Fae drifted.
It was a strange sort of drift, though. She felt as if she was asleep, and yet when she awoke, the things she saw…
They didn’t make sense.
I was…
A prisoner.
But then Madeline…
So why then… am I now…?
When she faded into waking, every time, she was in a small room. It was like someone’s private study. Bookshelves lined the walls to the left and right, while the far wall had numerous paintings hanging on it. Flickering lamps lent a warm, orange glow to the room and, dim though they were, it felt inviting.
In the center of the room, seated on a stool before an easel, was a man. Fae couldn’t make out details. He was slender, but the lights hit him at such an angle that the details of his clothes were in shadow, and he wore an angled fedora, tilted downwards, so she couldn’t properly see his face.
He was painting. She could see that much. And he held the brush in his left hand. But she couldn’t see what he was painting. And when she tried to move…
It’s like…
I’m not… really here…
She fell asleep, and the study vanished.
But when she awoke, she was there again. Four, five, six times she came back to this study, and on the seventh…
The man looked up.
She still couldn’t see his face, but she saw light gleam off of his eyes. They were the color of glossy amber, and had a curious tilt to them. They narrowed slightly in a way that suggested a smile.
“So you’ve come,” he said. His voice was warm, melodious, inviting.
“Where…?” Fae started, astonished to find her voice. It seemed so long since she’d used it, and yet it came out so clearly.
“This is —” the man started, but then his eyes widened a shade, and he tilted his head up. “Ah. I see. You’re… hmm. So it isn’t quite time, yet.”
“Time for what?” Fae asked.
“You’ll see.” The man turned back to his painting, taking his eyes off of Fae. His brush moved with fine, smooth strokes, and Fae dearly longed to see what picture he was bringing to life. “Whatever happens, don’t be afraid. There is always hope, for those willing to seek it out.”
“Why are you speaking in riddles?”
The man chuckled softly. “Is that how they sound? Hmm. Don’t worry. When we actually meet, it will all become clear. So please… don’t be frightened. And… don’t be too angry with her.”
“With who?” Fae asked, a spike of fear in her heart despite the man’s soothing tone.
“Farewell for now… Fae.”
Fae was silent. The way he spoke her name carried such familiarity. And soon, the study faded to black, and she was swallowed up by sleep once more.
It was a strange sort of sleep this time, though. She didn’t seem to be properly sleeping, but rather… unable to see. She couldn’t feel anything, either. Not at all. Not the softness of sheets, or any sort of movement, the feeling of wind or rain or warmth on her skin.
There was nothing.
But she could hear. There were voices, muddled, distant. For a while, she couldn’t make out the words. Was it because she was half-asleep? No… it didn’t feel like that. She felt wide awake, for the first time in so long.
So then why is everything so dark? Why can’t I feel anything? Why can’t I…
Fae gasped as a woman appeared in the darkness. As if a spotlight shone on her, she was the only thing Fae could see.
“Who are you?” Fae asked.
The woman had a sort of ageless appearance to her. She reminded Fae of Selphine, in a way — a woman who Fae knew was much older than her, and yet didn’t look old in the slightest. Also reminding her of Selphine was the woman’s serene, calm demeanor. Golden hair fell in a tumble of curls around her shoulders, and she wore a simple white dress with gold beading along the cuffs of the flared sleeves, and around the hem of the long skirt. She was beautiful, serene, someone who seemed so unassuming, and yet…
“Who are you?” Fae repeated, fear shooting through her. Why did this woman fill her with such dread?
“I am…” the woman started, trailing off. She had a beautiful, flowing voice, and yet something about the way she spoke… it was like she wasn’t used to using it. “I am… a sojourner.”
“What do you mean?” Fae asked. She took a step back, and it was only then that she realized she was standing. She couldn’t feel anything — not the floor beneath her feet, no walls around her, nothing. “Where am I? Why is it so dark?”
“Because we have not yet adjusted to our new circumstances,” the sojourner said.
“What do you mean?” Fae asked, glaring. “No riddles! Where are my friends? Where am I? What happened to me?”
“Your last question, yes,” the woman said, nodding. “That is… the only one that matters. In truth, something has happened to both of us. And you will soon see.”
“I can’t see anything except you.”
“That will change in just a moment,” the sojourner said. “Please, Fae. Do not be afraid.”
“Give me a good reason,” Fae said through gritted teeth. Why was she so angry, so panicked? Confusion in this circumstance she could understand, but the intense emotions rushing through her… something wasn’t right at all. “Why do you know my name? Why won’t you give me a name for you?”
“I… don’t have a name,” the woman said. “That is why I told you what I am, rather than a name. I am a sojourner. That is… the best I can do.” She held up a hand as Fae opened her mouth to respond. “Please, Fae. This… won’t be easy. But it is necessary. You have suffered a great deal. And you will yet suffer more, but… healing is… possible.”
“Why don’t you sound so sure about that?” Fae asked.
The sojourner bowed her head. “Your circumstance is unprecedented. Toryu and I… we prepared for the possibility, but… we’d hoped it wouldn’t be necessary.”
“You know Toryu…?” Fae asked. And then her eyes widened.
He… he put something around my neck. I can’t feel it, I can’t feel anything, but when he came to me in the Sanctuary, when I was a prisoner…
What did he put around my neck?
“He and I have been friends for a long time,” the sojourner said. A small smile touched her lips, but faded, as if she wasn’t used to the expression. She suddenly looked up, eyes widening a fraction. “Ah. It happened sooner than I’d hoped. Fae… please. Do try to stay calm. There are explanations for everything. And understand… I know you won’t like what has happened. But it was necessary.”
“What are you talking —” Fae started, but then squinted against a sudden glare. The endless darkness around her had suddenly come to light, and she hadn’t realized just how dark it had been.
With the light came voices. The first she heard was Madeline’s, tense and on edge. “What happened to her?” she asked.
“Madeline!” Fae called out. Her eyes were still adjusting to the light so she couldn’t properly see. And she still couldn’t feel a thing.
“What needed to be done,” said Toryu, his sage, gravelly voice tinged with sorrow. “As I’ve tried to explain —”
“She’s awake!” came Mercury’s voice.
Fae’s eyes slowly adjusted, and when she could properly take in the sights…
She was stunned into silence. All her questions died in her throat, and the faint pit of dread within her widened.
I’m…
I’m looking at…
…me.
Fae stood, the sojourner across from her, looking down… at herself.
There was Fae, lying in…
That’s my bed. My bed at… Greyson Manor.
This is my room. I’m… home?
And yet Fae was looking down at herself, standing on air several feet above her inert form. Gathered around her bed were Madeline, Olivia, Sonya, Mercury, Neptune, Jupiter, Toryu, and the masked boy from the Silver Star Sanctuary.
The Fae on the bed had her eyes open, but wasn’t responding to anything anyone said to her. Madeline waved her hands in front of those eyes, and then wheeled on Toryu. “What is this?” she demanded, fury and panic in her eyes.
“Please, give me a chance to explain,” Toryu said.
“Explain this,” Fae said, looking at the sojourner. “Now.”
“Listen to Toryu,” the sojourner said. “The words he says to Madeline are important for you to hear, as well.”
“You saw how she was when you found her,” Toryu said. “Transference fluid was being injected directly into her veins. It had been going on for hours before you arrived, before even I arrived before you. That isn’t at all how such wicked technology is meant to be used. Normally, she should be submerged in it. But having it injected directly into her…” He pointed at the Fae on the bed’s arm, where a small cut still trickled the slightest drops of glowing transference fluid. “It has rewritten her DNA.”
“What does that mean?” Fae asked. “What’s… what’s happened to me? Why am I here, but also there?”
“The Fae you are looking at is a body,” the sojourner said. “A… no. That is the wrong word. A shell. The Fae that you are, up here with me… is your soul.”
“My soul… is separated from my body?”
“Not entirely,” the sojourner said. “It’s just… ah. Please, listen closely.”
Toryu began again. “When I found her, she was already perfectly prepared to be a Vessel for Wasuryu. To prevent that… I activated this.” He tapped the amulet hanging from Fae’s body’s neck.
“The amulet… of the Orphan of the Dawn,” Fae said softly, staring.
“In the amulet,” Toryu said, “was a fragment of the Orphan of the Dawn’s soul. Just that fragment was enough, though. Enough to fill the prepared Vessel and prevent Wasuryu from taking it over.”
“You put someone else in Fae’s body?” Madeline asked, gripping the tortoise-Dragon by the shoulders. “That’s what she, and Olivia, and Sonya have been fighting to escape this entire time! And I got to her before Wasuryu could! I… I saved her… I…” Madeline trailed off, anguish evident in her expression. “Why did you…”
“I’m sorry, I should have explained more clearly,” Toryu said. “Yes, you did save her. And you mustn’t despair in your timing. When I had reached Fae, long before you, her fate was already sealed. I didn’t activate the amulet just to keep Wasuryu out. I did it in the hopes that it would protect Fae.”
“Protect her?” Mercury asked. “From what?”
“From becoming an untethered soul,” Toryu said. “Her body… as it is now, it cannot properly house her soul. This is a Vessel, meant for Wasuryu, but could be used for other souls, if they saw the opportunity. Souls of powerful beings. Dragons, chief amongst them, but not exclusively. The Orphan of the Dawn… even with just a fragment of her soul, that is enough to fill the space, to keep out other intruders. And… though I cannot say for sure… I believe that she will keep Fae’s soul safe and tethered. Wasuryu would have forced her out, and an untethered soul that hasn’t been transferred in some way to a vessel — including as data, as you’ve seen with Wasuryu’s computer system — simply passes on. Fae would have died, never to return to this mortal world. And her body would be the Vessel of a vicious monster.”
Silence reigned. Fae stared down at her body, eyes open but nonresponsive.
“I’m… your Vessel…” she said slowly, her stomach turning. Her own body… that she’d protected for so long…
“It’s not even mine anymore…?” she asked.
“That is… unclear,” the sojourner, the fragment of the Orphan of the Dawn’s soul, said softly. “For the moment, we share it. But…”
“So Fae’s still in there, right?” Mercury asked, kneeling at Fae’s bedside. “Why isn’t she responding to anything? If she wasn’t still breathing she’d look like she was dead.”
“I presume it’s because there are two souls in the same body,” Toryu said. “They… need to come to an agreement.”
Fae turned on the sojourner. “What’s he talking about?” she asked. “An agreement? If you’re so kind, if you’re protecting me from Wasuryu and other vicious forces who would use my body, then just let me have control. Go hide somewhere and let me live normally!”
“I… cannot,” the sojourner said, bowing her head.
“Why not?”
“There are currently only three options for us,” the sojourner said. “I could take complete control. I could do what Wasuryu would do, casting out your soul, and your body would be entirely mine. But that is no option, I refuse it and so would you. There is also the option that afflicted Olivia, where you and I do battle for your body, and you become Sealed, locking away emotion and personality. You will still be in this body, but while I would be in control, it would not… be a pleasant circumstance. Neither of us would want that, either, so that eliminates another choice. So we come to the three choices we actually have. The first… is you accept me. It is very volatile, having two souls share a body. The most peaceful solution is for your soul to assimilate with mine. Both of us, in essence, would cease to exist individually. We would become one new being, a combination of the two.”
“You honestly think —” Fae started, but the sojourner continued.
“The second option is we maintain the status quo. If you do not wish me to have control of your body, I will not fight. Your body will remain as it is, nonresponsive but alive, and we will remain like this, able only to communicate with each other as souls, and no one else. It would not be… permanent. To stay like this too long would see your body start to reject us both, and cease to be a Vessel, but instead a closed off, empty shell. Inert, alive only in a biological sense, with no soul to call its own. This second option could be a useful holding measure, if you wish it, to wait for your friends to find a solution.”
Fae was utterly repulsed by her options so far, but, with dread taking more and more of a hold of her, she asked in a hollow voice, “And the third option?”
“The third option… is that you allow me control,” the sojourner said. “I can move and speak in the physical world through your body. I won’t cast you out, but you will remain like this — always looking at things from the outside. You will be able to communicate with me, and through me could communicate with others, but —”
“Just give me control!” Fae cried, her hands clenched into fists. “It’s my body! Why would I let you take control of it?”
“I am… the more powerful soul,” the sojourner said. “I might perhaps be able to give you some partial control, for brief, temporary periods, but… speech would be beyond you. Most movements would be beyond you. The only way your body moves adequately, if we reject all previous options, as I’m sure you would… is if you allow me control. For now. I must stress the temporal nature of this arrangement. Toryu, your friends, and I as well, seek a solution that is not this. Your body should be yours, Fae. As Toryu has said… this was done to save you, when no other options would suffice. And, we hope, it will be temporary.”
“But you can’t… say for certain…?” Fae asked.
The sojourner shook her head. “I am so sorry. But we will do our utmost, at all times, in all ways, to find a solution. I will not rest, certainly, until you have your body back. That is how it should be, after all.”
“What’s it going to take to get Fae her body back?” Madeline asked. Her eyes glistened with tears, but none fell. “What do we have to do to save her?”
“We must do as you were already planning,” Toryu said. “We must take Fae, and the fragment of the Orphan of the Dawn’s soul, to the Orphan of the Dawn. Follow the map, find our way there, and see what healing can be possible.”
“But you don’t know more than that?” Neptune asked. “Not even a hint of a possibility?”
“This is completely unprecedented,” Toryu said. “I… as I said, this is very wicked magitech. There are precious few instances of Vessels being created at all, and for good reason. Olivia, Sonya, you two are the more likely outcomes of this kind of heinous act — ‘failures,’ Wasuryu would call you, but that failure allowed you to recover from what had been done to you. But Fae… she is a True Vessel. This success will be nearly impossible to undo. Especially with the way it has been done. If she had been submerged, as long as she had not yet had another soul transferred into her body, we could have simply pulled her from the fluid and gotten her out of there. She would be the Fae you know and love. But Wasuryu went too far. Now, Fae… in truth, I do not know how to save her. But not knowing does not mean an impossibility. With the Orphan of the Dawn’s help, we may yet be able to save her. We must trust that a solution will present itself somehow, someway, in this journey.”
“That’s… all we can do?” Madeline asked. Suddenly, her eyes widened. She was wearing Fae’s bag over her shoulder, and she reached into it, pulling forth the candlestick bell. “It saved Olivia, and Sonya. It’ll save her now.”
“That’s the way!” Mercury said, leaping to her feet. She put her hand over Madeline’s, holding the bell together.
“It’s going to take everyone,” Madeline said. The others came in close, until seven hands — the young masked boy joined them as well — held the bell together. Madeline looked at Toryu, and after a moment, he placed his large, scaly hand over the rest. Together, they lifted the bell high, and then swung it down, ringing it with all their might.
Fae’s heart sang. A smile broke out on her face. Light filled the bedroom, and hope exploded within her. This was it! Just like Olivia, just like Sonya, there was always…
…hope…
…
The light faded. The beautiful tone of the bell echoed out, fading.
Fae still stood as a soul looking down at her body.
Nothing had changed.
“Fae?” Madeline asked, leaning in close. Toryu turned away, even as all the others came in to gaze hopefully, expectantly, at Fae’s body.
Fae watched them from above for several moments. Her stomach turned. She clenched her hands into fists, gritted her teeth, fought against the choice she had to make.
But…
“Take over,” she said softly.
“Fae?” the sojourner asked.
“Take over my body,” Fae said. “Don’t you dare take my soul, or cast it out. But… don’t just leave me lying there, unable to say anything. Let me talk to them… even if… even if it’s through you.” Bitterness filled her voice, bitterness she couldn’t fight.
“I… see,” the sojourner said. After a pause, she nodded. “Very well. Tell me what to say, and I will say that exactly. I will do nothing that you do not ask of me.”
The sojourner vanished. And Fae stood alone in the air, the lone soul without a proper body to call its own.
On the bed, her body’s eyes blinked, and the girls and the boy gasped. Madeline broke out in a wide smile, a smile that broke Fae’s heart.
“It’s not me,” she said, and almost instantaneously heard the same words come out of her body’s mouth, out of her own voice down below. There was barely a delay. “I… I’ve let her soul fragment take control. It’s… the only way I can even speak to you guys.”
“What the heck is this?” Madeline asked, eyes wide, tears glistening in them once more. “Toryu! Why can’t Fae speak to us?”
“She is, in a way,” Toryu said.
“Her soul fragment is too powerful,” Fae said, and her body repeated the words. “I… I can’t have control. It’s either I talk through her… or my body doesn’t talk at all.”
“You can’t…” Madeline started, voice trembling. “You can’t be serious.”
“Just… find a way to fix this,” Fae said. “Get my body to the Orphan of the Dawn and figure out how to heal me. I’m counting on you guys, so… don’t screw it up.” She was both frustrated and relieved that the sojourner didn’t reflect her facial expressions on her body, because she was desperately fighting tears.
“We will!” Mercury said, smiling that perfect smile even as tears rolled down her cheeks. “We’ll get you right, don’t you worry. We’ll get you your body back.”
“But where are you?” Madeline asked. “If you’re not… in control of your body, then where…”
Fae understood. “Tell her,” she said softly. “Help her see me.”
“She won’t see you,” the sojourner’s voice replied.
“Please,” Fae said. “Help her to look at me.”
Fae’s body slowly relayed instructions, and Madeline’s gaze tracked up, up, up…
“There,” Fae’s body said. Madeline stopped, and Fae’s voice caught in her throat.
We’re looking right at each other.
“Madeline,” Fae said, knowing she wouldn’t be heard, but hoping all the same.
But Madeline’s eyes went wide, and she suddenly reached out her hand. “Fae!” she cried out, reaching not for Fae’s body, but for the soul that floated above her.
“Madeline…?” Fae asked softly, staring at the outstretched hand. “You can…”
“Yeah,” Madeline said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I see you.”
“You…” Fae started, and then she began to cry, too. Slowly, she reached out her hand. Her fingers touched Madeline’s, and she pressed her palm against hers, even though she didn’t feel it at all. Neither did Madeline, but…
“I’ll get you back,” Madeline said. “It’s your body.”
Fae nodded. Madeline pulled her hand away then, slowly, hesitantly. Slowly, she looked away.
“Sojourner,” Fae said softly. “Can you… you said I could get partial control, temporarily, right?”
“That’s right,” the sojourner said. “It depends on what it’s for, though. If it’s difficult —”
“It’s not,” Fae said. “It’s what my body’s best at.”
A moment later, Fae was in her own body. It felt strange, like she was piloting a machine, rather than back to normal. She couldn’t talk, and the sensation of touch, of feeling again felt so sudden, so shocking, it was hard to get used to. But she managed to get a sketchbook and pencil from her bag thanks to Madeline understanding, and then…
She drew.
She drew fast, frantically, desperate to complete the picture before she ran out of time, before control was given back to the sojourner and she was left floating separately from everyone once more.
As she drew, Madeline placed a hand on her shoulder. Then came Mercury, then Olivia, Neptune, Sonya, Jupiter. Even the masked boy, who no longer wore his mask, his blue eyes so strikingly blue, placed a hand on the hand that held the sketchbook. His skin was so soft, so warm, his touch so gentle and reassuring.
Fae’s soul wept as she drew, though her body seemed to have forgotten how to cry.
And just as she felt her control beginning to wane…
She completed the picture. Freely relinquishing control to the sojourner, she spoke through her as her body handed over the drawing to her friends.
“For hope,” Fae said.
For the thing that’s gotten us this far. For the thing that’s saved us so many times.
For the thing that can save us again.
The drawing was of her, of Fae, smiling. And all around her weren’t just her friends here — the Star sisters, Madeline, Olivia, and Sonya — but the masked boy, and Caleb, Shana, Shias, Delilah, her parents, her grandfather.
The scene was Christmas. Remembering her promise to Shana, to a dreamt-up Shana on the Nightmare Road…
“Do you think you’ll come home for Christmas this year?” Shana asked.
“I always do,” Fae said.
“Yeah, but I mean…” Shana stared at her feet, idly kicking at the snow. “You don’t really come home, if you know what I mean. Like… Fae’s body shows up, but her soul stays behind. You barely talk, you’re all tense and stuff, it’s no fun for anyone.” She suddenly waved her hands, her cheeks turning red. “I mean! I’m sorry! I just!” She sighed, dropping her hands. “That’s just how it seems to me. I don’t mean to be rude or anything.”
Fae stared at her sister and let out a heavy sigh. “I…” she started.
Tears started, then, as Fae thought about so much. Shana came to her, holding her hands, worrying over her.
“Sorry,” Fae said, shaking her head. “I just… I’ll see you again soon. And when I do…
“I’ll really come home for Christmas.”
She still hadn’t made that promise to Shana, not directly. It had only been in a dream. But even so…
I promised you, Shana. Christmas isn’t all that far away now, either.
But I’ll be there.
She kept her eyes fixed on the drawing that her friends held so tightly.
For hope.