Delilah couldn’t sleep.
She’d tossed and turned back and forth for what felt like hours, but sleep wouldn’t come. Finally, she lay back on her bed, staring at the curtained canopy, and let out a huff.
I always struggle with beds I’m not used to.
Every time she stayed the night at a friend’s, or did an overnight event at school or out of town, she’d always struggled to sleep. And while tiring herself out during the day sometimes helped, tonight it didn’t.
She, Alice, Isabelle, Maribelle, and Marcus had spent the entire day cleaning, with only bathroom and brief meal breaks. Of course the Felines, Rabanastre, and Teddy helped, but even so, they had their work cut out for them. The goal had been a total, or near-total at least, restoration of the residential hall they’d come through when they’d returned to Revue Palace. While Delilah and Alice had both been open to sharing a room, when they managed to clean enough rooms for everyone — save Maribelle and Isabelle, who were delighted to share with each other — to have their own, Alice had leapt at the opportunity.
“I want a king-sized bed all to myself!” she’d said, grinning. “I’ve never had that before!”
And so Delilah, exhausted and aching and sore, had gone into her room and collapsed into her bed, thinking sleep would take her instantly.
The bed wasn’t uncomfortable. It was wonderful, in fact. She was very cozy and very comfy. But…
It’s not mine. Not yet.
And with all we have yet to do, when am I going to be able to make it mine? It’ll take at least a week of sleeping in it every single night. That’s not happening for a long time.
The battle for sleep a loss on Delilah’s part, she finally got up, got dressed, and headed out into the hall. Even though she was exhausted and sore and a bit grumpy from that, seeing the results of their work again after being away from it brought a smile to her face.
What had been a ragged, dusty, ruined hall with tilting, crumbling chandeliers, patchy, moldy carpets, and cracked walls and flooring now held the beauty and grandeur it had long ago. Revue’s face had lit up at their success, and she’d even hid away to shed “private tears,” as seeing the hall like this brought her back to how things had once been.
Beautiful, marvelous paintings hung on the walls. They were paintings of stage scenes, or of fantastical renditions of dramatic moments as if they were real, removing the stage and creating the scene in its proper fantastical landscape. Epic battles, daring capers, secret lovers’ trysts, dramatic duels, tragic deaths — they had them all. Now that it was night, the crystal chandeliers were turned low, gleaming with soft purple magical light that lent a cool, relaxing atmosphere to the empty hall. High arched ceilings, long sweeping turns… Delilah felt incredibly small, all alone in such a grand space, but it wasn’t frightening or lonely. If anything, it left her awestruck.
We did this. We fixed this, we made it what it should be.
It’s huge, and I’m so small, but it’s only this beautiful because of me and the others.
And that felt pretty amazing.
Delilah’s room was right next to Alice’s, while Maribelle and Isabelle had the room across the hall from Delilah’s. Those three formed a trio, and then there weren’t any rooms again for another hundred feet back towards the docks, and Marcus took the first of that next trio of rooms. The doors to the girls’ rooms were closed, but Delilah noticed that Marcus’ was open, so she walked over and peered in.
No one was inside. The bed was made but empty.
Where did he go?
Maybe he can’t sleep, either. But he always seems so at ease, so relaxed.
Should she try to find him? For a moment, she hesitated, but then thought it couldn’t do any harm. She’d certainly benefit from hearing his calming voice. Deciding to continue towards the docks, she Summoned all of her Felines, and they walked alongside her. Reginald was on alert — he always was in Revue Palace — for the slightest bit of dust or any painting that was even a millimeter askew, and occasionally darted one way or another to fix or clean something. The other Felines helped at times when the small butler-cat struggled to reach things. They’d worked very hard today, so Delilah had dismissed them to give them rest, but even though it had only been a few hours, they seemed full of energy once more.
But that’s how they are. As time passes, and we train and spend more time together, they don’t just grow stronger. They also recover quicker. Even if they’d been able to manage this much work a year ago — which I don’t think they could — they’d need a full night’s sleep to get their pep back. Maybe more.
Her thoughts, as they often did, turned back to the Library of Solitude.
We were forced to step up to challenges way beyond our training. But as scary and painful as that endeavor was…
I think it kick-started our growth. Not just the Felines, either.
Delilah ducked her head, embarrassed even though she was alone. She struggled to praise or be impressed with herself, no matter how much she accomplished. But…
I shut down after that battle, after thinking I’d failed. It took a long time to recover, a long time to be able to look back on it like this, but…
…I never would have imagined I could have done all of that. And there were battles I fought alone, too, and still…
She smiled as she left the long residential hall behind and entered a glass-roofed atrium.
…I’ve really come a long way.
Just thinking those words made Delilah blush, and she stared at her feet, pulling up her hood and tugging it down to hide her face.
She stood like that for a few moments before she heard a soft sound. Something like… music? She looked up, keeping her hood up but wearing it normally so her eyes weren’t covered. It was much easier to wear a hood up now that her hair was short.
Yes, it was music. Someone was singing, or maybe just humming, softly. A few moments more, and it was clear that it was a man’s voice, a softly resonant tenor. Delilah smiled, and followed the sound of the singing.
She didn’t have to go far. Glass doors opened out from the atrium onto a marble outdoor terrace, surrounded by the views unique to Revue Palace — space, but space like Delilah had never seen it, full of multi-colored nebulae and swirling starry trails, distant glittering stars and strange, luminescent creatures.
On the bench on that terrace sat Marcus. His ring-topped staff rested against his shoulder, and the hood of his Paladin’s coat was up, his long ponytail brought forward to rest against his torso. He was the singer, singing softly, just to himself, so Delilah couldn’t make out the words. But there was a lot in that song — a sense of longing, but also joy. Of sorrow, yet hope. Of loneliness, yet companionship.
Delilah stood for a few moments listening, but then stepped out onto the terrace, making her footsteps a bit louder so her presence was announced without startling Marcus. Earth’s Paladin looked over at her and smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Hello there, Delilah,” he said. “Are you struggling to sleep?”
“Yes,” Delilah said. She took a seat next to Marcus. Reginald sat beside her, while Felix, Nekoma, and Redmond stayed standing — Felix and Redmond at the railing, gazing out at the view, and Nekoma by the door like a bodyguard. “I’m… not good at adjusting to new beds.”
“That’s understandable,” Marcus said. “But while that is unfortunate, it has also brought me the pleasure of your company, so I’m glad.”
Delilah smiled. “What was that song? It was wonderful, even though I could only hear a little bit.”
“Oh, it’s something from the old days.” Marcus gazed out at the endless celestial sky, a faraway look in his eyes. “An anthem of sorts for my people.”
Delilah waited, but Marcus said no more, and she didn’t pry. Though she was overflowing with curiosity, she certainly couldn’t fault Marcus if he didn’t want to talk about his past. Knowing that he was the last of his people, and what tragedy had befallen them right before his eyes…
I don’t think I’d be anywhere near as calm and kind as Marcus if I’d been through all that.
“You’ve had many thoughts on your mind,” Marcus finally said. “Not that that’s a surprise, mind you. Ever since I met you, I always thought you to be a very deep thinker. It’s a rare quality in children — but excuse me, you aren’t a child anymore.”
“No, I am,” Delilah said. “It’s okay. I know… a lot of people my age are sensitive about being called young. But I’m well aware of how young I am.” She smiled. “And I know you didn’t mean anything bad by it.”
“Certainly not,” Marcus said. “In truth, I find being around the young invigorating. You, Alice, Isabelle… it’s been truly wonderful traveling with you girls.”
For a little while, Delilah and Marcus just sat in that pleasant atmosphere. But slowly Delilah turned back to where Marcus had been heading before. “I… do have a lot on my mind,” she said. “One thing: the Paladins from the Astral Wall. Hayden, Botan, and Camellia. They were injured.”
“Indeed,” Marcus said.
“And yet… they have to have been seen by Healers, right?” Delilah asked. “Healing Magic… it can heal all sorts of wounds and injuries like those completely. Maybe they left when they were well enough to move around again, but…”
“But you don’t think so.”
Delilah shook her head. “I think… well… they fought the Lingering Will. And they said magic couldn’t touch him, or any powers they had to command… and the way he devastated them with so much ease…”
“You believe their wounds are wounds that Healing Magic cannot fully heal.”
Delilah nodded. “And that’s… terrifying. He really is overpowering. How do we even stop him?”
“We have not yet even seen the Lingering Will,” Marcus said. “We only have the trio’s report to go off of. Even so… it is like Irielle said. We will not be able to fight him.”
“I don’t understand any of this. He’s… an Intangible, right?”
“The Lingering Will is the Intangible, yes,” Marcus said. “But it is an Intangible that cannot manifest in our world without someone’s powerful will to latch onto. Gioracchi’s undying lust for power is what allows the Lingering Will to manifest. In so doing, it has taken on characteristics of the will that allowed it to manifest — in a way, it has kept part of Gioracchi alive in this world, though only the worst part of him. It is not the man himself, but it does contain a vestige of him. It and the man are inextricably linked — though the man is dead, his wickedness is able to live on.”
“What will it take to stop it? To stop him? I don’t… if fourteen Paladins are nothing to it, then…”
“Then we cannot prevail by force,” Marcus said. “That does not mean the Lingering Will is untouchable or unstoppable. It is why we are seeking to find Terevalde and the Author, yes? They knew Gioracchi, and may have some insight as to how to quell the malevolence that allowed the Lingering Will to manifest.”
“These Intangibles… what are they? Why does Shana have the Dreamer’s Heart? Why has Fae —” the name made Delilah’s voice catch in her throat for a moment, “had to be involved with so many?”
“Intangibles have one unifying name to classify them, but that is all that they share in common — their intangibility. Some are mysterious forces from the Void, like the Lingering Will, needing something from our world to latch onto in order to manifest. Some are things, characteristics, that reside inside a person — the Dreamer’s Heart, for instance, or Child’s Innocence. Both of those are wonderful things, benevolent forces that are a part of our world and seek to help Light and goodness flourish. There are so many others, but I think you begin to understand.”
“Yes, I think so. So then Collapse… what kind of Intangible was that?”
“Like the Lingering Will, Collapse existed in the Void,” Marcus said, his expression grave. “It called out from the Void, able to communicate with our world, and… well, first, it was able to manifest parts of itself for a brief time in individuals. A sickening, corrupted version of things like the Dreamer’s Heart, it manifested as the sickness known as Collapse, consuming hearts and souls at the deepest point of despair and trying to use them to give it more of a foothold in our world. It is not dissimilar from the Lingering Will in that respect, only it is far hungrier and destructive. When it took hold of the Nightmare Queen, that was a grievous blow.”
“So it’s a good thing Fae destroyed it,” Delilah said.
“Fae did not destroy it,” Marcus said. “The followers of Collapse built a vessel to house it in this world. Fae and her friends destroyed that vessel, but that only banished Collapse back to the Void. It cannot be destroyed, only locked out of our world. And it will return, eons from now, lest we remain vigilant. I… have meant to speak with Fae about this. But she has… not been in the right state.”
Delilah bowed her head, tears stinging her eyes. She’d failed to talk to Fae, too, and it still weighed heavily upon her.
Fae… please…
Get better soon.
“Vigilance…” Marcus said softly. “Yes. That is something we all must take heed to embody. The wells of Darkness that Hayden and his team were extinguishing are not too dissimilar from Collapse, only they can manifest in this world much more easily. They sprout in places far enough from prying eyes to take hold and grow undetected, but also close enough to the Darkness in people’s hearts to feed off of it, to grow from it. It is people who give life and power to the Darkness. It needs us. The thing that we continually fail to understand is… we do not need it. Until we recognize that — every last mortal in this vast world — until we can truly live that out, Darkness will continue to sprout, continue to fester, continue to have its little victories in this great struggle.”
“But what about the Endless Night?” Delilah asked. “The Key of the World… it can stop that, stop the spread of Darkness. Aren’t the wells the same? When we turn the Key of the World, it’ll stop all of this.”
Marcus shook his head. “Oh, no, Delilah. It is imperative that we prevent the Endless Night, of course. But Darkness does not end with Sal’s defeat and the Night prevented. Sal is not the lord of all Darkness, only the Lord of Night. That is an important distinction. Darkness… it does not have one singular lord and master. It exists in all of us, and in all our worlds, as you saw in the well beneath Grimoire. Even the Key of the World will not be able to destroy all Darkness everywhere — that will not happen until the ending of the age, when Light finally fills every corner of this world and banishes the Darkness to a separate realm, from whence it can never escape.”
“Then… we can’t…” Delilah started, but then shook her head. “Vigilance. That’s what you said. It’s not a hopeless fight. It just isn’t one that will end in our lifetimes. But if we’re vigilant, and we make sure people resist the Darkness and follow the Light, then the Darkness can’t get a strong foothold, right? We won’t see another Sal, another Endless Night.”
Marcus smiled. “That’s the idea,” he said. “Though that has always been the idea for all Paladins, and Sal was still able to exist. We must learn from this failure, if we are to prevent another Sal. Ah, but…” he chuckled, “let us not get ahead of ourselves. We must stop Sal first, and prevent the Endless Night.”
“But it’s important to look to what comes after,” Delilah said. She’d read enough of history to know that victory wasn’t really the end of a war. What people did in the aftermath, how people changed — or didn’t change — in response to victory, in response to all that the previous war cost…
It mattered more than anything.
“You truly are taking to your new role,” Marcus said, smiling at her. “A Paladin in the truest sense.” He sat back, gazing out at the celestial expanse. “Delilah Greyson… I am truly glad that I met you. All of you, of course — I never would have met you if I hadn’t been friends with your parents — but even so. I saw something special in you when we first met. But I never would have imagined you’d become who you are now.”
By the time Marcus was finished speaking, Delilah was hiding in her hood again, staring at her lap, face hot with embarrassment. But that wasn’t all that was in her heart.
Her heart was swelling with pride, the pride of knowing that she’d done really well. And the hope, the relief, of knowing that all of her struggles, all of her tears, hadn’t been for nothing.
They remained on that terrace for a while longer. Eventually, Delilah found herself drifting off, sleep beckoning to her, and she stood. “You’ll get some sleep too, won’t you, Marcus?” she asked.
“Oh, yes,” Marcus said with a small smile. “You go on ahead, Delilah.”
Delilah wished him goodnight and left with her Felines. As she got farther away, she heard him start to sing softly, the same song she’d heard when she’d come to find him.
That song stayed with her as she went to bed, its echoes serving as a lullaby. Not long after her head hit the pillow, she fell fast asleep.