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#brigid writes fanfiction


Chapter Six of Fantasy Masks
A JSE Fanfic
[This is the first part of an ongoing fic series I started in June 2021. Marvin begins searching for the King, planning to kill him. But instead he finds someone else...someone he might grow to consider a friend.]
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The noble family Portmota lived on the edge of the Southern Moors, their castle built on the last bit of solid land before the rivers came in and flooded the south of the kingdom. Officially, their claim covered all of the Moors, but everybody knew that the Moors ran on their own, much like the mountain villages to the west and north. But the meagerness of their claim didn’t stop the family from building themselves a solid, grand castle. It sat on top of a small hill, surrounded by a thick stone wall. The castle’s multiple towers reached the sky, and were numerous to require a large staff to keep the place running for the noble family and any visitors they might have.

With such a large body of servants, it was easy to slip in unnoticed. They always accepted help, and as long as you didn’t appear troublesome, they’d immediately snatch you up and put you to work the moment you asked for a position, no interview needed.

This was something Marvin found out first hand when he decided to infiltrate the castle in preparation for the King’s visit.

Maybe they needed help to clean up for said visit, maybe they were always like this, the result was the same either way. All Marvin had to do was show up on the grounds, dressed in ragged clothes, and he was immediately hired by the head servant. She didn’t even mind when he said he had to keep his cat nearby at all times.

Once he was inside, it only took him a few days to get a scope of things. Normally his sense of direction was terrible, but the servants were always being sent on numerous chores, so the castle’s layout quickly solidified in his mind. The cleaning and cooking was…hard, he had to admit. Unlike Jackie and Schneep, he hadn’t grown up doing chores, and taking care of things was a relatively new skill. He went to bed in the servants’ quarters exhausted. But this was a small price to pay for the opportunity that had presented itself.

He began to notice odd things about the castle. First of all, effort was put into cleaning and clearing every room in every wing, even the ones that had been sealed off so the heat wouldn’t escape into the winter air. Every candlestick was being polished, every tapestry dusted out. Why all the work? Unless…there was something big happening.

There were also a lot more people wandering around the castle. Visitors. Nobility, to be specific. An oddly high amount. Not that the nobility didn’t like to go see each other, especially for parties, but the Portmota claim was currently home to just one person: the Marquess Portmota, the eldest member of the family. Marvin knew all the other Portmotas were either traveling, or had married into other noble families and now lived with them. There were far too many visitors in the castle for one woman to entertain, even for something as important as a Longest Night celebration.

Not to mention the rumors circling through the servants’ ranks. News spread fast through this network, and soon, maids, cooks, and gardeners were muttering to each other about the King himself visiting.

Marvin tried not to get too close to any of these servants. It would just…get in the way. Sure, many of them were friendly to him, offering to share lunches or spend their breaks with him. But…no, it wouldn’t work out. It couldn’t. Besides, he didn’t need them. All he needed was his familiar, Draco.

He’d been in Portmota Castle for a week when the rumors started to buzz. The cleaning suddenly intensified, and the visitors to the keep began strutting about in their finest clothes. One night, to confirm his suspicions, he asked a laundress named Mina what was going on.

“Huh? You mean you haven’t heard? You haven’t seen?” Mina glanced about the laundry room where she was busy working. Seeing nobody else nearby, she leaned close to Marvin and whispered, “They’ve seen the King! Here!”

Marvin’s eyes widened in exaggerated surprise. “Really? Why would he be here?”

“Why would he be here? For the Longest Night celebration!” Mina chuckled. “Elders, Westley, you can be oblivious,” she said, calling him by the fake name he was going by.

“Oh. That makes sense.” Marvin glanced down at the floor. Draco was batting at a loose sleeve dangling from a laundry bin, so he quickly bent over and scooped him up before the cat could knock the whole thing over. “Who saw him? How’d they know it was the King?”

“A couple people. Teresa, Connor, Kelley. They saw a man fitting his description walking around, with the brown hair and slender build, and Teresa pointed out he was walking very purposefully. Dressed finer than all other lords who’ve come to visit.” Mina dumped some of the laundry into a washbasin as she talked. “Kelley got really close to him, too, when they were serving food in the hall. They said he had the royal green eyes.”

“Royal green. Wow.” Marvin pretended to be in awe, and made sure not to show off any of the burning anger smoldering inside him. “If he’s the King, where’s he staying? I don’t think any room here would be noble enough for him.”

Mina shrugged. “Nobody’s said yet. There are a whole bunch of new rooms made up for the visitors, hard to tell. It’s not like he’ll be hanging the royal crest on the door.” She glanced about the room again, then nudged Marvin’s shoulder with some urgency. “Oh no, Ursula is coming. Better get out of sight before she demands you stop standing around and start working.”

“Right.”

That conversation was abruptly cut short, but Marvin got a lot of information from it. Namely, that the King really was here. The detail about the royal green eyes sealed it. Yes, the royal family were once known for their distinctive shade of green eyes, but none of them had actually been born with the color in recent generations. Until the current king. Something like that wouldn’t be forgotten easily. Now the question was how to get close to him.

He spent two days trying to figure out which room the King was staying in, but in the end, the answer fell right into his lap.

It was early morning, and he was in the kitchen, kneading bread for the day. It was a task he often volunteered for; something about the kneading motion was very calming to him. Even if Draco wandered around and tried to get under the feet of every grumbling chef and baker.

With no warning, the door suddenly flew open, and a voice called, “Any of you lot free for a quick delivery?!”

Everyone looked over in unison. It was Ursula, the head servant. “Depending what the delivery is!” answered Everett, the head cook.

“We need a breakfast tray prepared quick!” Ursula demanded. “It’s urgent!”

The chefs and bakers muttered amongst themselves. “How urgent is it?” Everett asked.

Ursula huffed. “Very. One of the lady’s important guests ordered it. And we don’t wanna upset him.”

Marvin’s head shot up. Could it be…?

“Alright, don’t get your skirt twisted, Helendaugh,” Everett muttered, rolling his eyes. “We’ll make one up. But you’ll need someone else to bring it up. We’re all busy here, if you couldn’t tell.”

“No one else can bring it up! They’re all busy too! Sure, I could scout around for someone, but that’ll take too long! Do I need to repeat that he ordered it urgently? Or that we can’t upset him?”

Marvin slowly raised his hand. “Um…sir? If you give me a minute, I’ll be finished. I can do it.”

Everett gave his kneading station a once-over, then nodded, satisfied. “Alright, that’ll be just enough time to make up the tray. See, Ursula? Westley can do it, no problem.”

Judging by the tightness of her face and the way she was wringing her hands, Ursula still thought there was a problem. But she stepped back. “Okay. Westley, you’ll want to head up the central tower, all the way to the top room. Knock on the door, but don’t wait for a reply. Open it and slide the tray right in, then close it and leave.”

“I understand, ma’am.”

“Make sure you do. This is very important, for a very important guest.” Ursula took a few more steps back, right out the door. Then she shut it behind her.

Some time later, Marvin was practically running through the halls of Portmota Castle, Draco at his heels. The central tower was quite far away from the kitchens. Though…a tower room was odd. Most nobility preferred to stay in the keep itself, since towers got drafty, and walking up and down the stairs was rarely worth the view. Maybe the King was different? Eh. It didn’t really matter. The King wouldn’t be around long enough to enjoy that tower room.

Marvin stopped at the base of the central tower, breathing heavily. He quickly glanced around, but luckily, the area was clear of any servants or noble visitors. Good. He needed to be quick. He slid over to the wall and knelt down, putting the tray of food on the floor. There was a floor-length tapestry nearby, and he pulled it over his shoulders, partially hiding him from view.

Then he reached under his shirt and pulled out a pendant on a chain. A beautiful pendant, with its smooth, palm-sized emerald and silver frame looking too expensive for the rusted chain it hung from. Even though wearing it might give him away, he couldn’t bear to part from his magical focus. A wizard without a focus was like a painter without their paint. They couldn’t do anything without it.

Quickly, Marvin pressed two fingers to the surface of the emerald, which immediately started glowing. When he pulled his hand away, the glowing light stuck to his fingertips. He drew a rectangle on the ground with his fingers, leaving light behind like chalk on a board. Once the rectangle was fully formed, the middle of it faded away. Now, Marvin was looking at the inside of a small box. And inside the box were a few things. A small dagger, a bottle of brown glass, a coil of thread, a white handkerchief, and a candle. Marvin plucked the bottle out from the box. He reached for the breakfast tray—swatting Draco away in the process with a “No, not for you”—and pulled it closer. Then he unstopped the bottle, poured a few drops of the liquid inside onto all the food items, and stopped it again, putting it back inside the small box. Once the bottle was back in place, the glowing rectangle disappeared. The floor reappeared as solid stone once more, with no sign of the magical box that had just been there.

“Good,” Marvin said, grinning to himself. He pulled away the tapestry, picked up the food tray, and stood up. “Now for the most difficult part…the stairs.”

That statement was a joke—a joke for no one, really, since Draco was the only one around and he didn’t really understand human humor—but Marvin was definitely winded by the time he reached the room at the tower top. No matter how often he walked up stairs, no matter how frequently he’d done so in the past week, he still hated them. Maybe that said more about how fit he was than the design of the stairs themselves. Which made no sense, he’d spent the past few years running around the kingdom, surely he’d be more fit by now?

He was getting distracted. The room door was in front of him. Wooden. A fine door, but no more fine than literally any other door in the castle. Yet…the King was inside.

Following the instructions, Marvin knocked on the door, but didn’t wait for a reply before easing it open and setting the tray down on the floor inside. Draco almost poked his head through the gap, but Marvin pushed him back, then closed the door.

He waited for a few minutes. Expecting to hear movement inside. But there was nothing. Well…the room must have thick walls, then. With his task accomplished, Marvin turned back and headed back down the stairs, which proved much friendlier on the way down.

That poison worked quickly. By that night, they’d hear news of the King’s assassination.
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But that was not the case.

Marvin waited with anticipation, but nothing happened. There was no outcry of poison, no panic as the King’s lackeys were left unsure what to do. Things proceeded as normal. Leaving him confused. He was sure he got the dose right, and he’d made sure to poison all of the food on the tray. Hadn’t he?

The next morning, the exact same thing happened. Ursula barged into the kitchen, demanding a breakfast tray for an important guest. Everett said everyone was busy, and Ursula repeated the urgency. So, Marvin volunteered to deliver it again. Once he was alone, he took the poison from the hidden box and again dosed the food, making sure to add a bit more this time before putting the poison back and delivering the food to the top of the tower. He even had to push Draco back from the door again.

But still, nothing happened.

And when the same thing happened the next morning, Marvin was about ready to shout out “Am I going mad?!” But he didn’t, and instead played it cool. This time, Everett asked him to take the tray up ahead of time, expecting him to be able to. And of course, Marvin agreed, and secretly added even more of the poison. And of course, Draco once again tried to squeeze into the room at the top of the tower. Honestly, Marvin felt he should have more control of his familiar, but given how cats were impossible to order around under normal circumstances, he took Draco even LISTENING to him as a plus.

When nothing happened the fourth day, Marvin began to suspect something unusual was going on. Perhaps someone tampered with the poison? No, that should be impossible. That box was buried in the ground, far away from Portmota Castle. He could only access it because of his magic. But…maybe? If he tried again today and the King still did not die, he’d try a different method.

So once more, he took the breakfast tray when offered, headed to a private area to get the poison out of the box, added yet more of it to the food, and trekked up the stairs to the room at the top of the central tower. He knocked on the door, then without waiting for a response, opened it to slide the tray inside.

And the instant the opening was big enough, Draco leaped through the gap and into the room beyond.

“Draco!” Marvin cried out, dropping the breakfast tray. Without thinking about what to do next, he threw the door open and rushed inside to scoop up his cat.

But of course, there was someone in there. Someone who’d been startled by the sudden appearance of an off-white cat, but was even more surprised to see someone run into the room after it.

Marvin skidded to a halt, looked around, and before he could even think about it, blurted out, “You’re not the King.”

The person inside slowly shook their head.

“Oh.” Marvin took a step back. Now that he wasn’t worried about his familiar jumping into the hands of the King, he gave the stranger inside a once-over.

The person—Marvin now recognized him as a man—looked a bit like the King, at a first glance. He had brown hair, as most people in the kingdom did, and was fairly thin. But he was shorter than the King was said to be, had a distinct, dark mustache, and most importantly, blue eyes. Not green. His clothes were fine, indicating nobility, but the style was a bit old fashioned. Like the black bow he wore around his neck, something that had gone out of style at least ten years ago.

Draco was sitting on a stool next to the man, looking very self-satisfied. Evidently, the strange man had started petting him right before Marvin barged in.

“Well…sorry, then,” Marvin said awkwardly.

The man smiled and shrugged. He gestured to Draco.

“Huh? Yes, sorry about him. And about barging in, I wasn’t thinking.” Marvin glanced around the room. “So…is the King going to be back soon?”

The man tilted his head, puzzled. And shook his head.

“Why do you look so confused?” Marvin took a minute to think. Then a possibility occurred to him. “Wait…is the King…not staying in these rooms?”

And the man shook his head again.

“Damn it,” Marvin whispered, barely audible.

Honestly, looking around the room, he didn’t think this place was fit for a king, anyway. Certainly, it was noble. There were plush sofas and chairs sitting about, and a desk with a mirror and stool in the corner. The windows had thick blue curtains that one could pull over to cover the glass. And he could see two more doors, both slightly ajar and showing a bedroom and a bathroom. But…it was rather small, in all honesty. The furniture was pushed together, and the blue wallpaper looked a bit old. Not to mention it was cold, as well, with no fireplace. Marvin wished he’d thought to bring a cloak, but the one he owned was too fine, and he had to leave it behind while masquerading as a servant.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed,” Marvin said politely. “They said someone very important was ordering the breakfast trays so—wait, have you been eating that food?”

The man looked embarrassed, and shook his head again.

“No? Well it couldn’t just disappear.”

Now even more embarrassed, the man pointed towards the bathroom.

“You’ve been…dumping it in the lavatory?” Marvin realized, shocked. “Every day? Well no wonder you look so thin, then, if you’ve been skipping breakfast the whole time.” He then remembered the tray of poisoned food he’d brought, and dropped in the hallway. “Oh. But ah, might have actually been a good idea this time. I mean, the—if I’m being honest, it was all undercooked, anyway,” he lied. “And the one for today is all splattered now. Sorry.”

The stranger smiled good-naturedly. He nodded.

“Um…I’ll just leave now.” Marvin took a few steps backwards towards the door.

Hurriedly, the man shook his head, gesturing for him to stay. Meanwhile, Draco pressed his head against the man’s arm, demanding pets.

“Oh. Right. Draco, come on.”

Ears drooping, disappointed, Draco hopped off the stool and walked out the door. “Sorry about all this,” Marvin muttered, backing fully out of the room and pushing the door closed.

As it shut, he could have sworn the man inside had a very strange expression on his face. Something like disappointment and desperation mixed in one.

How…odd. Marvin hesitated, wondering if he should go back inside. But…maybe he’d misread the man’s face. That was far more likely than…whatever he just saw. Yes. He should turn his mind to more practical matters. Like where the King was actually staying, if not here. And getting someone to come up and clean the tray he’d dropped.

But as he retreated back down the stairs, he felt somehow regretful.
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The next day, the order for a breakfast tray came in, as usual. Marvin wasn’t sure about delivering it, but by this point, he’d volunteered enough that Everett and Ursula expected him to. After all, it was much easier to have one person do something than to constantly find someone new every day. So Marvin quietly took the tray and headed to the central tower once more. This time, he did NOT stop to poison the food along the way. Now that he knew the King wasn’t there, it wasn’t much use.

When he knocked on the door, it swung open before he could pull it open himself. The strange man from the day before was standing there, smiling and practically bouncing with excitement. He immediately grabbed Marvin and dragged him into the room.

“Whoa! Watch out, you’ll spill the milk!” Marvin quickly set the breakfast tray down on the nearby desk, making sure nothing had fallen off. He didn’t want to make another mess.

The strange man didn’t respond to that comment. He was kneeling on the floor, petting Draco. Much to the cat’s delight, of course. There was a lot of purring.

“Why’d you do that?” Marvin asked. “Pull me in, I mean. If you want to know if the breakfast’s good to eat this time, it is. I…um, checked. Did you just want to pet my cat?”

The man made a so-so gesture.

Marvin suddenly felt frustrated. “Why don’t you just TELL me what you want?!” he snapped.

At that, the man stopped. He looked over at Marvin, then stood up. He was wearing another neck bow today, blue this time, and he silently pulled it down so that his neck was more visible. There, right in the middle of his throat, were two scars, arranged in a + shape. Clearly the result of some sort of surgery.

“Oh.” Marvin’s stomach immediately sank. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

The man waved away his stammered apology with a small smile. It was clearly a sensitive subject, but since it was an accident, all was forgiven.

“Still, I…I’m very sorry. Ah…do you have something to write with, maybe?” Marvin suggested tentatively.

The man shook his head. He did that a lot, didn’t he?

“…nothing at all? What about in this desk?” Marvin wandered over to said desk, opening the drawers. But the man was right. There weren’t any quills or chalk to be seen. There wasn’t even any stationary, and Marvin knew that nobles were fond of keeping their own personalized paper nearby in case writing was needed. Instead, the desk’s drawers were mostly empty, only containing a few game boards and card decks.

As Marvin looked through the drawers, the man walked over to stand next to him, watching. When Marvin opened the drawer with the cards inside, he reached forward and quickly snatched up one of the decks. He turned to Marvin, grinning, and pointed at him, then at the cards.

“You…want to play cards?” Marvin asked, trying not to sound excited.

The man nodded.

“Well…I’m supposed to have chores, but why not?” Marvin grinned as well. “I have to warn you, I’m very good at Luck of the Deal.”

That only made the man smile wider. He guided Marvin over to the sofas and gestured for him to sit.

A couple hours passed before Marvin remembered he had more to do. Not just chores, but he also had to locate the King before the Longest Night celebration, after which he’d leave and return to Suilthair, the capital, and be untouchable. So Marvin hurriedly excused himself, but found himself leaving with a certain spring in his step. It had been a while since he’d sat down and played a few card games with someone. He…really missed it.
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Over the next few days, he and the man in the tower developed a routine. Marvin would take a breakfast tray up to the room, and the man would drag him inside for a few games. Cards, mostly, though they pulled out some of the board games, too. The breakfast tray would be mostly ignored, though Marvin tried to insist that the man actually eat it. The stranger was on the thin side, after all, he probably needed a meal. A bit odd to see a skinny noble, actually. They could definitely afford enough to eat. But Marvin wasn’t going to ask, in case it was sensitive, like the voice issue.

There were, however, other questions that he wasn’t afraid to ask. The first one came up on the second day of this routine. They’d finished their first game of cards—Enchanter’s Gambit, a shorter one—and Marvin had asked, slowly, “Can you tell me your name? I understand you can’t speak it, but there has to be something I can call you.”

The man paused in shuffling the cards, thinking. Then he set down the deck, stood up, and walked over into the bedroom. A few moments later, he returned, holding something. He handed it to Marvin.

“A handkerchief?” Marvin asked, turning it over in his hands.

The man pointed to one of the cloth’s corners. Marvin examined it, and saw a small design embroidered in gray thread. A rabbit, curled up and sleeping, surrounded by a circle of thorny plants. It was the sign of a noble family. But not just any family. One Marvin instantly recognized.

“That’s the Jairsolas crest,” he gasped. “But—that’s—a-are you a friend of theirs, or…?” He trailed off, not needing to finish his question. The man’s grim expression confirmed everything. “That’s…impossible,” Marvin whispered. “They’re all dead.”

More specifically, they’d been massacred. By the King and his forces.

The death of the Jairsolas family had been one of the earliest signs of how dangerous the King was. The Count and Countess Jairsolas had ruled over the small family peacefully, loved by the people of their land. When the King began demanding more warriors, when he began taking away royal funds from medicine and farming, they were one of the nobles who protested. Eventually, they refused to enact his royal decrees in their northern territory, saying they would not compromise the welfare of their people. They accused the King of swiftly becoming a tyrant. The King immediately proved them right by forcibly invading their land and killing the entire family.

And yet, even after this clearly unwarranted act, there were still nobles out there who stood by the King. There were still warriors who pledged loyalty to him and believed in his cause. There were even common people who repeated that the King was just and good, though that was usually because they were simply unaware of what was going on. The nobles and warriors, however, had no excuse. They continued to fawn over the King and happily harm innocents. It made Marvin sick just thinking about them.

“I’m…so sorry,” Marvin said quietly.

The man nodded slowly, sadness flashing in his eyes. He must’ve been a more distant relative, to survive the King’s attack. Marvin, unsure what to do, placed a hand on his arm, hoping the gesture would convey the sympathy he felt. The man patted it, and smiled a bit, indicating it was alright.

“Jairsolas is a bit cumbersome,” Marvin said slowly. “Can I call you…Jair? For short?”

The man nodded, eagerly accepting the nickname. He pointed at Marvin, raising an eyebrow.

“Me? I’m M—I’m Westley.” Marvin remembered his pseudonym just in time, and quickly changed the subject. “Want to play another round?”

For someone who couldn’t speak, Jair was very expressive, gesturing widely and exaggerating his facial movements. Marvin assumed that was necessary, to compensate for not being able to say anything. Though it was odd that there were no writing utensils or parchment in his room. That seemed like it would be helpful, and easy to acquire, too. But Marvin didn’t want to push the issue. Maybe it was just a preference. Or maybe Jair assumed Marvin, appearing to be a servant, couldn’t read much.

Despite the issues of communication, Marvin proceeded with his questions. About eight days after the first breakfast tray delivery, he got tired of Jair continually ignoring the breakfast. That was perfectly good food going to waste. “Why do you even order the trays if you don’t want to eat them?”

Jair looked up, a bit surprised to be asked this while the two of them were in the middle of a game of Fidchell. He indicated himself, then shook his head.

“You…you mean you’re not the one ordering them?” Marvin asked, confused.

Jair nodded, confirming this, and looked back down at the board, moving a piece.

“Wh—how’d you do that?!” Marvin spluttered, momentarily distracted. “I was going to move one of the warriors there—you just cut off my path!” He scanned the board. “How did you surround my king AGAIN?!”

Jair laughed silently, a breathy sound, clapping his hands in delight at winning another game.

Marvin scowled. Draco promptly jumped onto the sofa and knocked over the board, scattering the pieces. “Yea, take down that game. I’m shit at it, apparently.” He sighed, and grabbed the cat, moving him to the side. “Who’s ordering the breakfast trays, then? Can you tell them to stop? It’s enough work as it is.”

Shaking his head, Jair pointed at Marvin.

“I could find some other way to get up here.” Marvin paused, noticing Jair’s slightly uncomfortable look on his face as he went about collecting the knocked-over game pieces. “Can you…not tell them to stop?” He thought about it for a moment. “It must be someone higher ranking than you, then. That would make sense, and it would explain why they always said someone important ordered the trays. Heh. Is it the King?”

Marvin asked the question jokingly, but for a moment, Jair’s shoulders stiffened. Then he brushed off the question, laughing without sound again.

That…couldn’t be right, could it? Why would the King go out of his way to order breakfast for some random noble? And one related to the Jairsolas family, which he destroyed? It didn’t make sense. There must be some sort of lie or trickery involved. Maybe it wasn’t actually the King. Or the King didn’t know Jair’s true identity. Or Jair didn’t know what happened to the rest of the family. Something like that.

Either way, Jair was quickly putting away the Fidchell pieces and board, clearly wanting to move on. So Marvin dropped the subject for the day.

But he still needed information. The King was somewhere in the castle. Other servants had caught glimpses of him, but Marvin still hadn’t figured out where he was staying, or run into him at all. Longest Night was approaching. He was running out of time. So, he decided to ask Jair a few more questions.

“Have you seen the King around?” he asked one day over a game of Saelan checkers. “Apparently he’s in the castle for the celebration, but I haven’t seen the tail of him. Others have, though. What bad luck, huh?”

Just like the last time he brought the King up, Jair stiffened, and immediately denied anything with a shake of his head. He pointed to the board.

“Right.” Marvin moved one of the small stone balls that served as pieces, getting closer to the end goal at the other side of the board. He wasn’t too good at board games, preferring cards, but he was better at this than he was at Fidchell. “I suppose I shouldn’t assume you’d know, anyway. I was just curious. I’ve never seen him. Does he really have green eyes?”

Jair nodded, distracted by planning out his next move.

“It’s strange that none of us know what room he’s staying in. That’s why I assumed he was staying here, ha.” Marvin watched Jair’s face as he continued to talk. “Is he even staying on the castle grounds? I know it’s traditional and all, but I don’t know if anyone would stop him.”

Jair shrugged. This time, his response didn’t seem like avoiding the question, but genuinely not knowing.

“Do you…I’ve never seen you out in the castle,” Marvin realized. “Do you stay in these rooms the whole time?”

Squirming, Jair didn’t answer, instead focusing on jumping one of his pieces over two of Marvin’s, capturing the last one.

“That’s not good for you. Staying in all the time, I mean. Especially when you don’t have a fireplace here. And it looks like an old room, you’re probably breathing in dust all the time. You don’t have to go out and make conversation with others, or even go outside, but just walk around. Do you even go to the main hall for dinner?”

Jair leaned back and looked away, folding his arms.

“Oh. Sorry, I…didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Marvin said. “I was just…worried, I suppose. You don’t eat breakfast, you don’t go out, you don’t have a fireplace…it’s just…worrying. I’m…worried about…your health.”

Despite the clumsiness of Marvin’s statements, Jair looked touched. He patted Marvin’s hand and gave him a reassuring smile.

“If you’re sure you’re alright,” Marvin said reluctantly. “Try to take care of yourself, though.”

Jair placed his hand over his heart, suddenly emotional. He nodded, smiling.

Had…no one ever said anything like that to him before? Had no one looked after him? Marvin felt something stirring deep inside his chest. A familiar ache. He’d…he’d never someone he could…well…relate to.

Marvin was supposed to ask more about the King, but he found he couldn’t go through with it today. He would try again tomorrow.
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The next day, Marvin arrived at the tower room a bit later than usual. It took them a bit longer to cook it today, since there was more food than the previous times. He hoped that meant Jair was planning to actually eat it, and not just feed pieces of sausage to Draco the whole time.

He knocked on the door, waited for a few moments for Jair to open, but when he didn’t appear, Marvin pulled open the door himself and walked inside. Huh. Jair wasn’t actually in the room. The bedroom and bathroom doors were closed, so maybe he was doing something in there. “Hello? I’m here,” Marvin called as he set the tray down on the desk. Something brushed against his legs, and he looked down to see Draco curling around his legs. “Hmm? What’s wrong?” Draco didn’t usually stick close to legs, not after too many occasions of people suddenly moving and tripping over him. And his tail was standing straight up, the fur all puffed out.

At that moment, the bedroom door opened, and Jair walked out. He waved at Marvin the moment he saw him.

“Tthere you are. I was wondering why you didn’t open the door.” Marvin glanced back down at Draco, still on edge, then back up. “Is everything alright?”

Jair nodded, waving away the question. He then walked straight over to the desk and started rummaging around the drawers, pausing for a moment to gesture at Marvin.

“Oh, I don’t want to do anything specific today. Maybe more cards?”

Nodding again, Jair pulled out one of the decks. While he walked over to the sofa and began shuffling, Marvin glanced around the room once more. Nothing looked out of place…what had Draco so spooked? He walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains, looking out the glass at the scenery. Clear skies ahead. On the ground below, there were…a lot of people in the surrounding open-air keep. More than he saw on the way over to the tower. That wasn’t too unusual, though. So Marvin closed the curtains again. “What were you doing?” he asked Jair.

Jair looked up at him, confused.

“I mean, you’re usually waiting for me. What was different this time?”

There was a slight pause. Then Jair shrugged. He pulled on the ends of his neck bow, tightening it, and followed it up with a so-so gesture.

“I don’t understand, what do you mean? Something about getting dressed?” Marvin asked. This whole thing felt…odd. Why did it feel odd? Was it just because Draco was still clinging to his legs?

Actually, Draco wasn’t just staying close to his legs. He was also staring at something, ears flat, a warning growl low in his throat. Marvin followed his line of sight…to the door they’d just come through. And…now that he wasn’t speaking, he could hear something underneath the sounds of shuffling cards. Faint, but growing louder.

Footsteps coming up the stairs.

Now why would someone be coming up the stairs? The only thing in the central tower were guest rooms. But most rooms were farther below, and the steps were definitely close enough to be heard. Meaning…someone was coming to this room. Why? Jair wasn’t exactly sociable. It could’ve been Ursula coming to get Marvin for chores, but…Marvin grabbed his amulet through his shirt, and his eyes lit up the smallest amount. No, he could sense more than one living person approaching. Quite a lot more, actually.

“Can I use your lavatory?” Marvin asked. He didn’t wait for Jair to nod before heading over and disappearing inside, closing the door behind him.

Just in time for the room’s entrance door to open, and for all those living people to fill the room. Accompanying the footsteps he’d heard before was the faint sound of metallic clanking, like…like chainmail. Or weapons.

Panic flooded Marvin’s mind. They’d discovered him, hadn’t they?! He had to get out of here! There was a small window in the bathroom, maybe just barely big enough to squeeze through. It was quite a drop to the keep below, but better than nothing. Marvin tried to break the glass with his fist, but only managed to crack it, so he pulled his amulet out and began to focus.

“Open up! We know you’re in there, traitor!” Bang bang bang bang bang!

“Damn!” Marvin cursed. They were knocking on the bathroom door. He didn’t have time to break the window, he needed to go through them! He whirled around—

The bathroom door slammed open, revealing three warriors wearing tunics with the royal crest. Marvin grabbed his now-glowing amulet and made a throwing motion. Light flung from his hands, hardening to stone as it hurled through the air, and three good-sized rocks hit each warrior in the chest, knocking them down. Marvin immediately bolted.

The small room was packed with other warriors, as well. Many were blocking his way to the door, armed with broad-bladed swords. Marvin threw more light to either side of him, and the warriors yelled as they tried to get out of the way of the suddenly-appearing rocks. For the ones in front, he pulled more glow from the amulet, forming it into a long, thin whip made entirely of green flame. He swung it around and many of the warriors scattered. Two stood their ground, acting quickly to pull circular shields from their backs and block the magic fire. But then Marvin was in front of them, his hands ablaze with more flame.

And then pain wrapped around his torso.

He looked down just long enough to register the black thorny vines wrapped across his chest before suddenly being yanked backwards. Pulled off his feet, he landed on his back and was dragged across the floor for some distance before suddenly stopping. He looked up and saw a face looking down at him. Unnaturally blue eyes. Pale blonde hair, stylishly curled around her face. And a few smattering of freckles, almost disappearing beneath a light layer of cosmetics. She looked as surprised to see him as he felt seeing her. “Marvin,” she said.

“Thalia,” Marvin scowled.

“I didn’t think it would be you. They said the servant’s name was Westley. Unless—you lied, didn’t you? Like you always do.”

“You’ve always been the liar.”

“No I haven’t. I’m always honest with everyone.”

“Nope. I know you haven’t told anyone about those secret visits to the mountains, have you?” Marvin laughed at Thalia’s surprised expression. “That was hard to find out, but I immediately recognized your handiwork. Burning the stone? Really? Talk about excessive.”

“Shut up,” Thalia snapped. She reached up and touched a silver-and-ruby broach pinned on her tunic. Her focus. Her eyes lit up. “I’m the one in charge now.”

“No you’re not.” Marvin grabbed his own focus, flicking the light from it up into her face. Thalia yelped as the glow turned into liquid and went into her eyes, and she lost concentration on the vine spell. Marvin shot up and looked around the room again. Now counting, there were ten warriors. One of them was holding his cat-shaped mask. Damn it! They went through his belongings and found it. He could have left it behind, but he brought it in case something happened and he needed it. Clearly that hadn’t been worth the risk.

All of the warriors were strategically blocking his ways out. The window, the door out, the doors to the bathroom and Jair’s bedroom—

Wait, Jair?! Where was he?!

Marvin didn’t have to look far. Jair was sitting in the exact spot he’d last seen him. On the sofa, having not moved a finger since the warriors and Thalia entered. His eyes were fixed downward, his hands clutching the deck of cards tightly in his lap. Marvin blinked. “Jair, what are you—”

Fog suddenly filled the room, unnaturally quickly, blinding him in seconds. Marvin whirled around, lighting up his amulet to try and see through the mist.

Dark figures lunged out of the fog and grabbed at him. Shouting, Marvin threw the light in a circle, turning it to green flame again. Several people cried out, and the fog lifted as the fire burned through it. Marvin saw the surrounding figures of the warriors, and then someone lunged at him from behind, wrapping legs around his and pulling his hair.

He yelped. “Thalia! Get off me!”

“No, give me that focus!” Thalia demanded, clawing at the chain around his neck.

“Die in freezing!” Marvin tried to grab his amulet, but that was a bit difficult while the chain was strangling him. He had to divert effort to giving himself room to breathe. “Who jumps on someone’s back?! You’re thirty years old!”

“You’re the one acting like a child! You stole that, I recognize it!”

“It was mine, too!”

After a few moments, the combination of struggling and the weight on his back caused Marvin to fall over, bringing Thalia down with him. The moment he was down, five of the ten warriors lunged forward, pinning him. He struggled, but there were just too many. Then Thalia pulled once more on the chain holding his amulet, and it broke. She backed away, holding the amulet upward in triumph.

Out of nowhere, there was a yowling sound. Thalia screamed as a streak of off-white fur ran at her and began clawing at her leg, tearing through her trousers while spitting and hissing. Instinctively, she kicked, and the ball of fur went flying across the room.

“Draco!” Marvin cried, managing to push free of the warriors for long enough to see his cat stand up again. “No! Get out of here!”

Draco wailed, then hissed, ready to attack despite being outnumbered by eleven tall humans.

“No! Out! Run!” Marvin’s magic was quickly fading without his amulet within reach, but he had to get Draco to safety. He looked Draco in the eyes from across the room. His flickered blue for a moment, and Draco’s eyes glowed for a second in the matching shade. Marvin sent the image of a safe place to go through the connection he had with his familiar, and followed it up with instructions on how to get there.

Reluctantly, Draco turned…then bolted, weaving in between the legs of the warriors in a sudden burst of speed. Once he reached the door, an unnatural wave of strength overcame him, and he pushed it open and disappeared. The warriors cried out, but Thalia called, “Let it go! It can’t do much!” She looked down at Marvin. “Really? A cat? Why not bond with something more useful, like a dog?”

“Fuck you!” Marvin shouted, and lunged at her.

Then a warrior brought the hilt of their sword down on the back of his head, and everything went black.



Chapter Five of Fantasy Masks
A JSE Fanfic
[This is the first part of an ongoing fic series I started in June 2021. Chase finally asks Henrik about the person everyone's been avoiding talking about. And in response, Henrik and Jackie tell him a story about the two of them and their old friend, Marvin.]
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It was snowing for the first time that year. Chase stood in the shadow of the dragon’s bones, hat pressed to his head, and watched it fall from the sky. The snowfall wasn’t particularly thick, but the flakes were fat and clumped together. It would probably leave a respectable layer by the time it was over.

It was ten days since Chase went out on his first mission with the Phantoms, and nothing much had happened in the meantime. Jackie and the two others on the mission were alright, Elin recovering from the magical burns she’d gotten from that wizard. Apparently no other missions had gone out since then, though there were a lot of messages coming in from other locations and Phantoms who were already out. Probably the most notable thing was the approach of the winter holy days. The winter solstice was only a few weeks away, and everyone was talking about preparing the celebrations.

There was the faint sound of footsteps in the snow, and soon Henrik appeared by his side. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Chase,” he said, adjusting his scarf. “I was delayed. Many people have come down with sudden cold sicknesses and I was handing out medicine.”

“It’s alright, Henrik,” Chase said understandably. “I think you should set up more fires, not just the ones for cooking. I’ve never been in a mountain house that doesn’t have a fireplace for winter.”

“Perhaps, perhaps.” Henrik nodded. “We could cut open holes in the canvas covering the storage and the skull, so that the smoke will not fill it up.”

Chase laughed a bit. “If you did that, the smoke would come out of the skull’s eyes and nostrils. Then it would really look like a dragon.”

Henrik laughed as well. “So, now then. Onto other matters. I will keep our reading lesson short today so that we can get out of the snowfall. Can I see the board you were using?”

Most of the lesson was spent refreshing and reviewing what Chase had already learned. Even though both of them had winter coats now, it was still cold standing out in the snow, and Chase’s fingers were quickly losing heat. Still, he felt like it was actually warmer than it should have been. Especially when it was snowing. Just as they were wrapping up, he decided to point this out. “You know, even though we’re high in the mountains, I feel like it’s warmer here than it would be back home. Isn’t that strange?”

“Oh, that is probably because of the skeleton.” Henrik knocked on the nearest bone. “Dragons were very magical creatures, you know. And most of their magic was fire and heat, in some form or another. Even after this dragon is long gone, its magic is still attached to its bones, and that is probably making it a bit warmer.”

“Huh. Fascinating.” Chase pressed a hand to the bone. It was cold as stone, but magic worked in strange ways, so he wasn’t going to doubt Henrik’s explanation. “For a doctor, you know a lot about how magic works.”

“Well, you have to be prepared,” Henrik said. “You could encounter injuries that were caused by any sort of magic. And witchcraft’s potions are excellent medicine.”

“Yea, but these are some intricate details. I understand Tripp and the other sorcerers here knowing about that, but you’re not a magic-wielder.” Chase shrugged.

“I keep my ear out for new things to learn. And I learned a lot from—” Henrik stopped. “From…my studies. Anyway, I think we can stop for now. You will just need to practice more, as always. It seems you’re having trouble with—”

“Why does everyone do that?” Chase blurted out.

“…do what?” Henrik asked, visibly confused.

“Practically everyone I’ve talked to has avoided speaking about something at some point or another,” Chase said. “A person, I’m guessing. I’m not one to pry, so I’ve just let it happen, but honestly it’s pretty frustrating.” His voice slowly grew in volume. “I’ve been here for half a season now. I have my own mask, I helped out last time, I’ve even done the dishes and other chores. Isn’t that enough? Am I not considered part of the group yet?! Does no one trust me?! I—” He sighed, and continued in a softer voice. “Sorry. I…It’s…frustrating, to have this happen over and over. And it…it feels…discouraging. Like I’m not really a part of everything, and nothing I do will…be good enough.”

Henrik didn’t respond for a while. Chase started to worry that he pushed too far, but then Henrik leaned in close and put a hand on his shoulder. “Chase. It is nothing to do with you, I can promise you that.” His voice was gentle, but firm underneath. “I am sorry for making you feel that way. It is just…well, it is still a sore subject for Jackie and me. But we never told anyone that they cannot talk about him. I suppose they just didn’t want to tell you in case we did not want you to know.”

“…oh.” Chase said softly. “Is it…sensitive? No, wait, you don’t have to tell me, it’s not my business—”

“No, I want to,” Henrik insisted. “Everyone else here already knows. Because they have all been here since it happened a year ago. You are the first new person we have found, so it makes sense that you are the only one who does not know.” He paused. “But I should talk with Jackie about how to tell you. It is about him, too.”

“I see.” Honestly, Chase felt relieved that it wasn’t the big secret he’d been building it up to be in his mind. It wasn’t a lack of trust, it was just personal. “I’m…sorry about all that. I guess Lukas has just been getting to me.”

Henrik scowled. “Ignore that ass. His mistrust is to a ridiculous degree.”

Chase laughed. “Hard to do that when he’s in charge of the crosses.”

“I am issuing an official decree to ignore him. Next time he does something based on suspicion, tell him I told you to ignore him.”

“Alright, I get it.” Chase laughed some more.

Henrik cracked a grin, too. “I will talk to Jackie about the matter you were worried about. We’ll tell you about it so people can stop being ridiculous about avoiding it.” He rubbed his hands together. “Whoo. Now I say we wrap this up and go somewhere warmer.”

“Great idea.” Chase brushed the snow off his hat. “We’ll be snow-covered statues if we stand out here any longer.”
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A couple days passed without anything extraordinary happening. Lukas tried to put him through more bow and arrow ‘training,’ to which Chase told him that he wasn’t supposed to listen to him. Naturally, Lukas looked upset about that, but he let off. Chase thought that was strange. Why was that what got him to ease up on his suspicions? But he was quickly distracted when Holly stepped in to give him some pointers on using his hunting knife in self-defense. Today, this involved her emphasizing that a knife of this design was used for cutting, not stabbing, and helping him to practice slashing a dummy with it. Chase felt he had the technique down, but it would probably be much more difficult when faced with a moving person.

Talk of winter celebrations continued. Evidently, every faith had a holy day on the winter solstice. Chase was most familiar with the Longest Night, which celebrated winter and paid tribute to the Elder of Dark, but that wasn’t the only one. There was also the Moonlight Festival, which Henrik told him was the Celestial Sisters’ winter holy day, and the Freezing, which Nemet said was part of the Temple of the Forge. So, naturally, practically everyone at Wyvernlair was excited to celebrate. Even those that weren’t faithful were looking forward to feasts and parties.

Then one night, about three days after his last reading lesson with Henrik, Chase was passing by the skull on his way to his tent, and he heard someone call his name. “Huh?” He stopped and turned towards the call. “Oh, hello, Jackie. How’re you doing?”

“I’m okay,” Jackie said. He had his mask off and the hood of his cloak—he still wore his waist-length red one, even though the cold might call for a longer one—pulled down. “Can you…come here for a few moments? We need to talk.”

Immediately, Chase’s nerves shot through the metaphorical roof. “Yea, of course.” He followed Jackie into the skull.

The whole place was empty, which was unusual. He hadn’t been in here that often, but there was always at least a small group of people inside. Mostly sitting at the desks or the map table. Now, there was no one. Except for Henrik. He was sitting on a chair by a small fire, enclosed by a ring of stones. The fire was placed underneath one of the skull’s eye sockets, so it wasn’t exactly in the center of the room, but it was close enough. When Jackie and Chase walked in, Henrik looked up and gestured them over. There were two more chairs by the fire.

Chase slowly sat down, trying not to appear anxious. Jackie didn’t sit, and instead merely bounced on his feet, running his fingers along the edge of his chain mail shirt. For a moment Chase was distracted by the fact that Jackie almost always wore that mail armor—they had some in storage and he’d tried a shirt on, just out of curiosity, and it was surprisingly heavy. But then he got over being impressed and returned to being nervous. “So…what did you want to talk about? Did I do something?”

“No no no, it is not that,” Henrik hurried to say. “It is just—we have decided to tell you about the subject everyone was avoiding. Do you remember that?”

“Oh. Oh!” Chase’s eyes widened a bit. “I wasn’t expecting you to ACTUALLY tell me.”

“Well, of course we would.” Henrik sounded a bit surprised. “It would not be fair otherwise.”

Jackie let out a breath. “Yea.” Now that Chase wasn’t worrying about what the conversation would be, he could tell that Jackie was also nervous. Or…that wasn’t exactly the right word. Agitated, maybe.

“So, you have noticed that people are talking around something,” Henrik continued. “And you have picked up that this is a person, yes?” He waited for Chase to nod. “Yes. Well, that person…was a friend of ours.” He indicated Jackie and himself. “His name was Marvin.”

“Marvin,” Chase repeated. That wasn’t a name heard often in the mountains. It sounded coastal.

Henrik nodded. “He was the other founder. It was the three of us.”

“The other…what?” Chase asked, confused.

“The…other founder?” Henrik repeated, equally confused.

“Founder of what?”

“Of the Masked Phantoms, Chase.”

“…wait.” Things started to click into place. Why Jackie and Henrik wore masks with more colorful designs. Why they always seemed so busy. Why Henrik had been able to get Lukas to back off with such authority. Chase shot to his feet. “You two are in charge of EVERYTHING?!”

“Elders, did you not know that?!” Jackie said, absolutely shocked.

“No! I didn’t! Nobody told me!” Chase shook his head in disbelief. “I thought some things were strange, but I never realized—oh elders, no wonder Lukas is so suspicious of me. I walked right up into your main camp and immediately got friendly with the leaders of the whole secret resistance.” He might have reacted the same, honestly.

Jackie threw his hands up in the air, walking away for a few paces before coming back. “Elders and Sisters, Chase.”

“What?! I’m new to this!” Chase protested. “I’ve never joined a group like this before, not a guild or a hunting band or anything. I don’t know how leadership works! And you’re all flatlanders, for all I know, this was just a regional difference.”

“So who did you think was in charge?” Henrik asked.

“I don’t know. Some far-off figure who led from the shadows. You two are just…here. Interacting with everyone regularly. Jackie went on a mission with me, what if something happened?”

“We’re not kings, Chase,” Jackie said. “We like people to know we’re working with them. And trust me, nothing would have happened to me in Skytown. It would’ve been close if you hadn’t shown up, though. We might have lost Elin. And even if something did happen to me, Schneep stayed here, so we wouldn’t have lost leadership.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize it,” Chase muttered. “So this Marvin was also a leader? What…happened to him?”

Henrik started to say something, but Jackie interrupted. “He turned into an ass.”

“Jackie, it has been a year,” Henrik sighed.

“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t a bastard about it,” Jackie muttered. “Prick.”

Henrik rubbed his temples as if a headache was starting to come on. “I am still upset, too, but you are holding this grudge for too long.”

“What happened?” Chase repeated.

Henrik and Jackie glanced at each other, and Chase got the distinct feeling they were having a silent conversation. “Actually…do you mind if we tell you the story from the beginning?” Henrik asked after a long period of silence.

“Um…is this something that would make me seem even more suspicious for getting you two to open up to me?” Chase asked.

Jackie laughed. “Only in Lukas’s eyes. A few people around know this story, but I will admit, not most of them. Nemet, Tripp, Ana. The ones who’ve been around for a while. But it’s no secret. I hear there are some exaggerated versions of the story traveling around other camps.”

Chase grinned a bit. “But…why tell me? What if I’m actually a spy, or what if I switch sides—”

“I do not believe you would do that, Chase,” Henrik said quietly. “I met you once before. You are a kind, open man, and you care for your family and others. You would not side with the King.”

Chase’s chest swelled with emotion—the sadness and worry he was used to feeling when his family was mentioned, but combined with a warm feeling, knowing that others had faith in him. He nodded, and said nothing, blinking back sudden wetness in his eyes.

“So.” Henrik took a deep breath. “Let us start from the beginning.” He paused once more, then started to talk. “To understand why the subject matter is still bothering us—or, well, bothering Jackie—so much, I think the beginning is essential. Everything started fifteen years ago. I arrived in Glasúil off a ship, and headed down the coast and a bit inland. My parents had paid for me to study under a doctor named Slaine, who lived in the town of Fíornear.”

“Wait.” Chase didn’t want to interrupt so soon, but he had to hear that again. “Fíornear? As in…Fíornear Field?”

“Ah, yes. See, you would know that place.” Henrik smiled a bit, amused. “I have no doubt you grew up hearing stories of the warriors trained on the Field. But I did not. All I knew about it was the town name, and that it was a big, important area of the kingdom. Luckily, it was very easy to get directions to the town. I was glad that I had already studied your language before coming here. But it was…difficult, still. At that point, I could understand everything when it was in writing, but many people talked too fast for me to keep up.

“Because of this, when I actually arrived in the town of Fíornear, I was very confused. I was expecting something fancier, if I must say. The whole town was—and still is—very, ah…utilitarian. The only place that fit my expectations was the small castle where the area’s noble family lived, and even that was fortified with thick walls. I could tell that this was a place where warriors lived and worked, and I was very confused. And sort of afraid, if I must say so, thinking I had accidentally wandered onto a restricted area in a foreign land.

“So I thought I would get more directions. If this was Fíornear, I would ask where Slaine lived. If it was not, I would ask how to get there. I entered the first building I saw on the edge of town. It was a tavern with a name I could not understand, but that I would later learn was the Flint and Dagger Tavern. I would also later learn that this was known as a place where troublemakers gathered. Warriors who were learning the trade at the Field, but who were too ill-tempered to mingle with the others. They had taken this tavern as their own.

“Now imagine a fourteen-year-old boy walking into this tavern. A bookish-looking boy who is carrying all his possessions in a bag with him, including all his money, and who is rather skinny and likely to blow over in a strong wind.”

“I think your past self would be insulted to hear that, Schneep,” Jackie laughed.

Henrik grinned. “No, no, trust me, I was very aware of this fact. Even more so as everyone else in the tavern was strong enough to pick me up with one hand. They were all giving me looks, and I immediately felt I was not welcome. But I thought I could hurry through. So I walk up to the tavern keeper, and before I could even say anything, he says something along the lines of ‘Get out of here, kid.’ The exact details escape me.

“Of course, as I said, I do not understand the spoken language as well, so I think I misheard him. And I say, very clumsily, ‘Excuse me, is this Fíornear?’ And I mispronounced it, too, calling it ‘fee-OHR-neer’ instead of ‘FEE-or-narr.’ And from there, a few of the patrons in the tavern started grumbling at each other, sitting at a table in the middle of the room so they are not even hidden.

“The tavern keeper says, ‘Why? Are you looking for it? Hoping to become a warrior?’ and he gives me a very mocking smile at that last part. And I say, ‘No, I am looking for a doctor named Slaine.’

“And before I can say anything else, the group who are sitting and grumbling stand up and walk over to me. All of them, older than me, taller, and quite a bit stronger. One of them said something that was like, ‘So you’re a fancy foreign boy, then?’ And I am very confused. I know he is insulting me, but I am not sure how, so I just try to ask if this is the right town once more. They all laugh, and say things that are too fast for me to understand, but I know they are still insulting me. The one who spoke before leans down, very close to me, and grabs the front of my shirt. ‘You’d better get out of this place before we throw you out,’ he says. ‘You don’t belong here.’

“At that moment, I understand that this is a mistake, and I apologize, trying to leave. But this taller, older boy is not letting go of my shirt, even though he wants me to get out. I try apologizing again, and I look around for help, but everybody is looking away. Until, all of a sudden, there is a shout of ‘Hey!’ and next thing I know, the older boy is hit in the head with a shoe. I turn in the direction it came from, and there is a tiny girl standing on top of one of the tables, holding the other shoe in the pair.”

“I was not tiny!” Jackie protested.

Henrik laughed. “You were a small twelve-year-old child, all your height came from the table.”

“Okay, alright, but I hadn’t hit my growth spurt yet! And I was full of righteous anger so that makes up for it!”

“Wait, Jackie, you were the girl?” Chase clarified.

“I was,” Jackie said, turning to look at Chase. “I didn’t realize it at the time this story takes place, but I was born in a different name.”

“Oh!” Chase nodded. “You’re a man?”

“Mostly, yea.”

“I see. You look good.”

“Thank you,” Jackie grinned. “But I thought you were married.”

“Hey, don’t take it that way, I mean it as a friend.” Chase chuckled a bit. “What were you doing in this tavern?”

“Oh, I was training on the Field,” Jackie said proudly.

“Really?! At twelve?!” Chase didn’t hide his surprise. Though Fíornear Field technically trained anyone over the age of twelve to be a royal warrior, there usually weren’t students that young. “How did you convince your parents?”

“Well…I didn’t,” Jackie admitted. He finally sat down in the third chair. “See, I grew up on a farm, smack dab in the middle of the kingdom. It was boring. I had siblings, two older and three younger, and I could play with them, but I just wasn’t interested in farmwork. Mam and Dad said that I could start warrior training when I turned fifteen, but I didn’t want to wait! I’d be practically an adult by then, and it seemed so far. So I…ran away.”

“Oh, elders,” Chase gasped.

“Once I was actually receiving training, I asked the armsmaster to write a letter back to them,” Jackie said. “Because I couldn’t write yet. I didn’t want them to worry, but I wanted to be sure I had a place at the Field before that happened, so it’d be harder for them to drag me home.”

“Elders, I can’t imagine being that old and going out on my own,” Chase shook his head in disbelief.

Jackie grinned. “Well, I was a tiny fireball as a kid, fierce and stubborn. I wanted to fight villains and protect people. And as you can probably tell, one of the first times I did that was by throwing a shoe at Samuel when he was harassing Henrik.” He briefly shook his head in disgust. “That boy wasn’t worthy of that name, he was a bully in every way.”

“Let me guess…things rolled downhill quickly after the bully got hit with the shoe,” Chase said.

“Well…eventually. He certainly let go of Schneep right away. I remember shouting at him to ‘Leave him alone!’ and of course, he immediately got angry. He picked up the shoe again—which was mine, by the way, off my feet—and said, ‘I won’t be taking orders from a pipsqueak mouse like you!’ and threw it back at me. I managed to catch it, which was pretty impressive if I say so, and shouted back, ‘If I’m a mouse, you’re a brute, picking on someone half your size! Fight like a warrior!’”

“And then what happened?” Henrik prompted.

Jackie sighed. “He and all his lads charged at me.”

“Ancient elders,” Chase groaned.

“It could have gone worse!” Jackie insisted. “Apparently picking on someone so young was too much for some of the other patrons, and they all jumped in to stop them. Oh, and I leapt right off the table before any of them could get there! I…didn’t exactly land on my feet, but it didn’t hurt that much, compared to being rammed by about eight or nine sixteen-year-old warriors-in-training. You know, Samuel and half his lads got denied training before the winter. Ha! Served them right.

“Anyway, then I stood up and ran over to Schneep while the other patrons were trying to hold back those lads. I asked him if he was alright, and he said he was fine. Then I said, ‘Good, now let’s get out of here!’

“Before we could ‘get out of there,’ though, Samuel shouted, ‘Get those brats!’ and about three of his lads went to block the front entrance. So I grabbed Schneep’s hand and ran the other way, into the back halls of the tavern that connects the kitchen, and the storage, and the lavatory, and whatever else was back there, I forget. By that point, a brawl was starting, so we had a head start. I knew there’d be a back entrance to the building, but I wasn’t sure where. It was my first time going there, you know, and I’d only gone out of curiosity, not any desire to visit regularly.

“So it wasn’t long before we were lost. We took a few wrong turns, and Henrik asked me, ‘Do you know where we are going?’ and I lied and said, ‘Of course!’ But he didn’t believe me. And I could hear footsteps and shouting following us, and I knew either Samuel or one of his lads would find us soon.

“But before that can happen, I hear someone say, very quietly, ‘Excuse me?’ I jump a bit, spin around, and almost punch this tall kid who’d suddenly come out of one of the rooms. Luckily, Schneep stopped me. And the tall kid says, ‘You’re the people that got attacked back there?’ And I don’t answer right away, because I’m a bit suspicious. But this boy isn’t one of Samuel’s lads. He wasn’t built enough, if you know what I mean. Instead, he was this really tall, sort of willowy boy around Schneep’s age, wearing this fancy ring that looked like real silver with a real emerald in it. So I say ‘yea, that’s us.’ And he says, ‘Alright. I’ll help you get out.’

“This boy turns to the nearest wall and stares at it for a while, like he’s trying to read invisible words. Then he pokes his ring, and all of a sudden, the emerald in it starts glowing. I remember staring in shock as he pressed the emerald to the wall near the floor, then raised it up, around, and down. As he did, the glowing light rubbed off on the wall like chalk on a board, drawing this doorway that was round at the top. Once the doorway was done, he pressed on the wall in the middle, and it just disappeared. Instead, there was suddenly the outside, even though we should have still been in the middle of the building.

“‘You have to go through first,’ this kid says. I’m a bit suspicious, but then Schneep nods and walks right through this doorway. And now I feel responsible for him, so I follow him, and next thing I know, I’m outside the tavern, on its side. The tall kid walks through the doorway, and then it disappears. And we all just stare at each other for a while. It’s a bit awkward, but I felt like we were all connected somehow, you know? So I say, ‘I’m Jackie. Daughter of Fiona,’ because, again, I hadn’t realized my name was wrong yet. Schneep introduces himself as ‘Henrik von Schneeplestein,’ and this new kid just says, ‘I’m Marvin.’”

Chase physically started. “Marvin was a wizard?!”

“And a very talented one, too,” Henrik added. “The spell he used there was a Doorway Through Walls, and I understand it’s not usually taught to fourteen-year-olds.”

“But…” Chase shook his head a bit. “You said that wizards usually side with the King. A-and Tripp told me that was because the royal family provides their magic focuses, so how—?”

“Most focuses are temporary,” Jackie said. “They get worn out from channeling magic for so long. You might get one or two years out of them before they need to be fixed up or replaced. But there are ones that can last decades. They just…cost a hefty fee.”

“Marvin stole his,” Henrik added.

Jackie laughed a bit. “Yea. He did.” But his smile was more sad than anything. And short-lived too, as he realized he was smiling and quickly dropped it into a frown.

“So that’s how you three met,” Chase said, putting together the pieces. “So…you stayed in contact?”

“It was easy to do so,” Henrik said. “Jackie was training at the Field, I was studying with Slaine, and Marvin lived in town. We would meet up as often as possible. There were difficulties, of course, mine and Jackie’s schedules were full, and Marvin’s parents did not approve of him leaving home, so he had to sneak out.”

“We had a lot of little adventures,” Jackie said, leaning back and linking his hands behind his head. “Schneep was the brain, I was the brawn, and Marvin was the—well, he said he was the beauty, but really, he was the power, with his magic. And, uh, money, actually. You don’t get a lot of coin as a warrior-in-training or a doctor’s apprentice.”

“But I think we should skip over those,” Henrik said. “I think we may have taken too long explaining our first meeting.”

“Alright, skip to the part where you decide to form a group to rebel against the King,” Chase suggested. “When did that start? The moment he was crowned?”

“No, not at all,” Henrik said. “In fact, I was quite happy for him. Though a little shocked, to be honest. I had just finished my studies, and I felt barely ready to step out into my own. Yet he was being crowned King of an entire kingdom, and he was a year younger than me!”

“Couldn’t be helped,” Jackie sighed. “Not with the last King and Queen gone, be at peace. At least he got a year to prepare?”

“Twenty is hardly better than nineteen,” Henrik huffed. “But either way, we could not have known what was to happen.”

“What started it all?” Chase asked.

Jackie and Henrik glanced at each other. “It was about three years later, or so,” Jackie said. “At that point, I was one of the royal warriors, so I was able to notice some things. Our commands were…questionable. My captain told all of us that we ‘weren’t to hold back’ against troublemakers. There was talk of shutting down dissidence, and testing the people’s loyalty. Now, keep in mind, there hadn’t even been a whisper of rebellion before this, but this sort of talk seemed to appear overnight. And a lot of my fellows, people I had considered friends, were eating this up.”

“And then the King cut the funding for medicine and doctors,” Henrik added. “You know how most of us doctors receive supplies and salaries from the royal funds, yes?”

“Except for the travelling doctors,” Chase agreed. “They’re a separate thing. You were a town doctor once?”

“Yes, so I knew we were receiving less,” Henrik grumbled. “And now, years later, it is even less. The royal fund is not paying for supplies anymore, meaning doctors have to ask for donations so they can afford what they need.”

“And Marvin was hearing rumors about the noble houses,” Jackie said. “How they were turning on other families that weren’t loyal enough to the crown.”

“All of this was so different from what the King had been doing when first crowned.” Henrik shook his head. “And the three of us talked, and we realized that he must have been hiding his true intentions. Waiting until his position was secure, and then enforcing his rule, making sure every last person in this kingdom followed him.”

“And we had to do something about it!” Jackie shouted, standing up. “Something more! Something drastic!”

“Something that we could not do as ourselves,” Henrik said. “So, we decided to use masks, to hide who we were.”

“Little things first. But you would not believe how quickly things got out of hand.” Jackie whistled. “Something about the masks inspired something, I guess. People started following us after we went out to stop injustice, asking to join. And well, more people meant we could do more to help, so we expanded. Now here we are, five years later.”

Chase didn’t say anything for a moment. It just all seemed…so much. The Masked Phantoms was created by just three people. Two of which he was starting to consider friends. But that begged the question…why were only two of them left? “What happened to Marvin?”

Jackie took a deep breath, as if holding back a rant of words. “I know I just said our plan was to do something drastic. I just said that. But…there are…LIMITS.” The last word came out as a growl.

“Jackie, please. Sit down,” Henrik said softly. Jackie stayed standing, so he sighed, and continued. “Our goal has always been to protect people. And so, we encourage fighting to be a last resort.”

“I’ve picked up on that, yes,” Chase said. “Holly always says you should never strike first.”

“Marvin thought we weren’t doing enough. He started to say that we should strike first. And strike…fatally.”

“How could he?!” Jackie shouted. “How could he?! The King’s warriors are just people, same as us! They have families to support, friends that would miss them! They’re following orders, and shouldn’t be blamed! Even the noble houses are under the crown! Doing what they need to! Nobody should die unless there’s no avoiding it!”

“Jackie, calm down!” Henrik snapped.

Jackie fell silent. He looked over at Chase. “One day, the three of us were talking about our plans. The long-term ones, our goals. And Marvin—he—just—so casually—like it was nothing, he said we should kill the King.”

“What?!” Chase stood up as well. “You can’t do that! The royal lineage hasn’t been broken for centuries! It goes all the way back to Samuel the Green-Eyed, it’s entwined within the land itself. You can’t end it!”

“Yes! See! This is it!” Jackie shouted. “People care about the line! They care about the legend of it! They care about our history!”

“I can see where Marvin was coming from, though,” Henrik said. “The King has abused his power for years, and people are suffering. Killing him might end it, and it would mean he would never return to try and regain his rule. But we cannot kill him right away. Not unless the people agree with that decision. And if we assassinate him now, people will DEFINITEY not agree. Half the population will immediately revolt against whatever new rule we try to establish. We must strip the King of his powers, THEN plan what to do.”

Chase forced himself to take a step back from the immediate indignant anger he’d felt upon hearing someone was planning to end the Glasúil line. Really, did it matter that much? Well…yes, actually. The royal family had ruled peacefully for centuries, and people loved them. Not just because of who they were, but because of what Jackie said, the history and legend. But if this King ordered villages burned down for no reason? Yes, he could see where Marvin was coming from, too.

But Henrik was right. People would be raging at the idea. His own reaction was proof of that. Killing the King now would just lead to chaos. “So you kicked Marvin out, then?”

Jackie laughed. “Oh noooo, we didn’t do that! The bastard said he was too good for us, and stormed out! What an ass!”

“To be fair, we did have…quite a large fight, leading up to that,” Henrik pointed out. “Personal insults were said.”

“Mostly between me and him,” Jackie admitted. “Schneep tried to mediate.”

Henrik laughed bitterly. “For the first minute, yes. I got caught up in it, too, do not pretend I didn’t. I would apologize, if I could.”

“I wouldn’t,” Jackie muttered. “Not unless he does first.”

“Not even for punching him?”

“Nope.”

Chase looked back and forth between the two of them. He wasn’t about to press, but he could tell that this fight had been BAD. “So…he left.”

“A year ago, yes,” Henrik confirmed. “We hear about his…activities, occasionally. A wizard in a mask, acting on his own. Mostly destroying noble property and warrior forts.”

“With no regard for casualties,” Jackie added angrily. He grunted in frustration, then looked back at Chase. His voice softened. “…sorry to dump all this on you. It’s just been so long since we’ve talked about it, I guess we needed to.”

“No, it’s fine,” Chase assured him. “I understand, you can’t keep your feelings buried forever.”

“Well…alright then.” Jackie let out a long breath, then leaned in and gave Chase a quick one-armed hug. “Thanks for listening.”

Henrik stood up, gave Chase a similar quick hug, then stepped back. “We have been talking for a while. We told everyone not to disturb us, but…”

“More busy leader duties?” Chase asked humorously.

Henrik gave him a wry smile. “More busy leader duties.”

“Don’t worry,” Chase said. “I understand. And really, I’m just glad that you took the time to tell me all this. You didn’t have to.”

“We wanted to,” Henrik said. “And now, when others try to avoid the subject, you can say that you already know about Marvin, so it is not a problem.”

“Do you…think you’ll ever cross paths again?”

“I hope we do,” Jackie said. “So I can punch him again.” He hit his hand in demonstration. “But…on a more serious note, I think it’s inevitable. Our goals are the same, even if our methods are different. Eventually, we’re going to have to meet him again.” He paused. “And the more time goes on, the closer that moment becomes.”
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The Southern Moors of Glasúil were not built for permanent settlements. They were wetlands, with watery soil that wasn’t fit to farm on, without gems or metals to mine, and with mud that could easily ruin books, art, and clothes. But still, people found a way to live there, using the resources native to the moors to trade for what they needed. Most of the time, people lived on boats that floated down the many rivers, migrating seasonally as certain areas got difficult to work with. But a few locations had become home to permanent towns, towns that floated in the middle of still water or had their buildings tower on stilts.

This was a town that fit into the latter category. Houses, shops, everything was on stilts that were at least twice as tall as the average man, built like that to avoid the rising waters that would come every spring.

But for now, in the winter, the waters were just thin streams that wound around the tall buildings, some of them covered in a thin layer of ice. But the biggest stream was unfrozen. And this night, under the light of the stars and the waning moon, a single rowboat was floating down this stream. A boy, probably around ten to thirteen years old, was paddling it to his destination. He kept glancing up at the stilted buildings, waiting to see someone on the wooden bridges that connected them. But it was late, and it was winter, and although the Southern Moors weren’t all frozen yet, it was still cold. So the boy paddled on.

Then, he glanced up at the wooden bridges again. And there he saw…a cat. Sitting near one of the wooden ladders leading down to the ground, its eyes reflecting the starlight as it stared at him. The boy stopped paddling, tied up the boat, and climbed out, grabbing the wooden ladder. Once on the solid wooden walkway around the building, the cat darted around him and across the bridge.

He followed the cat to the next building, a house, where it stopped and sat outside the door. Swallowing nervously, he pulled open the door.

The inside was filled with a wide array of candles, all of various colors, but mostly orange and black. They sat on every possible surface, even the floor near the walls, but only a few were lit. The layout was that of a normal one-room house, with a bed in one corner, a rocking chair in another, and a table with two chairs in the middle. And there was a man sitting in one of the chairs.

The cat darted past the boy and leapt onto the table. Its fur was mostly white, but its ears were dark gray, and its tail was striped gray and black. Its legs were similarly striped, though with brown and white, and the fur on its face had a pattern of brown stripes. It stared at the man with big blue eyes, and the man started petting it.

The man himself was…unusual. Most of his clothes were hidden by a thick black cloak, leaving just his gloved hands and his head visible. Though, that wouldn’t do much. His features were hidden by a white mask in the shape of a cat’s face. Colorful markings decorated the surface, red whiskers on the cheeks and green spirals in the ears, with the four card symbols in black in the center of the forehead. Brown chin-length hair framed the mask in waves.

“Um…” The boy hovered in the doorway.

“Close the door,” the man said, and the boy did so. “What did you find?”

The boy walked closer to the table, though he didn’t sit in the chair. “Um…well…my cousin, Ryenn, she works at Portmota Castle. Does their laundry and cleaning. And she…she says that the King has chosen them for his Longest Night celebration. H-he’s arriving soon, maybe within the week.”

“I see.” The cat hopped into the man’s lap and curled up, where he continued to pet it. “How does your cousin know this?”

“Well, they were doing preparations, cleaning things more than usual. And she asked why, and the others said that the lady was getting ready for the King’s visit. Apparently she got a letter in secret, saying that the celebration at Fíornear was a ruse and it was actually going to happen at her holding.”

“I see,” the man repeated, nodding.

The boy hesitated. “Um…can I…? The, uh…”

“Yes, of course.” The man reached into his cloak and pulled out a small leather pouch. He set it down on top of the table. It made a clinking sound as the coins inside rattled against each other.

The boy stared at it, then slowly reached down, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, he snatched the pouch up, checked the inside, and saw it was filled with golden coins. His eyes widened. He looked at the man and quickly nodded. “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a problem. I should be thanking YOU for what you told me.”

“Right.” The boy took a few steps back, suddenly uneasy. “Uh…” Then, without another word, he turned and scrambled out of the house. The man could hear him running all the way back to his boat.

“He shouldn’t be so scared,” the man said to himself. The cat in his lap purred and sat up, stretching. He winced. “Draco, your claws.” Of course, the cat didn’t say anything. In fact, it started kneading his legs. “Ah!” The man gasped, then sighed. “Silly boy.” He picked up the cat and set it on the floor, where it whined at him. “Sorry, but you can’t be up here. I need the space.”

The man then reached into his cloak and pulled out several things. A map, some parchment, a quill and bottle of ink, and finally, a necklace with an ornate pendant: a flat, palm-sized emerald in a thin silver frame, smooth on the front but with golden patterns inlaid on the back. The man ran a finger along the edge of the pendant, and it started to glow. He flicked the light off his fingers, and it scattered, flying to all the unlit candles and lighting them, providing more than enough light to see.

“Now, let’s get to work.” The man picked up the quill, dipped it, and wrote down a name: Portmota, the noble family the King would be visiting for the solstice. He’d heard rumors that the celebration wasn’t actually going to be at Fíornear, but this confirmed it. Now, he just had to come up with a plan. Something more subtle than his usual heads-on approach. This was too important to risk.

He’d make sure the King didn’t live to see the spring.



Part Sixteen of the Switch AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of an ongoing fic series I started in April 2019. In the chaos of the kids going missing, Distorter decides to cause even more trouble for everyone by messing with Schneep.]
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It seemed absurd that, with everything going the way it was, Schneep still had to go to work. But there was nothing he could do about it, so he got up in the morning, worked seven hours at the coffee shop Latte Lake, then came home around one o’clock.

“It’s me, I’m home,” he called, opening the front door of the apartment and strolling in.

Jackie was lounging on the sofa, scrolling mindlessly through something on his phone. He looked up. “Hey, Volt,” he said. “How were things?”

Schneep huffed. “Same as ever. How are things here?”

“Ehhhh…” Jackie looked back down at the phone screen. He was a bit…listless lately, but that was to be understood, what with things being how they were. “Are you going out again tonight?”

“Yes, of course,” Schneep says. He’d been going out every night for the past few days, ever since the kids disappeared. Gone out in costume, searching. Nothing, so far. Though he wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Distorter was difficult to find. In fact, they didn’t have any clue where he stayed or hid at all. So maybe the search was impossible, but damn if he was going to just let it happen.

“Hmm…” Jackie put his phone down and buried his face in one of the throw pillows.

“Do you need anything?” Schneep asked tentatively.

“No, I’m just tired.” Jackie’s voice was muffled. “Haven’t been sleeping well. Talking with Rama through FaceTime.”

“Ah. I see.” Schneep wondered if he would be able to hear that, if he was ever home before Jackie fell asleep. After all, his ‘bedroom’ only had a single wall separating it from the rest of the studio apartment. Any noise Jackie made from where he was sleeping on the couch was pretty audible. “Well anyways.” He draped his jacket across the back of the nearest chair and headed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Just as he stepped inside, the alarm on his phone went off. “Ja, ja,” he muttered, switching it off. He knew what that meant. The bathroom was a bit smaller than the average one, but it was pretty good-sized for an apartment. He leaned over the counter and opened the medicine cabinet behind the mirror, taking out a small bottle. Idly, he opened it, only to freeze. Since when was it empty? He could have sworn he was good for the next two weeks.

He took his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number from his contacts. Bouncing in place, he listened to it ring on the other side until it was picked up. “Hello, Dr. Akela speaking.”

“Hello Malcolm?” Schneep said. “It is Henrik. I was just calling to check on if you could, ahhh, send me my next prescription now?”

“Now? Is something wrong?” Malcolm sounded puzzled.

“I just went to take it for today and my medication bottle is empty,” Schneep explained.

“What? Already? Hang on a second, I need to check something.” There was the sound of fabric rustling and keyboard tapping on the other line. Schneep waited patiently. After a while, Malcolm hummed. “Yeah, that should have lasted you a month. It’s only been two weeks.”

“That’s what I was thinking!” Schneep sighed in relief. He’d been worried for a moment there that he’d lost track of time. “I do not know why it’s empty, I’ve only taken one per day.”

“You’re sure it’s only one?” Malcolm asked. “And you haven’t lost any?”

“No, no I am sure.”

“That’s, uh…this is going to sound unprofessional, but if that’s really the case, then that’s weird,” Malcolm said. “I haven’t gotten in your next prescription yet, that was gonna happen on Friday.”

“A week from now?!” Schneep half-shouted.

“Hey, I know it’s frustrating, but there’s nothing I can do about it.” Malcolm paused. “Maybe ask your new roommate if he knows anything about what happened to it.”

Schneep bit back a laugh. Yeah, he was going to ask Jackie about this. Jackie didn’t even know he took medication, let alone what it was for. Still, he said, “Yes, sure.”

“Great. Can you swing by the office on Friday or should I mail it directly to you?”

“I can stop by. Goodbye, Malcolm.”

“See you on Friday.”

Schneep hung up the call, thinking. He really could’ve sworn he still had two weeks’ worth of medication left. What could’ve happened? He glanced around uneasily. Could someone have…done something? Who? Sure, Jackie had the means, but not the motive. He had a niggling feeling that a certain black-eyed smiling creature was behind it, but there was no proof…still, if anyone would want to tamper with this, it was him.

He tried to push the what-ifs away for now and concentrate on the facts. Friday was six days away. Symptoms would certainly be showing up by then, or at least growing into larger problems than just inconveniences. But they wouldn’t be unmanageable. Probably not. He could survive six days.

So he took a deep breath, and headed out of the bathroom.

“Hey have you talked to JJ recently?” Jackie asked.

“Huh?” Schneep startled. “Ah…not since we met up the day before last. Should I talk with him?”

“Maybe,” Jackie said. “I think he needs some cheering up. I would in that situation, you know?”

He nodded slowly. Yes of course. If he’d been injured in a trap by Distorter, unsure if he would ever be able to speak again, he would be feeling a little down, at the very least. Maybe he would text him. But at the same time, he thought that if he did, he’d just dump all his worries about the missing medication on him. After all, JJ and Marvin were the only people he’d told about his condition. And neither of them needed any more pressure right now. So maybe tomorrow, then, when things had settled down just a bit.
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Schneep had always preferred night to day. Which was partly why he usually went out on patrol after dark. It was also partly because he had work during the day, of course. Had to make time whenever he could.

He sat on the edge of a fire escape, staring up at the sky. Only a few stars could be seen—light pollution, of course—but the moon was bright and close. It was quite peaceful. He sighed, wishing he’d thought to bring a cup of coffee with him. But even if he had, he would have to make sure he was out of sight so he could take his mask off and drink it, and it might be more trouble than it was worth. Not for the first time, he regretted that he designed the suit with the mask covering his mouth. But it was too late now. Well, whatever. It was fine, and kept his face less recognizable.

Stretching, he stood up and jumped down to the street below, landing solidly as his specially-designed boots absorbed most of the impact. Recovering quickly, he headed out, continuing the same search he had the last few days, looking for any sign of the kids, Michelle and William. Of course the patrol wasn’t the only part of the search. He was also scouring the local news and Internet, keeping a devoted track of anything that could’ve been a sign of Distorter or the kids. But going out and actively looking around for anything odd was a key part of this. And he still had to keep a hold on any crime, of course. Though luckily, it had been quiet lately.

There wasn’t anyone out on the streets right now. His eyes darted about, looking for anything odd.

“/Hellooooo!/”

Schneep gasped, and whirled around. No, it couldn’t be that easy. But it was. Distorter was standing in front of him, right in the middle of the sidewalk. His ever-present grin seemed more genuinely cheerful than usual, and that made him uneasy. He immediately raised his hands, fists clenched.

Distorter laughed. “/No, calm down, I’m not here for a fight today./”

“I find that hard to believe,” Schneep growled. The last time he’d run into Distorter out on his own, the creature had stabbed him with some poison blade, almost killing him, and took Jackie in the resulting chaos. And now he’d taken others…“Where are the kids, you motherfucker?!”

“/Not here to talk about that, either, but if it’ll help you feel better, they’re fine,/” Distorter said. “/They’re safe! /What kind of monster do you think I am, to hurt kids?/”

Schneep didn’t respond to that. He wasn’t about to trust anything he said. Instead, his eyes scanned Distorter up and down, trying to anticipate an attack.

“/On edge, huh? /Wonder why that is./” Distorter held up his hand, fingers clenched into a fist. “/Could it be because of…this?/” He opened his hands, and a few small white things fell, dropping onto the ground.

“What do you—” His eyes widened. No, he’d recognize that anywhere. “I knew it!” He lunged forward.

“/Nope!/” Distorter laughed, and before Schneep even got close, he threw a fistful of the pills—because that’s what they were, of course—into the nearest storm drain. Schneep stumbled to a stop, gaping. He looked down, seeing a few left on the sidewalk below. Before he could even think about if it was embarrassing to do so, he fell to the ground and scrambled about to try and pick up the pills left. Only for them to fade away, mere illusions. Distorter laughed harder. “/Wonder what others would say to see that. /It’s hilarious. /Aren’t you supposed to be a self-proclaimed hero? /Crawling on the ground?/”

Schneep shot up and swung a fist. It connected with Distorter’s chin with a crack! and a discharge of electricity, making him stagger backwards. He honestly hadn’t expected it to make contact, so he stumbled as well. “Son of a bitch,” he growled. “Why?! What did you do with them?!”

“/Your pills? /Uh, I just threw it in the sewer, thought that was obvious./” Distorter rolled his shoulders in what could have been a shrug, but it was a bit too…flexible. “/And as for why? /Well, you’re alive, unfortunately. /So I’ve decided to stop trying for the moment. /And instead of killing you, what if I just make you as miserable as possible?/” His grinned widened. “/How long would it take for you to give up?/”

For a moment, Schneep was speechless. Then, he laughed. “You think that anything you could do would wear me down? You are wrong! So fucking wrong! I have lived through worse than what you can do to me!”

“/Hmmm are you sure?/” Distorter tapped his fingernails on his arm. “/Why are you so concerned about the others knowing, then?/”

Schneep stiffened. “I…I am not going into details with you.”

“/It’s because you’re scared./” Distorter took a step forward. The air seemed to shiver around him, making it hard to focus on him. “/Scared of what they’ll think of you. /You know how most people react hearing about this condition of yours, hmm? /You’ve experienced it enough times./ The last thing you want is for your friends to think of you that way, think of you as out of control or even dangerous./” He laughed. “I/t’ll be harder for you to keep it from them now, won’t it? /Now that dear Jackie is staying with you. /I wonder—/”

“Shut the fuck up!” He tried to swing another punch, but the world shimmered and shifted, and Distorter was now standing to his left, watching him stumble. He regained his balance, then whirled on him. “They would not care. They are different.”

“/Then why haven’t you said anything yet?”/ Distorter tilted his head. “/It’s been, what, five years since you met them? /Plenty of opportunities./”

And despite his desire to shout at Distorter, to profess his trust in his friends, Schneep still hesitated.

“/Exactly./” Distorter giggled a bit, and then disappeared. Schneep balked for a second, but of course it was another illusion. Distorter’s voice still echoed from the same spot. “/Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say. /Good luck for the next…six days, was it? /I’ll be watching./”

For a long moment, Schneep kept standing there. He knew that he should probably be trying to follow Distorter, finding out where he lived—or…lurked, or whatever—and where he’d taken the kids. But he was just frozen.

Eventually, he pushed it out of his mind. Distorter was messing with him, as he was messing with all of them. He wouldn’t let him get to him. It was just six days. It would be fine. And with that, he continued on.
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He went to work again the next morning, because he, unfortunately, needed money. And just like the previous day, he entered the apartment, announcing “It’s me, I’m home.”

Jackie was on the phone. He waved at Schneep as he entered, then returned to whatever conversation he was having. “No, I can’t think of anyone. You already asked Rama, right?” He paused. “Well…yes, it’s a possibility. But the, um…other thing is also a possibility.”

Schneep paused, listening curiously for a moment. Then the alarm on his phone went off. He swore softly, hurrying to turn it off. For some reason, even though he’d scheduled it for the same time every day after work, he hadn’t been expecting it. Giving Jackie an apologetic look, he headed over to the kitchen area and grabbed a bag of pretzels.

“Alright, let me know, of course,” Jackie said. “Yeah. Yeah. Okay, goodbye.” He hung up, and sighed.

“What was that?” Schneep asked, curious.

“It was one of those detectives, Kikelomo,” Jackie explained. “I told you those two were assigned to Michelle and William’s case, right?”

“Yes.”

“She was wondering if there was anyone who, uh…didn’t like me, I guess? She explained it like having any enemies, but I dunno, that’s a strong word.” He paused. “You know…because there’s no sign of who we know actually took them, so the police are looking for other possible leads.”

“Hmm.” Schneep nodded silently, opening up the bag of pretzels. “I…unfortunately, I have not found anything.”

“I don’t expect you to,” Jackie said softly. “I think…I think that we must start looking in that…place. But to be honest, I…don’t even know where that is.”

Schneep paused. “The…place where he kept you?”

Jackie nodded. “I don’t remember getting there. And when I finally got out, I was…wasn’t really paying attention to where I was. So I have no idea where…you know.”

“What about…that Stacy lady?” Schneep asked. “She found you, so wherever that was, it was probably nearby to that place.”

Jackie looked over at him, eyes wide. “I…hadn’t even thought of that. I-I guess I could ask her where that was. But how would I bring that up?”

“Just ask, it will be fine,” Schneep said reassuringly. “Or if you want, one of us could ask her.”

“No, I can do it. God, why haven’t any of us thought of that before?”

Schneep shrugged. Jackie looked down, and he recognized the way his eyes were starting to glaze over. Quickly, he changed the subject. “Do you want a pretzel?”

Jackie laughed. “Yeah, sure.”
.............................................................................................

Things started to go downhill on the second day after losing his medication. At work, he snapped at his coworker Jennifer to stop whispering to herself, it was very distracting. Jennifer had been startled, and denied any whispering. Hearing that, Schneep’s heart sunk, pulled down with dreadful anticipation. Already? He thought it would be another couple days…Though if the symptoms were manifesting now, it could possibly explain the listless feeling he’d had that morning, which had been dragging at him throughout his shift.

He tried not to show how shaken he was once coming home, and Jackie didn’t seem to notice. So he prepared to go out that night again, as normal.

Luckily, it was another uneventful night. Because he wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to concentrate on stopping any crime with the constant background noise that he couldn’t escape. He could barely make himself patrol, and found nothing in his search.

He was tired. Not physically, though he knew his sleep schedule had much to be desired. No, this was a mental sort of worn-down, and he just knew it would get worse throughout the next few days.
.............................................................................................

He had a day off, and naturally ended up sleeping in. But he woke up to the sound of people talking. What was it, a whole crowd? Or was he even really hearing it? He stood up, stretched, and peeked around the wall separating his sleeping area from the front room. “Oh. Hello, Anti.”

Anti and Jackie were sitting and talking, Jackie on the sofa and Anti curled up on a chair nearby. “Hey Volt,” Anti said, waving.

“Oh, was I not supposed to let him in?” Jackie asked, a note of anxiety in his voice. “He just showed up at the door—wait, we woke you up didn’t we? Sorry, super sorry.”

“Is fine, you didn’t wake me up,” Schneep assured him, even though they really did. “What are you doing here, Anti?”

“Thought I’d stop by,” Anti shrugged. He didn’t look too good, in all honesty, with dark bags under his eyes and wearing wrinkled clothes. “I dunno. Anyway, Sam is here, too, because they won’t leave me alone.” A green eyeball popped up into the air, bouncing a couple times.

“Ah!” Schneep jumped a bit, taking a few steps back.

“You okay?” Jackie asked.

“Yes, that just…startled me, that is all.” Schneep let out a breath. “Anyway. You two keep going, talking about…whatever you were talking about.” He headed over to the kitchen area, getting ready to start the coffeemaker.

Jackie hesitated. “Well…we were just talking about the kids,” he said carefully. “Nothing…serious, just…talking about them.”

“Oh.” Schneep blinked. “Yes, that…makes sense. I suppose that is what most parents do.”

“If you had kids, would you want to talk about them?” Jackie asked.

“I…probably, yes.” Schneep hadn’t really thought of it before. He liked kids, yes, but he wasn’t really looking for them yet. He didn’t even have a partner. Well, he’d leave them to it. He turned on the coffeemaker, letting the sound fill the room. And he leaned a bit closer. The noise was drowning out the wordless conversation going on in the background of his head. That was…worrying, that he was hearing that. He’d have to tell Dr. Akela about that.

“Volt!”

He gasped and straightened. “Ah—yes, yes? I am here?”

“God, you must be pretty tired,” Anti said. “We’ve been trying to talk to you for like five minutes. Your coffee’s done.”

Schneep looked over at the coffeemaker and realized it was no longer making noise. When had that happened? “Ah. Thank you.”

Anti narrowed his eyes. “You know I can leave or something if you want to go back to sleep.”

“No, it is fine, I insist.” Schneep grabbed a mug from the nearest cupboard, and was about to pour the coffee in when a sudden glowing green orb shoved itself into his face. “Aack! Sam!” He carefully batted them away. “What is wrong with you?” They stayed around his head, shoving against his cheek like a pet begging for attention. “Anti, control your…strange…eyeball…pet.”

“Hey, they’re not mine!” Anti protested. “And they’re a lot smarter than a pet! I think. I dunno, I never really had a proper pet.”

“Really? Not even as a kid?” Jackie asked.

“Not a REAL one,” Anti emphasized. “I tried to kidnap a couple of birds as pets, some squirrels, a badger once—that was a bad idea.”

“Jesus, didn’t your mom ever say no?” Jackie said, shocked.

“Nah, she didn’t really care,” Anti leaned back against the chair. “I’d go out into the woods around town and just bring back animals and as long as they didn’t destroy anything, she didn’t care. Didn’t really care about much at all, really.” Suddenly, he stiffened, clamping his mouth shut. He reached into his jacket pocket, where he seemed to be grabbing something. A pocket knife, most likely, knowing him.

“My parents would have murdered me if I brought ANY animal home,” Schneep muttered. “Always on about keeping the carpets clean. And looking presentable.” There was a distinct note of bitterness in his voice as he continued. “All the image, all the time. Always their word the end of everything, because clearly they knew what was best. Do not even bother to ask.” He finished pouring the coffee, taking a sip of the hot, hot liquid. Honestly, he was glad they had no idea where he was. Not like they were actually upset when he first left. It was more about the idea of having their son get away than it was about his well being.

Jackie looked between the two of them, eyes sympathetic but saying nothing. “Well…Rama was thinking about getting a dog or something,” he said after a moment. “After Michelle…gets back, we were thinking we’d go adopt one.”

“Big dog?” Anti asked.

“Dunno.”

“You’d probably want an energetic one, to keep up with her. Google good family dogs, or something.”

“Jackie if you get a big dog I am never coming over to your house again,” Schneep warned. “You are on thin ice for getting a dog of any kind.”

“Aw, Volt, I’m sure if you spend time around some dogs, they won’t be as scary,” Jackie said.

“Yeah sure, fine. I will spend time with your new dog. Watching it. From the other side of the room.” Still, Schneep couldn’t help but chuckle. “Get one that is good with cats, too, then Marvin’s cat can be friends with it.”

The conversation continued for a few more minutes before Anti decided he wanted to leave. Sam followed, of course, seemingly attached to him. And by then, Schneep had almost forgotten about the noise in his head. Almost. He appreciated the distraction, at least.
.............................................................................................

“Jackie, please stop hovering!” Schneep snapped, whirling his desk chair around so he could face the shadow peering over his shoulder. “You are like a helicopter!”

“Uh…what?” Jackie’s voice didn’t come from the figure’s location. Instead, the bathroom door opened, and Jackie poked his head out. “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

Schneep visibly paled. “Um…never mind, it is nothing.”

“You said my name, though?” Jackie turned the statement into a question in his confusion.

“No, never mind, go back to…what you were doing. What were you doing?”

Jackie blinked. “I was…going to try to take a shower. I told you that. About two minutes ago. Didn’t you hear me?”

“Oh, uh…no. Sorry.” Schneep looked down, embarrassed.

“Right. Well, uh…I’m gonna try to take a shower. You might want to check on me in, like, ten minutes. Just in case.” He swung the door closed again.

Schneep breathed out, shakily. It was DEFINITELY getting worse. Though he now knew Jackie was in the bathroom, and could hear the faint trickling of water (Jackie rarely ever turned the water up to a high pressure), he could also swear there was another version of him, standing behind his shoulder. He could see the familiar figure, though if he tried to look at it directly, it would always stay in the corner of his vision.

It was fine. Just a couple more days. He swiveled back around, facing his computer, where he was…well, he didn’t really know. Just mindlessly refreshing a few different websites. He didn’t want to do anything in particular.

The figure in the corner of his vision seemed to move closer. But he ignored it. Even though his instincts told him there was someone standing right behind him, face close to him, he knew it wasn’t real, and therefore, wasn’t to be acknowledged.

“/Stop ignoring me./”

Schneep bit back a shriek as he shot to his feet, whirling around. Familiar laughter echoed through the room, going from one corner to the next. He slowly edged along the wall. The figure still stood by his desk chair, but he didn’t look at it. But maybe he should. Because what if it was really…?

Something appeared, sitting on his kitchen table. He jumped, whirling on it, only for it to immediately disappear. “/This is so EASY,/” the familiar voice said, sounding delighted. “/I’m barely putting any effort into my illusions! /Can you just stop taking those pills altogether? /It would make things much less difficult for me./”

“Shut up,” Schneep hissed. “Shut up shut up shut up shut up—”

And again, laughter. It multiplied upon itself, layers and layers of laughing, and he knew it was laughing at him. He couldn’t help but shrink back against the wall. The figure from before walked up towards him, staying just in his peripheral. And there was another one coming from the other side. He grabbed a pen from his desk and threw it towards the second one, to make sure it was really there. It looked like it passed right through, but was that…really happening?

“/Can’t trust your eyes, can you?/” Shadows crawled down the walls. “/Am I even here right now?/ Well, you just don’t know./”

There were more figures. They were starting to fill the room. His head twisted on a pivot to try and keep an eye on them—or look away from them—or try to see which ones are there—or something! They looked like his friends. But their eyes were black, bleeding, just like Distorter’s. He had to be here, right? That had to be why he was seeing things in such great numbers.

He sank to the ground, starting to hyperventilate. The shadows on the wall were warping, distorting. He tried to move, staying close to the wall. But he had no idea where he was in the room. Was he even moving at all?

The shadows kept moving, twisting, forming faces and shapes before fading away. He tried not to look at them. Where was the room’s door? Maybe if he left the apartment, this would end—

Something touched him.

He reacted instinctively, lunging forward blindly. Hitting something solid, he tackled it to the ground. Grabbing in a panic, rolling across the ground, he wondered if he should strike, because this was something, something, it had to be Distorter, he was here mocking him—more laughter!—and that had to be stopped, he’d shake it out of him, he had to stop this!

“…Hen…Henrik, it’s me.”

Schneep blinked, and suddenly things seemed clearer without the sudden, intense feelings. It wasn’t Distorter, it was just…Jackie. He’d pinned Jackie to the ground, one hand balled in his hoodie, the other wrapped around one of his wrists. And Jackie stared at him, wide-eyed but otherwise strangely calm. Missing his glasses, and with wet hair from the shower. The shadows on the walls aren’t there anymore, neither are most of the figures. There was nothing really there.

Gasping, he pulled back, standing up. “Jackie! I-I am so sorry, did I hurt you? Oh mein god, I did, I am sorry, sorry, I—”

“I’m fine, Volt,” Jackie said softly, sitting up. “Are…are you?”

“Am I?”

“You were…on the floor, crawling around.” Jackie explained. “I think you were saying something? I don’t know, it might’ve been in German. I just wanted to check on you, but you didn’t say anything when I talked to you, so I thought I could…I dunno. Just that contact would help. But you, uh…freaked out.”

Schneep felt his heart sink with every new word. He took a few steps away from Jackie, shaking his head slightly.

“You…so anyway, are you okay?” Jackie repeated. He reached out, then stopped and pulled back.

“I…am fine,” Schneep said slowly. Unconvincingly.

“Are you sure?”

“I do not want to talk about it.” His tone was firm.

“A-ah—right.” Jackie backed up. “Well, I’m…gonna sit down for a bit.” And he wandered over to the sofa, sat down, closing his eyes. He didn’t move.

Schneep hurried over to the bedroom area. He didn’t want to say he was hiding behind the wall, but there was no other way to describe it. What he’d just done—it was an accident! It was. But that didn’t matter. Jackie was wary of him, he could tell. Unnerved. Freaked out. Scared. Of him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he buried his face in his hands. One of his best friends was scared of him.

It was only a matter of time. Soon they’d all think he was dangerous, that he would lash out at any minute. It was an accident! But that excuse never helped. They’d find out what was really going on with him, and then they would say, that explains everything! The last thing he ever, ever wanted was to hurt people, much less his friends. And he couldn’t bear the thought that they’d think he would. But it would happen. They would think the worst of him.

He stayed in the bedroom area for the rest of the day. Jackie never came to check on him.
.............................................................................................

Thursday morning, he woke up early. He didn’t mean to. It was just that he usually worked this day, so of course his alarm was set and he’d forgotten to turn it off. Even though he’d called in to work and gotten someone else to cover his shift because he just couldn’t handle working with people right now. Groaning, he slapped the button on his phone to stop the annoyingly cheerful jingle. But now he was up. And unlike most people, he was never able to get back to sleep after being awoken by something.

He stared up at the ceiling. The patterns in the plaster shifted into eyes. Watching him.

Shivering, he got out of bed and started to get dressed as quietly as possible. He didn’t want to wake up Jackie, sleeping on the sofa. God…recently he’d been wishing he’d gotten a different style of apartment, one with more…rooms. There wasn’t a lot of privacy in the studio design. Which hadn’t been a problem until Jackie came to stay.

Jackie, luckily, wasn’t awake. They hadn’t…interacted much since that incident.

Schneep stared at him for a while. Then, before he even knew what he was doing, he was leaving the apartment. Heading down to the bus stop. Not getting onto the line he’d take to work, but instead a different one, that would take him to the east side of the city.

It was still some walk to get to where he was going. He still wasn’t exactly sure why he was going there, he just knew that he needed…something.

Soon, he was knocking on a door, bouncing in place while he waited. Slow footsteps on the other side, and then it opened. “Oh hello—no, Mister, stay away from the door! Go back!—hello, Henrik. Anyt’ing I can do for you?” Marvin smiled.

“Hello, Marvin.” Schneep tried to smile. It didn’t work. “Um…may I come inside?”

“O’course.” Marvin stood to the side as Schneep brushed past him, quickly shutting the door behind him as Mr. Fluffington walked up close. “No. No cats outside, Mister.” He waved his cane in the cat’s general direction, and Fluffington responded by trotting away and weaving around Schneep’s legs. “Anyway, y’need somet’ing?”

“I just…” Schneep took a deep breath. “Am having trouble. Lately. With certain…things.”

He didn’t have to explain anything else. Marvin looked confused for a moment, but then nodded. “Well, y’can stay here for a while, I s’pose. Jems is in the parlor if you want t’talk to him.”

Schneep nodded, and ducked inside the other room. JJ was sitting on the sofa, leaning on an arm and scrolling through his phone. Upon hearing the footsteps, he looked up, surprised. Then he picked up a nearby pen and notebook and wrote down. 'Oh hello Volt. It’s nice to see you! Do you need anything?'

“I…need to just…” Another deep breath. “My medication. It…ran out. Unexpectedly. Last week.” He paused. “Can I just…stay with the two of you?”

JJ’s eyes widened, and he glanced over at Marvin standing in the doorway. Y'es, of course,' he wrote. 'Is there anything else?'

“No, it is fine.” Schneep sat down on the sofa next to Jameson, leaning back and closing his eyes. “Just some time, please.”

The two of them seemed to understand. And so some time passed in silence. It was…comfortable. Staying in the living room while JJ looked through his phone and Marvin read in his usual armchair. After a while Mr. Flufflington jumped onto Schneep’s lap and promptly fell asleep, preventing him from leaving even if he wanted to.

But soon, Schneep felt his phone start to buzz in his pocket. He didn’t look at it, not wanting to ruin the moment. Yet it kept buzzing.

Ding! A text tone went off. Schneep jumped and looked around, unsure if he really heard that or if it was just part of the noise. But then he saw Jameson typing something out and shrugged it off. Until Jameson gave him an odd look. And then a couple more as he continued the text conversation. After a while, he put the phone down and picked up the notebook, writing, 'Jackie was wondering where you were. Apparently you aren’t responding to his messages.'

“Oh.” Schneep squirmed, though that soon got an upset look from Fluffington, so he stopped. “Well…my phone is in my pocket. And there is a cat here.”

'Well I told him you were here, and he’s coming over.'

“What?!” The sudden startled motion definitely dislodged Fluffington, who jumped off and walked away. “Oh no, sorry kitty!” Schneep looked at JJ. “Why did you say that?!”

'He was worried,' Jameson explained. 'He thought you-know-who was behind it. So now he’s coming by, and Anti said he might come too because apparently Jackie sent him a few freaked-out messages before he texted me.'

Schneep looked down. Jackie was going to be so upset, knowing he made him worry over nothing. Well, no way to avoid it.

It seemed like only a few minutes later when the doorbell rang. Marvin got up to get it again. Schneep tried to sink further into the sofa cushions, and JJ put a hand on his leg as a show of support. Soon Jackie came bursting into the room. “Henrik! What happened?! Why’d you leave?! I mean I don’t mind if you have somewhere to go but usually you tell me. Is something wrong?”

Anti and Marvin appeared behind him. “Y’know I think something IS wrong,” Anti muttered. “Volt, you look like a kid heading to detention after school. What happened?”

Schneep was talking before he was even fully aware of it. “Jackie, I am so sorry, I made you worry for nothing, I do not even know why I came here, probably because these two already know, which would make it easier, and also they have a cat and that makes a lot better, but now I made you worry about nothing and I know I am a bad friend but I promise I would not hurt you ever, I really do, anyway I was on autopilot walking here, feeling sort of out of all sorts of energy and I don’t know, I thought it would help maybe—”

“Jesus fuck, man,” Anti said. “Slow down and breathe, maybe.”

“What are you talking about?” Jackie asked. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me. Is…is this still about the thing that happened yesterday?”

“It is not me!” Schneep stood up. “I promise you, this is not an indication of who I really am, you know who I am, I have not been hiding anything from you—well, yes, I have, but nothing that is any big indication of who I am, it is just that I ran out, and that changes things—”

“Ran out of what?” Jackie asked, baffled.

“My medication!” Schneep blurted out. “I take—it is called Zyprexa, or something like that, I cannot quite remember right now. I will have to ask Malcolm when I see him tomorrow, or I could just check the labelling—”

“Henrik, please, slow down,” Jackie said, laughing a bit. “I can’t keep up. You take something? I didn’t know that. But there’s nothing wrong with that, you know I do, too. And JJ does, right?” He glanced over at JJ, who nodded. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“It is different,” Schneep insisted. “Yours are to regulate your focus and such, this is…it is different.”

Jackie frowned. “It can’t be that different?”

“Uhh…” Anti coughed awkwardly. “I mean, not in principle, but I get the feeling this is…I don’t want to say ‘different’ again cause the two of you have said that enough.” He paused. “Zyprexa is an antipsychotic, and so it, you know, has different effects than your guys’ Dexedrine and Adderall and—”

“Anti, how do you know what I take?” Jackie asked.

“That’s beside the point,” Anti hurriedly said. “The point is that…Schneep is trying to say something.”

Schneep felt his breath shake, coming out shorter. “I—I—I—” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I cannot. Marvin, Jamie, I told you, you tell them.”

“Are you sure?” Marvin asked. He waited for Schneep to nod. “Well…if you know for sure.” And he turned to Jackie and Anti. “Henrik talked to me one day, I t’ink it was last winter. He said he…has a condition. And t’at he sometimes sees t’ings. Not real t’ings, just…in his head. I s’pose there are other symptoms, too.”

Jackie’s eyes slowly widened. His mouth formed a small O shape. Anti didn’t say anything.

Schneep opened his eyes. “I…could not say anything to you two,” he said slowly. “It is different with these ones, I thought…thought Marvin would understand, which he has. And Jamie just stumbled upon it, really. But I was not so bothered, I think, because I have not known them for so long.” Tears started to build. “You two—I-I care for you very much and—and now that you think the worst of me—”

“Wait, what the fuck?!” Anti burst in. “No! I don’t think the worst of you, what the hell?”

“I know how it is,” Schneep mumbled. “People always think, ‘you have this thing, you are dangerous.’ I am a little odd, perhaps, but I would never, ever—”

“Volt, for fuck’s sake.” Anti sounded exasperated, but not in a bad way. “First off, the stigma around psychosis is stupid. Always has been. I blame poorly-researched movies and shit. Second of all, that doesn’t change who you are. You are our friend.”

“But yesterday, I—Jackie, I—”

“That’s why you freaked out,” Jackie whispered. “You were—were seeing things that weren’t there.”

“I did not mean to hurt you,” Schneep said desperately. “And I am so, so sorry, I-I thought—” The tears were actively flowing now. “It was that Distorter, he took it to mess with me—a-and he might have been there, making it worse with his—his fucking illusions—I do not know, I can never tell if he is really there or if I am just—I am sorry—”

Jackie stepped forward and wrapped him in a tight hug.

All words left him. Schneep’s mind went blank. This was not…not what he was expecting at all.

“No, I’M sorry,” Jackie said. “I’m sorry you have to go through this. That you thought I would be anything but one hundred percent supportive. I am so sorry you felt like you had to hide this. You’re one of my best friends, Henrik. I’ll always be here for you.”

His breath hitched in his throat. “But…yes-yesterday, I must have scared you—”

“I won’t lie, I was a bit shocked,” Jackie said, laughing a bit. “But it was a mistake, Hen. I know this. And I forgive you for it. The circumstances weren’t exactly under your control.”

And with that, Schneep absolutely melted into the hug, now sobbing. For so long, he’d kept this to himself. Afraid of what would happen. How they would react. But now, seeing the two of them showing nothing but love and support…he couldn’t handle it.

The others crowded in closer. Jameson and Marvin joined in the hug. Anti opted for just putting a hand on Schneep’s shoulder, but it was essentially his equivalent of a hug. Schneep wasn’t sure how long they stayed there. A few minutes at least. Of course, it couldn’t last forever. Eventually they all pulled away, Marvin handed Schneep a handkerchief, and they moved on.

“Do you feel comfortable sharing details?” Anti asked tentatively. “Or is that too much too soon?”

“Well…” Schneep hesitated. “It feels like…disorienting, much of the time. Thoughts racing, but at the same time, I am very tired. It used to be I could not get out of bed for a few days at a time, then became very active. And of course, there are things and ideas that are not there. Very…unpleasant.”

“Should we, like, do anything for you?” Jackie asked. “Like, do you want us to help?”

“I…have heard a thing about taking a picture of something,” Schneep said slowly. “And sending it to others to see if it is really there.”

Anti suddenly slapped his own forehead. “That’s what you told me to do with Sam! Then you said it was a mean joke when I sent the picture of them! That’s how you knew to do it!”

“Yes,” Schneep said. “Anyway, I may do that sometimes. Usually I am better at telling the difference, but Distorter…his powers are just more hallucinations.”

“Oh my god.” Jackie covered his mouth. “I hadn’t even considered…that must be scary, Hen, I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you, Jackie.” Schneep smiled softly. “Ah…actually, there is another thing. Tomorrow the refill is supposed to come in. I have to go over to my therapist’s office to get it. Could one of you…drive me?”

“I could,” Jackie offered.

'And I could if that doesn’t work out,' JJ added. 'By the way, do you still want to stay here for a while longer?'

“I…if we all could,” Schneep said.

Everyone smiled, and assured him they’d stay. Jackie leaned close and said gently, “Hey. It’s going to be okay.”

And Schneep believed him.



Part Fifteen of the Switch AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of an ongoing fic series I started in April 2019. Marvin is under some stress lately. Not only are the kids still missing, and he feels as though he's not doing enough to help them, but he's been having strange dreams of memories lately.]
.............................................................................................

Nothing could be better on a rainy day than lying in bed with a book and a cup of tea. Marvin adjusted the pillows behind him as he propped up the book. But before he could take in a sentence, he heard a faint mrrp? Glancing at the door to his room, he saw Mr. Fluffington squeeze his way through the gap in the doorway. “Hey, Mister,” he said, smiling. “You here to keep me company? I woul’ appreciate it.”

Fluffington wandered over to the bed. Marvin lowered his hand, dangling it over the side. After sniffing it for a bit, Fluffington butted his head against it and hopped up onto the mattress. Correction: nothing could be better on a rainy day than lying in bed with a book, a cup of tea, and a cat. “Normally I’d warn ye against sittin’ on me and trappin’ me on my bed,” Marvin said, idly stroking Fluffington’s back. “But I’m not goin’ anywhere today, so feel free.”

Though Marvin did have to be honest with himself: he couldn’t shake the lingering feeling that he should be doing something. After all, the kids were still missing. Schneep was out almost every night looking for them, JJ was studying any spells that could help—at this very moment, in fact—and Jackie and Anti were…well, they were doing their best. The stress of having their respective kids missing for two weeks now was wearing on them both. Everyone was involved except for Marvin, and he couldn’t help but feel that he should be helping right now.

“Ridiculous feeling,” Marvin muttered to himself. “‘M doin’ all I can.” Fluffington made another mrrp sound, stretching out across Marvin’s legs. “Ah, you’re lucky, Mister. You don’ have t’do anyt’ing at all. We even take care of food for you. Maybe I shoul’ve been born a cat, t’at sounds amazing.”

He leaned back against the pillows, looking up at the ceiling. So tired today. Some days he woke up and could feel the fatigue dragging down at him like an anchor pulling him into the ocean. Inevitably, the guilt would come with it, telling him that he shouldn’t just be lying in bed. He should be productive! Nevermind if he physically couldn’t walk that far! Marvin did his best to ignore that part of him, but sometimes he couldn’t help it.

And as he tried and failed to focus on the story in the book before him, he found that this was one of those times. That niggling feeling was growing quickly in intensity. Sighing, he picked up the bookmark from the nightstand, slid it between the pages, and slowly sat up straight, trying not to disturb Fluffington. He managed to gently nudge the cat away, pulling off the miracle of moving without making him run away. With not a small amount of effort, he walked down the hall, and with some more effort and a few breaks, he climbed the stairs to the second story.

Ever since Marvin had turned the office on the first floor into his bedroom, JJ had started using the second upstairs bedroom to practice spells. He’d moved all his spellbooks and any other materials there, and recently he’d been considering somehow padding or reinforcing the walls in case any spells backfired in an explosive way.

Marvin stopped outside the room’s door, breathing heavily and leaning against the wall. His legs were trembling, but he only took a moment before standing up straight and knocking on the door. Only a few seconds later, JJ opened it, looking surprised.

“Hey Jems,” Marvin said, smiling. “I came to check on you.”

JJ nodded slowly, still looking surprised, and walked further back into the room. Marvin poked his head through the doorway, scanning the shelves full of books, the desk with yet more books, and the simple wooden table in the center of the room, free of books. “I see your collection is growin’ fast,” he whistled, impressed.

“Oh, are you Marvin?” There was a woman in the room, red-haired and wearing a pale yellow hoodie. She waved, friendly. “Hello. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Aoife.”

“Ah, you’re t’at other magician,” Marvin recalled. “The one who came to rescue Jems when he left the city an’ ran into—I shoul’ say thank you for t’at. Thank you. It’s a pleasure t’meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Aoife said. “JJ’s told me a lot about you. Though I seem to have underestimated your Irish accent.”

Marvin laughed. “Well, I can pick up a trace o’the same in you. Especially your name, t’at’s a strong Irish name if I’ve ever heard one.”

JJ tapped the table, drawing Marvin’s attention back to him. He held up a notepad, which had apparently been left nearby, on which he’d written, 'I thought you were going to rest today.'

“It’s fine,” Marvin dismissed. “I jus’ wanted t’pop right in, see what you two were doin’, magic-wise.”

“Well, Jameson was just telling me about his attempts at animal transformation,” Aoife explained. “I’m impressed, in all honesty. It’s a very difficult spell.”

'I still haven’t done it,' JJ wrote, pouting a bit.

“But you’ve gotten close! Marvin, have you seen him?”

“Yes, apparently he’s s’posed to have someone t’ere when tryin’,” Marvin nodded. “T’ere was a lot of smoke. And feathers.” He paused, swaying on his feet for a moment. “Are you doin’ anyt’ing else? Is t’ere…t’ere anyt’ing I can do to help you?”

'Yes, you can go back to bed,' JJ said sternly.

“Aw, c’mon, Jems, don’ be like that.”

'I’m serious. You’ve gotten much paler in the last few minutes.'

“But—” Marvin wanted to protest, but saw JJ immediately writing again and stopped.

'I know you want to help. But you’re always telling me to take care of myself, shouldn’t you do the same for yourself?' JJ smiled. 'Hey, if you want something to do, are you up for practising some more sign? We still need to get the hang of it.'

“I s’pose I could,” Marvin mumbled. He took a step backwards, wobbling for a moment. “Hey, when you two are done with your magic, come tell me about it, alrigh’? It’s int’restin’.”

'Of course!'

Marvin waved goodbye awkwardly and headed back downstairs, thankfully finding it easier than heading up. He only had to stop twice: once on the stairs and once in the hallway. Entering his room again, he sighed and collapsed on the bed. Well. Looks like today was just going to be another one of those days.

A small cat face poked into his field of view and he chuckled. At least Mr. Fluffington was still here. Marvin patted him on the head, then reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a book. Not the one he had before. Instead, this one was titled: “Basics of BSL: Learn to Sign in Ten Chapters.” He opened to the spot he had marked and started to read intently.
.............................................................................................

The room was freezing, bone-deep cold leeching the warmth from any exposed skin. He could see parts of the sky through the gaps in the boards across the window. It looked just as gray and cold as it was inside.

His breath rattled in his throat, and he coughed into the tattered pillowcase. Even though the door was ajar, he didn’t think he’d be able to make it off the bed and across the room. He was so…so tired. This was the sort of fatigue that left weakness in every limb, a fatigue that he was, unfortunately, all too familiar with. Sometimes when he felt like this, he couldn’t help but remember the first time: barely eight years old, lying in bed too tired to even move, terrified that it would stay that way for the rest of his life.

But at least back then, he had some family still there to stay with him. Now? He didn’t even know where he was or how he got here, and he’d much rather be alone than with this thing.

Speaking of which…he glanced over at the door again, just in time to see it start to creak open. A hand crept into the room, blackened and dead-looking. He immediately turned his head away, burying it in the pillow. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep, it would go away. Doubtful, but it’s worth trying.

He didn’t hear the footsteps, but he felt the sudden weight settle down on the edge of the bed. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to keep his breathing slow and even, difficult as it was. The silence in the room weighed down on him. And then he felt the weight shift, getting closer to him. “Still sick, then?” said that voice, that eerie voice with absolutely nothing memorable about it. “/Aww./”

The blanket was pulled back. It was thin, but it was a layer of warmth, and without it, he started shivering. “/Hey./” A hand grabbed his shoulder and started shaking. “/I know you’re not asleep. /Look at me. /LOOK AT ME./”

He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he didn’t, so he lifted up his head and glanced over his shoulder. There it was. Black eyes dripping. Face always smiling. “Leave me alone,” he whispered, voice rasping from disuse.

“/But I’m here to help you./” It sounded upset, but of course, he didn’t believe it for a second. “/See?/” In its hand, it held a small purplish bottle with a white cap. It held it up and waved it. “/I got you medicine./”

“N-no…” He pushed himself upward, but wasn’t able to completely get into a sitting position, so he ended up awkwardly scooting back against the bed’s headboard. “No, I-I don’ want…”

“/Don’t want what?/” It crawled closer, and he flinched, unable to get farther away. “/You should accept help from your friends, you know./”

“You’re not my friend,” he mumbled, turning his head away. And besides, he didn’t want anything that it would give him. Past experiences have proved that it wouldn’t be anything good.

“/Now that’s just mean./” He glanced toward it just in time to see it unscrewing the lid of the bottle. “/I just want the best for you./” Quickly, its hand shot out and grabbed him by the chin, turning his face toward it. He tried to push it away, but in this condition it just turned into weak flailing. “/Now help me help you, or I’ll have to do something drastic./”
.............................................................................................

Marvin woke up with a start, still shivering from the cold. It took a solid minute for him to look around and ground himself in his surroundings. It was just his room. Everything was fine. Everything was okay. Slowly, half-expecting something to grab him from the shadows, he reached out and turned on the lamp on his nightstand.

The light was comforting. Nothing could hide in the light. But even with that, his eyes kept scanning the area for anything. After a few searches of the room, he sighed, leaning back against the pillows.

Why could he only remember things in dreams? Marvin didn’t know much about memory, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t how it worked. It wasn’t how it worked for Jackie. HE remembered every moment of the nine months he spent with Distorter. Meanwhile, Marvin didn’t even know how long he was with that…creature. But given how many dreams he’d had, it must have been quite a while.

He lay back down, but his eyes felt glued open. It was some time before sleep came again.
.............................................................................................

Good Owl Books was a quiet shop. True, it received a steady stream of customers, but there was always a hush in the air, like stepping into a library. Except you could actually keep the books you got here. The shop owners were a pair of elderly women who were understanding of their employees’ needs, and always forgiving of absences. Not to mention the shop’s collection was extensive, mostly fiction but with an impressive set of nonfiction as well. They even had a small area of the shop that was taken up by a coffee stand. And it was for all these reasons that Marvin had taken a job here.

He was working the register today. A simple enough task, so he was happy to take it whenever it was available. It was much easier than moving boxes of books from storage to the shelves. The manager allowed him to read when he wasn’t busy helping anyone, provided he keep an eye on his own book so it didn’t get mixed up with the wares. Also, they had chairs for the workers behind the registers. Now that was a definite improvement since Marvin’s own time.

The sound of soft footsteps on the shop carpet was familiar enough that Marvin instantly bookmarked his place and got ready to help the approaching customer. He slid the book under the counter and looked up. “Hello, how was your shoppi—wait.” Marvin blinked. “Miss Stacy?”

“Oh, so this is where you work.” Stacy looked mildly surprised at this. It was understandable, though. After all, she’d just run into an acquaintance in a place she wasn’t expecting at all. “Well, it, um…” She glanced around, clearly feeling awkward for once in her life. “It suits you.”

“T’ank you.” Marvin cleared his throat. “I haven’ seen you in here before. Just droppin’ by?”

“Yes, I figured if I’m going to be staying in town indefinitely, then I might as well get familiar with the area.” Stacy set a small stack of books on the counter. “And pick up some reading material while I’m here.”

“Great idea.” Marvin picked up the fancy scanner and started looking for the barcodes. “Ye much of a reader, Miss Stacy?”

“Just Stacy is fine,” she said. “And no, not really. My sister was always more into books than me.”

“Sister?” Marvin raised an eyebrow, curious, but then made his face blank as he decided not to push it. He wasn’t sure if the two of them were close enough to talk about that.

But nonetheless, Stacy WANTED to talk about it. “Yes, she lived here,” she explained. “Moved here for college, then decided to settle down with her boyfriend and get married. We visited each other as often as we could, but flights are expensive, unfortunately.”

Marvin nodded, trying to look understanding. He’d scanned about three of the books, and there were about five left.

“So…you like books, right?” Stacy asked.

“Woul’ I be workin’ here if I didn’?”

She chuckled a bit. “Well, I wasn’t sure. I thought maybe it was close enough by that your partner could drive you—”

“My what?” Marvin blinked, taken aback by the phrase.

“Your…partner,” Stacy said slowly. “You know, Jameson.”

It took a moment for ‘partner’ to register as something other than ‘for business,’ and the moment it did, he dropped the scanner in shock. “No! No, Jems and I aren’—not that way.”

“Oh my god I’m so sorry.” Stacy’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth in shock. “I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Well, a lot of people t’ink t’at, but no, we’re not—not together.” Marvin felt his face grow flushed.

“I shouldn’t have thought—just because you live together—”

“It’s alrigh’, don’ worry.” Marvin picked up the scanner again. “We’re close friends, t’at’s all. I’m not Jems’s type, anyway, and he’s not mine.” He coughed awkwardly, and scanned another book. “What were ye goin’ t’say? About books?”

“I was…just going to ask if you had any suggestions,” Stacy muttered. “Based on these ones here.”

“Ah.” Marvin set down the book and looked over Stacy’s choices. Two biographies, one advice book, four realistic fiction novels, and one…well, that was odd. “Sorry to ask, but…did you mean t’get t’is picture book?”

“Oh. Um…yeah.” Stacy shifted awkwardly. “It’s stupid, it just reminded me of my niece.”

“T’at’s not stupid at all.” Marvin scanned the cover of the book. A simple drawing of three rabbits took up the cover, the art style soft and watery in pastel colors. “I t’ink it’s sweet t’at you’re t’inkin’ of her. She’d like it.”

“Oh…yeah, she did. It was her favorite.”

Marvin glanced up. He wasn’t all that great at judging tone of voice, but even he could hear the deep sadness in Stacy’s last sentence. Immediately, he felt bad for unknowingly bringing up something to cause that, so he cleared his throat again and moved on, scanning the picture book. “Well, I can’ really give you suggestions, t’be honest. I’m more of a fantasy type of reader. Maybe jus’ stick wit’ the section you found these in.”

“Right.” Stacy nodded.

Marvin finished scanning the rest of the books in silence. He hit a couple buttons on the cash register. “T’at’d be 147.25,” he said.

“Yes, yes.” Stacy took a wallet out of her purse and pulled out a debit card. As Marvin scanned it, she shifted awkwardly on her feet. As he handed her the receipt and a pen for her signature, she suddenly said, “Can I tell you something?”

Marvin looked up, surprised. “Ah…I s’pose so?”

“The reason I came to this country…wasn’t originally for a vacation,” she said slowly. “I come here every year, around the same date. Normally I don’t stay this long, but I was…I wanted to make sure everything worked out with you, after I found Jackie.”

“…Oh?” This felt deeply personal, and Marvin wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hear it, but she seemed like she needed to say this.

“I come here to pay respects,” Stacy said, almost too quiet to even hear. “To…my sister. And her kids.”

“Oh.” Marvin’s stomach slowly sank. “My…my condolences, Miss Stacy.”

“It happened years ago, at this point, but I still remember them.” Stacy kept her eyes down at the counter. “They were my only family.”

“I…I’m so sorry.” Marvin shook his head slowly.

“Thank you.” Stacy took a deep breath, then picked up the pen and signed the receipt. She handed it back to Marvin, who put it into the appropriate slot in the cash register. “I’m sorry for suddenly bringing this up. I just…I’ve been thinking about them lately.”

“You had t’get it off your mind, it’s alrigh’,” Marvin nodded. “I just hope t’at you don’ do t’at wit’ every cashier.”

Stacy laughed suddenly. “No, don’t worry. I suppose that…because I recognized you, it just all came spilling out. I’m still so sorry. I promise I’m not usually like that.”

“It’s really alrigh’. Now, d’you need a bag?”

“Oh. Oh right. Yes, please.” Again, Stacy fell silent, watching as Marvin slid the books into a bag. “Thank you.” She took it from him, then cleared her throat. “Well…perhaps I’ll see you soon.”

“Perhaps. G’bye, Miss Stacy. Feel free to return anytime.”

Marvin turned to the cash register and pretended to mess with it while Stacy left. He didn’t move until he heard the bell at the store’s entrance chime merrily. Then he slumped. “Well.” It was all he could say. “Well.” That was…a very odd encounter. He wasn’t too familiar with Stacy, but he knew enough to know that was sort of out of character. It must have really been weighing on her. He couldn’t help but wonder if she had anyone she could talk to about this.

He shook his head. This wasn’t the time to think about this. He was at work, and in fact he could see another customer heading towards the till. Marvin straightened, put his best customer service smile on, and got back to work.
.............................................................................................

The darkness was almost complete. Almost being the key word. There was a sliver of gray light coming from underneath the closet door. He pressed his face to the floor to peer out from under it. Why was everything in this place, even the light, tinted with gray? But gray was better than pure blackness, so he stayed close to the small bit of light.

It felt like the room was getting smaller. He knew it wasn’t, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling. And he could barely move as it was, his legs pressed against the wall. Maybe it was smaller than last time. Maybe that was why he thought it was shrinking.

Everything was cramped. His throat was dry, and his stomach clenched painfully. How long had it been? Must’ve been almost a day. A day since he…he couldn’t remember what he did, but he remembered that it got angry with him. “/If you’re going to be like that, then I’ll just leave you alone!/” It had shouted.

He didn’t want to be left alone anymore. Slowly, he reached up and knocked on the closet door. “Are you th…?” he asked, quieter than he wanted. He cleared his throat and hit the door again. “Are you here? Can you hear me? I…I’m sorry.” His voice broke on the last word. “Please, I’m sorry.”

There was no answer. He pushed himself into a sitting position, pausing for a moment as his head spun, and banged against the door as hard as he could. “Can you hear me?!” he yelled. “Please! I’m sorry, jus’…jus’ let me out!”

Long after his fists started to hurt, the voice came from the other side. “/Did I hear you asking for me?/”

He rested his forehead against the wood of the door. “Please…I-I’m sorry. Jus’ please, please let me out.”

“/Oh? /But didn’t you want to be alone?/” Its voice was mocking him. “/Didn’t you want me to go?/”

“No…” he whispered, slumping downward. “No, I don’ want t’at.”

“/Well, what do you want, then?/”

A sob escaped his throat. He wanted to know where he was and why he was here. He wanted to get out of this twisted house. He wanted his cards back. He wanted his life back. He wanted to see his friends and family again. He wanted to go home.

“/I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite catch that./”

But of course, it didn’t want to hear any of that. It only wanted to hear one thing. “I want…to be with you. Because…we’re friends.”

Silence. And then the door slowly opened. With his weight resting against it, he fell forward. Right into a pair of arms. He shuddered, but didn’t pull away. “/I’m glad you remembered that,/” the voice said cheerfully. “/We really shouldn’t fight like this, you know. B/ut you’re sorry, so it’s okay./”

He nodded, and closed his eyes.
.............................................................................................

Marvin woke up, breathing hard. His throat hurt, like he’d been crying out without even knowing about it. Just like every other time he woke up, he turned on the light and scanned the bedroom.

“/Hello again./”

He tried to cry out, but it turned into a wheezy rasp. It was him. Distorter. Standing in the corner of his bedroom and grinning. Immediately, Marvin made to get away, scrambling out of bed and falling onto the floor. He grabbed the nightstand and pulled himself up, then ran for the door.

“/Ah ah ah./” Just as Marvin reached for the doorknob, a blackened hand grabbed his wrist, and then the other, pulling his arms back. “/I need a favor, Marvy./”

“Don’t call me—!”

He wasn’t able to finish the sentence. Distorter yanked him backwards and threw him to the ground, slamming him hard against the floor. While Marvin was still dazed, he wrapped his hand around his neck and pressed down. Marvin choked and instinctively grabbed Distorter’s hand to try and stop him. “/Now that I have your attention,/” Distorter said calmly. “/I want you to deliver a message. /Because he probably won’t listen to me, so I’ll ask you./”

Eyes wide, Marvin shook his head. “I’d never—”

“/It’s just a small favor. /Calm down./” Distorter pressed his other hand against Marvin’s mouth. “/You look so upset./ You should smile more./” He leaned closer, the blood from his eyes dripping onto Marvin’s face. “/Listen to me./ Only listen to me. /No room for anything else./”

Thoughts were becoming difficult. Marvin struggled to move, but he kept…kept forgetting. Forgetting…something. Did it really…did it really matter? What was happening…?

“/Listen to me./”
.............................................................................................

There was a door. He knew it, recognized it, but the details couldn’t pierce the thick gray fog in his brain. His hand reached out, and he watched it, as if it wasn’t his at all, but someone else’s. And the hand knocked.

When nobody answered, he knocked again.

And again. Much harder.

That one finally got a response: “Alright, I’m fucking coming, don’t break the door down!”

Footsteps from the inside, and then the door opened. A man was standing there, brown hair and green-and-blue eyes, wearing a black long-sleeved shirt with some sort of band logo on it. The man was familiar, very familiar, and he struggled to remember. But the gears of his mind were clogged up with gray cotton, and he fell back down into the fog. “Marvin?” The man asked, surprised. “What are you—your eyes!”

He took a step forward, staggered, and fell against the man, who stumbled in turn but caught him. “…hhhnntsseeeyuhh.” A garble of sounds fell out of his mouth.

“M-Marv? What…?” The man stepped backwards and awkwardly reached around to close the door. “It’s him, isn’t it? What did he do?”

He blinked, and the motion caused two streams of warm red liquid to slip from his eyes. Those eyes locked onto the man’s face. 'That’s him,' whispered a voice. 'Tell him what I told you.' A voice that didn’t stand out at all, yet he couldn’t stop listening to it. 'Give him the message.' The only thing in the gray fog that gave him a purpose, so he listened. He stared at the man, looking at him so worried, and said, “He wants to see you.”

The man was silent. “He does, huh? Well, he could’ve told me himself instead of…this.”

A light appeared in the corner of his vision. A green light. He glanced in that direction. A small green sphere was floating in the air, flicking a tail. An eyeball. It came closer, and the light was…piercing. Shining through the fog. He stared at it, transfixed.

“You don’t look so good. Here, sit down.” The man pulled him toward a sofa and set him down, crouching down across from him so their eyes were level. “Did this fucker have anything else to say to me?”

'The address.' The return of the voice made him look away from the green light from the eyeball. Strange, it sounded quieter when he was staring at the light. “68 Aspen Street,” he said, monotone. “Three days from now, at noon.”

“68 on Aspen?” The man repeated, confused. Then his eyes widened. “That’s the—Are you sure?”

“68 Aspen Street. Three days from now, at noon.”

“Goddammit, Marvin, snap out of this!” The man grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “He’s treating you like a fucking puppet, it’s sick! You’re so much more than that. Wake up!”

He blinked again. Those words…they were echoing through the fog, but muffled. Still, he felt like he should focus on them. On this man.

“C’mon, c’mon.” The man shook him again. “How’d you get here? Jackson couldn’t have driven you. Did you walk?”

Jackson? Jackson, Jackson…J…JJ? Did he walk here without him? He’d be upset about that…about him pushing himself.

That eyeball appeared in front of him again, shining even brighter. He heard the man—he knew him he knew him—gasp, but he was too focused on the light. It hurt his eyes, hurt his head—no, it hurt the fog inside his head. It was…burning it away.

Wait, where was he? He’d been here before. It was a friend’s home, wasn’t it? A friend…who was staring at him.

Something suddenly snapped. Marvin gasped. “Anti!”

“Oh thank god,” Anti sighed, relieved. The small eyeball—Sam, it was Sam—flew forward and bopped against Marvin’s forehead. “What happened?”

“I…don’t quite remember.” Marvin shook his head. “‘T’s all…foggy.”

“Well. That’s okay.” Anti leaned back. “Do you want me to call someone?”

“I…Jems. Can you call him?” Marvin’s voice sounded very small. “I want to go home.”

“Right. I’ll text him.” Anti took his phone out of his pocket and started typing.

“Right.” Marvin felt himself slowly listing to the side, and he let it happen, lying on the sofa. Sam flew down and settled on his head, their glow slowly pulsing. He didn’t really notice.

“So…you’re alright?” Anti asked.

Marvin didn’t answer for a while. Anti waited, but eventually got up and started to walk away. It was then that Marvin spoke up. “Why…do I never do enough?”

Anti turned back to him. “You do what you can. I mean, who would be Jackson’s best friend if you weren’t here? Who’d I go to the pub with? Who’d look after Mr. Flufflington?” He paused. “If you ask me, all that sounds like enough.”

Marvin stared at him. He nodded. “Alrigh’.”

“Alright.” Anti turned away again. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“T’anks.” Marvin let his eyes fall shut.

Maybe he should just rest. He was so tired. He should let himself rest.