Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There is a whisper the shadows keep —not found in books, nor spoken aloud under light. It drips between cracks in the Dark World’s stone, slithers through the seams of time, and curls beneath the heartbeat of the earth.

The world will not shatter with thunder, nor will heroes fall to some monstrous hand. No, it begins in silence. In hesitation, and fear.

In a girl who once thought she was a monster —and who, for a fleeting moment, believed she had been saved.

“Beware the day she looks inward.
Beware the moment her fists unclench,
not in peace, but in surrender.”

She will not rage. She will not roar. But the break will come like a faultline splitting the soul. Because the cruelest weapon is not steel.

It is guilt.

And when the fight ends and the dust clears — one will bleed, one will vanish, and one will finally understand what it means to truly fear herself.

The whisper begins again, as all things do, in battle. With light clashing against a roar. And a choice made too late.

The battlefield was quiet now. Too quiet. The twisted sky above pulsed a shade darker than before, like a heartbeat fading into stillness. The ground was scorched in a perfect circle where the creature had fallen, leaving behind only silence.

Kris... lay motionless.

Ralsei’s healing magic glimmered dimly over their body, but it flickered — like a candle in wind that wasn’t there.

Susie hadn’t said a word since the fight ended. She stood at the edge of the clearing, one foot hovering over a crack in the ground that hadn't been there before. Her axe was buried in the dirt behind her. She hadn't bothered to retrieve it.

"They shouldn't have done that," she muttered. Her voice echoed oddly, like the air itself was listening too closely.

Ralsei turned, ears twitching. "Susie—?"

“They knew the thing was going for me. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. And they still—"

Her voice dropped lower.

“They chose to take the hit.”

Ralsei hesitated. “They were trying to protect you."

Susie stood at the edge of the clearing, unmoving. Her back was to them — to Kris, to Ralsei, to everything. Her fists clenched at her sides, trembling with something that wasn't just fear.

Ralsei approached her carefully. "Susie... it wasn’t your fault."

Her jaw tightened.

“They shouldn’t have done it.”

“What do you mean?”

She turned slightly, just enough for Ralsei to see the fire behind her eyes — the kind that doesn’t warm, only burns.

“Kris didn’t need to jump in. I saw it coming. I could’ve taken it.”

Her voice sharpened, each word like a blade unsheathed. “They didn’t trust me. That’s what it was. They thought I’d mess it up. That I needed saving.”

Ralsei opened his mouth to protest, but she wasn’t done.

“I’ve been through worse. I could’ve handled it. But no, they had to play hero. They had to throw themselves in the way like I was some helpless idiot. And now look at them.”

She finally turned, pointing toward Kris’s still form.

“They’re lying there, broken. And for what? So I’d feel grateful? So I’d owe them something?”

Ralsei flinched. “That’s not—Kris wasn’t thinking that way. They care about you, Susie.”

Her expression twisted into something bitter, but she didn't say anything else. 

The walk back to Castle Town was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that presses down on you, makes your ears ring, and fills every breath with things you don't want to think about. Ralsei carried Kris in his arms, cradled gently like something fragile — or something sacred. Their SOUL flickered faintly with each step, like a dying ember refusing to go out. Susie trailed behind them, silent. Her footsteps dragged. Her axe scraped the ground, forgotten in her grip. She hadn’t looked at Kris once the entire way back.

Ralsei laid Kris down in one of the guest rooms, tucked into soft blankets made of woven light. He worked in silence, casting soft spells, humming old healing songs under his breath. Magic circled in the air like warm fog. Kris didn’t wake. But their breathing was steadier now. Ralsei brushed their hair back gently. “You’re safe now,” he whispered. “You’re okay.”

Susie lingered in the doorway, arms crossed, mouth set in a grim line. After a long moment, Ralsei looked up at her. “You should rest too.”

She didn’t move.

“They’ll be okay, Susie. You don’t have to blame yourself.”

She still didn’t answer.

Later, in her room, the silence followed her like a shadow. The moment the door shut behind her, Susie slumped against it. Her legs gave out. She sank to the floor, pressing her forehead against her knees, claws curling into the wood.

She breathed in. Held it. Then exhaled, slow and shaking. She wanted to stay angry. She wanted to say Kris was reckless, stupid, and selfish, but the truth sat in her chest like a stone. Ralsei was right. Kris cared. That’s why they did it. And it hurt. Because Susie didn’t know how to deal with someone who actually cared. Not for what she could do. Not for how strong she was. Just… her. That kind of kindness scared her more than any monster. She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper.

“Why’d you do that, Kris?”

No answer. Just the hush of Castle Town, soft and still.

Her throat tightened. “I could’ve taken it. I was going to. You didn’t have to step in.”

A pause, then a quiet breath.

"...You didn’t have to get hurt for me."

Her voice cracked on the last word, and suddenly it all poured out — hot, burning tears sliding down her face. She wiped them away roughly, like they offended her just for existing. She hated this. Hated how much it hurt to see them like that. Hated that someone finally gave a damn. Because it meant she had something to lose.

And she wasn’t ready for that.

Chapter Text

There is a place even whispers do not reach — a thin place, between the waking world and the endless dark.
It is not warm. It is not cold. It simply is.

And here, a SOUL drifts.

Not broken, nor whole. Suspended in a stillness so deep that even thought feels heavy. They do not know if they are standing or falling. They do not know how long they’ve been here. They only know the weight pressing in from every side — not like the air, not like water, but like eyes. Something is watching, something that has always been watching. Kris feels it — the tether. Invisible, unbreakable. The thing that moves their hands before their mind does. That speaks for them when their mouth stays closed. And it pulls. Always pulling more, more. 

But here, for the first time in what feels like forever, the pull is faint. Weak. Almost… gone. They breathe — or the idea of breathing — and hear it:

“Why?”

It isn’t Susie’s voice, and it isn’t Ralsei’s either. It’s something older, and somehow it seems.. familiar.

The question curls around them like smoke.
“Why throw yourself into the blade?”

They want to answer. They try to answer. But their tongue is heavy, locked. Their SOUL throbs in silence.

“Was it choice? Or command?”

The tether shivers, the pull sharpens. They feel their body somewhere far away, wrapped in warmth, surrounded by light. But the light doesn’t reach here.

“Do you even know?”

The ground — if there was ground — splits beneath them. Darkness spills upward, swallowing the stillness. And in that rushing, endless black, they hear another voice.

“…You didn’t have to get hurt for me.”

It’s shaky. Almost broken. And Kris knows it. Susie.

Something tightens in their chest — not the tether, not the watchful presence. Something theirs. They try to reach for her voice, but the darkness resists, the tether also resists. But still, they push. Somewhere above the dark, somewhere in the waking world, Kris’ fingers twitch.

In the hall outside the guest room, Ralsei paused mid-step. He’d been carrying a tray of tea, the soft scent of mint and honey drifting upward. But the faintest rustle of fabric made his ears flick.

He turned. Kris’ hand had moved, just a little.

Ralsei’s chest flooded with cautious hope. “Susie!” he called gently, but urgently.

The sound of footsteps followed, slow at first, then faster. She appeared in the doorway, eyes tired but alert.

Ralsei’s smile was small, but real. “They’re waking up.”

Susie’s gaze dropped to the bed. Her breath caught. And for a second — a fleeting second — her shoulders loosened. But then she saw the faint, pained furrow in Kris’ brow, the way their SOUL still flickered in uneven pulses, and the tightness returned. She didn’t step closer.

“…Good,” she muttered, barely above a whisper.

The silence between the three of them was thin, fragile — like if anyone spoke too loud, it would break. Somewhere, in that space no whispers reach, something smiled.

Because it knew the tether had not been cut.
Not yet.

The first thing Kris felt was weight.

Not the kind that pushes you into the earth. The kind that lives in your chest, that follows you no matter where you run. They opened their eyes. The light above them was soft, warm — but too warm. It made their vision swim. Every blink felt like dragging themselves through mud. They shifted. Something in their side burned. The blankets were heavy. The air was heavy. Everything was heavy except the pull. The tether. That was sharp, clear, and unrelenting. As always.

“Kris?”

The voice was gentle, but Kris could hear the worry hiding underneath. Ralsei, leaning forward in his chair, eyes bright and wide.

They blinked again. Their mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“They’re awake,” Ralsei said quietly — maybe to himself, maybe to someone else.

A shadow moved in the doorway. Susie. She didn’t rush to their side, she didn’t smile. She just stood there, arms crossed like she needed something to hold her together.

“Hey,” she said, and it was almost a question.

Kris looked at her. Something flickered in her eyes — relief, anger, something in between — but it was gone too fast to name.

Ralsei glanced between them, then stood. “I’ll… give you two a minute.”

The door clicked shut. The silence stretched, taut and brittle. Susie stepped closer, just enough to stand beside the bed. She stared down at them, her shadow cutting across the blankets.

“…You’re an idiot,” she said finally. No bite in it. Just… tired.

Kris didn’t answer. The tether wouldn’t let them, but they nodded anyway.

Her claws flexed against her arms. “You didn’t have to do that. I told you I could’ve handled it.”

Still, no answer.

Her voice sharpened. “Do you even hear me? Or are you still off in whatever messed-up place your head goes when you do crap like that?”

The words were harsh, but her eyes — her eyes said something else. She was afraid. But it was the kind of fear she wouldn’t admit if you begged her.

Kris swallowed. Tried to speak. And then—

The world twitched. Just for a moment. The edges of the room bent inward, the light dimmed, and something cold traced the back of Kris’s neck.

Move.

The command slid into their mind, smooth and inevitable. Their fingers curled against the sheets without permission. Kris’ gaze shifted — not to Susie’s face, but to her hands, her throat, her stance. The tether pulled harder. They fought it. The warmth in their chest from before, the thing that belonged to them, pushed back.

The thing in the dark — the one that watched through Kris’ eyes — stilled. Not afraid, but amused.

"How fun."

Chapter Text

There is a quiet that wounds deeper than war —
a distance born not of anger,
but of fear to reach out.

The battle is over, yet the break remains.
Not in blood, but in silence.

Beware the peace that follows sorrow,
for even calm can fracture a soul.

The next day came soft and colorless. Morning light stretched thin through the castle’s high windows, spilling gold over the halls but never quite warming them. The air was quiet — not heavy like before, but tired, like the world itself was trying to rest.

Kris walked slowly, their steps careful, measured. The wound still ached when they breathed too deep, and Ralsei stayed close, his hands folded nervously in front of him. Every few steps, he glanced their way — making sure they were steady, making sure they were there.

Susie followed beside them. But not with them. She walked on the far side of Ralsei, her stride longer, rougher. The distance between her and Kris wasn’t wide, but it felt like miles. Every time Kris drifted a little closer, even by accident, Susie’s shoulders tensed — and she’d move, just enough, to keep Ralsei between them. Like a wall she could hide behind. Ralsei noticed, of course he noticed. He didn’t say anything right away — he never did — but the silence between them carried questions.

Kris said nothing either. Their eyes stayed down, tracing the mosaic floor. The world around them was still bright — monsters chatting in the square, the sound of fountains — but it all felt muted, distant, like laughter heard through glass.

When they reached the fountain’s edge, Ralsei stopped, turning toward the others. “It’s… nice, isn’t it? To have a quiet morning after everything.”

Susie’s response was a small shrug. “Yeah. Guess so.” Her tone wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm either. Just somewhere in between — the kind of in-between that felt safer than choosing.

Kris nodded faintly, but didn’t meet her eyes. The three of them stood there for a while, pretending to take in the view, but even that sight couldn’t fill the space that had opened between them.

Eventually, Ralsei smiled a little too brightly and said, “We should head back. Breakfast’s waiting.”

They turned toward the castle again. Susie stayed on his right side.

Later that evening, Ralsei found Susie leaning against one of the castle’s stone railings, staring out at the horizon. 

“You’ve been quiet,” he said softly.

Susie didn’t look up. “I’m always quiet.”

He tilted his head. “Not like this.”

For a moment, the only sound was the faint rush of wind over the battlements. Then she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s nothing, okay? Just tired.”

“Susie…” Ralsei’s voice was gentle, but there was something steady beneath it — a kind of kindness that didn’t let go easily. “You’ve been avoiding Kris.”

Her hand froze. Just for a second. Then she laughed — short, strained. “What, no. I haven’t.”

“You walked on the same side as me all morning.”

“So? Maybe I just like that side.”

He frowned. “You’re sure that’s all it is?”

She met his eyes for half a heartbeat, then looked away. “…Yeah. That’s all.”

Ralsei didn’t press her. He just nodded, smiling softly. “Alright. But if you ever want to talk, you know I’ll listen.”

Susie huffed, but the sound didn’t hold much weight. “Yeah, yeah. Go check on Kris or something. They probably need you more than I do.”

She didn’t wait for him to answer. She turned and walked back toward her room, claws dragging lightly along the stone walls as she went.

When she shut the door behind her, the silence hit harder than she expected. No noise, no footsteps, no one watching. Just the faint hum of the castle at night — steady and alive, like the world breathing in its sleep.

She dropped onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. Her chest ached, but not in the way it used to. It wasn’t anger anymore. It wasn’t even guilt. It was something quieter. Something she didn’t have a name for. She kept seeing Kris’ face when they woke — pale, quiet, and somehow still trying to smile even when they shouldn’t have. The memory twisted in her stomach. She hated it, not them, just… the way it made her feel. Because every time she looked at them, she remembered the fight. The moment they fell. The sound that came after. And the fear that had crept in since — that maybe she wasn’t angry at them. Maybe she was angry for them.

She rolled onto her side, pulling the blanket up to her chin. “I’ll figure it out,” she muttered to herself. “Tomorrow. I’ll… talk to Ralsei or something.”

The words sounded weak, but she didn’t take them back. Outside, the wind shifted softly through the castle’s gardens, brushing past her window like a sigh. Within minutes, her eyes grew heavy. And as she drifted off to sleep, the last thought she had wasn’t about the fight, or the fear, or even Kris.

It was the quiet — and how strange it felt to want it to end

Chapter Text

There are cracks in every calm.
You just have to listen long enough to hear them.

They start faint — a skipped heartbeat in a steady rhythm, a shadow too slow to fade. Then they widen, then they whisper.

Kris woke to the sound of rain. It wasn’t loud, just the soft kind that seems to fall from everywhere at once. For a moment, it almost felt peaceful. But peace doesn’t last here — not when every drop echoed a little too sharply, as if the world were hollow and listening. They sat up slowly. Ralsei had left a tray on the table — tea gone cold, crumbs scattered where he’d sat to keep them company. The warmth of his magic still lingered faintly in the air, like the ghost of a melody. Kris breathed in. The tether pulsed once, faint but undeniable. Move. Their hand twitched before their mind caught up. They flexed their fingers, trying to feel the boundary between what was theirs and what wasn’t. But there was no line anymore — only static where the two should’ve met. The mirror across the room glimmered faintly. Their reflection stared back, patient, waiting. Then, for just a second, it smiled before they did. Kris froze. The air shifted. Somewhere far off, a door creaked.

Ralsei was waiting in the main hall, folding bandages and humming softly to himself. When he saw Kris, he brightened immediately. “Oh — you’re up! How are you feeling?”

Kris hesitated. Then nodded.

“That’s good.” He smiled, relieved, but it was a careful kind of relief. The kind people use when they’re afraid to be too happy yet. “Susie’s out by the gate. She said she needed some air. Maybe you could—”

Kris blinked once. Ralsei faltered.

“…Or maybe after breakfast,” he added gently. “You should eat first.”

But Kris was already walking toward the door.

Outside, the rain had stopped. The world smelled clean, but distant — like it had been washed of color. Susie sat beneath one of the trees at the edge of the square, arms draped over her knees, watching the fountain ripple. When she heard footsteps, she didn’t turn right away. Kris stopped a few paces away. The ground between them glistened, still wet.

“You’re out.” Her tone was rough, but quieter than usual. “Ralsei said you should be resting.”

Kris didn’t answer.

Susie sighed, pushing herself up. “Figures. You never listen anyway.”

Something in her voice cracked at the edges. She rubbed the back of her neck. “Look, about what I said before… you know, after the fight—”

Her words tangled. She tried again.

“I didn’t mean it like that, okay? You didn’t—”

She stopped. Kris wasn’t looking at her. They were staring at the fountain — at their reflection trembling on the surface. It blinked twice. They hadn’t.

“...Kris?”

The air went still. For an instant — a heartbeat, maybe less — the reflection split. Two figures, overlapping but wrong. One still. One smiling. Then the water rippled again, and the image was gone. Kris stepped back. Their pulse stuttered.

Susie frowned. “What’s—”

The ground trembled faintly beneath them. Just once. Enough to make the fountain’s edge shiver.

Ralsei, who had already been on the way to check on the two of them, paused, his voice carried faintly from the courtyard. “Did you feel that?”

Susie turned toward him. “Yeah—yeah, what was—”

When she looked back, Kris was still standing there, but their eyes had changed. Glazed, distant, fixed on something that wasn’t here.

Ralsei hurried over, staff glowing faintly. “Kris?”

The moment his hand brushed their arm, the world twisted. Light folded inward. The air turned sharp, and metallic, like the moment before lightning strikes. The fountain’s water froze mid-motion — droplets hanging weightless in the air. Then a voice — soft, almost kind.

“The choice was never yours.”

The sound came from everywhere and nowhere, layered over itself like an echo.

Kris’s body jerked. The tether pulled taut.

Ralsei grabbed their shoulders. “Kris! Look at me—!”

For one terrible moment, Kris did — but it wasn’t them looking back. And then the world snapped back into place. The rain started again, light and cold. The fountain moved. The air steadied. Kris stumbled forward, collapsing into Ralsei’s arms.

Susie caught her breath, stepping closer, claws shaking. “What the hell was that?”

Ralsei didn’t answer. His magic flickered weakly around Kris’s fading SOUL-light. “Something’s wrong,” he whispered. But could he really tell Susie? This was Kris' burden, yet Ralsei felt compelled to tell Susie.

This.. thing, the entity controlling Kris, was becoming more of a problem for everyone. This was the perfect, and likely only time that Ralsei would get to tell Susie without Kris knowing.. But Ralsei didn't have the heart.

He was too pure to lie to his friend like that, even if it meant more strain on himself, he didn't care. He was only there to aid the lightners, he had forgotten that. Kris specifically told him not to tell anyone, so Ralsei swallowed the misery of deceiving his friend this way, and picked up Kris, holding their unconscious form in his arms as Susie and Ralsei walked back to the castle in silence.

That night, Castle Town didn’t sleep.

The light in the hallways flickered, not from power or spell, but from something deeper. And in the still reflection of the fountain, where rainwater gathered and the stars should’ve shown — something else was smiling.

It didn’t look like Kris anymore.

Chapter Text

There is a kind of quiet that pretends to be peace.
It hides in the corners of every whisper, waiting for someone to breathe too loudly.
And when they do — it listens.

Morning came dim and just as colorless. Clouds still pressed against the castle windows, blurring the light into a washed gray. The world hadn’t broken, but it felt thinner — like a page that had been erased too many times. Kris lay motionless in bed. Their breathing was steady, but their eyes were closed too tightly, as if the act of staying unconscious required effort. Ralsei sat beside them, half-awake himself, head resting on his hands. The faint hum of his magic filled the room, pulsing softly in time with Kris’ heartbeat. He told himself it was working — that he was helping. But every time the glow flared, he could feel it. That presence. Watching. Waiting. Pulling. A faint creak interrupted his thoughts.

Susie stood in the doorway, shadows cutting across her face. “They still out?”

Ralsei straightened quickly, forcing a small smile. “They’re resting. Healing takes time.”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “Healing.” She stepped closer, claws drumming softly against her arm. “That… thing, back at the fountain. That wasn’t just magic, was it?”

Ralsei froze. “What do you mean?”

She gave him a look — tired, sharp, unamused. “Don’t do that, dude. You know what I mean. You saw what I saw.”

“I—”

“Ralsei.” Her voice dropped low. “Their eyes. That wasn’t Kris.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. His hands trembled just slightly. “Susie… they’re under a lot of strain. That’s all. Sometimes—”

“Sometimes what? They get possessed?”

The word hung in the air like a knife.

Ralsei looked away. “…You wouldn’t understand.”

Her tone sharpened. “Try me.”

He didn’t answer.

Susie’s jaw tightened. “Fine.” She turned toward the door, tail lashing once behind her. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll figure it out myself.”

She left before he could stop her.

The castle halls felt different now. The air carried a faint hum, like the vibration before thunder. Torches flickered with colors they weren’t supposed to. Every shadow looked one blink too slow to move.

Susie walked fast, hands shoved into her pockets, pretending she didn’t feel it — the watching. She passed the window overlooking the fountain and caught a flash of movement below. The surface of the water rippled once. Then again. Then stopped completely, as if it were holding its breath.

She backed away. “Nope,” she muttered, forcing a shaky laugh. “Not dealin’ with haunted water today.”

But the moment she turned, she heard it — faint, almost soft enough to ignore.

“You were right.”

She froze. “…What?”

No answer.

Just the fountain, still and shining under gray light.

In Kris’ room, Ralsei sat perfectly still. His hands hovered over Kris’ chest, magic glowing faintly — but he wasn’t casting anymore. He was listening. The voice had returned. Not aloud, but in the space between thought and silence.

“He hides it well. The little prince of patience.”

Ralsei’s throat tightened. “Leave them alone.”

“You let me in, remember?”

The light around Kris flickered, twisting into shapes that didn’t belong to his spell — thin spirals, like strings pulled too tight.

“You wanted to save them.”

“I still do.”

“Then you’ll fail the same way they did.”

The glow snapped, bursting like glass. Ralsei gasped, clutching his hands to his chest as the air around Kris went still again. Their breathing hadn’t changed. Their SOUL — what little of it showed through — pulsed once, faint and unsteady.

He wiped his eyes, shaking. “…Please, Kris. Don’t make me keep lying to her.”

That night, rain returned. Susie sat awake in her room, axe propped beside the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Every few minutes, she thought she heard footsteps outside her door. Slow, deliberate, stopping right before the threshold — and then gone. She told herself it was her imagination. But when she finally looked toward the window, she saw it. A reflection in the glass. Kris. Standing in the hallway. Except Kris was supposed to be asleep. And in the reflection, they weren’t breathing. Susie stood quickly, heart hammering, claws gripping her axe. “Kris?” No reply. The reflection tilted its head. A second passed — then the hallway light flickered, and Kris’ shadow turned to face her before their body did. The tether hummed, invisible but alive.

“Proceed.”

And this time, the word wasn’t meant for Kris.

It was meant for Noelle.