mouth wide, and in a slow, malicious drawl, it began speaking.

“Sssince time beyond memory, I have been sssealed away in that frozen fjord,” the dragon said. “But thanksss to the dark massster, I am releasssed—and I am ssstronger than ever before! By Erdwin'sss hand wasss I locked away in that icy prissson, but now I will have my revenge!”

The auroral serpent reared back and gave a deafening roar.

“Ssscion of the Luminary, prepare to be consssumed!”

Eleven wasn’t surprised—he had more or less been expecting this—but those words were worrying nonetheless.

What was even more worrying was that, without hesitation, the beast immediately launched itself towards him with its mouth open wide. It really did plan on eating him, and if not for the fact that Erik was right next to him (because that’s where he always was), the battle would’ve probably ended before it even began.

The thief quickly tackled him out of the way, and as the two of them hit the snow, the massive dragon flew past, just barely missing them.

Eleven felt the magic of Acceleratle and Kabuff surround him as he and Erik got back to their feet and drew their weapons.

He looked up at the serpent just in time to see it start to cast a spell.

The previous auroral serpent had been able to use Kazam, which could only target one person at a time, and so he braced himself, expecting to be struck with dark magic.

Instead the air around him began to heat up, and he watched as four pillars of fire suddenly formed and shot up from the ground.

Kasizzle.

This time it knew Kasizzle, and as all four tendrils began to converge on the Luminary, he quickly gave the order.

“Veronica, Hendrik!”

The protective shell of Magic Barrier surrounded him just before the fire struck, exploding outward to engulf the entire area.

The heat was intense, and a lot of him immediately began to hurt (once again going from one extreme temperature to the next, because the world just couldn’t be kind to him), but thankfully there was no lasting damage—nothing burned, nothing singed. However, with a spell like that at its disposal, that meant they couldn’t afford to have the effects of Magic Barrier run out either.

That was three spells they needed to have up. Thankfully after so many battles, his friends were good at keeping an eye on each other, at knowing when to renew spells, when to heal, when it was safe to focus on debuffing and attacking instead of casting supports. He never had to worry about anyone not doing exactly what was needed of them. One of the reasons that he could fight so effectively, could focus so intently was because he knew he had all of them at his back and at his side, looking after and supporting him.

They could do this.

And he would be sure to create the openings they all needed.

His job in this fight was to act as bait, even if none of them were quite aware of that yet. He was still pretty sure it wouldn’t take them long to figure it out. At least he wasn’t really putting himself in danger by choice this time. It wasn’t his fault that the auroral serpent had it out for him. Surely they couldn’t blame him for that. A millennium old grudge was a dangerous thing.

As soon as the heat vanished, Eleven immediately located the dragon and threw the magic of Zapple at it. Things that could fly generally didn’t do well with electricity, and sure enough, the beast roared in anger and started to descend again.

Just as the Luminary expected, the serpent was once more targeting him, ignoring everyone else on the field.

He dodged out of the way, turned, and quickly brought both his blades down, cutting two gashes into its side. The wounds weren’t as deep as he’d been hoping—dragon scales were rather resilient to physical damage—but progress was progress, and he had known from the beginning that this would possibly be a lengthy fight depending on just how strong the Dark One’s influence was.

Deep wounds or not, the dragon roared in anger as if flew into the air and turned to face him.

“Accursssed Luminary!” it bellowed before sucking in a deep breath, only to release a breath attack, a massive wave of pure dark miasma that came raining down towards him.

Magic Barrier wouldn’t protect him, and there wasn’t time to get Insulate up.

This was probably going to hurt...or it would have if Hendrik hadn’t moved in front of him, raising his shield and deflecting the dark energy off to the sides and away from Eleven.

“Thanks Hendrik,” he said with a relieved sigh.

“This beast seems fixated on you,” the knight noted as he continued to stand against the onslaught, refusing to budge from his place in front of Eleven despite the force bearing down on him. The man always had taken his job of protecting the Luminary very seriously.

“I know.” Because he did. “We can use that to our advantage.”

Hendrik glanced back at him, both wary and curious.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll distract him,” he said, and before Hendrik could immediately disagree with that plan (because he absolutely would), Eleven continued his train of thought without giving the man time to respond. “I can draw him closer to the ground, and then you, Jade, and Erik can move in to attack. He’s big, but he’s also slow. You should be able to get a decent amount of hits in.”

“You would be putting yourself in danger.”

“I’m already in danger. He’s going to keep attacking me regardless of what we do, so we should use that to get the upper hand.”

He wasn’t wrong, and he knew that Hendrik knew he wasn’t wrong, but he also knew that the knight would never condone of a plan that put Eleven’s life at risk.

“I promise I’ll be careful,” he said. “If this doesn’t work, or if it ends up being too risky, then I’ll come up with something else, but right now this is our best chance.”

His self-proclaimed guardian looked very much like he didn’t want to agree to this, but when the force pressing down on his shield vanished and the dragon began casting Kasizzle again, he must’ve realized that they didn’t have time to be debating the merits of Eleven’s idea.

“Very well,” he said begrudgingly right before the two of them dodged out of the way in order to avoid the brunt of the spell (that had once again been aimed directly at the Luminary). “I will relay your plan to the others, but do not do anything reckless.”

“I’ll try not to.”

Eleven looked up at the dragon and watched as ice rained down on it, as two casts of Kaswoosh knocked it off course and opened several cuts across its body, as a fireball slammed directly into its face, but still the beast refused to look away from him, to focus on anything other than getting its revenge for having been imprisoned. It once again charged towards him with its mouth open wide, and he once again dodged at the last second and brought his blades down, earning him even more of the beast’s ire. It quickly swiveled around to face him, breathing more dark miasma towards him, but this time he was able to dodge, to run off to the side and out of reach of the attack.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Jade, Erik, and Hendrik moving towards him, trying to make sure they were close enough to take advantage when the dragon inevitably charged again.

They didn’t have to wait long. The auroral serpent twisted around once more and propelled itself forward.

Perfect.

Eleven immediately cast Zapple, and without even needing to be told, he watched as two casts of Kaswoosh and two Kacracks also assaulted the dragon. With so much magic raining down on it, the serpent was unable to remain airborne and ended up crashing into the snowy ground.

Everyone quickly moved in to press the advantage.

Dragon scales were still difficult to break through, but Hendrik was able to cut a few large gashes with his axe while Jade and Erik made several deep punctures along its side. Eleven cloaked his blades in lightning and brought them down together, and the monster roared in pain and anger before once again casting Kasizzle.

The Luminary felt Magic Barrier renew around him, protecting him from the worst of the heat, but that spell was enough to allow the auroral serpent to escape into the air, and as it flew high out of reach of their blades, Eleven got the feeling that it wouldn’t be falling for the same setup again, that it would likely stick to long-range attacks in order to avoid being ganged up on by all of them.

To be fair, they weren’t doing too badly all things considered. A few burns here, a couple scrapes there, all things that were easily healed and wouldn’t truly hinder any of them during the fight. Being able to predict that every attack would be aimed at him certainly helped, and even though it would likely be a long battle since they were going to have to rely mainly on magic to take it down, he didn’t really foresee them having too much trouble so long as they were all careful.

That changed when the dragon suddenly dropped itself from the sky, subverting all of Eleven’s expectations, and shook the ground harshly enough to knock most of them over, interrupting every attempt at spell casting and leaving them all in a pretty vulnerable state.

He should’ve known not to get too confident, and as he watched the dragon slam its tail into both Jade and Hendrik, sending them skidding across the snowy field, he prayed that Kabuff had been enough to keep them safe.

Those glowing green eyes turned towards him, narrowing in rage, and as the beast charged forward once again, he knew he wasn’t going to be able get out of the way in time. However, he had no intention of just sitting there, of letting himself be killed, and so he forced himself back to his feet.

Just in time to get knocked over as he was tackled for the second time that day by Erik.

They hit the ground hard, and Eleven heard the dragon suddenly roar in pain as fire, ice, and wind began to assail it, chasing it back into the sky and thankfully away from them. For the time being, anyway.

The two of them began to push themselves up, only for the thief to quickly grip his left shoulder and hiss in pain, which made sense. He had not only slammed it into Eleven to push him out of the way but had also fallen pretty heavily on it. Covered in snow or not, the ground beneath them was still hard.

Eleven set his blades down and immediately began healing his friend.

While he was certainly grateful for what the thief had done, he couldn’t help the bit of exasperation that began to seep in.

“You need to stop tackling me,” he said, because he could feel through the touch of his magic that Erik had actually fractured a small part of his shoulder with that last stunt.

“You need to stop almost being eaten,” was the reply he got, which was equally as exasperated. “...And I only knocked you down twice.”

He might’ve smiled at his friend’s petulant response if not for the fact that they were in the middle of a battle.

As soon as Erik was healed to the best of Eleven’s ability (he wasn’t great when it came to broken bones, but thankfully the injury hadn’t been too bad), the two of them got back to their feet and looked up at the dragon. Veronica and Rab were keeping it busy while Serena tended to Jade and Hendrik and Sylvando renewed Acceleratle. He watched the monster weave through the air, trying to avoid the icicles and fireballs sailing towards it.

“What are we supposed to do?” asked Erik. “It’s going to take forever to finish it as this rate, and if we do too much damage without actually killing it, it might just fly off and decide to fight us again later after it’s healed.”

That was a possibility, and one that he hadn’t thought of. If the auroral serpent were to decide that it was losing, it might just leave. It might go off and find a place to rest, to heal its wounds before renewing its attack. They couldn’t allow that to happen. If it left, there was always the possibility that next time it would turn its attention towards Sniflheim. They needed to stop it now, while they more or less had it on the ropes.

“We need something that can reach it,” his partner began thoughtfully, “but also something that will be enough to kill it...oh!”

He turned towards Eleven with an idea clearly written across his face.

“What about that thing you and Rab did, that ancient technique of Angri-La?”

“...Solar Flair?”

“Yeah. Do you think that would be enough?”

He...didn’t know. He honestly didn’t know. Yes, it had killed a boreal serpent in one hit, but this dragon was in a class of its own. They had definitely worn it down quite a lot, but he wasn’t sure if that was enough.

Still though, it was probably their best bet. They needed to stop it before it decided to leave.

“I don’t know,” he said, “but it’s worth a try.”

He looked up at the dragon. It was still distracted with dodging the spells being thrown at it.

Good.

He ran to where Sylvando, Rab, and Veronica were standing.

“Change of plans,” he said before looking to Sylvando and pointing to both himself and Rab. “I need you to cast Oomphle on us.”

The jester’s eyes widened, and Eleven knew it was a strange request, especially since he had previously told both him and Veronica to not bother with that spell, but instead of questioning the Luminary’s rather odd decision, he simply began casting.

“What do ye have in mind, laddie?” his grandfather asked.

“Solar Flair,” he said, earning him another wide-eyed look. “We don’t have a lot that can reach it from here besides magic, and I don’t think it’s going to come down again. If we damage it too much without finishing it off, it might just leave and decide to try again later—but Solar Flair could reach it, and it might just be enough to destroy it too.”

It was a good plan. It was the best they had really, since he was pretty sure that none of them had been a fan of his earlier one (there was a very good chance that he would be yelled at for it later, or lightly scolded in the case of Hendrik since the knight never really “yelled” at him for anything).

“Well, alright then,” said Rab with the same determination that he had shown in Angri-La bleeding into his voice. “Let’s do this.”

“I’ll keep it distracted,” said Veronica as she rained down another Kacrack onto the serpent. “Just don’t take too long.”

Eleven felt the magic of Oomphle flow through him, and then together with Rab, he moved a little further out onto the field and turned to face the dragon.

They were only going to get one shot at this. They needed to make it count.

As Rab began going through the motions for Pearly Gates, Eleven began to gather that unique energy within him that was needed for Quadraslash. He also made sure to keep an eye on the dragon, to make sure that it hadn’t noticed what they were doing. Veronica’s spellcasting was relentless, and the dragon was forced to twist and turn out of the way or be struck from all sides by ice and fire in equal measure. She was going to exhaust all of her magic like that, and so the two of them needed to hurry. The dragon wouldn’t remain distracted forever.

Fortunately, despite only having used it once this time around, the Luminary was confident that they could use this technique whenever it was needed, that the times they had used it together in the future—that experience and knowledge—would transfer over. Eegoltap had given them an incredible gift, and even though he wasn’t really a fan of all the memory bleed that continued to happen, in this at least he was grateful. That blessing had served them well so far, and he knew that they wouldn’t have been even half as successful without it.

Given the kind of foes they were up against, they needed every advantage they could get.

With only a nod in his direction, his grandfather launched Pearly Gates into the air, and the moment it took shape, painting a brilliant white “X” in the sky, Eleven unleased Quadraslash.

The two techniques collided, combined, and then shot off towards the auroral serpent.

The dragon turned, but there wouldn’t be time for it to get out of the way. Its body was too big, and despite being able to fly, it wasn’t fast enough to avoid the attack.

With all the damage they had done to it, this would surely be enough to end the fight, and even from so far away, he could see the beast’s glowing green eyes narrowing in rage.

They had won.

This had to be enough.

“Accursssed Luminary!” the dragon bellowed one last time, loud enough that its roar probably echoed across the entirety of the Snærfelt, right as Solar Flair collided with it.

A large explosion, even greater than the one at Angri-La, erupted in the air above them, bathing the entire clearing in a blinding light. They all turned away, shielding their eyes...but from the corner of his, Eleven caught sight of a shadow.

A very fast shadow.

And by the time he realized what it was, it was already too late.

The auroral serpent, in a last-ditch effort to exact its revenge, had launched a stream of black fire straight towards him.

Breath attacks from monsters weren’t quite the same as magic, although they shared a lot of the same characteristics. They all had a primary type—fire, ice, dark—and being hit by one generally felt the same as being hit by a spell (fire still burned, ice still froze, and dark still felt like being struck with a heavy object and then smothered).

However, unlike spells, they couldn’t be blocked or dampened by Magic Barrier, and in his haste to finish the battle, he had never asked Rab to cast Insulatle.

So when that mass of concentrated dark energy slammed into him, bathing him in miasma, it was almost the equivalent of being hit with a full-force Kazammle. It felt like all the air had been punched from his lungs, or like someone had stabbed him in the chest while using Flame Slash. He fell to his hands and knees as pain began to spread throughout his body, concentrating in his chest, burning a path through him, and he found himself choking on air that was filled with something not that dissimilar to dark magic.

It hurt.

It hurt a lot, and he could hear people calling out to him, could feel a hand on his back and another on his shoulder, but he was too busy just trying to breathe, to not simply pass out in the snow (again) to pay them any mind.

He’s been hit with breath attacks before. He’s been struck with dark magic before too, but he had never had a reaction quite like this, and he realized that the future Rab and Serena really hadn’t been kidding when they told him that being hit in the chest with any kind of spell with dark properties would be excruciatingly painful.

Apparently a dark elemental breath attack counted, and wasn’t that just his luck?

He didn’t even know if the serpent was dead or not. He didn’t have the energy to raise his head to check. It was taking most of his willpower just to remain conscious.

“Hold on, laddie,” he heard his grandfather say, his voice steady despite the worry in it. “It should be over in just a second.”

He felt the calming touch of healing magic, could feel it spreading throughout his entire body, soothing the fire in his veins and easing the irritation in his throat and lungs. Breathing suddenly became easier, and it no longer felt like something was trying to carve a path through his insides. The dark energy that had seeped into him was chased out before it could cause any real damage, before he ended up with even more wounds that couldn’t be healed.

...But the pain in his chest remained. It became marginally less, but it was still very much there. Even as the healing magic slowly faded from his body, it didn’t take the ache along with it, and worse yet, he was pretty sure that his grandfather had noticed.

“Are...are ye still in pain, Eleven?” he asked softly, with a comforting hand upon the Luminary’s back and a good deal of concern plus maybe a bit of alarm in his voice—as it should be, because normally what Rab had done would be enough to remove the effects of the miasma, to soothe any hurt that was caused, and so naturally it wouldn’t make sense to him that his grandson was still in pain.

But the wound on Eleven’s chest wasn’t normal. It had been created with very dark magic, by the act of tearing something very important from his body (perhaps even from his soul), and all things considered, it was still a very new wound. He hadn’t even had it for half a year yet. Of course it was going to be sensitive, and of course a lot of things were going to agitate it, and it certainly didn’t help that it had already been bothering him even before taking a blow to the chest.

It hurt.

It really, really hurt.

But he was going to have to pretend that it didn’t.

“I’m alright,” he said, forcing his voice to come out steady, to not let even a hint of how he really felt bleed into his tone. “It just aches a little. I guess I must’ve pushed myself a bit too hard in that fight.”

He needed to get back to the Salty Stallion. He needed to get back to his room where he had an assortment of medicine and salves, where he could hide away and apply healing magic directly to the places that hurt.

He just needed to hold on for a little while longer. He could manage for a few more minutes at least.

“The dragon?” he asked.

“Gone,” was the response he got from Hendrik. “You and Lord Robert were successful in felling it.”

“Good.” He heaved a deep sigh and then immediately had to fight off the urge to grimace. “That’s good.”

...He was going to have to get up.

He honestly wasn’t sure if he could.

Taking a fortifying breath, he clenched his jaw in the hopes of not letting his discomfort show on his face and began to move.

He managed to get his feet under him, but just as he was about ready to try and force himself upright, the hand on his shoulder that he hadn’t paid any attention to until now shifted, and he suddenly found his right arm being grabbed and gently pulled over a set of shoulders. His left was quickly taken as well by another set of hands, and he turned his head both ways to see Erik and Jade at his sides.

“How about you stop being an idiot,” said Erik, his voice pitched low, just shy of a whisper, where only Eleven and Jade would be able to hear him. “We can tell you’re still in pain. You don’t have to pretend with us, you know.”

He knew that. He really did, but...

But he couldn’t let them find out why he was still hurting, why healing him hadn’t been enough. Pretending was easier

If Serena or Rab were to ask to look over him once they got back to Sniflheim, he wasn’t sure what he would do. Rejecting their offer would make everyone suspicious, surely.

...His chest was really starting to hurt. He was also cold and tired, and he wanted very much to go back to the Salty Stallion, back to his nice, safe, warm room where he could take a ton of medicine and then fall into bed for a few hours.

That sounded like a good idea. If he played his cards right, he could probably write off his current state as exhaustion and convince everyone that all he needed was some rest. They could do without him for a while as he tended to himself.

Yeah...that would work.

“Sorry,” he said to Erik just as quietly, earning him a sigh in response.

“Let’s just get you back on your feet so you can zoom us to Sniflheim.”

He nodded in agreement and then braced himself as his two friends slowly helped him up, taking most of his weight as they got him back on his feet. They held on to him until they seemed certain that he wouldn’t just fall right back down into the snow, and then somewhat reluctantly, they let him go. He couldn’t help but notice that they both stayed very close by, however, and in addition to the two of them, everyone else was watching him worriedly as well.

He hoped he didn’t look as worn out as he felt (he probably did).

Without a word, Eleven began casting Zoom. The magic whisked them out of the Snærfelt and set them safely down on the docks just outside the city.

...Their ship was right there.

It was right there, but he knew they needed to report back to Frysabel, to let her know that her kingdom was safe once again, and making her wait for several hours when she had been worrying nonstop for weeks was kind of unfair, but—

He felt a hand settle against his lower back, giving him a gentle push towards the Salty Stallion. He glanced back and looked down into the worried but very supportive face of his grandfather.

“Eleven, why don’t ye head back to yer room and rest for a bit, alright?” he suggested. “I’m sure ye could use it. I think ye’ve done enough for one day. Leave reporting back to the queen to us. We don’t all need to go to the castle just to share the good news.”

He wanted to object. It was kind of in his nature to. He was the Luminary. He should be able to handle this. If they went to talk to Frysabel without him after he promised to help her, she would surely ask where he was, and they would probably tell her the truth.

He didn’t want to worry anyone...but he also knew that right now, no matter what action he chose to take, he would end up worrying someone. It was probably better to just focus on taking care of himself for once. He was rapidly approaching the limit to his tolerance.

“Alright,” he agreed, and because he knew that if he apologized he would likely be yelled at (probably by Veronica), he offered a quiet “thanks” instead before heading towards their ship.

As he made his way up the gangplank and onto the deck, he turned and watched the rest of his party to make sure that they were all heading into the city, that no one had suddenly changed their mind and decided to follow after him instead.

As soon as he was certain that he was alone, he made a beeline for the cabin door.

Once he was safely below deck, he took a deep breath and began making his way to his room, frantically undoing the buckles on his tunic as he went. He rushed down the stairs, stumbled down the hall, and almost fell into his room as he shouldered the door open, immediately discarding his belt, his bag, and his purple duster on the floor as he made his way over to the full-length mirror next to his dresser. As soon as he was in front of it, he pulled his shirt over his head, took a quick look at the scar on his back—unchanged, which made sense given that it wasn’t really hurting—and then turned to examine what still looked very much like a gaping wound on his chest.

It was red and irritated around the edges, which was what he had expected, and as he placed his left hand over it and began to press more healing magic directly into the parts that were hurting, he used his right hand to start rummaging through the middle drawer of his dresser. He grabbed a box full of various medicinal herbs and shoved a few in his mouth before digging for one of the salves he had bought from a merchant in Gondolia. Upon telling the man what he was looking for, something that could both numb pain and keep scarred skin from cracking in cold, dry weather (with maybe a bit of magical healing properties for good measure), he had been given several small containers for half their normal price—a discount for the person who had saved the charming seaside town from near destruction.

He had yet to actually try any of them, but hopefully they would work as well as the merchant had claimed.

He grabbed one of the jars, took a seat on his bed, and got to work.

All things considered, he had gotten pretty good at taking care of himself. He was still nowhere near as capable as Rab or Serena when it came to medicine and treating wounds, but he had learned enough to get by, to be able to handle his own injuries when need be, which was good because what he was doing now wasn’t something he would ever be able to ask anyone else to help him with. Sure, reaching the scar on his back was difficult, but thankfully it didn’t tend to bother him that much. It was starting to feel tight, but he hadn’t seen any irritation surrounding it, so tending to it wasn’t an immediate need.

The one on his chest, however...

He was probably going to be dealing with that one for a long time to come yet. He knew that time would make it easier, that it would likely fade more as he got older, that twenty or thirty years down the road it might stop bothering him entirely, but right now it was definitely an issue, for more reasons than one.

The pain, the secrecy, the need to always be mindful, to not give anything away... It was exhausting. It would be so much easier if he didn’t have to worry about it, if he didn’t need to hide, but he knew that wasn’t an option, because if any of his friends were to find out, if they were to ever see it, then they would definitely ask questions, and this was one thing that he simply couldn’t explain.

There was not a single lie or excuse in his repertoire that he could use (it’s not like he had that many to begin with anyway).

If someone were to...

If someone were to find out, he wasn’t sure what he would...

How do you explain something that has no explanation, that technically didn’t even happen?

He had undone it. He had shattered time and erased it, so why did he...

Why was he...

Time was supposed to heal all wounds, so...

...So why hadn’t it healed him?

He screwed the cap back onto his jar of salve, stood up, and stepped in front of the mirror.

It looked better. Most of the red was gone, and the skin was no longer dry and irritated. It felt a lot better too, the pain having died down to just a dull ache which would likely fade with a good night’s sleep.

It was way too early to turn in for the day; it wasn’t even time for dinner yet...but maybe he could just lie down for a bit and take a short nap. They had several long days ahead of them, and he could certainly use the extra rest. No one would fault him for that, surely.

He went to his dresser and began to look for a sleep shirt.

...Later, he would curse himself for his stupidity.

After almost two months of careful planning, of being cautious, of avoiding situations where he could be seen like this—keeping track of time, of room accommodations, sleeping in his traveling clothes when necessary and sometimes even by accident...

After two months of constantly watching his back, of never letting down his guard, of consistently being mindful, the one place he had always felt safe was his room aboard the Salty Stallion.

...But in his haste, he forgot to close the door.

And there was one among his group who he could never hear coming, who regularly snuck up on him, who always took it upon himself to look after him.

There was one among them who he should’ve known would decide to head back to the ship.

(Because not all of them needed to go to the castle).

He didn’t hear the footsteps until they were right outside his door.

And for perhaps the first time in their friendship, the sound of that voice calling out to him filled him with dread instead of content.

“Hey, El. Serena wants to know if you...”

The words trailed off, ending in a sharp gasp, and Eleven froze.

There truly weren’t words to describe the feeling that swept over him in that moment.

He had his back to the door, his sleep shirt bunched up in his arms, and he very quickly tried to put it on, to salvage the situation as best he could, but the damage was already done.

Erik was across the room in an instant, hands gripping the Luminary’s arms and preventing him from his desperate attempt to hide the rather damning scar on his back.

Eleven aborted his attempt to put on his shirt and instead pulled his arms close to his chest, using the fabric to hopefully shield the worst of his two wounds from view as he frantically tried to think of a way out of this.

...He had nothing.

He had absolutely nothing.

“Where did you get this?” The words were hurried, almost harsh in their concern, and before Eleven could even open his mouth, the hands holding on to him gripped a little tighter. “And don’t tell me you don’t know. I know what this is. There’s no way you wouldn’t remember.”

He had known that Erik would recognize it.

He had known, and that was why he had taken such great pains to avoid this situation.

Lying wasn’t going to work, but he had to tell him something...

“I...” he began as he racked his brain for literally anything that would work, anything that could get him out of this but also answer that question. In the end, all he found was something close to the truth. “...From the fight with Jasper.”

Erik was behind him, and so he couldn’t actually see his face, but because of where they were standing, he was able to glance to the side and into his mirror.

From the corner of his eye, he watched as worry and anger became surprise.

“That can’t...” And then surprise quickly fell into disbelief and irritation. “You couldn’t have. I would’ve noticed if you’d been...”

“No one noticed.” It wasn’t a lie. Back in the future, no one had seen the knight until it was too late. “A lot was going on in that fight.”

The thief was silent for a moment, but the hands holding him in place didn’t loosen.

“...You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. I know you, El. You’ve always been a bad liar. You didn’t get this when we fought Jasper at the World Tree.”

“I did.” Just not this time around.

“El...”

He couldn’t keep doing this.

He was tired and sore; his head was starting to hurt and his nerves were starting to fray—and being interrogated wasn’t helping—and he was trying very, very hard to keep his breathing even, to keep his voice steady, to not simply collapse into a ball of panic and worry despite the pit of anxiety that was opening in his stomach and the lump slowly rising in his throat.

“I gave you an answer,” he said softly. “What more do you want from me?”

He tried to shrug out of the hold that Erik had on him.

“Now will you please let me go?”

“El, I’m just trying to... Wait, what is...?”

That sharp note of horror in his friend’s voice immediately sent a bolt of alarm through him, and as he glanced into the mirror to try and figure out what was going on, he saw Erik looking into it with wide eyes...and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

He hadn’t been careful enough.

The top of his scar from Mordegon was clearly visible on his chest, peeking out above his folded arms. In his attempt to pull away from the hands keeping him in place, he had shifted his shirt away from the wound.

His heart began to race as everything in him seized, and for just a moment his mind went completely blank.

...What was he supposed to do?

What was he supposed to do?

He tried to move his arms up to keep the scar from view, to do whatever he could to hide his secret—the one thing he hadn’t wanted anyone to see—but it was too late, and that simple motion knocked Erik out of whatever stupor he had fallen into.

Without warning, the Luminary found himself being spun around.

“E-Erik, wait...!”

And the shirt that he had been clinging so tightly to was pulled from his arms.

He didn’t know how to describe the look being directed at him. Shocked didn’t quite do it justice. Horrified was perhaps closer, was maybe a better way to define the wide-eyed, gaping look—the way the color drained from his face and unbridled concern flooded his eyes, and how he hesitantly reached out with one shaking hand as if to touch the damaged flesh only to think better of it and let it fall back to his side.

It was an ugly wound. Eleven knew that.

The skin was rough and discolored and puckered, positioned directly over his heart.

He wasn’t exactly ashamed of it, per se, but at the same time...

At the same time...

Being stared at like that...he would’ve given almost anything to be able to erase it.

He could feel his hands starting to shake.

He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t deal with this.

He couldn’t deal with this.

What was he supposed to do?

“What...what is this?” Erik asked, worry and shock and horror at war in his voice.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, and he didn’t know what to do, and so Eleven answered the only way he could.

“It’s nothing.”

The look of incredulity that earned him was more than warranted.

“It’s not nothing—El, it looks like someone tried to...”

It looked like someone tried to reach into his chest and tear something out.

Because that was exactly what had happened.

...He couldn’t do this. He just couldn’t do this.

The fear and the panic, the desire to run, to just cast Zoom and disappear...

The desperation and the anxiety and the want for everything to stop, for time to unwind just those few precious minutes so he could go back and undo his stupid, careless mistake, it was just...it was too much.

He could feel something deep within him start to crack, and as he tried to push it all away, tried to avoid the inevitable breakdown that was probably long overdue—the abject terror of everything he had been hiding being dragged into the open—a strange thing began to happen.

In an attempt to protect himself, to keep from falling apart, a wave of apathy washed over him.

He took a breath, and when he spoke, his words were painfully even.

“I said it’s nothing.”

The eyes looking back at him narrowed in a slowly mounting anger.

“Would you stop saying that?! Dammit, El, a wound like this could’ve...! How are you even still...?”

Erik couldn’t seem to bring himself to say it, but that was alright because Eleven didn’t want to hear it.

He knew what it looked like.

He knew that under normal circumstances, he probably wouldn’t have survived.

“Where did you even get this? I’ve been with you this whole time, and I don’t remember you ever being...”

Erik ran a hand through his hair as a frustrated growl escaped him.

“Would you just tell me what the hell happened?”

He wanted this conversation to be over.

It wanted it over with now.

“Please just drop it, Erik,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice from wavering. “It’s not any of your business what happened, so—”

“Not any of my... What the hell, Eleven?!”

He flinched back.

That hadn’t come out right.

That hadn’t come out right at all, and he didn’t know how to fix it, how to make this stop when every word out of his mouth was just making things worse, and hearing his full name spoken in that tone and that voice immediately sent a fresh wave of panic through him.

Erik almost never used his full name. He had started calling him “El” pretty early on in their partnership and generally only called him “Eleven” when he was trying to get his attention (usually as a warning, usually if there was an immediate danger). He had heard his name spoken urgently and fearfully and a couple times very softly, but he’s never heard it quite like that before, with so much indignation and disappointment and frustration.

And underneath it all, underneath the fire and the anger was something that he had never wanted to see, something that he hated himself for putting there.

Hurt.

A bone-deep hurt, wrapped up in loss and betrayal and confusion.

He hated it.

He wanted this to stop.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said as the last shreds of his composure started to unravel.

He just wanted it to stop.

“It does matter! El, what—”

Erik reached for him, just like he always did, just like he had that morning in the cave and again in the back room of the church.

A physical connection, because despite everything, Erik was a tactile person.

And in his panic, Eleven smacked his hand away.

...In that instant, something between them changed, and the look that crossed his partner’s face almost made him feel sick.

He hadn’t thought that look of hurt could get any worse.

He was wrong.

He was so very wrong.

And amidst his panic and fear and that desperate need to keep everything hidden, to not let any of them find out about what he had done—the price of his failure, the fall of the world, the loss of a friend—was an almost equally desperate need to fix this.

He needed to fix what he had just broken, to salvage the situation, to give Erik something, anything, to take that look off his face...but before he could think of a single thing to say, before he could even open his mouth to try, he saw his friend’s hands clench so tightly that they began to shake...and then just like that, they released.

His back straightened, his expression hardened, and a wall came down between them, hiding away every emotion behind sharp blue eyes that always, always saw too much.

When he finally spoke, the words fell listlessly.

“Fine then. If that’s how you feel, then just...fine. Whatever.”

“E-Erik—”

“I thought that maybe you...that we... You said before that you trusted us, trusted me, but...I guess that was just a lie, huh. I guess it doesn’t actually go both ways.”

He turned away and began heading for the door.

“Go ahead and keep your secrets.”

“Erik, wai—”

“I don’t care anymore.”

His breath caught, and all the words he wanted to say died on his lips.

In the end, he could do nothing but watch as instead of being slammed in anger, the door to his room closed quietly with a gentle, lonely click.

And in the silence that Erik had left in his wake, Eleven could hear the pieces of his carefully constructed world start to crumble.

Chapter Text

Chapter 23: An Uncomfortable Silence

He doesn’t know why he came here.

He honestly doesn’t know. It’s not like it mattered where he went—his location wasn’t going to change the way he felt, he just...needed to get away for a while, and this was the only place he could think of where no one would bother him, where he might be able to find some small semblance of peace.

So far he had found nothing but a deep ache in his chest, like something had been torn from it all over again.

It was amazing in a way just how quickly everything could fall apart.

Eleven huddled in on himself, pulling his legs up close to his chest and pressing his forehead against his knees. The moss and leaves were soft beneath him, and the heart of Yggdrasil was warm at his back, bathing the area in a soft golden light.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

What was he supposed to do?

With just a single, stupid mistake, he had ruined everything.

He had ruined everything.

The look Erik gave him before turning away...

He hugged himself a little tighter and released a shuddering breath.

Ever since going back in time, Eleven had been trying very hard not to disappoint anyone, not to be found wanting. He had worried about it a lot in the beginning, and although that fear had lessened after failing Drustan’s trial and realizing that his friends didn’t need him to be perfect—nor were they expecting that of him—it was still there in the back of his mind, that voice telling him that if they were to ever find out about what had happened, about how he had let the world be destroyed, they would stop believing in him.

They would leave him.

(He knows that isn’t true, but the fear is there nonetheless).

He can’t let them know, because he’s afraid of their disappointment. He’s afraid of letting them all down. He wants them to believe that they can do this, that they can save the world. He doesn’t want them to think about failing, to have to carry the same worry and pain that he did.

They don’t deserve to be weighed down by the burden of his failure.

...But the look that Erik had given him was so much worse than disappointment, and Eleven couldn’t help but feel like he might have just lost something that he could never get back.

What was he supposed to do?

There was no way to undo it, for Erik to unsee what he had seen. One of the biggest secrets that Eleven had been keeping was out there now, and there was nothing he could do about it. He had run away for the moment, but sooner or later, he was going to have to face reality.

Sooner or later, he was going to have to face his friend.

Because there was no way that Erik was going to let this go. There was no way he would just forget about it or put it aside. This wasn’t the same as what happened in Cobblestone, because this time Eleven had refused to open up, had completely shut down every attempt that his partner had made to ask him about what had happened.

Erik had been mad at him. He’d been legitimately angry, which almost never happened, and perhaps the worst part about it all was that he knew Erik’s anger came from a place of worry (because it almost always did). He had been concerned and afraid, had probably been frantically trying to piece together what had happened and when it had happened and how he could’ve possibly missed it happening, and Eleven just...didn’t have an answer for him.

Not one that he was willing to give, anyway.

He had known that going back in time wasn’t going to be easy, but...

He had never expected it to hurt quite like this, and he wished that he could just turn around and bury himself in Yggdrasil’s light—that gentle, comforting warmth—and simply cease to be for a while.

Just for a little while.

“...What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to fix this?”

She didn’t have an answer for him, because that had never been how this worked. He had to figure things out on his own.

...What if Erik never spoke to him again? What if the thief didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore?

What if they could never go back to the way things were, to that easy friendship that he had come to rely on so much throughout his journey?

What if Eleven couldn’t fix this? What if Erik had really meant what he said about not caring anymore?

...What if he left?

Eleven bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut a little tighter.

It felt like he was coming undone.

Every lie he had told, every secret he had kept, everything that he had piled up felt like it was just one small push from toppling over.

What was he supposed to do?

...It was getting late.

The sun was starting to set, and he knew he needed to go back, that eventually everyone would start to worry about where he had gone—he hadn’t even told anyone that he was leaving—but the idea of facing his friends after what had happened...

What if Erik were to tell them about what he had seen? What if they all confronted him about it?

What if they cornered him just like Erik had, just like they all did that night in Gondolia?

Just the thought of it was...

His breath caught and his chest tightened, and it was starting to feel like he couldn’t breathe—but before he could sink too far down, before he could unravel into a mass of anxiety, he heard the sudden sound of wind rushing and felt the air fill with a very distinct type of magic.

He raised his head and watched in a mixture of surprise and trepidation as a familiar blue light descended into the clearing, swirling along the ground.

Zoom.

Someone had cast Zoom.

And there was only one person it could be. There was literally only one other person in the entire world besides him who could use that spell to reach the World Tree.

He sucked in a sharp breath as the light faded, and in its wake, the self-proclaimed “sage of Arboria and mighty magician” was set gently down on the moss-covered ground.

Veronica.

What was she doing here? How had she found him? He hadn’t told anyone where he was going...

Those sharp, clever eyes immediately turned to him, and although they narrowed a bit in what was probably irritation, the look on her face was something he hadn’t really seen before, something that he couldn’t quite place.

Despite being trapped in the body of a child and easily having the shortest temper out of all of them, there had always been a kind of strange composure that she held, something that could easily be mistaken as haughty arrogance by those who didn’t know her well. However, in reality it was so much more than that, more than just an air of superiority, more than just pride or condescension or a need to appear put-together and mature.

He had seen Veronica at her most vulnerable, the moment before she died, where she had thought only of saving the rest of them and not at all about herself.

There was so much more to her than just what people saw on the surface.

“So this is where you ran off to,” she said as she began walking towards him.

“Veronica...” he began with a voice that thankfully didn’t tremble the way he had been expecting it to, “why are you...? How did you...?”

“I guessed,” she told him, as if it were just that simple.

...He wasn’t sure if he trusted this, that air of nonchalance. A part of him was expecting her to ask him what he thought he was doing and then call him an idiot (it certainly wouldn’t be the first time), but instead of yelling at him, instead of chewing him out or interrogating him, the fiery little mage walked up to the heart of the World Tree and then proceeded to sit down right next to him.

When she leaned her back very carefully against the vines, Yggdrasil didn’t reject her. Eleven found that he wasn’t really surprised by that given everything that she had done, not just for him but for Erdrea.

She deserved to be welcome here.

(Probably more than he did).

“Since you apparently decided to run off without telling anyone,” she continued, “I figured you would either be here or in Cobblestone. I tried asking Erik if he knew, but he practically bit my head off.”

He couldn’t help but flinch at the mention of his partner before sucking in a sharp breath and averting his gaze to the ground.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Veronica giving him a curious look.

“Did you two have a fight or something?” she asked.

There was little point in lying to her about it. Everyone was going to find out eventually.

“Kind of,” he admitted, and he tried his best not to sound as heartbroken about it as he actually felt. That was not a conversation he wanted to get into, not with anyone. “He’s mad at me.”

Her eyes narrowed a bit, but he was pretty sure that her irritation wasn’t directed towards him.

“Well, that’s his own problem,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Let him be mad. He’ll get over it eventually.”

...I’m not sure he will.

A lump began to rise in his throat.

He couldn’t say that.

He couldn’t, because if he did, she would obviously want to know why he felt that way and what the two of them had fought about and why Erik was mad at him, and he just...can’t.

He can’t.

And he prayed to anyone who would listen that Veronica wouldn’t try to confront the thief about it. Erik didn’t deserve her anger, because what had happened was Eleven’s fault. He should’ve been more careful. He should’ve handled the situation better, should’ve come up with a plan ages ago in case anyone were to figure things out, but unfortunately his ability to lie and pretend left a lot to be desired. From the beginning he had been doing a poor job of managing his panic and fear. He was constantly being asked if he was alright, if something was wrong, if he wanted to talk about it, and that hadn’t been the case prior to Yggdrasil falling, and he knew that his friends had been growing more and more suspicious of some of his actions, not to mention some of his reactions.

Because he rarely reacted to things the way he should, the way he did the first time around, the way that any normal person who didn’t travel through time would have.

He needed to do better.

...But he didn’t know how.

(And it was far too late for him to start trying now).

The mage sitting next to him sighed, and he glanced over at her to see that she was looking around the alcove as if she were trying to take everything in. There was definitely some awe there, as well as curiosity, but what struck him the most was the almost calm, serene expression on her face, a look that he more often associated with Serena and not so much with their fiery little spellcaster.

He kind of wanted to ask her what she was thinking about, but before he could find his voice, she began speaking...and the words that came out of her mouth almost made his heart stop.

“You know,” she began, “the first time we came here, it didn’t really feel like the ‘first’ time. For some reason, I couldn’t help but feel like we had all been here before. I still feel that way. When I look at the heart of Yggdrasil, I can’t help thinking that something important happened here, something we all forgot about.”

He lowered his head, shielding his face from view, because he couldn’t let her see the reaction those words had drawn from him, couldn’t let her see how pale he probably was, how his lip was trembling and his eyes were watering despite how tightly he had them closed.

It was too much.

He couldn’t fall apart here, but he just didn’t know what to do.

Why couldn’t everything just stop?

He heard a deep sigh come from next to him.

“Look, El, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you. And even though now’s probably not the best time, I don’t know when I’ll get another chance like this.”

Despite everything that was going wrong and all of the emotions he was trying to avoid, he couldn’t help that spark of curiosity, that desire to know, especially when she didn’t continue right away. She seemed to be waiting for him to respond.

“...What is it?” he asked hesitantly.

He could hear her shifting next to him, but he refused to lift his head. His face would give too much away.

Her words, when they came, were both expected and not.

“I know that you’re hiding something,” she said, “that you’ve been hiding something for a while now, ever since we arrived in Arboria.”

He sucked in a sharp breath and tried not to choke on it.

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“You are,” she told him with absolute certainly. “It’s obvious you are, and I think I’m close to figuring it out. I just need a little more time to put the pieces together.”

He hugged himself even tighter and took a shaky breath.

He couldn’t take this anymore.

“...Why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” she began, and he braced himself as best he could for her answer, “I’ve decided not to ask you about it.”

...That...

That was not at all what he had been expecting, and he found himself raising his head and turning to look at the mage in shock.

“What?” he asked, and for just a moment he wondered if he had actually heard her right. Out of all of them, he had always assumed that Veronica would be the one who would pursue the truth the most relentlessly, who wouldn’t allow him to get away with keeping his silence, who would press him for information and ignore all of his attempts to get out of it. She was stubborn and determined, was unafraid to call people out when she thought that someone was being an idiot, and she never let any of them get away with anything.

But here she was, telling Eleven that she wouldn’t question him, that she was going to let him be.

Why?

“I’ve done a lot of thinking ever since the battle with Mordegon,” she said, still with that almost tranquil look on her face and spoken in a voice that hinted at a wisdom well beyond her years. “And even though I know you’re keeping something from us, I really don’t think bothering you about it will accomplish anything. Yes, sometimes a good push is necessary, but something tells me that’s not the case here.”

She turned to look at him with clear eyes, and in their depths he found something that he wasn’t expecting.

Understanding.

“You’ve never tried to force any of us to talk about the things we don’t want to. You’ve always just let us come to you in our own time. You’re a lot more patient than most people. I mean, we all knew that something was wrong with Erik on our way to Sniflheim, but instead of confronting him about it, you waited until he was ready.”

She looked away from him, closed her eyes, and tipped her head back to rest against the vines.

“So I’ve decided to wait too, no matter how long it takes. Whatever it is you’re hiding, you can tell us when you’re ready.”

“...And what if I’m never ready?”

“You will be one day. I’m sure of it.”

He could feel a lump once again rising in this throat, but this time for a very different reason.

He wanted to cry.

He wanted to pull her into a hug and cry, because after everything that had happened, everything he had been through, that was quite possibly the kindest thing that any of them could’ve said to him.

Veronica had her eyes closed, and he was maybe a little bit grateful for that, because he probably looked like a complete mess as he was overcome with gratitude for the little mage at his side.

He really had missed her. He had missed her so much, and no matter what happened, no matter the hardships he would still be forced to endure, he would never regret his decision to shatter time and try again. Even though everything had been over, even though he had been done—he could’ve lived a peaceful life in a world that was healing—going back had been worth it to recover what was lost. Even if Veronica’s had been the only life he was able to save, that would’ve been reason enough to try.

She had sacrificed herself for him, for all of them, for Erdrea.

How could he possibly do anything less?

Even if he didn’t make it out of this alive, even if destroying Calasmos ended up taking everything he had, as long as the people he loved survived, that was all he cared about. That was all that mattered.

He hoped it would never come down to that. He very much wanted to live in the world he was trying to create, but if the cost for that future was his life, then he would pay it gladly.

He was the Luminary. It was a fair price given how much had been lost.

And he had no intention of letting anyone else die in his place again.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and for the first time since arriving at the World Tree, he felt some of the panic that had been bubbling in his chest finally start to settle.

“Thank you, Veronica,” he said, pouring all of the gratitude he felt into his words. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“Yes, well, just keep in mind that this doesn’t mean I’m not going to bother you if you decide to be an idiot about something. It’s still my job to protect you after all.”

He couldn’t help but laugh a bit at that.

“I’ll try to be more careful,” he promised. “I know I’ve been bad at that lately.”

“More than just ‘lately,’ but it’s fine. I’m used to you getting yourself into trouble by this point. You certainly keep us on our toes, that’s for sure.”

“Sorry,” he said, and despite everything that was still wrong and everything he still needed to fix, he couldn’t stop a small smile from spreading across his face.

He received a pleased hum in response, and when no further words followed, he allowed himself to relax just a bit, to let a little of what he had been holding on to go.

It really was very peaceful here, and although he had been having a hard time finding that peace when he first arrived, he could feel himself sinking into it now.

What he wouldn’t give to spend the rest of his day like this...

The two of them sat in a companionable silence, just listening to the wind rustling the leaves and feeling that gentle warmth at their backs. The light of Yggdrasil made everything around them shine, casting a beautiful, ethereal glow across the entire alcove, and he honestly could’ve remained exactly as he was for hours without requiring anything more...but Eleven knew it was getting late. He had lost track of just how long he had been sitting there, and he was well aware that the longer he stayed away, the more everyone would worry. He wasn’t sure what Veronica might’ve told them all before zooming herself to the World Tree to look for him, but he hoped they weren’t too concerned about his disappearance. In hindsight, he should’ve left a note in his room or something, but his mind had been too frazzled, too focused on just getting away that the thought hadn’t even occurred to him.

If they asked him why he ran away, what was he supposed to tell them? It’s not like he could give them the truth, after all.

Would they understand if he said that he had just wanted to be alone for a while?

They would probably question why he had felt the need to go all the way to Yggdrasil for that...

He wasn’t good at this. Surely there had to be something he could tell them, something that would make sense but also let him avoid having to explain himself.

Because no matter what, he absolutely was not going to tell everyone that he had run away because he and Erik had a fight. That was a bad idea on a lot of levels, because not only would it lead to all of them questioning them both about why they had fought, it would also probably result in most of them trying to fix it.

He didn’t want that.

This was a problem of his own making, and so he needed to fix it himself.

He just wasn’t sure how yet.

He needed more time to think.

Time that he unfortunately didn’t have.

What was he supposed to—

“Hey El, can I ask you something?”

Pulled from his slowly spiraling thoughts, he raised his head and turned to look at Veronica. She was glancing around the alcove again.

“I...sure. What is it?” She had already promised not to ask him about what he was hiding, so whatever question she had was probably safe.

“Why did you decide to come here? I actually kind of expected you to be in Cobblestone if I’m completely honest.”

That made sense, he supposed. He loved his home and his family, and under normal circumstances he probably would go to them if he was upset, but...

But Yggdrasil was the only other being on all of Erdrea who understood, who knew, and who wouldn’t ask him questions or judge him for having an emotional breakdown. He could talk to Her without fear, without worry, and while She couldn’t exactly talk back to him or offer advice, sometimes all he really needed was just someone to listen.

“It’s peaceful here,” he said, because it was. “I just needed a place where I could be alone for a while, that’s all. I honestly wasn’t expecting anyone to follow me, but...I’m glad you did. I wasn’t really doing that well on my own.”

“...Was your fight with Erik really that bad?” she asked, sounding rather surprised, which made sense. The two of them had never really fought before. Sure, they didn’t always see eye to eye (mostly because they had very different opinions on whose safety was a priority), but that had never really been an issue.

They were friends. Partners.

From the very beginning, the two of them had just clicked, had gotten along like two people who had known each other for years instead of just a few days. He wanted to believe that this wouldn’t be enough to ruin that, to undermine all that they had been through and all the time they had spent together, but...

But he couldn’t get that look that Erik had given him out of his head.

“...Yes.”

“Can you tell me what it was about?”

He shook his head.

“Well, I still think he’ll come around eventually. I can’t really picture him staying mad at you.”

That made one of them, at least.

“Listen, I know you probably still want to be alone for a while, but it’s getting late, and Jade and Sylvando were going to try their hand at cooking some of the local cuisine. You haven’t eaten anything since lunch, so I know you’re hungry. I get not wanting to face everyone right now, but you can’t hide up here forever.”

He heaved a deep sigh.

“I know.” He really did, but that didn’t mean he had to like it, and it didn’t make the thought of forcing himself to interact with everyone when all he really wanted to do was collapse into bed and just stop thinking for a while any more appealing.

He was getting hungry though. Veronica wasn’t wrong.

“How about this?” the mage began as she got to her feet and turned to him. “If you don’t feel up to seeing anyone tonight, you can just go back to your room and I’ll have Sylvando bring you something down when it’s ready. I’ll even handle explaining to everyone why you ran away.”

...That seemed a little too good to be true, honestly.

“What will you tell them?”

“That you and Erik had a fight, and that’s why you’re both sulking in your rooms.”

“Veronica...”

“Well, what else do you want me to tell them?” she asked, and there was that haughtiness he had grown so familiar with. “It’s not like I’m wrong. And even if I don’t tell them, unless the two of you are going to fix this tonight, they’re going to figure it out tomorrow when they see that you’re not talking to each other.”

He...hadn’t really thought about that. It was going to be pretty obvious, wasn’t it.

Still though...

“I just...I’d rather you not say anything about it right now.” He needed some time to figure this out, and having other people involved would only complicate things, especially when they wouldn’t have the full story, because Eleven had no intention of telling anyone what the fight had actually been about. All of them trying to help would only make matters worse.

Erik had every right to be angry with him. He had handled the situation poorly, had said a lot of things that he didn’t mean to. He had given in to that well of anxiety that was always there, just waiting below the surface, and just like he always knew it would, his inability to handle it had cost him.

Back in Cobblestone, Erik had told him that he could come to him for anything, that no matter what it was, he would listen, and Eleven had assured him that he knew that, that he trusted him, but...

In the end, he had pushed him away—out of fear and panic and a desperate need to keep all of them from finding out, from realizing just how badly he had let them down, just how much had been lost and how much they could still lose, because if he had failed once, then he could easily fail again.

He knows they won’t leave him.

He knows that.

(But he just can’t quiet that voice in the back of his head).

Some of his thought’s must’ve bled onto his face, because Veronica gave him a look, heaved a very put-upon sounding sigh, and gave in.

“Fine, have it your way,” she said. “I won’t tell them about it. But this means you’re on your own. When they all realize that something happened between you two, don’t expect me to help you.”

He sighed in relief.

“Thanks, Veronica.”

...It was probably about time he went back.

Eleven slowly got to his feet, stretching out his arms and legs as he went—he had been sitting there like that for probably a couple hours at least—before he turned around and placed his hand against the heart of Yggdrasil. It pulsed gently, and it almost seemed like the light became a little brighter.

“Thanks for putting up with me,” he said softly. “And I promise that the next time I see you, it won’t be just to complain. I’ll try to do better, Yggdrasil.” And then much more quietly, he added, “I won’t let you down this time.”

With a deep breath, he lowered his hand and turned back to Veronica.

“I’m ready.”

And as the magic of Zoom took him, he made the decision that just for tonight, he would try to let things go.

He would worry about everything tomorrow, after he’d had a chance to eat, rest, and heal. Everything was still too close to the surface. He needed time to unwind, to process, and to figure something out.

But at the very least, it was nice to know that he wasn’t alone.

Because even though Veronica had told him that he was on his own with this, even though she said that she wouldn’t help, the feeling of her hand in his said otherwise.

He was going to trust her that things would get better, that Erik wouldn’t stay mad, that he could still fix this.

He just needed to have a little faith.

He had never been very good at that, not lately at least, but...well...

It was never too late to try, right?

This was quite possibly one of the most awkward treks across any region that they had ever taken.

While silence wasn’t exactly uncommon between them—there was no point in talking if no one had anything to really say—it wasn’t really “common” either. Sylvando and Serena both liked to chat, and the healer in particular enjoyed commenting on their surroundings from time to time, pointing out unique rock formations or watching some of the cuter monsters frolic and chase each other around (the sabercubs in particular were some of her favorites), but there was none of that today.

There was no chatting, no whispering, no quiet conversations, just the crunching of the snow beneath their shoes as they made their way along the snowy ridge and towards the Royal Library.

Eleven would’ve loved to be able to do something to alleviate the tension that had settled over them, but given that he was part of the problem, there wasn’t really much he could do.

Erik was avoiding him.

He had been avoiding him ever since he walked out of the Luminary’s room two days ago.

Originally Eleven’s plan had been to head to the library yesterday, but after being vetoed by more than half his party, he had consented to taking one more day to rest before venturing back out into the Snærfelt. It’s not like he hadn’t needed it, and it had definitely given him some time to think, but it had also been rather lonely.

He wasn’t used to being left alone.

He was used to being sought out, either on the deck or in the kitchen or sometimes even in his room, but despite still existing on the same ship, he hadn’t caught even a glimpse of Erik.

He had gone to bed hoping that the next day would be different, because if they were traveling to the library, then the thief couldn’t actually avoid him. They would be forced to occupy the same space, and maybe then his partner would feel like talking to him.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t quite worked out like that.

Erik hadn’t said a single word to him all morning, and as they made their way through the Snærfelt, he was trailing so far behind their group to the point where it was no longer just Eleven that he was ignoring.

He still looked kind of angry, but at least it was milder than before. However, he was definitely giving off an air that implied he wanted to be left alone, and that if anyone tried to talk to him, they would probably regret it.

Erik never walked behind him. From the beginning, his friend had always walked next to him, and it was weird looking over to the side and seeing a different shade of green, to see black hair instead of blue, and as much as he loved his sister and appreciated her for not leaving him at the head of their party all by himself, his heart still hurt a bit when he saw her there. It was proof of the fact that something had changed, that things weren’t as they should be, and perhaps the worst part about it all was that everyone had noticed (it was kind of hard not to, and it was also the reason that Jade was walking next to him in the first place). Just like Veronica had said, it didn’t take them long to figure it out.

Though to be fair, a lot of things that Eleven had expected to happen upon his return to the Salty Stallion just...didn’t happen.

To begin with, no one had bothered him about where he had gone, about running away. There had been a few looks of concern, a few attempts to lift his spirts, but for the most part no one had said anything, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Veronica had told them all not to. It wouldn’t surprise him, really. Her tongue was sharp, but she had a big heart, and he wouldn’t put it past her to tell everyone to leave him alone about his temporary breakdown.

He had been immensely grateful for the lack of questions, for everyone just trying to move on with things and pretend that he hadn’t zoomed himself to the World Tree without telling anyone where he was going.

The other thing he had been expecting to happen was for everyone to know. He had spent a lot of time fretting about what he would do if everyone suddenly knew about what he was hiding, about the two scars that he shouldn’t have. He had kind of been expecting Erik to say something, to tell someone about what he had seen, but...

But he hadn’t said anything. No one knew.

For whatever reason, he was keeping his silence. Despite being angry and hurt and looking like Eleven had stabbed him in the back with one of his own daggers (daggers that the Luminary had made for him), he was apparently choosing to keep what he had discovered a secret. Whether or not he would continue to do so if confronted about it was another matter, but for the time being he was staying quiet.

Eleven still didn’t know how to fix this, and while he knew that the library wouldn’t be able to help him with that, he was still kind of hoping that he would find the answer somewhere over the next few days. The plan was to remain in the Royal Library for however long it took to find everything they were looking for. The list was rather long, and there wasn’t really a clear place to start, but they had brought enough food with them to last a week, and so hopefully that would be enough time.

He was kind of hoping it wouldn’t take a full week, but he also knew better than to get his hopes up by now. So far nothing about this quest had been easy.

Hopefully they would be able to find something about lumen essence...

Hopefully the plant needed to make it hadn’t gone extinct...

Eleven was so deep in thought that when he went to step forward, only for the snow-covered ground beneath his boot to crumble away, he nearly lost his balance.

Jade quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the ledge and back onto more stable ground.

“Thanks,” he said, offering her a small smile to try and alleviate some of the fear he could see in her eyes (she was not a fan of heights. Riding Cetacea was literally the only exception to her phobia).

Eleven could admit that he had probably been walking a little too close to the edge—some of the paths were pretty narrow—but at the same time it had never been a problem before. He definitely remembered walking close to the edge the last time they had made this trip, admiring the view of the frozen tundra below and probably giving half of them a heart attack every time he strayed too far.

The ground beneath him had been fine then, so why not now?

“Careful,” Jade warned him as she let go of his arm. “A few of the knights told us that the cliffs around here have become unstable lately, due to all the monsters rampaging plus a few attacks from the auroral serpent. Try not to walk so close to the edges, alright?”

“Alright.” So that was it. Honestly, this region really did have the worst luck. Thank goodness nothing terrible had befallen the library at least, and hopefully whatever monsters were still left inside hadn’t decided to completely ransack it or something.

He’s not sure what he would do if they walked in only to find that the interior had been completely destroyed.

He would probably zoom back to the Salty Stallion and lock himself in his room for a week.

That was maybe a little melodramatic, but he was honestly just so tired of things going wrong for him that he didn’t much care. He could be allowed some dramatics, surely.

Thankfully for the sake of his sanity, when they finally reached the library, it didn’t actually look any different from before. Sure, some of the monsters were different (he was a little sad to see that the hat hamwitches were no longer around, since they were pretty docile and had been some of Serena’s favorites), but as the eight of them made their way further inside, he was pleased to find that most of the creatures milling about seemed content to let them be.

Good. That would certainly make their jobs easier. The plan was to split up after all, and they couldn’t really do that if they had to worry about frequent monster attacks.

“Okay,” Eleven began as he turned to address his party. “We’ll head upstairs first and drop our stuff off in the center room. Then we’ll come up with a plan for how to tackle this.”

...There were a lot of books.

He was starting to think that a week might not actually be enough time.

Oh well. He would worry about that later.

First things first, they had a puzzle chamber to solve.

The Royal Library truly was massive.

Actually walking amidst all of its shelves full of books made him realize just how big it actually was.

“Every book” he had said. They would literally be here for years if that was the case.

How were they supposed to find anything like this?

After finally making it to the center room—what had once been a great mage’s study, apparently—they had dropped off their bags and equipment, and then Eleven had told them all to just look around and explore for today, that they would come up with a better plan tomorrow after familiarizing themselves a bit with how the library was organized. Of course, if any of them did happen to find something interesting or promising, they should definitely take the time to flip through it—you never know where something important might be hiding—but for the most part he had wanted them to take it easy after walking for hours through the cold just to get here.

It was good that they weren’t meant to be taking the search too seriously right now, because after secluding himself in one of the stairwells and pulling a book off the shelf, Erik came to the realization that he wasn’t going to be of much help right now.

He couldn’t focus.

No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t focus.

There were words in front of him, and he was already ten pages in, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember a single thing that he had read—and it seriously wasn’t because he didn’t like books or reading but because he just couldn’t focus.

...He didn’t know what to do.

He honestly didn’t know what to do.

After months upon months of building towards something, of finding a place for himself, of finally realizing that just maybe the future he wanted wasn’t really that far out of reach after all... In just a few short minutes and with a few brief words, everything had come crashing down.

And he had no one to really blame for it but himself.

He shouldn’t have gone back to the ship.

He should’ve just ignored Serena’s musings on whether the Luminary was really okay and if he would want anyone to check up on him later to make sure he was fully healed.

He also should’ve ignored Jade when she noticed that he looked worried and told him that he could head back to the ship if he wanted instead of coming with to the castle.

He should’ve gone to the castle.

If he had just gone to the castle with the rest of them, then he never would’ve walked in on Eleven, never would’ve seen what he did, and then he wouldn’t have been met with the reality that his partner, the person that he had trusted the most, didn’t actually trust him at all.

It hurt.

It hurt so much more than he could’ve ever imagined it would. He had been lied to and betrayed before—in his profession, it wasn’t exactly uncommon—but never like this, and never by someone that he...

...Dammit.

Dammit all.

He hated this.

He didn’t want to be mad at Eleven, but...

But he just couldn’t help it. He couldn’t even look at him without all of it coming back, without thinking about what had happened and what he had seen, and no matter how hard he tried, even after an entire day spent thinking about it, he just couldn’t figure it out.

A wound like that...

It should’ve killed him.

It should’ve and yet it obviously hadn’t, and he didn’t have it prior to Arboria, and...

And it just didn’t make any sense.

Erik has been with him from the beginning. He’s been at his side day in and day out for months, and yet he didn’t remember anything happening that could’ve created a scar like that, not to mention the starburst shaped one between his shoulder blades.

A scar that was almost identical to Erik’s, to the wound he had gotten from Jasper in Gondolia.

...But El had never been struck by dark magic, not like that anyway. Not badly enough where it would’ve left scars.

And the one on his chest...

It looked like someone had reached in and tried to tear his heart out, and just the thought of it made him feel sick.

How?

How had he gotten it?

And why was Eleven refusing to talk about it, to tell him what had happened? After everything they had been through, after traveling together for all this time, why would he...

Dammit, but he really did hate this. He hated being at odds with the Luminary, hated feeling like something important had been taken from him, but it was just too hard to come to terms with the fact that despite all the trust that Erik had placed in him, all the faith he had given away, his partner didn’t actually feel the same. It didn’t go both ways.

Why?

He had asked Eleven once before, back in Cobblestone, if he didn’t trust them, if that was why he hadn’t talked to them about not wanting to take on the trials beneath Zwaardsrust, and the Luminary had assured him that his silence had nothing to do with trust, that that wasn’t why he had kept the truth from them, that that wasn’t what it was about.

...But if that was true, then what was it about?

What else could his silence possibly be if it wasn’t a matter of trust?

He didn’t know.

There were no answers for him.

What was he supposed to do? He knew they couldn’t continue like this, but...

But at the same time, he couldn’t really do anything about the way he felt. He was still too angry to talk to Eleven, and he didn’t know how to let that anger go when it was wrapped up in a million other things. Their easy, effortless partnership had been shattered, and even if he gathered all the pieces up, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to put it back to the way it was.

The shape of things had changed. It was impossible to return to a time where he didn’t know.

That was always the price for learning a secret.

Even if he talked to Eleven, even if he somehow found a way to let it go, things would be different between them. They wouldn’t be able to go back to how they were.

...He really did hate this.

Seriously, what was he supposed to—

“Hey!”

Erik nearly bashed his head against the closest bookshelf as that voice pierced the silence of his alcove, and the book in his hands almost found itself on the floor as he fumbled with it before slamming it shut. He turned to the entrance of the stairwell and saw a very angry looking Veronica standing there, and unfortunately for him there wasn’t a much less angry Serena hovering behind her. The pint-sized mage had come to him alone.

Great.

While this wasn’t exactly unusual, per se—Veronica was often angry, and half the time she was angry with him—this was quite possibly the last thing he needed right now.

He had wandered far away from everyone because he had wanted to be alone. He didn’t have the energy or the mental fortitude to verbally spar with her right now.

“What is it?” he asked, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice, but he was kind of hoping that if he just got her to say whatever it was she had come here to yell at him about, the two of them could be done with this quickly and move on.

He turned back to the shelf he had been standing next to and started to put his book away (it’s not like he had been making much progress with it after all).

“Whatever you’re mad at him for,” she began, “how about you just let it go already?”

...Well, that certainly got his attention, and this time he was unable to prevent the book from hitting the floor as it suddenly slipped from his fingers. He spun around and snapped his head up in a mixture of shock and confusion.

“What?” he asked, because that was quite possibly one of the last things he had expected to hear. In hindsight, it probably shouldn’t have been. He hadn’t exactly been doing a good job of keeping his mood a secret.

“Please, it’s obvious the two of you had a fight or something. You’ve been avoiding each other for almost two whole days now, and quite frankly, I’m getting tired of it.”

He could feel himself slowly becoming irritated.

None of them had a clue about what happened. What right did any of them have to try and tell him what to do or how to handle it?

“Whatever. It’s not like it’s any of your business.”

“It is my business,” she shot back. “Today has been one of the most awkward days we’ve ever had. Everyone was uncomfortable, and no one knew how to break the silence because you and Eleven weren’t talking to each other. The two of you are affecting everyone’s moods, including mine! I honestly can’t take any more of this moping.”

With one hand on her hip, she whipped her other out and pointed at him accusingly.

“Apologize to him and get over it!”

Erik was stunned for just a moment before his hands slowly curled into fists and his frustration curdled into actual anger.

The sheer nerve of...

Why was he the one being blamed for...!

“Why am I the one who has to apologize? I didn’t do anything!”

Veronica fixed him with a very skeptical, unimpressed look.

“Didn’t you? I find it hard to believe that Eleven would be avoiding you like this if you didn’t do anything.”

He could feel his hands starting to shake.

Of course she would take the Luminary’s side.

She didn’t know anything. None of them did, and he couldn’t take being yelled at for something that wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t his fault.

He had only wanted to...but Eleven had...

Dammit.

He couldn’t take this, and before he could think better of it, the words fell from his mouth.

“Look, if you have to know, I found out something he didn’t want me to, and when I tried to ask him about it, he lied to me and then said it was none of my business! I was trying to help, but he refused to talk to me! He wouldn’t tell me anything.”

The eyes looking back at him narrowed, and while he was used to being on the receiving end of Veronica’s ire, there was something very different in those lavender irises this time, something that gave him pause. He was used to arguing with the pint-sized mage, was used to teasing her and being insulted in return, but despite how it might sometimes appear, there was never anything malicious in their banter, no true animosity or contempt. They were friends, companions, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would always have his back when it mattered.

But there was something very close to derision in that stare, and he had no idea what he could’ve possibly said that would’ve put it there.

Until she opened her mouth that is.

“Did you try to force him to?”

...There truly weren’t words to describe the icy feeling that suddenly flooded his veins.

“What...?” He almost choked on the word as his breath caught in his throat.

Was she...?

Was she seriously asking him if he had...?

Surely she didn’t actually believe that he would... But there was really only one way for him to take that question, and...

“No! Of course I didn’t...I wouldn’t—!”

Except...

...Except he kind of had, hadn’t he.

He tried to think back to that evening, tried to look past the anger and the hurt, the knowledge that his friend had been keeping something important from him, from all of them...and he came to the realization that whether he had meant to or not, he had cornered Eleven.

He had backed him into a metaphorical corner where the Luminary had felt like his only option in order to get out of it was to lie.

It wasn’t that dissimilar to what happened in Gondolia, that night before the trial.

And all of them had promised that they would never push him like that again.

He hadn’t noticed it at the time, but...

But El had looked very much like he wanted to be anywhere but there. With Erik.

He had been afraid, like a cornered animal—desperate and panicked—before a wall had come down, and every emotion had suddenly been shoved behind a blank expression and dull eyes and a toneless voice, and...

And that wasn’t fair, because Erik had only been trying to...

He had only been trying to...

He had been worried, dammit, because Eleven had two scars that were clearly made by dark magic, and one of them should’ve killed him, and just the thought of him being hurt that badly and none of them even noticing...

He didn’t know when it happened or even how it happened, and he hated it, and why would Eleven feel the need to hide something like that, and...

Seriously, he hated this, because his thoughts just kept going in circles, and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t sort them out, and even though he didn’t want to admit it, Veronica was right.

She was right.

He had tried to force the conversation.

The Luminary had asked him to stop, and Erik had ignored him.

And no matter how angry or hurt or betrayed he felt, there was really no excuse for that, because anger wasn’t a justification.

El had pushed him away...but in the end Erik had pushed him away too.

He leaned back against the bookshelf behind him and took a deep, shaky breath as he ran a hand down his face in frustration.

“Dammit...”

What was he supposed to do?

He heard a sigh come from Veronica, but where he expected scorn or disappointment, he found only mild exasperation and a touch of what sounded like sympathy.

“Look, Erik—I told him that I wasn’t going to get involved, but there’s something important about this that you don’t seem to understand, and so I want you to pay close attention because I’m only going to tell you this once.”

“What?” he asked warily as he raised his eyes to meet hers.

“We all know that Eleven is hiding something. It’s not like you’re the only one. However, we can’t just force him to talk about something he doesn’t want to. I know you’ve had more success than the rest of us when it comes to getting him to actually say what’s on his mind, but that doesn’t mean you have a right to know everything.”

He...

He didn’t actually know what to say to that, but clearly the look he was giving her was enough to spark the frustration that he was used to.

“Gosh, you really are thick sometimes, aren’t you. Fine, let’s try it this way instead.” She crossed her arms and fixed him with a very determined (but no less frustrated) glare. “Why did it take you as long as it did to finally tell us about your sister? Why didn’t you say anything about your past the first time we came to Sniflheim?”

...He didn’t really know what to say to that either.

“I...” He knew the reason. He knew, but it wasn’t exactly something that he wanted to admit to Veronica.

He had been afraid—not so much because he was worried about being judged, but because it hurt.

His past was a thing that hurt, and even though he had known that Eleven was the kind of person who would’ve dropped literally everything to try and help, who wouldn’t have looked at him any differently or blamed him for what had happened, he simply hadn’t had it in him to ask, to admit to what he had done.

“Was it because you didn’t trust us?”

...No.

It hadn’t been a matter of trust.

“...Or because you just weren’t ready yet?”

...Oh.

Oh.

Dammit all...

He leaned a little harder against the shelf behind him and buried his head in his hands.

From the entrance of the alcove came another deep sigh.

“Look, it’s not like I’m actually blaming you for what happened, Erik. I don’t know exactly what the two of you fought about—who knows, maybe you have every right to be angry—but whatever it was, it’s obvious that neither of you handled it well.”

He was aware of that, but being aware didn’t make accepting it any easier.

He was still angry.

He was still angry and still hurt, and it still felt like Eleven didn’t really trust him, but...

“If you want to fix this, you’re going to have to talk to him.”

...Veronica had given him a lot to think about.

They were going to be here for the next week. The plan was to stay in the library until they had found everything they needed to continue with their quests.

There were a lot of books.

He had time to figure this out, time to decide what to do.

And hopefully, in the end...

“...I know.”

He would find the answer he needed.

Chapter Text

Chapter 24: A Painful Realization

...Three days.

It had already been three days since they arrived at the library, three days of scouring shelves and leafing through books, and still they had nothing to show for it. While it was true that Eleven had learned not to get his hopes up too high, he had kind of been expecting to find something by now. Maybe not anything about lumen essence (because that would be asking for way too much), but at least something about Jörmun. Even some sort of spell book would’ve been nice since one of the reasons they had wanted to come to the library in the first place was to research magic and perhaps weapon techniques in order to become stronger (Veronica had suggested it that night in Cobblestone after failing Drustan’s trial).

But so far they had found nothing, and to make matters worse, his attention span was slowly waning. If he didn’t concentrate wholly on what he was reading, if he let his mind wander even just the slightest bit, he would lose his focus entirely.

Erik still wasn’t talking to him.

That made almost five whole days since the two of them last spoke.

He wasn’t sure what to do, and it was starting to wear on his nerves.

Actually, he got the feeling that the situation was starting to wear on everyone’s nerves. There was less chatter, less banter, less stories shared around their meals, and although Sylvando in particular tried his best to lift everyone’s spirits, it was hard when all of them knew that something wasn’t right, when that easy comradery and synergy they usually shared had been disrupted.

He wanted to talk to Erik. He wanted to apologize, but...