Chapter 25: Acceptance
Hearing the weak, ephemeral voice froze Sue in shock, almost toppling them both over. Thankfully, she snapped out of it shortly after, even doubling down on her pace just to find a spot to rest sooner. The sudden shift was rather amusing to the vixen beside her, though she didn’t comment on it—she had to save all the breath she had for walking.
One strained, shambled corner later, Solstice’s tent finally came into view, and with it, somewhere to sit down at.
Neither Sue nor Sundance knew how they’d managed to make it down onto the grass without outright collapsing, but they accomplished it all the same. Their only reward was a scene so dark they could only barely make each other out—aside from the very faint glow emanating from the eyes of everyone gathered, the only source of light was a single fireball on a pole a few dozen yards away.
Above them, uncountable stars and a thin crescent moon. Around them, slightly chilly air of the late spring evening. With them, much pain, much strain, much aching of the still-injured chest-mounted extremity...
And a tiny, ghostly child, understandable at last.
“Hello, Twinkle,” Sue greeted, voice quivering as she calmed her breath, focusing the entirety of her attention on the bundle around her torso. “A-are you okay?”
Just to her side, Spark was getting comfortable on her mom’s lap, valiantly holding back tears of relief at her finally being back. Said mom was focusing harder than she should have in her current state—but if not for her efforts, the confounding mess of thoughts and emotions swirling inside the canvas bag would remain completely incomprehensible. She’d live.
“Y-yes. Confused...” the ghostly voice answered.
As Sue held the bundle of ghost closer, and the bundle of ghost held her back, she realized she couldn’t hear their voice. She could perceive it, she heard it in her mind, but there didn’t seem to be a physical—“Yes, that’s on me,” Sundance cut in. “They aren’t talking like we are, their thoughts are still messy and I’m having to do some interpretation to get the meaning from them.”
On the other hand, Sue heard the barked sounds underlining Sundance’s words clearly. She wasn’t sure how to respond to her revelation, settling on thanking her with a curt nod before refocusing on Twinkle. “It’s okay, it’s okay, sweetie,” she reassured, gently petting the bundle. “Here, lemme unwrap you.”
Sue’s arms shook as she untied the weak knot holding the dirty bag to her body, lil’ one’s ghostly tentacles immediately wrapping themselves around her. The sight made her pause for a bit before reaching to hold the hauntling’s limb with one hand as the other kept freeing them, just to let them know she was still there for them.
And that she would always be, for as long as she could.
Once they were down on her lap, they took a few moments to come to afterwards, but once they did, they only held her closer. “Hey Twinkle. I’m—” Sue paused mid-word, mind tearing itself between the two equally valid answers to that question. Or rather, one truthful answer, and one she wished so very much she could say in the moment, but which still felt both harmful to admit to herself, and impossible to ever accomplish. “I’m Sue. We’re here for you sweetie, everything will be alright.”
While Sue was laser focused on keeping the ghost as happy as she could after what they’d gone through, Sundance... had questions, ones that would hopefully help. She waited until she was sure that the lil’ one had understood Sue’s response—however much of it they could comprehend—before chiming in as well. “Hello there, Twinkle,” she chimed in, keeping her voice slow and calm. “My name is Sundance. You ran into Sue earlier, right?”
The vixen’s words had the ghostly child first shrink at hearing the unfamiliar voice, and then shift focus over to the warm stranger. As simple as the question was, their answer took its time to arrive, making Sundance worry about potentially translating it incorrectly. Eventually, they whimpered,
“Not remember...”
The response concerned both women, Sue’s affection only growing more tender. She wanted to help somehow, but had no idea what to ask, ultimately resigning that task to Sundance. Spark, meanwhile, felt it appropriate to point out the obvious—“But Sue found you earlier, right Sue? And-and-and then she carried you around!”
Her loud tone had Twinkle withdraw some more, but their guardian’s presence helped immensely in maintaining composure. “Spark, sweetie, let’s give them some more space, okay?” Sundance chided with all the gentleness she was capable of. “They’re clearly lost. Now, Twinkle—what do you remember?”
A pair of Sue’s fingers were tenderly holding one of the ghost’s tentacle-like limbs as they shook at the mystic’s question. An overprotective part of her wanted to swoop in and shield them away from any further questioning, to not expose them to any more doubt or worry after everything they had gone through today. But, on the other hand… she knew full well that getting an idea of what they were and needed, and how their shapeless species worked, was an important task, too.
Sundance knows what to do; let’s just leave it to her.
“Remember... Sue,” Twinkle whimpered a short while later. “
Many voices... sleep... two Sue...”
The phrasing had the vixen scrunch her features in confusion as she tried to parse it—only for her student to crack it first. “Solstice came by when I was sitting with them. D-do you mean another person who looked like me, Twinkle?”
A full body, bag-shuffling nod. “
Yes...”
“Do you remember anything prior to that?” the vixen asked.
Sue scrunched her features—it would’ve been so weird if they didn’t remember. She’d spent so much time chatting with Lilly, and then earlier resting beside Joy and Astra; no way Twinkle would just forget—
“N-no good remember. Bad remember...” they answered.
For an instant, Sue was about to hold them even tighter at the implication of them having been in pain throughout that entire period. Sundance cut in right after, though, clarifying it for everyone. “They mean they don’t remember well, Sue. Did anything important happen while you were with Solstice? And for you, Twinkle—could you say what you remember of those poor memories?”
The explanation released the tension from Sue’s body before it could build any further, in the form of a very shaky exhale. The question that followed was one she wasn’t sure how to answer; it sure didn’t feel like she’d done much with them at that specific point. Finding them was important, as was comforting them, then Hazel helping everyone figure out they were a ghost, but anything to do with Solstice?
All I’ve done after that gloomy chat was—
...
Was give them a name.
“Before... everything weird. M-me not here. No thinking... scared, scared scared... nothing...”
Sue was thankfully spared from having to go over the day’s events out loud once more; the vixen’s focus pulling all it needed from the whirlpool of her thoughts. Sundance knew well that she only had a fragmentary picture, but couldn’t help but be sadder at this little ghost—it seemed they had only really woken up once given a name.
“I-I’m so sorry, Twinkle,” Sue whispered. “I promise, you’re safe here; we’re here for you.” Nothing the hauntling had said was reassuring, and every single word made her want to only hold them tighter.
They entirely mirrored that desire, clinging close to her hands and waist as their baggy body shook.
“Sue nice... S-Sue like?”
“Y-yes, of course I like you, sweetie. I’m not going anywhere.”
Such a simple, trivial affirmation, and yet it did wonders for Twinkle. They calmed down as affection kept coming from their large guardian, each word and each stroke melting through all the fear rocking their shapeless body.
“Not know who me... Sue nice... now me Twinkle... thank you...”
“You’re—
*sniff*—you’re very welcome, sweetie.”
The battle with her own tears was one Sue lost almost instantly, but to her relief, there were only a few of them this time, paired with an emotional, shaky smile. As much as Spark didn’t want to leave her mom even for a moment, not now, she dared scoot to the edge of her lap and reach over to provide her own affection with a single shaky paw. Twinkle flinched a bit at the sensation, before finally giving into warm relief.
Goodness, do they need it. Do all of us need it.
Sundance wanted to ask them a couple more questions, but was well aware they could wait until tomorrow. Mirroring her daughter, she reached over with her left arm, pulling the Forest Guardian over to lean on her. Sue said, “Th-thank you—”
*squeak!*
The sound was rather muffled, but both women were familiar enough with it to know exactly who had made it. Before they could even finish turning their heads towards Solstice’s tent, its only other permanent occupant had already parted its entrance open. Said occupant then proceeded to dash towards their little gathering for a few paces, before slowing down to a waddle, and then further into a crawl.
All the emotions happening outside might’ve been enough to wake Comet up, especially without his mom around him, but he was still a tired lil’ Moon Child. One that, after the past couple of days, really needed the happiness his big friend and Sundance were radiating.
Sue scooped him up into her arms before he could even finish crawling over. The lil’ psychic rewarded her with his clumsiest hug yet, as well as a drawn-out gurgle that then turned into a yawn the longer he was held. “Hey, Comet. W-wonder how’d you get out of your cot,” Sue giggled. “Did you wanna chat with us?”
*squeak!*
“Seems so. It’s very late for you, Comet. You shouldn’t be staying up this late,” Sundance commented, smiling widely in her exhaustion.
He might not have understood much of the vixen words, but it was still enough for him to respond with the world’s most ineffectual attempt to shake his little head. The sight drew laughs from Sundance and her student alike—and even Spark once she’d pushed through her own increasing drowsiness to make out what was happening around her.
With a ruffle of his hair—answered with more weak shaking—the Forest Guardian slowly lowered the psychic infant onto her lap, trying to lay him down on the edge of her lap so that his head would rest on a tuft of the vixen’s fur. The instant she’d done so, his uncoordinated arms grabbed the closest source of emotional warmth they could sense, and held it close.
Twinkle’s startle at being held was noticeable to the assorted psychics, but soon eased out after nothing bad kept happening—because nothing bad would happen now. Sue was there for them; others accepted and liked them even with them being... like this. They had a shape; they had a name; they could finally think; they could... be.
Comet was too drowsy to spot the pitch-black tentacles wrapping around him, but he enjoyed the sensation all the same. And so did the lil’ ghost, all the relief and comfort making their own stressed exhaustion all the more apparent.
They must’ve gone through so much...
Neither Sue nor Sundance spoke for a while afterwards, both gently comforting the little ones on their lap as Moonview sank deeper and deeper into the night. It wasn’t getting any darker now, but it was getting colder, making Sue lean further on the vixen—to the latter’s amusement.
Both of them had so much to talk about. They also both needed to catch their breath, chew through what they’d seen, think of what to even say. Before they could finish doing so, though, someone showing up in this remote corner of the village caught their attention first. They weren’t glowing, but the distant light still illuminated just enough of the blue compound eyes and red chitin to let Sue recognize them as the ladybug that had been hostile to her earlier in the day—
And for them to recognize her and, even more importantly, Sundance in return.
Surprise, anger, fear—all of them sudden enough to give Sue whiplash and make Comet mumble in his dreams. None of them acted on beyond the ladybug in question turning around and buzzing away from them in a straight line.
“What’s up with them?” Sue asked, unnerved. Even if the ladybug was one of the least intimidating people in Moonview, she was still weary of having a local be so angry at her.
Root was one thing, a case she compartmentalized enough to not be in paralyzing fear all the time. The asshole badger made sense to be furious, especially now. But Sunrise? All she’d done was grab food from them a couple times and suddenly they were glaring at her like they wanted to eat her.
“Sunrise is a... sad, yet silly situation,” Sundance sighed.
The word ‘silly’ didn’t fit either the vixen’s manner of speaking, nor the insect in question, only catching Sue’s attention more. “How so?”
“They are unable to speak.”
Sue nodded. “Y-yeah, Solstice told me that. Why does that m—”
“They were a hatchling when the plague arrived. Thankfully, they survived, but much of their respiratory system was damaged and left them mute. Unfortunate, however...” Sundance groaned, “they’ve been blaming the night kin for that fact ever since. I suppose it’s a more understandable source of grief than with most others, but prejudiced all the same.”
Sue couldn’t argue with that, cringing at the entire situation. “That’s rough.”
“Indeed. Alas, if nothing else, it is a reminder that suffering doesn’t ennoble us—it only scars us.”
With Sunrise gone, the little corner of Moonview grew quiet again, filled only with the irregular breaths of the three sleeping children and the adults looking after them. It was calm enough to have brought Sue to her own rest, if not for everything on her mind—and good Duck was there a lot on her mind.
Sundance was very aware of that, having gotten a brief glimpse of the underlying murk when Sue hesitated giving her name to Twinkle. It was time to tackle it, at last. “How have
you been, Sue?” the vixen asked, the question deliberately leading. “Much unpleasantness must’ve happened while I was unconscious.”
“That’s... yeah. Though it’s not just that, it’s—” Sue caught herself mid sentence, analyzing the situation.
If there was anyone she could be open about this,
all this with, it was the vixen. Someone with friendly relations, but only that. Someone that wouldn’t be immediately hurt by her revealing what had been eating her up for the good while now. Someone she trusted to be logical about the situation.
And yet, Sue still hesitated.
This all hurts, it all hurts so fucking much to approach, but I know I have to.
For Joy, for Twinkle, for Lilly, for Solstice.
“And for yourself, too.”
Sundance completing her thought would’ve made Sue jump in her seat if not for the weight of two tykes pinning her down. She turned to stare at the darkness where her mentor ought to be, eyes as wide as they could get—and received quiet, woofing laughter in response. “Apologies,” the vixen chuckled, “it is hard to not overhear with just us two and this clearly eating you up so much.”
“It—it is, yeah,” Sue mumbled, looking away in embarrassment, one hand gently stroking Twinkle’s bag as she searched for words to drape her agonizing worries in. None of them made any sense with just the stuff Sundance already knew, forcing her to reveal a bit more of her hand. “Y-you know how I... arrived from a different world entirely?”
Sundance nodded, expression growing serious. “It is still hard to truly grasp.”
“Yeah. A-and I... I have knowledge that I will eventually have to go back there.”
Sue saw the vixen’s dimly glowing eyes turn to look at her, coming together into a surprised expression. “What ‘kind’ of knowledge?”
For a moment, the once-human considered explaining everything to Sundance—the visions, the deities, the torments, physical and mental they had subjected her to. She hoped her mentor would’ve been able to make sense of them, but… there really wasn’t much that any sense could be made of. Her dreams and the gods inside them had explained little concrete so far, and while she already had helped prevent another atrocity from being committed towards the night kin, she still worried that explaining her supposed mission would still undermine the relations between the two villages even further.
And so, Sue just shook her head—what had brought her here wasn’t the point, after all. “I-I can’t elaborate; I’m sorry. B-but it’s not that I’m afraid of coming back, it’s...” she trailed off. Her hand kept dishing affection to the two kids on her lap, the barely visible motions cluing the vixen in. “Joy and—and Twinkle, and Lilly, a-and even Solstice all... I already feel close to them. I r-really care for them, and I think they care for me too, and now that I know I’ll eventually leave them it all feels so awful and I don’t know if I’m hurting them by being close and caring of them if I’m just gonna disappear and leave them alone and betrayed and—”
The steadily growing pain in Sue’s heart forced her to stop. She couldn’t take it, this enormity of the loss awaiting her, awaiting them all. It felt like it was devouring her mind, subsuming each neuron one by one and replacing it with anxious despair with a sprinkling of guilt.
Sundance, however, drew… a different interpretation. “So... death.”
What!?
“No, I wouldn’t be dead,” Sue insisted. “I would just be gone and—”
“I did not mean a literal death, Sue. Merely that, just like death, you... ‘returning to your world’ would be a permanent change that forever separates you from the ones you care for here. One you dread, and which you fear could strike at any moment,” Sundance explained.
Sue was left reeling even after the elaboration, but the more she thought about it, the harder it was to disagree with that comparison. It really would be just like dying. Sure, she as a person would keep on living back on Earth—presumably—but to everyone here, she would as well be dead. A slightly different, but much more familiar frame of mind.
Equally terrifying. “I... I guess.”
Sundance’s soft chuckle relieved some of the tension of the scene, especially as she followed it up with a few pats on the back. Sue really needed them, as hard as that fact was to admit to herself. As if in response to that very thought, the pats were upgraded to one arm wrapping around her shoulders and holding her tight.
...
Yeah, that was in response to my thought, wasn’t it?
As if there was any doubt, the vixen laughed right after, the sound eventually spreading to Sue. The Forest Guardian’s laughter was nervous and somewhat forced, but still helped, even if a bit. “Do I wish I had my pipe with me,” the vixen sighed. “Just the right thing for chewing through conundrums like these.”
Sue considered offering her help for all of a quarter of a second before remembering that she neither had any idea how to find Sundance’s home in the dark, nor a clue about where the vixen even held the pipe in her dwelling.
“I’ll make do, don’t worry Sue.”
On cue, the once-human heard a faint snapping sound behind her and looked around to investigate—only to see a small stick enveloped by an orange shimmer, hovering towards the vixen’s grasp.
And then, Sundance bit a solid half of it off with a single crunch, lit up one end of the remaining piece, and put the other in her mouth as if it was a pretend cigar, switching to telepathy while she chewed through literal wood. “^Does the ‘death’ framing help with these fears?^”
The question reaching Sue’s mind snapped her out of staring at what in the world her mentor was doing, and back to the subject at hand. “I-I’m not sure. I guess it’s a bit like death, but that doesn’t help much. I still worry that I shouldn’t be doing... any of this, like I shouldn’t even be getting to know anyone here because when I leave, they’ll just be suddenly left alone again. Like I just hurt people in the long run when I get close to any of them...”
As genuine as Sue’s words were, she continued to defy her worries by constantly petting the little sleeping ghost on her lap—which didn’t go by the vixen unnoticed. “^And yet, you keep doing it.^”
Sue felt called out, freezing in place. Her heart hammered as if trying to break free, all the shame suddenly returning in force to torment her all at once.
I’m hurting them all I’m hurting them all I’m hurting them all they’re gonna suffer because of—
*snap*
The faint clicking noise instantaneously broke Sue out of her spiraling anxiety, drawing her attention to the barely visible paw in front of her face.
“^I apologize, Sue,^” Sundance whispered, expression having turned serious in the dark. “^Making you feel cornered wasn’t my intent. However, I believe it remains a fair point, but not one you should admonish yourself over—that helps nobody. Instead, I want you to focus and give me an honest answer about why do you
think you keep doing it.^”
The vixen’s sudden gesture might’ve derailed Sue’s train of thought for a moment, but the anxiety from which it had emerged didn’t suddenly disappear. Still, her calm tone helped a lot, giving her pupil something to focus on besides just wailing on herself more and more. That didn’t mean it was
easy thinking about it as opposed to criticizing herself further, but at least it felt possible now.
It didn’t help that Sue couldn’t think of an answer. “I-I don’t know, I—there isn’t a big reason, I don’t think,” she shuddered. “It’s all just been a very spur-of-the-moment thing. Like, Joy ended up with us at the clinic by accident and she wanted comfort and I gave it and we grew closer, a-and Twinkle just... saw me and disguised themselves as Comet and wanted me to find them, and Lilly... felt like she liked me.”
“^She does.^”
“It’s... it’s moment to moment stuff, there isn’t any real plan, just me... being clingy, I guess.”
Even the framing of a more helpful, logical question couldn’t withstand the barrage of Sue’s loathing forever, and it was getting treacherously close to establishing control over her again. On cue, the vixen pulled her in again, holding her that bit more firmly. “^You have done nothing wrong, Sue. I know you
know that too, deep down, but I also know how it helps to have someone else say these words. And so, I repeat: you have done nothing wrong.^”
Again, the reassurances helped greatly, even if it would take a while for the shift to really be noticeable to the Forest Guardian herself. For the time being, she just nodded idly, trying to maintain control over her breathing throughout.
“^In light of that, I have a broader question, if you don’t mind,^” the vixen continued.
Sue idly nodded, eager to talk about anything but this. “G-go ahead.”
“^What do you strive for in life?^”
Everything the vixen had asked previously might have been various degrees of confounding to anxiety-inducing, but this one... Sue had no idea whatsoever. It was one of those questions that she never treated seriously, because in every other circumstance, they either were asked in bad faith, as an excuse to have her join a cult, or like the person asking didn’t really care about what she answered. Neither of these was the case here, and so she had to at least attempt to answer.
Even if all she could think of was ‘none of the above’.
“N-nothing,” Sue shuddered, her answer depressing her further. “There’s nothing I even
could strive for. Basically, my entire life back—back in my world—has taken place without my input. I’ve just been carried by these currents that I couldn’t fight, went along with what people wanted me to do. School, now college, then work, hell even my emotions it feels like sometimes. I-It just feels like there’s nothing I can strive for because there’s nothing I can do to change anything. I’m just... powerless,” she trailed off, her voice little more than a defeated whimper by the end of her explanation.
Sue gathered her thoughts, summing them all up with a grumbled line, the topic bringing forth a mix of anger and resignation—“How the fuck can I strive for anything if there’s bloody nothing I can even do...”
Some concepts were unfamiliar to the vixen, some she’d really want to ask about sometime... but not now. Because no matter what had motivated Sue’s understandable response,
It was incorrect. “^I disagree.^”
The unexpectedly curt, somewhat ambiguous reply snapped Sue out of her preemptive moping and drove her attention to the fox, just in time to see her bite off what remained of her stick and levitate another one over. “D-disagree with what?”
“^You being powerless.^”
I mean... of course you would in a magical, medieval world like this.
Sue rolled her eyes. “Y-yeah, because I know this world isn’t like mine and I could just get up and go wherever I can and all that.”
Her pupil’s exasperation was amusing, enough so to make the vixen laugh quietly, despite Sue’s bad-faith response. “^Could you?^”
Sue didn’t expect to be challenged on that, stammering as she tried to clarify, “I-I mean, not me me, but most others wh-who aren’t hurt could—”
“^Could they?^” Sundance pressed on, smirking. “^They’d still have to uproot significant chunks of, if not their entire lives, for that purpose. Leave Moonview’s safety—unequal as it is—and expose themselves to the dangerous world, without others to fall back on. Even if many who live here would be reasonably safe from predation, that’s hardly the only risk if they were to just get up and venture out into the world.^”
Sue got increasingly annoyed by the vixen’s words. It felt as if Sundance was intentionally missing the point in an uncalled-for, mocking way, so unlike her. No matter how much that freedom might’ve been fleeing here, it was still much more so than most people had back home, and
of course those here had much more of it. “Hard to believe that, since almost everyone in Moonview seems to have come from somewhere else...” she grumbled.
“^Well, you’re obviously not going to meet anyone who has failed at that. Who had left their home, but didn’t make it before finding a safe place.^”
...
That... wasn’t a point Sue had considered before.
The long buried knowledge of her statistics class chimed in just to remark that this kind of error probably had its own name, but she couldn’t remember it on the spot. She was left stunned as she tried to parse the implications of these words, letting Sundance continue. “^Most here had only taken that risk because their home, for one reason or another, had grown to be worse than the risk of braving the world. I can assure you, almost nobody here would ever consider leaving Moonview unless things got
dramatically worse. Your thoughts aren’t exactly subtle about how entrapping you feel your world is, and I doubt ours is
as bad, but they’re not
that different, Sue.^”
Despite Sundance not raising her voice even slightly throughout all that, Sue felt as if she’d gotten schooled hard. A re-affirmation of the vixen’s side hug helped, but she still had no idea how to respond at the moment.
And so, her mentor continued. “^I know how that powerlessness feels. The feeling of being guided through life along a predetermined path, of being a spectator in one’s own life... isn’t a new one to me,^” she explained, her voice somber as she held her pupil that bit closer. “^As pervasive and paralyzing as that sensation is, and as true as it might
sometimes be, it won’t remain so forever. Even if it really doesn’t feel like it, each of us has many small decisions throughout our daily lives that can leave a lasting impact. Doing something nice for a friend. Following one’s curiosity. Helping someone when they’re down.^”
That last possibility made Sue lean in closer to the child on her lap as her touch grew shaky.
“^For the most part, they really are small, and they won’t matter in the grand scheme of things,^” Sundance clarified. “^But sometimes, they will. Sometimes, even an off-handed decision can change someone’s life, for good or ill. It can even change
our lives. These opportunities come all the time, and even if most won’t amount to anything, some will. Be it a small matter that turns out impactful or an ordinary important decision, there are only very few unfortunate souls out there that are
truly powerless. For everyone else, I believe knowing what one strives for is important, so that when an opportunity like that arrives, be it large or not, we know what we
really want and can act on that.^”
Sue remained silent, slowly parsing and comprehending everything the vixen had said, to various results. Sundance, however, wasn’t done yet.
“^I wasn’t referring to deciding on some arbitrary goal earlier or some transcendent concept. Whether we’re aware of it or not, deep down, we all have a longing inside us. Devotion to a deity, a craving to see the world, a sense of duty to someone, even just wanting to be happy. They can all guide us if they’re what we
really want, deep down. Digging into yourself, coming to terms with your subconscious desires, elevating them from our soul’s call to our mind’s command—it’s hard. It’s very hard. And yet, it’s oh-so-important, because if one doesn’t know what they want, what they truly desire... they inevitably end up being swept along someone else’s path. Someone else’s desires. And more often than not…^”
Sundance concluded with a shudder. “^…it will be a path to misery.^”
The longer explanation made more sense in Sue’s mind, but she still wasn’t entirely convinced yet. Much of it wasn’t sitting quite right, but before she could put that disconnect to words, a question from earlier made a reprise. “^So, Sue. What do you
want to do? To be?^”
Sue’s brain tried to wriggle away from that kind of introspection, immediately bringing up the most obvious concern: “Wh-what if I choose wrong?”
“^What then?^” Sundance asked back, the corners of her mouth curling into a smile.
The instant response bluescreened the Forest Guardian’s mind for a moment, leaving her utterly uncertain what to do but to persist in case she was misunderstood. “I-I’m asking you that!”
“^And I’m asking you!^”
Sue was entirely lost now, her confusion bringing the already amused vixen to soft laughter. Still, it was important to address, and that’s what the mystic did.
“^Our desires can be incorrect. They can betray us; they can harm others. Sometimes, the best thing we can do is dig into ourselves and figure out what we desire, and then work on ourselves to change that. But even for that, we need to be aware of what we want before we can work on changing it. Hiding from our desires won’t do us any good, because whether we’re willing to acknowledge them or not, they’re there all the same. They can change, they will change, they
should change—what truly matters is being attuned to their cries. Being able to reach into one’s soul and see what comes out.^”
The follow-up answered the most glaring detail in Sue’s mind, leaving her with no choice but to finally face the vixen’s question once more—“^Again. What do you
want to be, Sue?^”
The words thrashed around in Sue’s head like a rabid animal.
She’d gotten so disconnected from any thoughts of that sort that answering the question felt downright impossible. What she wanted deep down never mattered, never could matter; she had always just been a cog in a machine so large that her getting removed from it would never be noticed by anyone—and yet, she still had to face it all the same. There was one somewhat obvious thread she could see. It wasn’t the entire truth, but it at least was in the right direction.
Suppose I can just go with it for now.
“I-I wanna... I wanna be happy, I think,” Sue admitted, trying to hold back tears.
“^Happy,^” the vixen nodded. “^That’s a good start. Has interacting with those you’ve bonded with so far, with Twinkle and others, made you happy?^”
The answer was the most obvious ‘yes’ in Sue’s life, but framing it like that felt like a downright deceitful oversimplification. “Y-yes, but what about when I’m gone? Won’t I hurt them even more by bonding with them just to disappear afterwards? How hurt will they be when that happens!?”
“^How hurt will
you be?^” Sundance cut in, her words feeling as if an icicle had stabbed Sue’s skull.
She froze, nigh-paralyzed, almost unable to think as she tried to focus on the eventual fate of the one person she hadn’t considered in that worst-case scenario—herself. Her brain almost refused to consider that idea because of how much despair it brought within her.
Despair or not, though... she’d probably be fine in the end. She’d already lost those she loved twice—if needed, she’d endure life taking a third swing at her with a bat full of nails. It’d hurt, hurt so fucking much, but... she’d be fine. She would always be fine.
Even if she obviously wouldn’t be fine. “I-I’ll make it, a-and I guess Lilly and Solstice will too. B-but I’m worried about the k—about Joy and Twinkle. They’ll be heartbroken. They already feel so close to me and I don’t even know for how long I’ll remain here.”
“^Well... that’s already happened, hasn’t it?^” Sundance pointed out. “^They’re already close to you. If you want them to not be in as much pain once you’re gone, you can try to expose them to different people, steer their attachment to someone else.^”
Something deep inside Sue screamed at that thought, which her mind then disguised in a reasonable enough objection. “Th-that doesn’t feel possible w-with how attached and scared T-Twinkle is, and Astra will be leaving Joy with me for a few days now, so I won’t be able to do that.”
“^Why not?^” the vixen pressed the point. “^You can still have them meet other people that would take care of them even if they aren’t truly ready to be cared for by someone else
yet. In the meantime, you can build them up to be more independent and courageous, so that they’ll fare without you better. How does that sound?^”
It was an entirely rhetorical question, and knowingly so.
Sundance felt the despair within Sue the instant she brought up that possibility, and now that she’d elaborated upon it, it only swelled further. She could tell that her pupil obviously wanted the latter—wanted the little ones under her care to be independent and courageous, to be their own people—but the former, the idea of withdrawing away from them and having someone else be their guardian... was heartbreaking. She was well aware.
But it was Sue that had to consciously admit that to herself. “^You don’t want others to look after them instead of you, do you?^” the vixen kept going.
A direct question provided a lifeline that Sue’s despairing mind greedily clung to. Tears flowed freely down her scowling face as she nodded weakly, making Sundance push whichever psychics she had access to and envelop her student in a warm, full-body mental embrace. Sue needed it, but she also needed to be honest with herself. “^You want to be their guardian, now and forever, don’t you?^”
“Yes, but I-I—” Sue whimpered, “—I don’t w-wanna hurt them
—*sniff*—”
“^You haven’t hurt them, Sue,^” Sundance reminded, her voice as firm as it ever got. “^You have likely saved Twinkle’s life, and even from the little I got to see, Joy has soared and been slowly coming out of her shell under your care. I promise you’ve done nothing wrong, Sue. Do you know
when you’ll be returning to your world, if such a thing will happen?^”
“N-no...
*sniff*”
“^Then spend your days with them as if they were your last. Love with your entire heart; encourage them towards courage and independence; do what you can to soften the inevitable blow if you think you might be gone soon. Don’t leave them, don’t distance yourself from them, because they care for you as much as you care for them. You’ve been doing so much good Sue, and even if the worst happens, even if you disappear literally tonight, their lives will still be made so much better for having known you. Besides, we’ll all still be here, ready to console them and pick up the mantle.^”
The reassurance helped, but it could only do so much, and it sure wouldn’t be enough to sweeten all the truth it was delivered with. It only hurt Sue more; it only brought more pain; the torment of a purifying flame forcibly cleansing her mind. The muck in her head wouldn’t go down without a fight, without flailing as it burned.
And the vixen was ready to take it all on.
“B-b-but what about L-Lilly?” Sue’s mind thrashed. “I’ve b-been lying to her b-by—by not telling her, she’d never want a-anything to do with me if—
*sniff*—if she knew I could just disappear—”
“^
Everyone can just disappear, Sue, that’s how life is. Fickle and unpredictable, sometimes it just ends without rhyme or reason, for the dumbest and most tragic of reasons. And yet, we have to live through it. We don’t constantly think about all the ways in which our lives can end at any point, and neither should we.^” Sue wasn’t convinced at her words, almost calming her breathing enough to respond—only for the vixen to butt in. “^Has knowing Lilly and being close with her made you happy?^”
“Y-yes—”
“^Has it made her happy?^”
Despite all the muck going through Sue’s mind, she couldn’t deny being certain of the answer to that. “Yes, b-but—”
“^Do you
want to get closer with her, get to know her more, go beyond that blissful infatuation?^”
“Yes—”
“^Then why not? Why not do what makes both of you happy? Why would you choose not to brighten your days more? I know you’ve said that this ‘return’ isn’t
really death, but it might as well be—and as with any death, you can’t let it take control over you. You have one life to fill with happiness and you’ve been bloody good about that, if I may say so. You’ve brought them all comfort, joy, care, even love. You’ve done so many good things, made so many lives better, and we both
know you want to keep doing that. You can’t let death stop you from living your life.^”
And then, one final blow that brought what remained of the once-human’s composure down. “^You deserve happiness, Sue, and you’ve done nothing wrong.^”
Sue’s slow trickle of tears grew to an all out wailing. She kept trying to think through Sundance’s words, to come up with responses, but it was hard; it was so fucking hard.
Her worst fear had been laid bare for her, her desire to be these poor kids’ guardian, her rapidly blooming crush on Lilly, all forcefully shoved into her face. She’d been running away from all this for so long, from the truth she’d been trying to suppress, but she couldn’t do so forever.
I don’t want to go back.
Even now, with her entire mind brought to a white-hot heat, that still felt so difficult to admit.
And the same went for each of her individual desires that had led up to that conclusion, stripped of any layers of self-deprecation or distance from what she really felt. It was so incredibly hard to overcome the thrashing part of her mind, the demon that always invalidated her desires before they could bloom, whose only purpose was pointing at her worst parts and using them to ‘justify’ why her wants were bad and she ought to feel bad for them.
But this time, she felt like she’d managed that feat, even if for a moment. She’d looked all the way into herself, into her very soul—or rather, was forcibly shoved in there by the vixen beside her—and came face to face with what she desired, stripped of her conscious mind’s negative self-perception.
It felt liberating; it felt terrifying.
Even if she was aware of almost all of her hidden desires now, that still didn’t change the fact that she wasn’t in control and that she could lose them all. Before that realization could drag her into a dark, painful pit, she thought back to what Sundance had said earlier, about these small decisions that could matter, the choices. She tried clinging to them as much as she could, hoping that the desire to never come back would ever amount to anything—even if she knew all too well that it wouldn’t.
Still, she pushed on, shouted the loudest internal ‘LALALA’ of her life to suppress that truth. Hopeless or not, she would persevere, and despite knowing just how powerless she was, she wouldn’t let it stop her from being happy, from being there for those she cared about.
Sue had absolutely no idea whether that resolve would survive until the next morning—or even until her next yawn—but if nothing else, she had something to come back to, a conviction to copy at her darkest moments, however ineffectually. That was all just in case for the future, and now...
Now, Sue was utterly exhausted.
By the time she’d returned to the world around her, she realized her head was buried in Sundance’s shoulder fluff, its warmth contrasting with the surrounding coldness. Her mind was a mess; it’d likely never stop being a mess, but... it was a slightly cleaner mess now. She’d finally dared clean up the pile of dirty dishes that had been left to fester for way too long, and as much as it sucked, at least she knew what color her cupboard was again now.
And just how much she wanted to stay in this wild world where so few things made sense.
“^Hello, Sue.^”
Sundance’s telepathic voice, coming back after what felt like hours, had the Forest Guardian slowly pick herself back up into something approximating a sitting position. One of her arms was still embraced around her, while her other paw rested on the side of Comet’s head, gently stroking it.
Oh shoot, I hope I haven’t woken him up—
“^No, you haven’t,^” the vixen reassured. “^I won’t deny that it required a lot of effort to keep him asleep. Are you feeling better after all this?^”
As soggy, worn down, and utterly, completely drained as Sue felt after everything she’d just been through... yes, she was. She’d still need a good night’s rest to really make that better feeling come through, though. “I-I think so.”
“^Good, good. This... hurts, I’m well aware, but that only makes it more important to face. Or, at least, that’s how I always thought about it.^”
“M-mhm.”
Sundance chuckled at Sue’s mumbled response, lightly patting her on the shoulder. “^Sounds like someone could
really use some rest now, couldn’t she?^”
Sue rolled her eyes, only for the blink that followed to last much longer than she thought it would. Yeah, it was time to—
“Sue?” Solstice’s voice caught both women off guard, Sundance even more so than Sue. They couldn’t see much of the older Forest Guardian in the darkness, but the little they made out painted a picture that was almost as soggy as her pupil. “Are you okay, Sue?”
“I’m—I’m alright...”
The response wasn’t satisfying, but neither of the three were deluded enough to expect anything better by now. One aching step after another, the Mayor had walked over to Sundance’s other side and sat down, sighing in relief once she leaned on her friend. As concerned as everyone gathered was for everyone else, the topic of the entire blasted council meeting was too important not to bring up right away.
“M-many people chimed in after you left, and we’ve figured out a plan for now,” Solstice explained, exhausted. “We undid the banishment decree. We’re also planning to send a bunch of resources—tools, food and such—to Newmoon in a couple of days, m-make that first step as a town. All the builders were pushing for that one.”
Relief from all around, melting even further through whatever composure Sue still had left. “^That’s very good. However, Solstice—what about you? Are you okay?^” Sundance asked.
“I’m...” Solstice trailed off. Sue couldn’t see her shudder, but she
felt it—and together with it, so many sad emotions that were only barely remaining contained under her eyelids. “I’m not doing the best right now...”
The vixen nodded wordlessly, immediately getting to thinking as words were silently exchanged between the two. Sue neither noticed nor cared; she was well aware of how much she needed her rest, but—
...
Joy.
The realization that she still hadn’t picked up the metal girl from her dragon guardian startled Sue all the way to full awareness. She’d totally forgotten in all this chaos, Astra would be lost and Joy so distraught, she’d fucked up she’d fucked up—
“^Need to get a hold of Astra?^” the vixen asked.
Sue answered without looking back at the mystic, eyes straining as they scanned what they could see of the skyline.
“I remember spotting her flying overhead a few minutes ago,” Solstice chimed in. “She must be looking for you, Sue.” Her clarification brought relief, but it only helped so much with Sue having absolutely no idea how she would even catch Astra’s attention.
Right as she was about to descend back into panic, she felt Sundance’s left arm unwrap itself from around her and reach upwards. With a well-practiced flick, the fiery vixen retrieved her wand from the confines of her fur, simultaneously setting its tip ablaze. “^I should have enough in me to still pull that off.^”
“P-pull what—”
Sue saw it before she could even finish asking.
A weak orange shimmer filled the vixen’s eyes as she moved her wand around, as if writing, with tracers of bright red embers weaving through the air a few dozen feet above them in tune with her every flick. Soon, a few symbols in Moonview’s language came together to compose what appeared to be a single word.
And if the high-pitched, reptilian whine that had reached them shortly afterwards was any sign, the burning sign had reached its target.
With a final flick, the mystic undid all her magical writing, returning the surrounding skies back to darkness. None of the three could see much immediately after—not with their eyes needing time to get used to an absence of light again—but they very much heard the flaps of Astra’s wings coming closer and closer, followed by a couple thuds on the nearby grass.
And then, a jovial greeting. “Hey Sue! Sorry it took me so long, I couldn’t find—oh I’m sorry I’ll be quiet now—Mrs. Sundance!”
Despite Astra’s best attempt at keeping herself under control, seeing the vixen be alright again broke clean through her limited composure. If not for there being no room around the mystic, she would’ve crouched and held her tight there and then. Instead, a bit of laughter had to suffice. “^Yes, yes I’m back, Astra,^” Sundance sighed, giggling. “^I’m happy to see you and Joy are alright.^”
“She was excited to be spending the night with Sue. I know she’ll miss me after a couple of days, and I hope I can be back soon, but I’m sure she’ll really love it here. Right, Sue?”
Through the power of sheer willpower, the younger Forest Guardian didn’t let Astra’s words reopen any of her emotional wounds from earlier, keeping herself to the most strenuous nod of her life. “Y-yeah. I-I hope she will.”
The dragon beamed at the small group. “I’m sure of it! Can you take her now, or do you need help with moving her to the bed?”
I don’t think I can even stand up unassisted right now.
“Sue needs a bit of help, Astra,” the Mayor explained.
“Sure, Mrs. Solstice! Want me to help you stand up, Sue?” Astra asked, the question taking Sue aback in how unprepared she and the contents of her lap were for such a task. Thankfully, Solstice soon whisked Comet away, and for Twinkle, she could just tie their bag around her chest again for now. Not the most comfortable solution—probably not even for the lil’ ghost—but good enough for the time being.
From there, it was just a matter of grabbing the dragon’s massive paw, letting her raw strength pull Sue’s comparatively tiny self upright in one motion, then slowly stumbling over to Solstice’s tent. “Thank you so much for agreeing to this, Sue!” the dragon cheered. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but she really likes you and isn’t this comfortable with anyone else. She was much more skittish when I had to leave last time, and now look at her! She even joined up with other kids and played with them for a while after you left earlier. I’ve never seen her do that before!”
Sue was so, so glad it was too dark for Astra to notice the tears flowing down her face. “I-I’m so glad to hear...”
Unfortunately, that didn’t extend to noticing just how wobbly her voice was. “Are you okay, Sue?” the dragon asked.
Shoot.
“I’m... it’s been a long evening,” Sue sighed, trying to blink her tears away.
“I get it! I’ve heard you did something really cool at the council meeting earlier. That must’ve taken a lot outta you!”
Sue giggled in exhaustion. “Y-you could say that...”
“Hope you all get some good rest tonight!”
As weak as Sue felt, she had enough stamina in her to carry the sleeping Joy from the tent’s entrance over to her bed, even if barely. As much as the dragon half-heartedly regretted not being able to give her one last embrace before her next trip, Sue was so incredibly thankful she left instead of awkwardly waiting for her to walk back to send her off.
The moment she sat down on the bed, she just about felt her legs fall off.
It took a couple moments orienting herself and Joy into a comfortable position—or at least what she hoped was a comfortable position in the latter’s case—but she got there, eventually. She laid near one edge of the bed, and most of the toothy girl rested on the pillow, right in front of her face. Firmly outside the flailing range of her front horn.
I hope.
Even with them all laid down, Sue’s mind needed a moment to finish reeling over the sheer totality of what it had experienced today. All the distress, all the relief, so many overwhelming sensations that each would’ve left her completely wiped back on Earth. A gauntlet that she somehow managed to push through, and was so grateful for it.
And now, it was just her, and a pair of kids that had stolen her heart.
Twinkle was already clinging to her; Joy got her one free arm to hold in her sleep; it was time to rest. There just so happened to be an appropriate tune that soon crept to her mind, the coincidence making her giggle. It wasn’t much use with both the kids asleep, but... maybe it could help her.
“
Twinkle, Twinkle, little star,
how I wonder what you are—”
“^None of us are guiltless in this, Solstice.^”
Right as the last of Sue’s brain cells were about to throw in the towel, hearing Sundance’s voice in her mind snapped her back to semi-awareness. It wasn’t aimed at her, and Sue had no idea about how she could even hear it. Either way, she had no choice but to eavesdrop while her conscience kept trying to make her finally doze off.
“^You’ve done bad things, so have we all. We have to push on.^”
“^I thought myself to be above all this, above the Elders’ council. Indeed, I think me leaving resulted in more harm than good. I put my pride above ensuring the council wouldn’t hurt more. I know it was my choice, Solstice, I’m just saying it was a selfish choice.^”
...
“^He’s not. He never was, and never will. Remember your oath, Solstice. To bring peace and healing to
all. Your bond with the Pale Lady is yours, and yours alone. It is your sacred guidance; treat it as such. Cherish it, make it fill you with conviction and resolve, and not with doubt. What Root or Solanum say doesn’t matter, you know better than to treat their word as anything other than the heresy it is.^”
“^You’re welcome.^”
...
“^Yes, I can’t deny that. Sue is like Aurora in many ways, but she’s her own person. I know you know, Solstice, but it’s still worth stressing. I agree, bad things will happen if they remain mixed in your mind. What are you going to do with that fact?^”
...
...
“^Then it sounds like you finally have to bury Aurora, once and for all.^”
♪B♭ E♭ B♭ D. D. E♭—♪
Sue let her hands keep jamming on their autopilot while her awareness came together, one note at a time. The same clearing yet again, where incomprehensible horror and annoying deities lurked alike. Which of these would await her this time, she had no idea.
Only one way to find out, is there?
With one last deep breath, she opened her eyes and brought the music to a stop. She wasn’t even surprised to be playing her mom’s guitar anymore, not with how stubbornly it kept showing up here and just how...
right doing so felt. A bit more annoying than the last time, with her fingers covered with what felt like cheap glue residue, but still manageable. Fittingly, the guitar looked like it had been glued together from hundreds of pieces, similarly stained and dirtied all over. Visibly damaged and repaired, rather dirty and in need of a solid clean-up,
But in one piece again.
Sue couldn’t pay that fact much attention as she scanned her surroundings. To her right, a shadowy figure, just like she’d seen in some of her past dreams. To her left—
Joy and Twinkle sitting beside each other, jamming it out to the now-stopped tunes. She watched them turn towards her; smile and wave as if nothing was amiss. Happy to see her, happy to be with her. And then, they were gone in a blink, together with the shadow on her other side.
I don’t want to think about this. Whoever’s here better show up, so I don’t have to think about this—
For once, Destiny answered her prayers.
Right as Sue’s strained mind was about to connect the sight she’d just witnessed to the very-needed-but-equally-unpleasant discussion from earlier, something moved in the corner of her view. A single, torn sheet of paper, fluttering around as it landed on her mom’s guitar. She had a hunch about what she’d see scribbled on it, and much to her dread,
She was right.
Well done.
“Justice,” she muttered. “What does any of this—” Before she could finish her sentence, another page fluttered down from above. This time, Sue didn’t rest her attention on the piece of paper itself, moving her gaze up instead, towards where it came from.
And there she saw... something.
And It saw her too, discarding the page It held before floating down to in front of her personally.
It was only about the size of her head, with a silver body and yellowish... crown, pointing straight up and to the sides. On each of its tips, plates of pure silver, engraved so intricately they hurt to look at. Behind It, a long cape the color of Its headpiece. Its three eyes stared into her, their gaze seeing deep into the future.
“Might as well.”
Its words were uttered by a choir of a thousand silver voices, with just the slightest feminine slant.
“J-Justice,” Sue whispered as she leaned in a bit.
“Correct, mortal.”
Sue’s eyes narrowed at being referred to like that, but she wasn’t going to waste an opportunity to speak directly to someone so central to the mess she ended up in. “D-did you enter my dream earlier?”
To her further frustration, It rolled Its eyes before floating further away, scanning the surrounding dreamscape.
“Of course I did, mortal.”
She really wasn’t in the mood for this divine horseshit. “Fine, have an actual question—who the fuck did this to me!?”
“I have already answered that.”
Sue faintly recalled the chaotic, golden scribble from a couple of dreams ago, the sight as frustrating for her now as it was back then. “That’s
still not an answer!”
“It is exactly the answer you can perceive.”
“Bullshit—”
“I DO NOT LIE.”
In the blink of an eye, Justice had moved to within an inch of her face, eyes burning with the purest of starlight. Despite their utter flatness earlier, there was a divine fury to these particular words, their sheer might enough to freeze Sue where she sat.
With another blink, it was all over. It was back to where It had been before, floating through the air as if immune to gravity.
It took Sue a few minutes to gather the courage to look away after witnessing that. She was still angry at everything about this, angrier still at being so outmatched even inside her own head, but had to put that aside for now. As much as she wanted to call almost every deity obscenities right now, there was something in particular she now, more than ever, needed to know. “Wh-what happens now with my ‘plan’? Isn’t it done? Moonview is going to give Newmoon aid, th-the night kin are allowed back, Duck and Night Father will get together and all that—what now?”
She dreaded thinking about the answer, but she had to know, for everyone’s sake. If she knew how much time she had left here, she’d be able to act on that knowledge, make amends and say goodbyes, make sure her departure would hurt others the least amount possible. Any attempt to think about that entire topic drove a rusty, serrated knife deeper into her brain, but it had to be done.
And to her dismay, she wouldn’t even get that.
A disjointed noise of a thousand overlapping laughs made her flinch as the deity floated back towards her. Its previous total flatness was replaced with the slightest of smirks, even that tiny change feeling significant and infuriating. Sue was too disoriented and unnerved to even be offended at what It said next.
“Mortals only see what’s right in front of their eyes, do they not.”
And then, It looked up. Sue was unsure about following Its gaze, but found her attention being dragged along against her will.
A full Moon loomed above them, several times larger than it ought to be. It looked profoundly wrong, as if infected and swollen. Massive, oppressively bright, with a light that burned and not mended. It forced Sue to reel and hide behind her arms, growing ever more mighty, ever more vivid, ever more crushing with every moment.
Looming ever closer.
“It will not be...”
The fell Moon’s influence burned everything around her, crushing first the scenery, and then Sue herself, into the ground. All-encompassing, all-destroying, a dominating force with no relief or mercy. It ground at it all, until nothing remained, until all was subsumed.
Until the darkness was no more.
“...that easy.”
