Remember

Episode Seven: Countdown

Chapter One

In times like these, Aldrik preferred to hide in his room. He'd huddle under the blankets on his bed with a pillow clamped over his ears, trying anything he could to ease the headache that pressed against his skull. He writhed, arching his back, gagging on his own cries of pain.

The Voice was relentless as it broadened to its full expanse inside his mind, testing the boundaries. Sometimes it would do this just to remind Aldrik of its power, but today, it was a punishment.

"I won't do it!" Aldrik hissed into his blankets, his thoughts forced out of his mouth by the invasive presence in his mind.

"Then you will never be king." The Voice spoke as if it were his own thought, leaving no room for Aldrik's own insight.

"Basile will give me the crown. I just have to show him how powerful I am!"

"You have no power. No throne, no heir. You have not even grazed the cover of the Dark Prognosticus. You are nothing."

Aldrik turned his head to hide his face in his pillow, breathing deeply to give himself something to focus on other than the pounding in his skull. "I won't kill my own brothers!"

"Then you are weak, just like the others before you. A new vessel shall be born soon. One I will be able to bend to my will. One stronger than you."

"But...as you said, I have no heir."

"And so shall your bloodline die with you."

"No! I will find a wife. She will bear me a child, and then...then you will have to listen to me. I'll have an heir, and I'll convince Basile to give me the throne."

The Voice finally released its pressure, fading back with a reverberating cackle. "Very well… If you are so confident, prove it to me. Produce an heir. Become king. But in twenty years' time, if you have not succeeded, I will find my next vessel, and I will not leave you alive to reveal my secrets. Until then, I will enjoy watching you suffer…" The Voice laughed again, slinking away to the recesses of Aldrik's mind. His head felt cavernous in its absence.

Turning over, Aldrik exhaled a shaky breath. Twenty years...well, then he would do it in ten, or five, just to spite The Voice. He'd do it. And he'd do it on his own terms.

"Why do you trouble yourself with searching?"

Aldrik shielded his eyes as he arrived on the windy butte and scanned the area as efficiently as possible, looking for signs of Blumiere. "He must be here somewhere."

"Do not waste what little time you have left on such inanities."

"I will find him."

"I will not allow you to kill the vessel, even if you find him."

"No," Aldrik said, his voice rising with the wind and echoing through the rocky valley below. "He will die, and it must be before Basile arrives."

The Voice shifted, squirming uncomfortably inside of Aldrik's mind.

"Your fool of a son will never be my vessel, no matter how you wish it to be true."

"Be quiet! I know what is best for my son!" Aldrik thrust The Voice into the back of his mind. Blumiere's signature was fading. Dimentio must have cloaked it again, just a few seconds too late. Sloppy. He should have known the exact moment to readminister the spell. Walking to the edge of the butte, Aldrik examined the trees closely. Now, which way did you go?

"Don't forget who holds the power of the prophecies." The Voice emerged as a murmur, pulling itself bit by bit through the fibers of his mind. "I have already written your wretched half-breed out of the Dark Prognosticus."

"You shouldn't have done that," Aldrik spat.

"I could have written him out of existence entirely."

Aldrik shuddered despite himself.

"The child is worthless. I have already chosen my next vessel."

Aldrik insisted, "You cannot make this decision yourself. I will kill Blumiere, and then you will have no choice but to obey me."

The Voice broadened, pressing against the edges of Aldrik's mind with dark laughter.

"We have to leave without him."

Timpani's voice cut through the suppressed panic, the shuffling of feet, movement of belongings, the crowding in the doorway, the urgent looks out the windows. She was standing with one foot out the door, watching the ever-brightening sky.

Merletoph's strained voice sounded from inside the house. "No. Dimentio is essential to our survival. We must wait for him." Timpani looked back into the old man's yellow eyes, wrinkled with stress, seeing deep anxiety in his stare.

"He's right," Blumiere said, shuffling through the doorway to stand by her side. "If Dimentio doesn't come with, my father will be able to find me. He's the only one who can keep my signature cloaked."

"And why can't you do that yourself?" Timpani was struggling to keep the irritation out of her voice. Just a few hours ago, she was intent on staying behind and avoiding this mess. Now she was beginning to wish she had stood her ground and let Blumiere go without her.

"Even if I could use the spell," Blumiere replied, "I wouldn't be able to use it on myself. That's not how it works." He was not trying to hide his frustration. "We have to wait for Dimentio."

"The kid saved me life," Kathleen chimed in. "The least we can do is wait a little longer."

Timpani turned to watch the sky again, holding her tongue lest she said anything she would regret later. She had a hard time trusting Dimentio, even if he had returned Blumiere safely, and exactly when he said he would. He was unnerving, an anomaly of a child, and she was just waiting for him to step out of line.

"Come inside, Timpani," Blumiere urged her, grasping her hand and giving her a little tug. She wrenched her hand away, not particularly wanting to be touched right now, and turned to go inside herself. She knew it wasn't doing any good to watch the sky, but she was hoping by being halfway out the door, she would be able to encourage the others to get a move on.

She caught Blumiere's hurt gaze as she crossed the threshold. With a small sigh, she reached for his hand and held it tightly in hers, offering a silent apology. Then, as one, they sat next to Kathleen on the couch in the living room, waiting for Dimentio to return.

Suddenly, Mimi bolted out of the bedroom, her green pigtails bouncing wildly. "He's awake! He's awake!" she cried.

Everyone in the room was on their feet in a matter of seconds, even Kathleen, who was still healing from her encounter with the Tribe of Darkness. They all knew Mimi was talking about Ronan, who had been in and out of fitful sleep over the past three days. His wounds had not been as serious as Kathleen's, but since he was so young, the magic had taken a toll on him. The current plan was to carry him to his grandmother's house before beginning their journey, but if he was actually awake now, they would be able to properly say goodbye to him. Timpani followed Mimi back into the bedroom, preceding the others by a few steps.

Ronan was tucked into Merletoph's bed, snug beneath several layers of blankets. His eyes, rimmed by dark purple circles, were half-open, but they fluttered as Timpani approached him. He turned his head toward her.

"What happened?" Ronan croaked. His dry lips were pulled into a frown, but they eased upward once he noticed Blumiere. "Oh, Blue! Yeh're okay! I was—" he cut off with a cough that shook his entire body. "I was so scared. Yeh're family's really mean, they...they tried to hurt Kathleen an' me pretty bad…"

Timpani didn't miss the way Blumiere flinched at that. "Yes," he mumbled, "it wasn't a fair fight. I'm...so sorry, Ronan."

"We must explain to the boy what happened," Merletoph said, easing himself into the conversation. "And...we must explain to him what our next course of action is."

As Ronan craned his neck to see Merletoph, Kathleen pushed past Timpani to stand at the boy's side. She brushed a hand through his hair. "What d'ya mean?" Ronan asked.

Merletoph breathed out a sigh. "Child...first, we must return you to your grandmother. But after that, I am afraid the rest of us will be leaving this world, for a very long time."

With one hand trailing along the black, stone wall for support, Dimentio crept down the halls of the Tribe's castle. It was quiet. Thanks to his father's agenda, everyone was out of the castle and on the hunt for Blumiere.

Well, that was what he'd hoped, at least. As he reached an intersection, he heard sounds coming from the corridor to his right. A baby's cry, followed by the murmuring of its mother. Dimentio recognized the voice of Arabelle, who was effectively his cousin, or his father's brother's daughter. Of course, they'd never actually met, but Dimentio knew she spent a lot of time on her long, wavy hair, hated the smell of flowers, and never really cared to be a mother. She was only carrying out her duty to keep the Tribe of Darkness from dying off completely, though Dimentio could name quite a few of the Tribe's young men who could be the child's father, unlike what Arabelle's husband might like to believe.

Arabelle knew nothing about him. And with his hat and mask still laying on the roof of the castle, he would look like nothing more than a human.

Dimentio decided he wouldn't let her see him. But, that was easier said than done without his magic. The castle's front doors were still far ahead of him, and he doubted he would have the strength to run the whole way there.

He heard footsteps just before he locked eyes with Arabelle as she turned the corner. Biting back a gasp, he cursed his body in its present state. Not being able to sense soul signatures was like being half-blind.

"Oh."

Admittedly, Dimentio was expecting a bigger reaction than that.

Arabelle held her baby closer to her chest, her eyes narrowed inquisitively. "A human? How did you get in here?" Before Dimentio could begin to formulate a response, she continued, "I'd better get rid of you before King Basile returns."

Pushing himself away from the wall, Dimentio ducked just in time to evade a magic orb. Stumbling over his uncoordinated feet, he tripped forward and fell on his stomach, pushing all of the air out of his lungs with an "Oof!" In a mad scramble, he was able to shove himself to his feet again, but he was having a hard time keeping his balance without the wall for support. He passed by Arabelle, who readied another orb lazily.

"Your parents are dead, child," she said. "Or your brother, or sister, or whoever you're looking for. None of the humans who attacked us survived."

Her bored, monotonous voice would have sounded chilling to anyone who hadn't been raised by Aldrik. Dimentio just wondered how this conversation would go if she knew they were cousins, or if she knew he was anything but human. Brushing his long hair out of his eyes (on one hand, it was nice to feel his hair; on the other hand, it wasn't so nice when it blocked his vision), he focused on putting one foot after the other, coordinating each step so he wouldn't stumble again. It took more concentration than any two of his magical spells combined.

Risking a glance backward just in time to see Arabelle vanish, Dimentio was able to skid to a stop as she reappeared directly in front of him. He was not fast enough, however, to escape from the hand that grabbed his wrist, yanking him back toward her. He gasped as her fingers pressed into his bruised skin.

With one arm still cradling her baby, Arabelle raised Dimentio's hand above his head until he had to stand on his tip-toes to relieve some of the tension in his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, he tried to hold back a cry of pain.

"I wish I could make this quick. Or any less painful," Arabelle said. "Sorry. If it makes it any better, your family's probably waiting for you, wherever you go."

Dimentio's struggle was in vain. He tried to twist his wrist out of her grasp in order to avoid what he knew was coming, his stomach clenched in anticipation of the pain—

What he wasn't prepared for was the liquid that trickled down his arm. It was thick, dark, and familiar.

The spell didn't work? It didn't work!

Confusion knit Arabelle's brow, and as she readjusted her grip to try again, Dimentio felt his wrist slip. He tugged downward, using the slickness of the failed magic spell to slide his wrist out of her grasp. As soon as he was free he made a break for it, sprinting toward the front door with renewed adrenaline.

Coming upon another intersection, he veered right. He was just 20 meters and a left turn from freedom.

Something struck him in the back, sending him flying forward. It had such power that, though he braced his fall with his hands, he tumbled head-over-heels several times before skidding to a stop. He coughed and rolled over, feeling the cold touch of the floor on a small section of his back.

She burned a hole through my shirt. But it did nothing to my skin.

"What's wrong with you?" Arabelle's voice drifted over him. He could hear her footsteps clicking closer. "Why can't I hurt you?"

Oh, she'd hurt him, just not in the way she'd intended. In spite of his aching body, Dimentio grinned, an idea coming to mind.

"Aha ha ha ha!" He sat up slowly, relishing the look of unease on her face at his unrestrained laughter. "Of course you can't hurt me. I don't exist." He pushed himself to his feet.

Arabelle's expression was nothing short of pensive. "What do you mean?"

"Be careful, Arabelle."

A gasp knocked her back a pace as he said her name. "What? How do you—?"

"If you keep attacking me, you'll make me very angry." He took a few steps toward the castle's entrance. "I know a lot more about you than just your name. Aha ha. It would be a shame if your husband found out about your long nights in his brothers' rooms. Aha ha ha! Imagine his surprise!"

"What...what are you?"

He touched the door, thankful for something to lean on. "A spirit. A ghost. A figment of your guilty conscience. Someone you'd be better off forgetting." He pushed the door open, inviting a stream of early-morning sunlight into the hallway. It fell over his cousin, illuminating her rigid shock. "Goodbye, Arabelle."

The door clunked shut behind him. He wasted not a moment to catch his breath, knowing he would need to make himself scarce in case she decided to pursue him. The path to the humans' town was not far, and once he rounded the corner he'd be out of sight. It took him about two minutes and three uncoordinated stumbles, but he made it to the gate and down the slope far enough that he wouldn't be seen by anyone on top of the hill.

His quivering legs begged for a moment of rest. Collapsing against the rocky wall, he rubbed at the aches in his hands, wrists, arms, and shoulders. His knees had taken the brunt of one of his falls earlier, and he could feel the bruises breaking through there, too. He was lucky he hadn't been hurt by Arabelle's magic, or he probably wouldn't have walked out of the castle alive.

He didn't allow himself to ponder why the magic hadn't hurt him. He didn't have time. With a groan, he forced himself to push away from the wall and keep running, though he'd barely caught his breath. He needed to get to Merletoph.

Merletoph. Once again, a bright glow tugged his mind in the direction of his grandfather's house. Feeling its warmth gave him a little more strength.

Without further delay, he made it to the bottom of the cliff and turned left instead of traveling further into the town. There wasn't a human in sight; it appeared they were all staying as far away from the castle as possible. The forest swallowed him up, providing ample cover but making running so much harder. Every little branch and plant grabbed at his feet, despite his best efforts to avoid them, and he found himself on the ground with a mouthful of dirt more than he would have liked to admit.

The pull of Merletoph's soul grew stronger with every step, urging him on even after he crashed through a bush he was too frustrated to go around. The whip of its branches left stinging streaks across his arms and face, but he pressed ever onward. He was getting close now.

At last, he burst into an open clearing, one he recognized. He knew Merletoph's house was hidden around here somewhere; his soul signature was pulsing as loud as Dimentio's own heart.

With a cough that sputtered air into his burning lungs, he fell to his knees in the soft grass. His face hit the ground a moment later as he was lulled into unconsciousness by his grandfather's comforting existence.

Dimentio shifted his head as he broke free from the tendrils of sleep and felt...fabric? Was he in a bed? No, unless the bed was somehow moving, and glowing with Merletoph's signature. He was wrapped up in something, or...was he being carried?

Forcing one eye open, he watched groggily as forest greenery bobbed past him. He was definitely being carried.

"Welcome back, my grandson." Merletoph's voice rumbled against his ear as it echoed through his chest. "Get some more rest if you can. We have a long journey ahead of us."

Apparently, he was exhausted enough to heed Merletoph's advice. Within seconds, he was back under, breathing in time with the rise and fall of his grandfather's chest.

The journey was designed to be as simple and succinct as possible. It was already proving to be less than so. They hadn't expected there to be so many humans left in town still (Timpani had assured them that she'd tried to convince as many as possible to leave, including her own aunt and uncle), and even though they didn't pay the group much attention, Blumiere couldn't help but huddle deeper into the hood of his cloak every time one of them passed by. He'd tied a scarf around the lower half of his face, so the only portion of his blue skin left visible was the narrow strip of his eyes, but he couldn't be too careful.

Kathleen was leading the group, taking them to their first and only stop: Ronan's house. She'd changed out of her dress and into more fitting traveling attire: slacks and a high-collared tunic. She had her sword strapped to her hip, means of self-defense if it was necessary. Ronan, who was convinced he could walk on his own, had been persuaded to walk next to Kathleen, hold onto her hand, and to tell someone if he was feeling unwell. Once he was safely in the care of his grandmother, the whole group would breathe easier.

Behind Kathleen, Timpani walked the streets with confidence. Blumiere stayed close behind her, trying to sap some of her strength, but he still flinched every time another human got too close. He kept his gaze trained on the heels of Timpani's boots and prayed to the stars that he would make it out of this alive.

Mimi would occasionally skip into view on his left side, despite Merletoph's efforts to keep her from wandering too far. She was currently in disguise as Ronan's twin (Mio, she'd called herself), though Merletoph had made her promise to change back immediately after they were safely away from town.

"When will he wake up?" Mimi asked. Even her voice sounded identical to Ronan's, save for the accent.

Merletoph's low voice replied, "When he is ready."

They'd found Dimentio laying in the grass just outside of Merletoph's house. Timpani had been the first to notice; she'd returned to her post by the door after Ronan had been caught up to speed.

"Why's he laying out there?" Timpani had asked. "He can teleport, can't he?"

After that, Merletoph had gone out to his grandson's rescue. He hadn't let go of him since.

None of them knew what had happened to him between the time Blumiere left him on the butte and his arrival outside of Merletoph's house. But one thing was clear: the boy couldn't use any of his magic. Merletoph wanted him to sleep for as long as he could, and Blumiere agreed that they should let him rest, but if Dimentio had information that would be vital to their escape plan, they'd need to know as soon as possible.

A human woman came too close to his right side, spiking his heart rate up. He'd just gotten his breathing back down to normal, too. She stopped, turning directly toward him, and Blumiere had to swallow back a gasp. He tried to make the turning of his head as inconspicuous as possible.

"Is he sick?" The woman asked, and it took Blumiere at least five seconds to realize she wasn't speaking to, or about, him.

"He is just tired," Merletoph said. "We have a long journey ahead of us, so he is resting while he can."

The woman hefted a traveling bag higher up on her shoulder. "We've all got a journey to make, what with those demons on the hill getting violent again. My family and I are traveling tomorrow morning. We've just got to make sure we have enough food, first." She laughed the kind of laugh that was devoid of humor, rimmed with shame, and cracked with pride.

Blumiere held his own bag closer. He'd been tasked with carrying their food supplies, which was well-stocked, even for the six of them traveling to The Gateway. Of course, it contained rations enough for several days if they couldn't find an inhabitable world in which to buy more food, but Blumiere couldn't help but wonder if they had any to spare for this woman and her family.

Alas, she was moving on before he could say anything. He shook his head, trying to assure himself that he wouldn't be able to offer anything to her without her trying to get a closer look at him. That was a risk they simply couldn't take.

When they finally made it to the other side of town and stepped into the cool shade of the forest, Blumiere felt like he could breathe properly again. Their small traveling group followed the thin trail toward Ronan and Kathleen's houses, finally speaking to one another in voices above a whisper.

"Yeh're sure I can't come with yeh?" Ronan asked, tugging at Kathleen's arm.

"Yes," she replied, good-natured for a question she'd probably answered before. "When I come back for yeh, we'll go on our own adventure. You, me, and yer Nanna. We'll find someplace nice to live."

"Are we gon' teh go to The Gateway, too?"

"Yes, when it's safer."

Blumiere jolted when he felt something touching his hand, only to clear his throat in embarrassment when he realized it was Timpani. She laced her fingers in between his, giving him a soft smile that made his heart flutter.

"Can you believe it?" Her blue eyes shone with adventurous excitement. "Tonight we'll be traveling to a completely different world. And who knows what it'll be like!"

With his free hand, he tugged the scarf away from his mouth. They were far enough away from town that he felt safe revealing a bit more of his face. "Wherever we go, it will be better than here," he said, returning her smile. "Somewhere people don't know who I am, or what I am. Somewhere we can love each other freely."

Timpani's smile grew into a grin. "We'll find it. Together."

"And to think you insisted on staying here."

She gave him a playful nudge with her shoulder. "Well, it's going to be hard to leave my family behind. But, if it's not safe here, not safe for us…" She leaned in to give Blumiere a kiss on the cheek. "At least I get to go on the journey of a lifetime with the man I love."

"Oh, Timpani."

"Yes?"

"You…" The proper words wouldn't align with his feelings, so he said, "You just make me happy."

She smirked in a poking-fun kind of way and said, "You make me happy too, Blumiere."

In front of them, Kathleen and Ronan suddenly skidded to a halt. Kathleen gasped and Ronan whispered, "Who is that?"

Blumiere dared to look for the 'who' they were speaking about. In the distance, leaning against Ronan's house, was a human boy. He looked to be about 15 or 16 years old, and his head was slumped against his chest like he was sleeping, or—

Quickly covering his face with the scarf again, Blumiere let go of Timpani's hand and followed Kathleen as she and Ronan began running toward the figure.

Ronan, despite his condition and his promises to Kathleen, broke free from the young woman and stomped inside his house, yelling, "Nanna! Nanna!"

Timpani and Kathleen were examining the human boy while Merletoph hung back with Blumiere, Dimentio still fast asleep in his arms. Mimi had the sense to stay by Merletoph's side, knowing what problems might arise if Ronan's Nanna were to see her with her current appearance.

"'E's alive," Kathleen said, and Merletoph nodded as if he already knew that. "Out cold, and a bit bruised. But breathin' fine."

"I recognize him." Timpani shifted so she could get a closer look, brushing some of the boy's long, dark hair away from his eyes. "I've seen him in town. I don't know his name, but I think his father is a Trader."

"What's 'e doing out here alone, then?"

Ronan burst out of the house before anyone had the chance to think of an answer. His face was scrunched like he was trying not to cry. "It's Nanna," he whimpered, "she's gone!"

A/N:

Hello everyone! Thank you so much for sticking with me through this fic, and a huge thank-you to everyone who's commented so far! It's crazy to think that I've bee working on this project for seven years now...I'm determined to finish it!

I would also like to give a huge thank-you to the reading group on Discord who has been listening to this story for the past several months. Without you, I would not have the motivation that I do. If any of my readers are interested in sharing SPM fanfics with an awesome community or interested in hearing me narrate Remember live (or listening to other authors' works), I can PM you the link to the SPM Discord server!

Thanks again for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I would greatly appreciate your feedback! :D