CHAPTER ELEVEN: STATUS QUO

On the edge of Downtown Coastal Astoria, the same morning Abigail and Carlos found themselves a False Wendigo, a small house finds itself situated within a labyrinthine maze of side streets. It sits alongside a few other houses of equivalent sizes, each showing their age in various states of disrepair, but none dilapidated enough to be considered unsafe. As Lea O’Hare would say, her home is ‘rustic’, and hers was the most obvious of the bunch, the walls adorned with stringing vines of plants, buds of flowers always seemingly ready to unfurl. Standing at her front doorstep was a tired, wild haired man, his body language uneasy and nervous. He looks at the screen door shielding the front door, and hesitates before tentatively reaching out his hand and ringing the doorbell. 

The front door flies open, and Arihiro is immediately taken aback by how similar Lea looks to Abigail - she was taller, and her hair was a gold that stripped down to a bronzy brown at the roots, but she had the same face shape and the same crooked smile. 

“Well, well, well,” Lea says, nudging the screen door slightly as an invitation for Arihiro to open it and come in, “Nice to officially meet you, Arihiro.” 

Arihiro nods awkwardly, recalling his temporary hiding spot the morning of the Jade Festival. I guess this is how Abigail knew I’d be there… “Uh, yeah, good to, good to meet you too.” 

Lea cocks her head and sighs. “Come on in and we can chat.” 

Arihiro gently opens the screen door, and looks back at the cross-section of the world behind him before allowing a quick puff of determination to spill from his lungs as he walks into this stranger’s house. Immediately, he starts to survey the area, instinctively checking for any sort of trap or emergency exit - the number of plants in the house send off quick alarms in his brain. The white pupil in his green eye twitches incessantly. 

“Can I grab you any water or anything?” Lea asks, making her way through the foyer and entering her kitchen. Her house is simple and organized on the surface, each room small and plainly put together, but the functional nature of the space was brought to life by her foliage. Shelves and hooks line the walls, with her longer plants being intricately strung between them, and the number of colors was almost overwhelming - leaves of green, orange, red polka dots; flowers that seemed to have more variety than the rainbow. The upper corners of each wall appeared to have a custom built watering system, but Arihiro couldn’t figure out on a quick glance how they worked, as none of the tubing seemed to reach any of the plants. 

“I think I’m okay,” Arihiro sheepishly replies, entering the living room but unsure of where he was allowed to sit. When was the last time I went to someone’s house like this? He thinks, tapping his foot nervously.

Lea nods and prepares two glasses of water anyway, looking through the window above her sink into her sliver of a backyard. The fact that she barely had room outside to place more plants gnawed its way into her brain every time she looked through this window, but it was something she always had to shake off. “I guess Abigail had to take off, huh? I figured she would have joined you.” She recoils upon seeing that Arihiro is still just standing in the middle of the room. “You know you’re allowed to sit down?”

“She got a call from some guy to go monster hunting,” he says, a jolt of nervous energy making him physically shake as he allows himself to sit on the very edge of the couch, “So her and Carlos headed out. She said you don’t bite.” 

Lea chuckles and grabs a stool, placing it in front of Arihiro and sitting down, “Sounds like her. A bit of a workaholic, isn’t she?”
Arihiro shrugs. “You own that nursery, right? Magnolia Street?” He asks, taking another look around the room, “Must run in the family.” 

Lea laughs and leans back, crossing her arms and taking a good look at her new patient. She found herself immediately concerned by how dark the rings under each of his eyes were, and the obvious sapping of nutrition evident in how skinny he was. She cracks her knuckles and looks intently into Arihiro’s eyes. “So. This…illness, perse, that’s causing you problems. Can you give me some background?”

Arihiro takes a moment before he responds, continually weighing his anxiety and paranoia over a sudden attack with the possibility of easing his pain. If I trust Abigail, I guess I’ll have to trust her sister, too. “My arms and left eye were…uh, how do I put this…they were ‘replaced’ by Void Matter when I was a kid. My Calling, Rejection, makes my body automatically respond to the Void’s instinct to continue to consume, so they don’t overtake the rest of me.” 

“Sheesh. I guess it’s the same principle that makes the Deep Woods continue to spread?” 

“Exactly. Problem is, it seems like my arms and eye have started to switch up their process - instead of consuming the rest of me, they’re trying to integrate. A more cohesive fusion between flesh and Void. But now my Rejection is working against me, it’s halting the integration but in the process destroying the parts of my body that have started integrating.” 

Lea pulls her head back slightly further, absorbing the information. “Gotcha. Too bad the mad scientist that cursed you isn’t around for following through on his project, huh?” 

“I guess.” 

“I’m just saying it would give us a better place to start,” Lea says, now leaning forward with her hands glowing green, “But let’s take a look anyway. Can you take off your shirt and scarf?”

Arihiro shudders, but silently acquiesces, removing his tattered clothing to reveal an emaciated body coated in scars.

Lea holds in her response at the scar across his neck, and places her hands on Arihiro’s shoulders. Her eyes close as she gently rubs her fingers across his body. With her Calling, Mother Nature, she has the ability to manipulate and enhance the bodily functions of any living creature at the cost of her own energy. With a plant’s ability to photosynthesize its own energy source, she’s always found it easier to use her Calling on them, but she will help other creatures from time to time. Within Arihiro, she can feel possibly more damage than was visible on his skin, entire chunks of organs coated in scar tissue and showing the beginning signs of shutting down. She shivers as she pulls her hands back, suddenly feeling a brewing exhaustion. “Wow. This is…wow. You really are suffering, aren’t you?” She asks, barely able to contain a frown. 

“Can’t say I’ve been having a great time.” 

“I can only imagine. Well, good news, bad news time. Good news is I might be able to do something to help you - but the bad news is that it’s only a stop-gap at best. I can heal some of the damage your body has sustained, but I don’t know that I can do anything about the cause. Need someone with a higher pay grade than me, unfortunately.” 

Arihiro feels his eyes well up. “A stop-gap sounds incredible.” 

Lea nods and looks away for a moment. 

“Arihiro…” She says, a pause filling the room with a thick tension, “...I’ll do what I can to help you. But I need you to promise me something first.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few days later, at an apartment complex located closer to the beach of Coastal Astoria, Maya Olvide stands solemnly at the door of her new home. The complex is quiet, each of the buildings shaped like beach houses with six apartments per building, each apartment adorned with a wrap-around porch. She sighs as she takes a few steps up to the second floor, rotating a small selection of keys on her keychain as she attempts to find the correct one. Normally, little things like this were easier to remember, but given recent events, she found herself having a little extra trouble with her basic mental facilities. After a few false starts and incorrect keys, she manages to unlock her new front door to her new home. As is custom for any Peacekeeper in her rank, Ian Crowley had spared no expense on hiring movers to swiftly set up her new place, but this left her in an awkward position of needing to learn a new layout she hadn’t made herself. 

Best of intentions, with a lack of understanding. 

She slides a backpack from her shoulders and unzips it as she locks the door behind her, “MAYA OLVIDE” stitched into the back, and pulls out a few of her most personal belongings - a plush starfish, well worn and well loved; a notebook, edges beginning to fray and rippling from an old coffee stain; a ‘stress ball’ in the shape of a pirate’s hook hand; a large and soft blanket, zig-zag patterns of interweaving grays, blacks, and whites, notably newer but no less loved. She glances around the room, frustrated by the chosen layout. I swore I gave them a blueprint of how I wanted it to look… she thinks, scratching her head. “Whatever.” she mutters. No use getting frustrated over something like this now. She walks past her couch, familiar and showing its age, taking in a quick whiff. It didn’t smell quite right, but with time, it would fix itself. She prepares herself a glass of wine from the kitchen and places herself on the couch, notebook in hand. She flips forward to the half-way mark, pulls out a pencil that she’d placed into the rings holding the notebook together, and starts writing. 

SEPTEMBER 6TH, 143 P.O. 

Moved into my new place today, and Crowley messed up the blueprint. I’m starting to wish I’d gone forward with asking for Michael to be moved to the same complex, but I’m sure he’s happier having some space. I know I can be a lot to deal with, so I’m glad he gets freedom from me. 

She sighs and twists her pencil vertically, gently resting her head on the eraser. A quick pang of guilt shoots its way through her. 

Been continuing to have a tough time since our fight with O’Hare. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about all this. I feel like my brain is swarming with bees, and the bees are rumbling in my stomach, too. If it was just O’Hare, I could probably keep it together, but Arihiro too? Check page 52 in the compendium if you need more information. Either way, what’s done is done, this is what Crowley wants so we’ll do what we can do to help. Hoping I don’t find a way to screw this one up. I don’t know how to act around them. Should we pretend the past didn’t happen? That I didn’t just try to kill Abigail a week and a half ago? That she didn’t try to kill me? Or should I be keeping my guard up, watching for any signs that they’ll do something awful or crazy? I’m not sure, and I think Michael is tired of going back and forth on it. He’s decided to kill ‘em with kindness, and I think that’s great. I just don’t know what feels right for me. 

Do I care if they think I’m the crazy one? 

I’m relying on you and the compendium to keep me consistent. 

Thank you, me. 

She frowns as she closes her notebook, placing it back in her bag and swapping it for another one. She flips this new book open and shifts over to her new bedroom, standing at the doorway and carefully attempting to sketch out the layout of the room in front of her. 

Today wasn’t the day to fix all this. 

After getting close to the halfway mark, she feels her phone buzzing in her pocket, and taps an earbud that materializes in her ear from a choker around her neck. “This is Maya.”

“I can’t believe they didn’t put us in the same apartment complex!” Michael’s voice shouts through the phone. “I told them we need to be close…where’s yours at?” 

Maya chuckles and twirls the pencil in her hand with an old trick from her childhood, letting momentum carry it around in a circle between her thumb and pointer finger. He’s just being polite. “I’m over towards the beach. Where’d they put you?”

“The beach?! You lucky duck, they put me in suburbia. I’ve got a frozen yogurt shop across the street. Think it’s too late to get me relocated?”

“At this point, probably. At least you can get your late night sweets.” 

“You going to be okay out there on your own?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.” You don’t need to pretend to be worried.

“Did they set up your apartment right?” 

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Maya lies, “Just the way I asked them to.” 

“Shit, at least they did that correctly. They somehow ‘misplaced’ my TV, so I guess I gotta buy one of those tonight. You wanna grab dinner and go shopping?” 

Maya smiles widely. “I’m down. Send me your new address, we’ll meet up in a couple hours?” 

“Tight. And hey, Maya, don’t forget you can call me anytime, okay?” 

Her smile wavers. He doesn’t trust me. “I won’t forget. See you soon?”

“Yeah, see ya soon!” 

As soon as the call ends, Maya sets up an alarm on her phone. 

She didn’t want to forget, but knowing her, she probably would. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael hangs up the phone and looks around at his new digs. Despite losing his TV, he was thankful that all of his photos and paintings hadn’t been lost or damaged, and even more thankful they hadn’t been hung up yet. He specifically requested to put them up exactly the way he wanted them, and knew he wouldn’t know the exact placement until he was in the actual space. He carefully examines each one, and then takes pointed looks across the living room, creating an elaborate plan in his head for the new feng shui of his place. 

Mom and Dad go here, he thinks, placing a framed photo of his folks directly above his reclining chair. They would watch over him in his place of comfort, eyes filled with love and keeping him safe. He immediately feels the sensation of ‘home’ hitting him, a bittersweet feeling of treasuring the parts of his family he could keep with him despite how they’d all scattered to the winds. 

Maggie’s portrait goes here, he thinks, his eldest sister’s portrait being placed on the railing above the bartop created by the intersection of his living room and kitchen. She would help him to remember to take care of himself, to make sure he eats well and keeps up with his exercise. Maggie was always the parent when his parents were busy with work or having a date night, so he accepted and loved how overprotective she could be. 

Malcolm can go over here, he thinks, putting a photo of Malcolm and his husband, Alan, above his fireplace. He would remind Michael to enjoy the quiet moments, to allow the peaceful beauty of the world to maintain a place in his heart, and to take advantage of the pieces of his home that allowed this beauty to take hold. I’ll have to grab some firewood. 

Em belongs over here, he thinks, hanging a photo of his middle sibling cutting the ribbon to their bakery, a piece of that ribbon trailing down from a thumbtack on the corner of the photo. They would keep Michael focused on his goals, reminding him that the River family is capable of anything if they put their minds to it. 

Mads would kill me if she didn’t go out here, he thinks, hanging an intricate painting of the River family on his covered balcony, a scribble of Mads’ name barely visible in the bottom right corner. She would give him his daily reminder to get some fresh air, and to sit outside and look at the moon at night, the thing that the entire River family could look up and see so they could always be together, at least a little bit. 

And I go here, he thinks, placing a small photo of himself and Maya by his nightstand. This is a reminder of the life he has, and of the wonderful friend he’s made in his two years with the Peacekeepers. A reminder to be true to himself, to always act in a way that would make his family proud. 

A reminder to keep Maya safe. 

He takes a lap through his new apartment, eyes lingering on each hung picture. He smiles as he feels a gentle current passing through him, a soft babbling of water on stone ringing faintly in his ears. Seven teal crystals appear in the air with the flick of his wrist, and each stone magnetizes itself to a separate picture, floating close enough for the images to reflect on the cragged surfaces of the crystals. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think they were praying, heads bowed in reverence. Michael gently slides into his recliner, pulling back fully and closing his eyes, allowing himself to steep in this moment of pure peace. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Across town, another set of siblings sits at a small dinner table in their small house left to them by their father. Carlos and Cassandra Dumaresq sit silently as they eat, but the silence is neither tense nor uncomfortable - instead, the air is filled with the sound of blues records swooning from their antique record player, a memento left to them by their mother. 

Cassandra cuts into her steak with mismatched silverware, atop a plate decorated with Christmas trees, all picked up from thrift shops over the years. 

Carlos sips whiskey from a fancy goblet, semi-clear and made of a green tinted glass, stolen from Josef’s Diner after he quit when the owner wouldn’t give him time off for his mother’s funeral. 

Behind Cassandra sits a hand-crafted dining hutch, wood stained a deep burgundy and filled with tchotchkes and memorabilia, a gift made and given to her by her brother. 

Around Carlos’ neck a necklace is strung, a small golden orb wrapped in a gold-lined string of expensive and slim cord, a gift bought for him by his sister after she got her first “big girl job”. 

Carlos still gets a laugh out of calling it that, and Cassandra always gets heated, saying “every job I work is a ‘big girl job!’”.

Cassandra finishes her meal and brings her plates to the sink, the faucet leaking slightly as she turns it on and washes her dishes. She chuckles and shakes her head. Damn. Thought I figured this one out.

Carlos looks up to the ceiling and notices dust caking on their ceiling fan, the lightbulbs hazy and emanating a deep orange light. It’s gonna be time for a cleaning dance party soon, he thinks, already planning out a playlist. 

Cassandra loads her dishes into their dishwasher, and stretches as she stands back up. “You sure it’s gonna be alright for me to come tonight? Don’t wanna get in the way of your new crew.”

“Duh, I wouldn’t have invited you otherwise,” Carlos replies, lazily standing up and cleaning his dishes as Cassandra moves out of the way, “I think you’ll feel better if you get to meet the guy.” 

“Mmhmm. Nothin’ I love more than a convict.”

“Acquitted convict, the Peacekeepers put a hold on his execution. Or whatever.”

“That’s not what acquitted means,” Cassandra says with a laugh, “besides, if O’Hare trusts him, I’m sure he’s fine. She might be crazy, but she’s a good judge of character.” 

“Come on, Abigail’s not crazy. She’s just passionate.” 

“Don’t see a difference myself, but I’m also not insulting her. She’s just…extra.” 

Carlos pauses. “....Extra is better.” 

The two clean the kitchen in a returned comfortable silence, knowing they both had a great deal of respect for Abigail, but their concerns for her self-destructive tendencies manifested in different ways. Cassandra wanted to try and find a way to talk her out of being a Freelancer, for her to use her empathy in a way she found to be more harmless to her and helpful for others. Carlos, on the other hand, was quickly finding that he couldn’t help but emulate her - he now knew the intensity of what Abigail was up against, and the consequences held by failure. 

“I think Abigail and Arihiro are gonna be setting up soon, so we should head out in what, like an hour?” Carlos asks, throwing a drying rag into an overflowing hamper of dirty clothes. 

“I’m cool with that, I guess Abigail’s the right person to set up a bonfire, huh?” Cassandra replies, “Should we be bringing anything? Booze?”

“Isn’t it a dry beach?”

Cassandra grins. “Not while I’m around. Just don’t go actin’ a fool.” 

Carlos grins back. “But that’s all I know how to do!” 

Cassandra laughs as she makes her way to their creaky stairs. “I’ve got a couple assignments to finish up. Holler when you’re ready, yeah?” 

“For sure.” As Cassandra takes her leave, Carlos’ attention goes to their backyard, empty patches where grass could never seem to grow taunting them. 

He could feel the Earth outside. 

It was calling to him. It’d been calling the whole time they were eating dinner, and it was all consuming. 

He takes off his socks and walks out the back door, the screen door hanging in front of it squealing on its hinges as it flops and stutters upon being opened. His pulse starts to quicken as his feet make landfall on actual dirt, the ground echoing in ripples in his wake. He curls his toes, condensing the dirt between each digit.

For the longest time, his Calling only brought back his worst memory. It reminded him of falling, falling through material and concept, falling until he had nothing left to fall through. 

But now, he could only recall the exhilaration and terror felt from a stomach dropping. 

He’d allowed the Earth to come back in, and this allowance was growing. 

Before, he could only think of what would happen if he never reached the bottom.

Now, he could only think of the possibilities of what he could fall into. 

If I can make a geyser from the Earth, what else can I do?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, well, well, look who made it here first?” Abigail says, a wide crooked grin spreading across her face. In her arms are as many pieces of firewood as her small arm radius could carry, a small chunk of a pile compared to what Arihiro had been able to bring.  

Arihiro turns away from the ocean, and smiles when he sees the slight glow from Abigail’s yellow eyes. “You and your sister talk exactly the same,” he says, brushing off his pants as he stands. He’d already placed his firewood into a carefully constructed pile, and scanned the wood held by Abigail to route where they’d be most efficiently placed.  

“Huh? We do not,” Abigail groans, “Jesus, how big of a fire were you planning on building?”

Arihiro shrugs. “Actias and I usually collect way more than this for our bonfires.” 

Abigail laughs and examines the pile. “This is like, a ritual fire. We performin’ some rituals out here tonight?” 

“Gotta ward off the bad juju somehow, right?” Arihiro asks, now very conscious that this pile of wood was half his height. “We can chop it down -”

“It’s fine, I can put out the fire whenever.” 

Arihiro chuckles. “Right.” 

The sounds of the crashing waves are only a faint background noise, the ocean quiet on a windless night. The sky was free of clouds, and the moon was now taking center stage. 

“The Peacekeepers coming tonight?” Arihiro asks, a nervous hesitation clear in his voice. 

“Nah, they just got settled into their new places. We’ll let ‘em relax.” 

“Cool. I like this better.”
“Me, too. Sorry you couldn’t be there to make that call with us.”

Arihiro’s head snaps in Abigail’s direction, the two of them seated on separate logs from their collections. “Huh?”

“About the Peacekeepers, I mean. I just wanted to get it over with, and didn’t think about how you’d feel until it was too late.” 

“Oh,” Arihiro says, deeply confused, “You wanted me to - ? Why?”

Abigail returns his confusion. “You’re a part of the team, right?”

“....Oh.” His eyes trail off from Abigail’s, and he looks out towards the ocean again. 

He stays quiet for a moment. 

“...Y’good?” Abigail asks, reaching over and nudging Arihiro. 

Arihiro smiles and snorts a soft laugh. “Yeah. I guess I am part of the team, aren’t I?” He asks, his attention returning to Abigail. “Knowing it’s Michael and Maya? I feel fine about it.”

“Why’s that?”

“They’re a couple of idiots, just like us,” Arihiro says with an exasperated laugh, “Cogs in the machine of misery. Called Upon throwing away their lives to figure out why they were called upon in the first place.” 

“Why do you think it is?”

“Hmm?” Arihiro raises an eyebrow. “Why we’re called upon? No reason at all. Just random happenstance and bad luck.”

“Interesting.”

“Is it?”

“Mmhmm.” Abigail hums, biting the tip of her thumb as she thinks. 

“And why do you think it is?”

Abigail nibbles on her nail and sighs. “I dunno. I’d like to think it’s for some purpose, but it seems like it’s too big a picture. We only get so many puzzle pieces, and we don’t know how many dimensions the puzzle has. That being said, I can help a lot of people with this Calling, so I can’t say it’s inherently bad.” 

“Is that what we’re meant to do, though? Just play the role of the savior of society?”

“If we can, we should, right?”

Arihiro shakes his head. “At what cost, though?”

Abigail looks at him like it’s a no-brainer. “Whatever it takes.”

The answer gives Arihiro pause, and he starts to feel a similar feeling creeping into him that Carlos once felt. “But what about you?”

“I can handle the consequences. Besides, I know that whenever I get home, I have the most wonderful critter in the world waiting for me, and honestly, that’s enough. If the reward I get for everything I do is another moment with her, I’ll never stop.”

Arihiro feels an argument brewing within him, but elects against pursuing it any further. “Must be one hell of a critter,” he jokes. 

Abigail’s focused expression instantly melts as she whips her phone out of her pocket at lightning speed, shoving her home screen in Arihiro’s face. “Miki.” She says, her wallpaper a picture of her sweet gray rabbit curled up in a deep sleep. “My pride and joy.”

“She’s precious,” Arihiro says, loosening his shoulders with this shift in conversation. “How old is she?”

“Oh. Uh, she’s…nineteen…” Abigail mumbles.

“...Excuse me?”

“....Nine..Nineteen.”

Arihiro blinks rapidly. “I don’t know anything about rabbits.”

“Oh. That’s old as hell. Like, world record old. But you wouldn’t believe it if you looked at her.” She says, pulling her phone away, “And you better be prepared to learn a lot about rabbits.” 

Arihiro laughs. “Can’t wait.” 

“Seriously. They’re cool. And everything about them has a cute name.” 

“Like?”

“When they get excited, they jump high in the air and run around, it’s called a binkie.” 

“Cute.”

“When they get a runny nose, it’s the snuffles.”

“Also cute.”

“And…well, that’s all the examples I had, but you get the idea.”

“Sure,” Arihiro says. He watches as Abigail hesitates before putting her phone in her pocket, taking an extra second to look at her rabbit, a sweet smile planting itself on her face. The moon’s pale blue light reflected off her eyes, and he swore he could see purple sparkles of flame shimmering around her. 

For just a moment, he could palpably feel the love she felt for Miki.

He feels himself melting. 

Abigail looks back to Arihiro for a moment, and turns her attention to the primed bonfire behind her. “It’s finally dark enough. Let’s light ‘er up!” She shouts, hopping up from her seat and positioning herself beside the firewood. “Ready?”

Arihiro grins. “Light ‘er up.”

A spark of purple light ignites the bonfire, the flames initially shooting up several feet in the air before settling at a much lower intensity. The wood was barely burning, but provided a warm and comforting heat. 

“That’s a good party trick,” Arihiro says, admiring the beautiful purple flames in front of him. 

“Finally, someone with some culture,” She replies, sitting in the sand next to Arihiro’s seat, curling her legs up into her hoodie. 

The burning flames provided a tapping percussive beat from crackling wood, harmonizing with the ocean’s gentle rhythmic sway. Arihiro closes his eyes and lets the quiet concert ring in his ears, a sweet lullaby from his worries and fears. 

“I do it for Actias,” Arihiro says. 

Abigail nods. “He’s your Miki?”

“Not exactly, but it’s close enough. Long story, but…well, he’s saved my life a million times over. He gave me a home and a goal when I had neither. And we’ve…I guess we’ve really grown up together. You know he originally wanted to eat me?”

“Wha -”

“Like I said, long story. Complicated.”

“Christ.”

“Anyway, uh, I guess it’s like…I’d hate for him to realize I’m never coming home, y’know? So every time I bite off more than I can chew, I do whatever I can to make sure I go home.” Arihiro explains, tilting his head down towards Abigail, “Something like that?”

Abigail nods with a wide smile. “Exactly like that. I can tell you why you bite off more than you chew, too.”

“Yeah?”

Her smile crooks into a grin. “Because you just can’t help yourself.”

Arihiro sheepishly returns the smile, his reaction an acknowledgement of truth. 

“I get it. Shit, that’s my bread and butter right there. That’s why I tried so hard to find you, y’know. If we’re both going to fall into the deep end,” she says, face softening, “We might as well do it together, right?”

Arihiro feels his face flush. “Right.” 

Their private concert finds itself gathering more guests as two flashlights shine over the ridge of the dune, and the Dumaresq siblings come into view. “You said it was a quarter mile down the beach!” Carlos shouts, his voice barely audible. 

“I said it was a mile quarter down the beach!” Abigail shouts back. 

“Your inability to speak has foiled me again! No one says it like that!” 

Abigail laughs and throws herself back up, running over to Carlos and Cassandra. 

As she leaves, Arihiro’s smile slowly fades, and he remembers his session with Lea. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“...I’ll do what I can to help you. But I need you to promise me something first.”

Arihiro pulls back, taken off guard by this request. “Promise you what?”

Lea stares intently at him, her eyes shifting in focus between each of his as she constructs the right sentence. “It’s about Abigail.”

“...yeah?”

“You’ve seen her Calling, right?”

“Right?”

Lea shakes her head. “Arihiro. When I say you’ve seen her Calling…you know what I mean, right? Not just those normal purple flames. The dark ones. The really strong ones.”

Arihiro feels a deep shiver forming in his spine, and it’s all he can do to keep it from taking hold. He slowly, worriedly nods. 

Lea’s gaze sharpens in intensity. “....Okay. So, when she’s doing that? She…” Lea clicks her tongue, shaking her head and struggling to find the words, “She really shouldn’t be doing that.”

“...Why?”

“It’s not coming from the right place when she does that. And I’ve seen the consequences of what happens when she pulls from it. Arihiro,” she says, leaning in close to his face, “Whatever you do, I need you to promise me, to swear to me, that you will never let her use that fire again. Ever. Whatever it takes, whatever it does to you, you have to bite that bullet. She can never use that fire again.”

All the plants in the house begin to wobble, their vines vibrating and their leaves humming in a flurry of energy. 

Arihiro feels a sharp pang of terror shoot through him. He can barely manage a nod. “Yes. I get it. Never again.”

Lea maintains her stare, but the energy of the room begins to soften. “Swear it.”

“I swear I will do anything it takes to keep her from using that fire.” 

She nods slowly. “Okay. Okay. Good.” She says, the energy suddenly plummeting, her plants all slightly wilting in the release of breath. “Sorry that…I’m sorry. I swear I’ll do what I can for you too, okay?”

Arihiro nods back, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. His panic takes a sharp turn into concern when he sees a tear fall down Lea’s face, and his eyebrows instinctively furrow in response. “Thank you.” He says, now giving her a determined nod of reaffirmed conviction. 

He resolved, at that moment, that this promise would be his purpose alongside Actias. 

And at the beach, his resolve was cemented. He would do anything it took to save Abigail O’Hare from her own convictions. 

What neither he nor Lea knew, however, was that it was already far too late. 

It had been there the entire time. 

Shoulders hunched, arms trailing in front, a single glowing eye visible beneath a matted silhouette of hair. It stood just past the dune, awaiting a cue that was yet to come. 

Abigail couldn’t see it, but only because she chose not to look. 

She knew it was there the entire time, too.