A Lullaby for Gods Chapter 124

THE LAND OF SNOW AND STARS

The Ampora boy was sulking.

The Heir had described him to be childish at times, but the extent as to how childish, Damara Megido of Alternia had not fully grasped until that moment. He refused to eat. He didn’t bother changing into warmer clothes even when they were in a cabin surrounded by snow. He sat by the window with his knees tucked close to him, glaring down at the floor, and growling at anyone who dared come close.

Whatever. If he died here, Damara was sure the Heir would understand it was none of their faults.

The children have long retreated to their quarters to sleep the events of the day off, leaving only her and the Knight of Space – Aeon Nightwalker as he’d introduced himself – sitting by the fireplace. A few ways off from them was Dualscar, staring out into the snow, but he didn’t count when he looked too lost in his thoughts to pay attention to anything other than his rage.

“I see,” Aeon said, after Damara finished recounting to him what had happened prior to their arrival here. Unlike the hotheaded violetblood, this blue-eyed human was a lot quieter with his anger. His shoulders were tense and his mouth was pulled to a thin line, but he merely nodded and frowned at his feet. “So universal decay has advanced to this stage.”

“How much do you know about it?” Damara asked.

“A considerable amount, given my own universe was under threat of it once,” he said. “It’s not a pleasant thing. Truth be told, it’s a problem whose roots still need to be addressed – all measures we have against it are temporary measures, but temporary measures are better than nothing.”

Damara nodded, turning back to the fire burning away in the hearth. “The Heir said they needed to take care of something, stop the universe from collapsing, tie up loose ends,” she said. “They didn’t elaborate much – to me, at least – ” She glanced over to Dualscar. “ – do you have any idea what they meant by it?”

“They said they had plans to fix the decay – or, well, fix it as much as they can, anyway – and until those plans come to fruition, everybody is to wait the storm out. The ones who can’t wait it out in hiding are going to be defended,” he said. “And if the team’s not the ones doing the defending, then they’re probably fighting off unsavory things that fall into the cracks. Not every universe’s horrors are…helpful.”

He sighed.

“When the bombs have stopped dropping, we’ll get a signal from the Full Moon of Derse, and you can reunite with them,” he said.

A god’s job is never done, Damara supposed. At least not the ones who’ve designated themselves as the Heir of Blood’s cosmic clean-up crew. She would never understand their attachment to the possessed little upstart, but far be it from her to mouth off to them when they’ve been nothing but hospitable to her.

“And in the meantime, we’re to hide here?” she asked.

“Until it’s time for you to head to the next destination,” Nightwalker said.

She nodded. “And this Full Moon of Derse,” she said. “What is it, exactly?”

“One of four from a set of royal treasures. It’s a coin,” Nightwalker said. “It’s from the royal vaults of Derse, and each coin from the set has a specific role it fulfills for its holder. The Waning Moon, to heal all ills that befalls oneself – ”

As he quoted, Damara saw Dualscar turn towards him from the corner of her eye.

“The Waxing Moon, to bring forth what the holder desires for most.”

Nightwalker held a hand up, and then snatched at the air with his thumb and forefinger – Damara’s eyes widened as he revealed a silver coin in his hand with a single black moon carved into its face. It was –

“The New Moon, to ward all evil that ails its holder.” He flipped the coin into the air. It never came back down. “And finally, the Full Moon, to bring forth what the holder needs and what its holder wishes to call home.”

He waved a hand. “It’s fanciful wording from Prince Nereus, but in layman’s terms, it’s a glorified homing device.”

“Nereus Ampora?” Dualscar asked.

Damara turned to him, slowly. Sitting adjacent to her, as did Nightwalker.

“Yes,” the Knight said. “Prince Nereus Ampora.”

“I thought he was a Mage,” Damara murmured.

“It was his Skaian title, yes,” Nightwalker said, just as lowly. “But far be it from me to disrespect him.”

Fair enough. They all had their unhealthy attachments to respected figures.

“Were you around for the old man, then?” Dualscar asked.

Nightwalker’s eye twitched. Damara leaned back in her seat and clenched her teeth together to keep herself from snickering in amusement.

“I’ve met His Highness, yes,” the young man said, eyeing Dualscar head to toe. “A far cry from…whatever you are and whichever hole you crawled out of.”

“What is your damage?” Dualscar sat up straight, lowering his feet to the floor as he met Nightwalker’s judgmental stare head-on. “People can’t have off days?”

“If the off days include calling His Highness the old man, perhaps there should be adjustments considered.”

“In case it wasn’t obvious, airsucker, I – ” Dualscar motioned to himself – head to toe just as Nightwalker had judged him. “ – am a seadweller. A violetblood.”

“Congratulations on being able to swim.” Nightwalker simpered. “Mother Nature wasted DNA points giving you legs.”

Damara put a hand to her mouth so her smile, which she was trying to keep a tight rein on, couldn’t be seen.

“She wasted effort giving you a mouth.” Dualscar rose from his seat, snarling at the human. “I can call my own alternate timeline ancestor whatever the fuck I want.”

“Pearls before swine, I am familiar with the concept.” Nightwalker waved him off. “Don’t stop me from whatever flight of fancy you have that you and His Highness can even stand in the same space.”

Dualscar’s eyes narrowed. “Are you calling me – ”

“Inferior? If I took a shovel and dug, I still wouldn’t get to your level,” Nightwalker said.

Dualscar’s hands sparked with Hope energy as he bared his teeth. Damara allowed herself a snort and a silent laugh before motioning to the door.

“If you two are going to duke it out, at least do it outside,” she said. “I don’t want to have to explain to the Bard why we spent most of our hiding in the snow instead of in a cabin.”

Dualscar paused, finds flicking down, before grunting and sitting back down. Nightwalker did nothing, remaining where he was.

“Where the hell are they, anyway?” Dualscar asked. “Right now, I mean. Not some vague ‘they’re off fighting monsters’.”

“I don’t know, they never gave me any specific locations,” Nightwalker said. “It’s just a guess, anyway. The only thing I know for sure is that they plan to do something about the universal decay. The Seer’s been aware that it’s been getting worse for some time now. I suppose he’d spotted something that finally tipped all of them off that it was time.”

“And once they’re done, we’ll just have to wait for that Full Moon thing?”

“You will, yes,” Nightwalker said.

“How?” Damara asked, having composed herself.

“You’ll see it. It’s hard to miss the Full Moon of Derse when she shines, especially unimpeded,” the young man said. “Until then, we’ll stay here and I’ll keep all of you sharp, though I have to warn you that I will have guests at times, as I’ve also been tasked with overseeing communication.”

Damara nodded, having talked to him about this earlier. Dualscar, however, raised an eyebrow.

“With?” he asked.

“The dead – everyone else – ” Nightwalker waved a hand. “The Heir’s been trying to wrangle a whole crowd of people, I’m one outpost for communication.”

“There are others?” Damara asked.

“The Knight of Light, but that’s only for very specific circumstances,” he said.

Damara nodded, brow furrowing as she thought. “You’re both Knights.”

Nightwalker chuckled. “We’re the best there is for protecting people.”

Just as he said that, there was a dull thwump that sounded out in the room, like a muffled air vacuum. Nightwalker stood, unsurprised while Damara and Dualscar watched with curiosity.

“Speak of the devil.” He approached the dumbwaiter in the corner of the room, right beside one of the bookshelves. “The Mage has made sure to set up communication devices for all of us throughout paradox space,” he explained.

Nightwalker slid the dumbwaiter open, revealing a pneumatic tube. Carefully, he retrieved the message capsule from it and fished out the letter inside. He scanned it for a moment, before humming. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but the Knight of Light had been in semi-retirement until recently. I hear he’s been convinced to work with us, even though it’s from afar,” he said, holding the folded letter towards Damara. “Unfortunately, looks like we have an emergency on our hands.”

Damara held out a hand, telekinetically yanking the letter from Nightwalker’s hand to hers for her to read. Dualscar walked over to look at the letter over her shoulder.

“…I suppose this wasn’t in the plan?” she asked.

“Evidently not if the Knight’s sending us a distress message,” Aeon said. “Though I don’t think there’s much we can do about it. Our instructions were to stay here.”

“Are you stupid,” Dualscar said, rounding on him. “Clearly, if the fucking Knight of Light is sending – ”

Damara tuned him out in favor of rereading the message in the folded piece of letter. It was short and to the point, though for the life of her, she couldn’t understand exactly what it meant. Still, maybe after Dualscar tired himself out from yelling, she could let Nightwalker explain the missing context.

The letter in her hands read: ANSHU JAEGER’S SOUL HAS BREACHED CONTAINMENT.

#

JANUARY 20, 2014

NIGHT VALE

“STRIIIIIIIIIIDEEEEEEEER!!!”

Hal turned from his place on the porch and down towards the road. In the light of the setting sun, there were two figures sprinting towards him, both carrying large and clearly heavy bags, but they didn’t seem to mind as they bolted at breakneck speed down the dusty path and towards the Angeles estate.

Jeremiah Miscer vaulted over the fence; Hal suddenly felt that if he could sweat, he would have been sweating buckets right now.

“Hello, Jeremy.”

“Asshole!” Jeremiah half-heartedly swung a fist towards him; Hal easily side-stepped it. “We don’t see you for days and you forget my name, huh?!”

“Hey! Hey, fuckass! Why have you been ignoring my texts!” Leon yelled as he finally got the gate bolt open, dashing towards the porch while Eugene, in a much calmer pace behind him, pushed the gate open all the way for everyone else.

“What texts?” Hal asked.

“I’ve been messaging you for hours. I said to tell us when you got here,” Leon said.

Hal frowned, checking his inbox in another window. It was empty and – oh, nevermind, there it was. Fifty-six new fresh notifications as if something had forgotten to ping him until Leon had mentioned it.

Angeles had told him earlier that the town was…weird about outside communication and news. He’d been sitting out on the porch to get better reception since they were too tired to provide any, just so he could keep an eye on his inbox, but until just now, it’d been bone dry. Whatever news he’d gotten was also strange – either the ‘latest’ news were years in the past or the sites looked completely different, as if the town existed on a reality two steps removed from the rest of the world.

He’d been assured it was normal by Cecil, but still, it was slightly disconcerting to not know what was happening to the rest of the world. It certainly explained why everyone in town was so calm; no one had spoken about any of the weird holes in the sky and the angels when he’d gone around buying supplies to fix up the lights.

“The town’s weird,” he said.

“What?” Leon asked.

“The town’s weird. Check online for the news about New York,” Hal said.

Leon looked at him oddly but took out his phone to do as he was told. Eugene, finally ascending the porch while James ushered the rest of them inside – Hal can see two children, Vriska, Terezi, Kevin, and a whole pack of dogs escorting a single black cat – sighed as Leon typed away at his phone.

“The city does that. We’re kind of a mystery spot,” the boy said. “It’s hard to communicate with the outside world because of it. Don’t get too weirded out.”

“It is not 1921.” Leon waved his phone in front of Eugene’s face. Hal caught a glimpse of the subtitle under the heading: LATEST, JULY 16, 1921. “What the hell.”

“Mystery spot,” Eugene repeated. “Town’s weird. Think of it like one big magic zone where everything fluctuates.”

“Oh,” Jeremiah said, strangely quiet. “That’s why you and Saph are so calm about…magic powers.”

“Helps when you know the Palmers,” Eugene said brightly. “Speaking of which…”

He turned just as Kevin, hair askew and eyes bloodshot, came up beside him. There were dark circles under his eyes, but as he looked around the porch, at the garden, and then into the open door that led to the main hall, his gaze softened with fondness.

“Ceec and Saph inside?” he asked, turning to Hal.

“Cecil’s in the kitchen, I think,” Hal said. “Angeles’ asleep.”

The boy nodded before ducking inside, and then yelling at the top of his lungs, “I’M HOME, LOSERS!”

“Where’s Ruben?” Hal asked, rescanning the group as James closed the gate once the last of the dogs have filed inside. All of them gathered in a circle around the black cat. Good for the little kitty for having a cult. “Something happen?”

“Oh, no, he’s just dropping his stuff off at his house,” Eugene said. “Didn’t want to lug around his shit when his house was on the way here.”

Behind them, there were footsteps thundering on hardwood floor, followed by Kevin’s loud cackle, Cecil’s yelp and then Angeles’ delighted shriek as the three of them reunited. Eugene chuckled as he leaned to the side to get a better look; Hal turned to see the twins and Angeles on the floor in a heap, giggling while still in a hug.

“How’s the town been treating you?” Eugene asked. “It usually doesn’t like interlopers.”

“I think it’s letting me get a pass, for once. I can actually hear its name now,” Hal said, turning to Jeremiah and Leon. “You two?”

Jeremiah nodded. Leon said, “Yeah.”

“I think it understands,” Eugene said. “That, or you were always supposed to find your way here.”

“It does that?” Terezi asked as stepped up behind the others. Vriska and James were still looking at the little circle the dogs have formed around Khoshekh, while the two other kids with them gawked at the smug-looking cat.

“Yeah. Everyone who makes their way into the town and actually gets welcomed either was always supposed to be here, has no other place they’d fit into, or has a reason to be here. Long-distance family, friends, lovers.” He shrugged. “It’s a strange place.”

“Interesting,” she said, and then sniffed. “Your friend’s aristocratic-ness is even more prevalent in person,” she declared at Hal.

“Thanks,” he said. Terezi cackled.

Eugene grinned. “Have you even seen santan flowers?”

“No,” she said, turning to him. “What’re those?”

“Tiny little red flowers I know Angeles’ backyard is filled with,” he said. “My little human nose can’t smell it aside from its weak fragrance, but you like the smell of red, right?”

Hal watched, amused, as Terezi immediately started trying to sniff out where the flowers were while Eugene, snickering, led her around the house and towards the backyard.

“Someone’s been making friends,” he said.

Jeremiah chuckled. “Red’s her favourite color. They don’t have redheads on Alternia, so I can’t blame her for being fascinated – she’s still not entirely convinced Ruben and Eugene don’t dye their hair.”

“Has she tried eating their hair?”

“She’s tried with Eugene, but only because he’s stupid and gave her a strand when she joked about it,” Leon said. “You know how it is when they’re both idiots.”

“Actually, the fact that he grew up in this weirdass town makes so much sense,” Jeremiah said.

Seeming to finally get his curiosity with the dogs and Khoshekh over, James joined the rest of them on the porch, Vriska and the kids behind him. “It’s not that weird,” he said.

Hal raised a hand in greeting. He nodded in acknowledgement.

“You got babysat by Rose Lalonde, your meter for weird is off,” Vriska said beside him, calculating eyes taking in the main hall from the open door.

“James!” Angeles called from inside. “Come in, come in – everyone, come in. Don’t just stand out there in the cold.”

The kids looked the most intimidated by the large house, so Hal stepped aside in a gesture of welcome. Jeremiah and Leon looked around – Jeremiah whistling as he eyed the chandelier, muttering, “How high up is that…?”

James simply took in his surroundings silently, while Vriska’s eyes immediately went to the available doors in the room. Scanning for exits. A habit.

Hal frowned in concern. Dirk did the same thing, a habit that carried on to him. From what little he’d met of Dave, the boy did the same thing too.

“Dinner will be here for the night,” Angeles said, smiling brightly at everyone. “Though I apologize for you having to carry your luggage back to each of your host houses.”

“It’s fine,” James said. “Can we help with anything?”

Cecil shook his head.

“We’ve taken care of it. Tonight’s just for relaxing. It’s been a long trip,” Angeles said. “Please – make yourselves at home.”

They motioned for everyone to set down their bags, leading them to the living room so they could sit. Hal watched as they did so, cheerful and much more energetic now that they were home and have had time to properly rest.

James stood beside him, staying put while everyone followed them out of the main hall.

“Are they okay?” he asked.

“Sick,” Hal said. “Though they had some time to rest earlier.”

“That’s good. They just look…thinner,” he said. “At least since the last time I saw them on the island.” He paused, before turning to Hal. “You?”

“I’m fine,” he said.

The man nodded. He paused again, looking away, before turning right back to Hal.

“What?” Hal asked.

He fell silent once more, ordering his thoughts into something coherent. Then, he pointed to the bracelet Hal was wearing. “What’s that?”

“Christmas gift from Angeles,” Hal said.

James nodded, understanding melting away the confusion in his eyes. “Ah,” he said, then, “You know, you’re very fortunate to have a friend like that.”

“I know,” Hal said. “Though I still wonder how the fuck we even became friends.”

“That’s friendship, alright,” James said, chuckling. “You never know how you ended up being friends until after you’re already friends.”

Hal hummed as he watched the man leave, following the others into the living room to set his own things down. He turned the bracelet around until the ruby adorning it was face-up at him, bright under the chandelier.

How, indeed.

#

THE LAND OF SNOW AND STARS

“Breached containment?” asked Damara as she watched Dualscar fold and unfold the note in his hand, creasing it further and further every time he fidgeted with it.

“There are…special cases in every universe,” Aeon Nightwalker said. “You followed what I said about people whose souls and bodies get displaced, correct?”

She nodded. The man had spent the first few minutes explaining the phenomenon after Dualscar had finally shut up once Damara telekinetically whacked him over the head with a book.

“While the Knight of Light doesn’t participate in the more combative parts of what the team does, he still helps from afar, in his own way. Should there be souls who were displaced and find themselves with unfortunately short lifespans, their afterlife gets rerouted to his dream bubble,” Nightwalker said. “It’s for their own safety. Dream bubbles appear to be a staple for every universe, through one way or another, but they operate withintheir own universe. In layman’s terms, if you die, you can only get your afterlife in your universe, because that’s where your information was filed. You’re unviable for everything else. The only exceptions I’ve seen are if your presence is predestined to interact with other places.”

“So if a soul slips out of their universe and dies in another, then…”

“There’s a good chance they don’t get an afterlife at all,” Nightwalker said. “This doesn’t mean they cease to exist, but it’s an empty existence. An eternity being aware and awake and there being nothing in front of you, behind you, or for you. The universe you died in sees you as a glitch and immediately rejects you from any other outcome.”

“Non-existence sounds less painful.” Damara grimaced.

“Get to the point,” Dualscar said.

“There’s also the possibility that the soul can just snap back to its original body,” Nightwalker said, ignoring him. “But no one’s ever tried to deliberately do it after all observed deaths resulted in, well, getting banished to the shadow realm. After it happened several times, the Heir decided to not risk it and instead give people a surefire afterlife. Miss Anshu Jaeger here is one of these people – from what I’ve been told, her soul’s been displaced from her universe and into the body of a fish.”

Dualscar paused. Damara looked over to him, curious.

He clicked his tongue. “Awfully short lifespan.”

“With the wind and weather rendering it even shorter, yes. Should she have died, the Knight of Light was to receive her,” Nightwalker said. “It appears she did pass, but her soul’s escaped, somehow.”

“You can leave a dream bubble, but it’s difficult navigating from one to another,” Damara said, frowning down at the carpet as she thought. “If Jaeger is out there, she’s going to crack sooner or later.”

“It’s why the Knight of Light contacted me. I’m a liaison for the dead – if anyone can spread the word to keep an eye out for her, it’s me,” Nightwalker said with a sigh. “Though I doubt it will be easy to find her.”

Dualscar, arms crossed from where he was sitting, scoffed. “What’s Jaeger so important for, anyway?”

Nightwalker gave the man a flat look. “She’s a person.”

“And?”

“And, in case you haven’t gotten it through your thick head yet, every single life is priceless. Even yours, as I’m regretful to say,” he said with a huff.

“So nothing special,” Dualscar said. “We’re just looking for someone who decided to take a stroll out of their afterlife?”

Soft footsteps caught Damara’s attention. She turned towards the stairs, where Kankri Vantas, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, headed for the kitchen, hair askew and face exhausted like sleep had eluded him once again. Poor kid.

“That’s not it,” the kid said, and then didn’t elaborate as he went straight to the kitchen.

“What’s not it?” Dualscar asked, turning around so he could look over the back of the couch.

“Jaeger. It’s not that she’s just some kid who got lost somewhere,” Vantas said from the other room. When he returned, he had a glass of water in hand, and he took a sip before speaking again. “There’s a reason why the Heir put so much focus on you and your ilk; why they hid Jake English in Asgard, even. You’re all Hope players – Skaia’s frailest yet strongest aspect wielders. Every single one of you is a devastating gun waiting to be pointed at something, and if the wrong hands happen to be in charge of where you’re aimed at, well…” He made an exploding gesture with his free hand. He took another sip of water. “They have to keep track of you so you don’t…cause liabilities.”

“And Jaeger’s out there doing god knows what,” Damara said.

Nightwalker nodded tersely. “Exactly why we have to find her,” he said. “Though I’m at a loss as to how.”

Dualscar tilted his head, still looking at Kankri, who to his credit didn’t flinch or look away, clearly a child too used to confrontation and staring people down while he talked. “What’s Jaeger’s…magic or whatever?” the older troll eventually asked.

“Sylph,” Kankri said immediately. “Sylph of Hope.”

“Isn’t that a healer class?”

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t sound that bad.”

“On paper. A felt pen can still blind and poison someone when in the right hands,” Kankri said. “And Jaeger’s connected to your dancestor, who’s also a Hope player. That’s a volatile combination.”

“Are they?” Nightwalker asked, raising an eyebrow, intrigue in his tone.

“Can I see it,” Vantas said, quieting. Then, “I’ve been seeing visions about these connections.”

Nightwalker motioned to the empty spot beside Damara. “What do you see, Vantas?”

The boy stared at the space before sighing, taking his glass with him as he moved forward.

“A mess of – of red rope and strings and connections,” Kankri said as he took the offered seat, but made sure to sit pressed close to the arm rest, putting distance between him and everyone else. “I can see things when I look at – ” He turned to Dualscar abruptly. “When I look at you, because of your blood connection to your dancestor.” He traced a finger in the air, gaze far away at something only he could see. “And from him, I can see a lot of other connections, including the Anathema Point. But yeah, since they’re friends, I can see the Sylph from your…dancestor…”

He trailed off. Damara leaned forward slightly.

“Kankri?” she asked.

“There’s something else there,” he said, frowning, then retraced the path his finger had written in the air. “Cronus of Alternia, Eridan of Alternia, Anshu of…” He frowned.

“What is it?” Nightwalker asked.

“Can you get me paper and a pen?” he asked. “Please.”

Nightwalker nodded and stood to did as he was asked. Kankri moved to sit in front of the coffee table instead, and as soon as the Knight of Space returned, he took the pen and began drawing lines onto the paper.

“Orphaner Dualscar,” he said, drawing a line connecting to, “Eridan Ampora,” then from that, another line ending with a dot labelled: “Anshu Jaeger.”

From Jaeger’s name, he drew another line that ended with ???

He paused, and after a minute, once more began to draw. A line diagonally slanted from the ??? label, connecting to: “Heir of Doom.” And then to the other side of the question marks, on the opposite end of the Heir, he drew a line and labelled the end: “Anathema Point.”

“What the fuck is that?” Dualscar asked.

“What would connect to both the Heir of Doom and the Anathema Point?” Damara asked with a deepening frown. Despite the fact that they were essentially time-clones of each other, there was nothing to connect the two of them, especially not with Jaeger in the mix.

“Not that,” Dualscar said, and then tapped the dot that represented Anshu Jaeger, before tracing it to the question marks. “What fucking connection does Anshu Jaeger have to the Heir of Blood?”

Damara and Nightwalker froze.

They turned to him.