Fae took several long, deep breaths.
It felt strange. She was a soul without a body to call her own. Breathing… that shouldn’t be something she needed to do anymore. And yet…
“It’s a mental anchor,” Toryu explained. He was at Fae’s bedside at all times, watching over her and helping her through things.
For hope.
Those two words continued to ring in Fae’s mind. She repeated them, over and over. They were a precious treasure, the anchor for her heart, and if she were ever to let them go or forget them, she feared she’d lose herself completely.
Because frustration, fear, anger, disgust, and so many other emotions were raw and powerful within her. Her body was no longer her own. The fate she’d desperately fought to avoid… the fate she’d saved Olivia and Sonya from… that was now her reality. She took some solace in the fact that the soul within her body was not Wasuryu, but even so…
This is wrong.
They weren’t just her words. Toryu had said it. The sojourner, the fragment of the Orphan of the Dawn’s soul, had said it. This was not how things were supposed to be.
But it was the only way to save Fae. The only way to keep her out of Wasuryu’s clutches, and the only way to keep her alive.
For hope.
“The greatest challenge will come when your body begins to move,” Toryu said. “That’s why we take as much time as we can spare like this. You’ll never be fully used to it, but if all goes well, you won’t have to.”
Every “if” that accompanied talks of Fae’s healing pierced her heart. The lack of certainty was terrifying.
For hope.
“You may still be able to gain some control,” Toryu said, “like when you drew the picture. But do not count on that being a frequent occurrence.”
“I already know,” Fae said, through the sojourner, who echoed those words through her body. “You’ve both told me multiple times.”
Toryu chuckled, puffing on his pipe a few times. Whatever he smoked, it certainly wasn’t tobacco. It was more like incense, Fae thought. She’d noticed it in the Silver Star Sanctuary, and she missed that smell now — like roasting apples and cinnamon. That’s what she remembered.
Smells are just memories now.
“How soon can we leave?” Fae asked.
Toryu sighed, stroking his mustache. “We can leave whenever you wish. However… getting you accustomed to your current state will help ease the journey. It is no simple thing, reaching the Orphan of the Dawn. Princess Annabelle has been kind enough to offer her powers, but she and Shana seem prepared to leave on their own journey soon, so our window on that may well be closing. However, being in Grimoire does help. We have easy access to the Cartographer’s Waystation. Reaching our first destination won’t be too difficult. You remember what it is, don’t you?”
“The Watcher of Solace,” Fae said. She didn’t ask why Toryu tested her. He’d already explained earlier, and that explanation had shaken her to her core: “Being untethered from your body also means being untethered from your mind. Memories are also a part of the soul, but in your current state… you may struggle to recall them clearly.”
I won’t forget anything. Even like this…
I’ll still pull my weight. I won’t just be cargo for everyone else to drag along.
A knock came at the door, and a moment later Mercury came in. The brief time that the bedroom door was opened let Fae hear all the activity happening in the rest of the manor, while she was stuck in her bedroom.
“Your sister’s funny,” Mercury said, chuckling. “The littlest one. Delilah, right?” Fae answered affirmatively. “She keeps coming up to your door and staring at it… and then walking away whenever anyone else comes close. I asked her if she wanted to see you, but she just rushed away, like she was embarrassed or something.” She sighed, stretching her arms overhead. “Anyway, just wanted to see how you’re doing. I love meeting everyone and all the fun that’s happening, but…” Her smiled faded slightly, and there was a faraway look in her eyes. “We’ve got a long way to go.”
“I want to go as soon as everyone’s ready,” Fae said.
Toryu raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Mercury nodded. “You got it. Everyone’s here, and I’m getting the feeling they’re ready to get going, too. No one else has left, either, so we should be able to get Annabelle’s help.” Her smile returned. “I’m excited. She can send us anywhere in the universe! Well, almost anywhere. She said the Watcher of Solace is ‘easy’, so that’s all I need to hear.”
Fae wished she could smile. She could, but her body…
The sojourner could carry out speech and movements, but facial expressions seemed incredibly complex to her. She struggled with them, so Fae didn’t ask her to perform any.
Mercury’s attitude is infectious. I thought she was annoying at first, overbearing, but…
“Star.” Her last name is so fitting. She shines so brightly.
“We need to try moving, first,” Fae said. “Right?”
Toryu nodded. “Just standing, taking a few steps, should be enough for you to understand what you’re dealing with,” he said. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“We’re here to help,” Mercury said, standing attentively at Fae’s bedside.
The sojourner appeared to Fae — she didn’t always appear in a visible form, but she did now — and stared at her. “Whenever you’re ready,” she said.
“Go ahead,” Fae said. “I don’t… want to have to give you exact directions all the time, but if you need them…”
“I should be able to manage,” the sojourner said. “But please let me know of any discomfort you face, and I will do my best to ease it.”
Discomfort? Just being like this is endless discomfort.
“Do it,” Fae said.
Fae’s body sat up, slowly and carefully, and Fae’s soul shuddered. She felt vertigo, a strange sense of displacement, but it vanished as soon as her body was sitting up straight, not moving.
A moment later, her body moved again, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and planting her feet on the floor. Again, Fae felt dizzy, light-headed, sick to her stomach.
Can I pass out if I’m just a soul?
Can I throw up if I’m just a soul?
Another pause, and Fae felt normal — or as normal as she could in her current state — again. But then her body stood.
“Untethered” is so not the right word for my soul.
Because she was pulled along with her body, feeling like heavy cables were tied to her wrists and ankles, dragging her like a doll with her body’s movement. She couldn’t fly about freely, she wasn’t some ghost who could phase through walls and wander the halls.
No, she was stuck with her body. Stuck to a body she couldn’t use.
“Fae?” Mercury asked. Fae’s body was standing, but wasn’t moving.
“Just go,” Fae said, her words only for the sojourner. “Walk around a bit, get me used to it.”
“It’s possible you won’t become used to it at all,” the sojourner said. “Please be aware of that.”
“I get it already, so just walk.” Fae winced at her own snappy tone, but every time she conversed with the sojourner, she struggled to hold back her negative feelings.
It’s not her fault. If you look at it from a logical standpoint, she saved my life.
But…
I didn’t agree to it. No one even asked.
And now she’s piloting my body, and every single move she takes makes my stomach do flips.
She gritted her teeth and struggled not to shut her eyes as her body started walking around the room, Fae getting dragged along with it. She tried to adjust her soul’s “flight” or whatever she should call it, but she had no control. She could look around freely, but she couldn’t move around freely. She was anchored to a single spot at all times, except when she got brief, partial control of her body.
This is what it is. This is the burden you’ve got to bear for the journey.
So bear with it. Don’t make everyone wait while you struggle just to take a single step.
It was hard, as Fae shuddered and tried to take proper breaths while her body kept walking, but she focused her mind back on the words.
For hope.
And that hoped-for day isn’t going to come, not ever, if you don’t move forward.
It’s your body. Don’t let it bring you grief and discomfort. It’s moving, because that’s what it’s supposed to do.
She remembered, then, the way Olivia had acted when she’d first saved her from Wasuryu, during their escape through the Dragon’s city.
“This is my power.”
Every time she brought out her scythe, every time she formed those portals of hers, she repeated that.
It… really doesn’t feel like my body, right now. But…
It is. And one day, I’ll be able to be in it properly again.
And for now…
Fae’s stomach did flips, but she refused to be sick. She refused to pass out. Willpower wasn’t everything, but she thought, since she was a soul and nothing else right now, maybe willpower was more than enough.
In any case, it’s all I have right now.
A few laps around the spacious bedroom, and Fae’s body came to a stop before Mercury and Toryu.
“Well?” Mercury asked.
“We’re good to go,” Fae said, without missing a beat, and without betraying her discomfort and queasiness in her own voice. The sojourner might not understand those tones, and she certainly wouldn’t perfectly match Fae’s own tone and inflections — the voice that echoed Fae’s words sounded strangely monotone to her — but she didn’t want to let on to anyone, even herself, that she wasn’t fully comfortable with what she was going to have to do.
I don’t want to delay. Especially because…
I can’t sleep.
It was strange. She distinctly remembered being in a sleep-like state before meeting the sojourner and being told of her predicament. But ever since then, despite how much time had passed, she couldn’t sleep. The sojourner had said, and Toryu concurred, that her sleep-like state at the beginning was a part of her adjusting to her new condition. The body needed to sleep. The mind needed to sleep. But the soul? The soul was always awake.
That had meant an entire night in Greyson Manor with her body asleep, with her friends and family asleep in the rest of the house, with Toryu dozing by her bedside…
And Fae was wide awake. Alone.
She hadn’t actually been alone. The sojourner was there, was always there, but…
I always loved being alone. I think… I still do.
But…
Last night was…
She struggled to find words for it. She’d been afraid, and bitter, and exhausted, and confused, her heart wracked with anguish. She’d felt raw, hyper-sensitive, and the slightest sound from the sojourner had been enough to set her off, so the sojourner had gone completely silent, as if she wasn’t there at all.
While Fae stayed awake, unable to do anything except think, and watch, and listen.
I don’t ever want to have another night in this state again. I don’t know if we can reach the Orphan of the Dawn in a single day, but…
We have to try.
There were other complications, too. Normally, she showered every night before bed, among several other personal routines. She took personal hygiene very seriously, but now…
She couldn’t bear to even think of doing those things. Though her body must be suffering, to have someone else shower for her, to brush her teeth for her, to change into clean clothes, to do everything else she normally needed to do…
It felt horrifically invasive. She couldn’t even bear the thought of it. Thankfully, the sojourner hadn’t asked, and neither had anyone else. Madeline had given her a look, once, last night before she’d left, that showed she knew. She knew what was going on, and she understood.
This cannot continue.
Mercury excitedly called for everyone else, and their group assembled. Neptune and Jupiter. Olivia and Sonya. Madeline. And the boy, now wearing his mask on the side of his head, revealing striking silvery-blue eyes. His name was Ciel, and he was very attached to Madeline.
None of them — the Star sisters and Ciel — had said a word about the state of their memories. Fae had been caught up on the general series of events that had taken place within the Silver Star Sanctuary, the general concept that those four were missing memories and had tried to recover them. But no one spoke about whether they’d recovered all of their memories or not. Mercury kept on smiling. Jupiter kept on being an energetic goof, drumming out random rhythms on her legs. Neptune was slightly more emotive than usual, smiling more often. Ciel simply smiled and said, “I remember.”
Which tells me a lot about the answer.
But Fae didn’t push. She understood, and she was grateful to her friends for their consideration.
They’re always so kind to me. Too kind.
What did I do to deserve them? The Star sisters… in reality, we only met, what, a month ago? Not quite two months, but it’s getting close to it.
It feels like so much longer, but even so… they’ve stuck with me through all of this.
I don’t…
But Fae shut off that line of reasoning. She knew what Mercury would say. She knew what all of them would say.
“Annabelle says she’s ready when we are,” Madeline said.
“Let’s go,” Fae said, and the sojourner echoed it to the group.
As they walked, as Fae fought with her own fitful discomfort, she marveled at all those with her.
It was just me and the Star sisters at first. Then Madeline joined us. We saved Olivia, and then Sonya…
And now we’ve added Toryu and Ciel.
Our group’s gotten so big. Come to think of it…
She marveled for a moment at a sudden realization.
Caleb has Chelsea, Addie, and sometimes Mister Midnight, Ingrid, and Mineria.
Shana and Shias have each other, and Kathryn, Rae, and Ben. And they have Annabelle now, too.
From what I hear, Delilah has Alice, Isabelle, Maribelle, and Marcus.
And I…
When did I end up with the largest group of all?
She could trace the sequence of events well enough. That wasn’t the question. She just couldn’t understand…
Why?
But right now — especially right now — she was grateful. As uncomfortable and awkward and even annoying as it sometimes was being constantly surrounded by people…
I don’t… I don’t not want to be surrounded by them.
When… did that happen?
Fae’s thoughts helped anchor her, deep breaths helped anchor her, amidst the discomfort of being dragged along by her body. Downstairs, she was stunned at the presence of her entire family, and so many friends. It was a hugely full house, the likes of which Fae hadn’t seen since she was in high school and still lived in Greyson Manor, and even then, it was a rare occurrence.
She saw, then, for the first time since before she’d left home on her journey to the Enchanted Dominion…
Mom. Dad.
There were her parents, at the front of the crowd, gazing at her with hope, with love, with confusion, with frustration, with so many emotions that Fae felt within herself at the same time.
And Fae found herself unable to speak.
So many times in this journey, I’ve thought about them, I’ve wondered about so much, and now…
Now that I’m home and actually see them, I can’t…
“Fae?” the sojourner asked.
“Shut up,” Fae said softly, bitterly. “Just… don’t say anything.”
Please.
I can’t… not like this…
Annabelle was explaining her ability to Fae’s group. Mercury and Neptune listened closely, while Madeline spoke softly with Fae’s family for a bit. Nods and emotion-filled looks went around. When they looked at Fae again…
They didn’t say anything. But their faces said it all.
After fighting it for so long, Fae squeezed her eyes shut.
I can’t stand it. Being just a soul, just a ghost, watching but unable to — !
I’m… I’m so sorry.
There was a strange sensation. Annabelle was telling Fae’s group to “give into it.” The others were saying goodbye, and Fae opened her mouth to speak, but…
In the end, she said nothing. A moment later, she was hurtling through space, keeping her eyes squeezed shut at the vicious, spinning disorientation.
When it stopped, she opened her eyes.
She wasn’t at home anymore.
And…
I don’t want to be.
Not until…
…my body is my own again.