Chapter 33: Ghosts
redspah
the gay agenda
- Pronouns
- she/her
Chapter 33: Ghosts
Willow stared at Sue as the question washed over them, confusing yet clear in equal measure. They glanced away from her, expression twisting into an uncomfortable grimace as they tried to interpret it in some other way. No obvious alternatives presented themselves, but the medic wouldn’t let that get to them—Sue had to have meant something else, right? Of course she had to; there was no way she’d just barge in with a topic this heavy.
Or, at least, that’s what their uncertain mind clung onto as an excuse. “What ‘why’, Sue?” they asked, forcefully putting on a soft, tired smile. “Not sure you mean.”
To their dismay, Sue wouldn’t let them have said excuse for long. “Why are you supporting Root and his plans?” she clarified, trying her hardest to keep her voice from getting too accusative. She was confused, she was disappointed, and she was even angry to an extent, but that wasn’t something she wanted Willow to see. Despite everything, she trusted them to engage with her as an equal, to have reasons for their actions that went beyond simple bigotry.
They had to have been different. Right?
And, fortunately for them both, the chubby medic had their reasons. They weren’t comfortable thinking about them even at the best of times, and the distraction of Joy’s adorable, confused self could only help so much, but they didn’t run or mouth her off for daring to ask. Their paws tapped on the rough wood of the table—or on each other—as their gaze jumped all over the place, until finally hiding behind their eyelids. There, Willow had an answer, something to get Sue off their case. Hopefully. “Not me place to question forefather faith.”
Sue narrowed her eyes. “But this isn’t just their faith, right? As far as I understand it, D—the Pale Lady has been worshiped in this wider area for a long time, and that hasn’t changed. It’s not like Solstice is championing to demolish her altar. Or, say, banish all her worshipers from Moonview,” she snarkily added—and cursed herself for doing so immediately afterwards.
To her relief, Willow didn’t burst into anger at her jab, focusing on arguing her point instead. “Solstice still pressure our faith. But when she come, siblings still alive.”
She lifted her eyebrow at their point, wondering what their siblings had to do with anything. They were their own person, and if maintaining the unbroken sanctity of their ancestral bigotry was such a priority for them, they would’ve been devoted to that cause from the get go. Even beyond that, their assertion still left room to be argued against.
At least, so Sue thought.
She had much less confidence about her idea than she wished she had, forcing her to take her piercing gaze off the medic to focus. Before she could get too far into it, though, she felt a tug on her arm. Joy was staring back at her, confused and uneasy at the chat going on around her.
No easy way out of this, I’m afraid.
Sue pointed back at the rest of the group, trying to suggest Joy go there instead, but the girl steadfastly refused. She was uncomfortable; she wanted reassurance; she wanted her big friend to make things right—which said friend was entirely eager to do. Sitting on her lap helped, carefully leaning on her torso and hearing her heartbeat helped even more, even if it left the toothy girl staring at her bandaged spike from an inch away. Which just left offering one hand for her to hold in the tip of her maw, the other for her to hold in her little arms, and voilà. One soothed, metal girl, trying her hardest to relax in her guardian’s comfort.
By the time Sue was done comforting her, Willow had already shed much of their built-up discomfort, leaning over the table to watch Joy with a genuinely affectionate expression. Alas, it wasn’t to last, especially once their eyes met Sue’s once more, making them sit back down and sigh as their interrogation continued.
“Why would your siblings being alive make any difference to your faith?” Sue asked, keeping her voice as quiet as she could, rocking the lil’ girl on her lap. It wasn’t the question she wanted to ask, but it was the safer of the two.
Safer, and ineffective. Willow responded, sighing, “Significant plenty. Spread pressure.”
The mention of pressure caught Sue’s attention. “Pressure of what?”
“Forefather faith. Need respect, need worship,” they answered, straining their voice as if responding to a dimwitted, self-explanatory question. Sue didn’t appreciate that tone, about to get back at them with her riskier question—before stopping.
No, I don’t want to do this to Joy.
Instead, Sue took one deep breath, then another, then rolled her shoulders for good measure, and only then put the words to the question on her mind. “You mentioned Solstice’s influence. What about all the other influence from people of this land? Are you insisting that your forefathers’ faith somehow remained unchanged this entire time, free from the influence of Solstice’s clan, and it was only her arrival that introduced heresy?”
This was an angle that could backfire spectacularly, one Sue expected to set off people like Root if they ever heard it. She trusted Willow to be smarter than this, to recognize the faith they inherited as but one variant of many that all influenced each other, as opposed to a fixed dogma thrust upon them from Duck herself.
And she was right.
Willow clenched their paws, flinching so hard the curls under their ears jiggled as they turned to stare at the dirt path beside the table. The setting sun highlighted their age, bringing the grayish, spottier patches of fur and wrinkles on their snout into focus. They contrasted greatly with their intense blue eyes, shaking faintly as more intense emotion began to build up within them. Annoyance, offense, everything Sue had hoped she’d be able to avoid, making her lean away from the table just in case.
Thankfully, the medic kept themselves under control, letting their emotions subside before arguing, “We good, peace people, Sue. Peace, faithful, help other around, help everyone. Did good acts, good help, make good world. Not only who dislike night kin.”
Channeling her willpower, Sue stopped herself from rolling her eyes at Willow’s misdirection. They weren’t wrong—their people did a lot of good to the best of her knowledge, and that alone was worth admiration and praise. If not for their willingness to help whoever needed aid, Moonview wouldn’t exist. They obviously weren’t evil.
And yet, they weren’t without flaw, either—even if that flaw happened to be shared with others. “I’m not sure how one makes the other right, Willow. Yes, your people did many great things, but that doesn’t make them beyond reproach. Just because they helped strangers, or just because other peoples weren’t friendly towards the night kin, that doesn’t make their attitudes right.”
Sue kept her mouth open, wanting to continue. She wanted to go on about how their insistence that others’ hatred of the night kin justifying their hatred was backwards logic, how it assumed that they had somehow earned or deserved that hatred, how it could be extrapolated into painting the world as a cruel, ‘just’ place where everyone who was suffering had somehow had it coming. But she didn’t.
There was a much better point to be made, one she only noticed just now. Two, even. “And you already know that their attitudes aren’t right, don’t you, Willow? You wouldn’t be trying to excuse them if you knew they were in the right. Besides, that the others are doing it too is no excuse—isn’t it a point of pride to you, to your entire people, to be better than others, more righteous in your acts?”
She leaned back once she was done with her polemic, more confident about her approach to this discussion. There, something she knew they wouldn’t be able to argue much with, not if they wanted to approach the topic in good faith—they were getting angrier.
Nope, maybe not the best of ideas after all.
Her eyes went wide as she stared at the pink and cream medic, their expression so much fiercer than she’d ever remembered it being. Sure, she’d seen—and caused—their annoyance in the past, but this went beyond that, beyond grumbling and huffing. Their paw shook as their blue eyes glared into her, brows furrowing hard enough to make her genuinely afraid she was about to be hurt.
Fortunately, that didn’t end up happening, with their emotions finding another outlet. “We still better!” they insisted, squeaks and whines combining into something much more intimidating than Sue would’ve ever thought possible. They weren’t shouting, but only by the thinnest of margins.
For all their intensity, though, their point made little sense. “Then why not lean into being better?” Sue pressed back, pushing through her hesitation and leaning forward in her seat. “I’m sorry, Willow, I refuse to believe you of all people aren’t aware of the hurt your forefathers inflicted on the night kin with their decisions. You were here when the plague struck, you were here when they were exiled, why continue to insist on excluding them just because your ancestors did!?”
This time, it was her that had ended up with a raised voice by the end, the final syllable leaving the young girl on her lap shuddering. Willow wasn’t doing much better with remaining calm, but at least Sue’s pointed response took them aback enough to choke some of their flame. Sadly, that helped little when it came to their reasoning. “Forefathers did for reason,” they insisted, clarifying nothing.
It felt circuitous, but Sue was too invested in this silly chat to not dig as deep as she could in search of something that would make it all make sense. She responded, “What reason, then? What about the night kin is so uniquely terrible they deserve shunning and exile?”
For once, something the medic felt much more comfortable about answering, staring back at the Forest Guardian with confidence. “They enemies of Pale Lady. Not know already, Sue?”
Oh I know a fair bit about the relations between the extremely divorced lunar duo, and it sure ain’t what you’re insisting it is, Willow
As much as Sue wished she could respond with that thought verbatim, she had to resort to a different point. No amount of confidence could offset her having arrived in this world only a week ago, making all her theological assertions moot. Still, she had other options. “Says who? Solanum?”
Bringing Solstice’s clan into the conversation again didn’t do either of them any good, leaving both Sue and Willow repulsed at the mere mention, if for different reasons. With how unsightly and vulgar as Sue’s comparison was, though, the medic couldn’t resist arguing back right away, raising their voice and leaning over the table. “They are by nature! That how world is! Just reality, just truth! Not me who decide, Sue! Just reality, just truth, dozens dozens generations. My role is listen truth, not doubt, not defy—”
*whi-whimper*
The shrill sound coming from the toothy girl on Sue’s lap sent a chill through both their hearts, leaving the medic shaking as they backed down. Sue was trying her hardest to comfort Joy, holding her even closer and before humming a half-remembered lullaby, hoping it’d bring her the comfort she deserved. It was slowly working, but the little one was still confused about it all. Joy stuttered out a couple words as she looked up to her guardian, intended for Sue’s ears but only understood by Willow.
They visibly winced at the sound, closing their eyes and taking deep breaths as they reached up to rub their temples. The Forest Guardian had no idea how to answer, kicking herself over not having established a link with Joy the moment she’d ran over. What if she’d just asked her something important and would grow confused—or worse yet, terrified—about her guardian not responding?
She didn’t know, couldn’t—
“Apology for loud voice, Joy,” Willow cut in, their voice deflated. To Sue’s immediate relief, the girl on her lap not only understood the apology, but was comforted by it, nodding weakly and leaning further on her guardian. It was okay. Things were okay.
This entire cursed, tensed discussion wasn’t over yet, but everything would be alright.
Sue was torn. She wanted, needed to continue, but didn’t want to subject Joy to more of this if she could avoid it. The girl wouldn’t want to be separated from her right now even if she were to physically carry her back to Sundance and others, but who knew when she’d get the next opportunity to truly discuss this topic with the medic one-on-one and without anyone eavesdropping?
Thankfully, despite their stubborn dismissal of her points, Willow seemed just as keen on not exposing the little one to any further shouting. And if there was something Sue could still respect them for, it was that. Everything else, though... it was growing harder and harder to. Yes, they were a selfless healer, but was pride really their motivation behind doing so? Sue didn’t believe that, couldn’t believe that. She hadn’t felt a smidge of superiority in their attitude in the past, nothing but good intentions.
And yet, here they were, adamantly excusing their wrongdoings and blaming them all on their ancestors and the steps they had laid out for them. Sue wasn’t satisfied with that, nowhere near. And, once she felt Joy’s heart grow calm and her own ease out as much as if it would be today, she expressed her dissatisfaction.
“Why, though?” she asked. “Why is it not your spot to challenge or change your people’s faith? Are you not one of them? Do you not have the right to contribute and shape them?”
Disdain flashed through their short snout, muffling into dismissal by the time it had reached their vocal cords. “You not understand. Would not understand. You, Sue, one person. Me, descendant. Above, dozens dozens generations. Me they watch, judge. Me, only left, only who can carry tradition and faith. You, not have that burden.”
It was Sue’s turn to grow annoyed, sharply exhaling through her barely visible nostrils at the implication she didn’t have any expectations placed upon her. It was maybe true in this world, now that the intended pathway of finishing college, settling down and starting a family was no longer possible, but that didn’t mean she was unfamiliar with how they felt.
On the other hand... Willow had a point, too.
She wasn’t a stranger to familial expectations, but they paled compared to the sheer pressure the medic must’ve been feeling. All she had on her shoulders were the best wishes of her parents, a single generation, and their kind words as opposed to the many, many more Willow was struggling with. The only one left to follow traditions, to follow their faith, barely withstanding the crushing expectations and the peer pressure of thousands upon thousands of ghosts.
At the end of the day, however, they were just that—ghosts. Willow was still their own person with their own volition, free to act as they pleased. And, judging by their scrambled excuses, it wasn’t as if they were utterly blind to the harm they were causing. Sue responded, “Are these traditions, that faith, even something you want to carry?”
Willow jerked back, mood snapping from discomfort to a mixture of confusion and disgust. “Y-yes! Beside, what matter if not? Have to. What forefathers think if last child disrespect tradition, how angry they be?”
’What would they think’, forever the unrelenting specter.
As much as Sue wanted to snap back, saying that it didn’t matter, she knew better than to go there. This entire topic wasn’t her strong suit. She wasn’t tied to any traditions, any cultural identity; about as plain a slice of white British toast bread as they got. She didn’t know if what she was saying was even right.
But Willow didn’t know either. They were sure trying to convince themselves they knew, to relegate having to think about it all to long-established traditions and beliefs that would answer it for them. Unfortunately for them, they were too smart for that to work perfectly; too aware of the consequences of theirs and others’ actions to let the thick blanket of deferring blame smother all their doubts away and leave only devotion behind.
And it was these doubts that Sue knew she had to use to her advantage. “I can ask you the same thing, Willow,” she began. “How angry will your ancestors be to see the last one of their people clinging to oppression even after almost everyone else has moved on? How disappointed will they be to see you put hatred over the values they valued the most—”
Sue paused mid-sentence, freezing at the realization of just how furious Willow had gotten.
She looked at them in fear, watching as their wide eyes drilled into her with wrath far beyond what she thought the medic was even capable of. A voice in the back of her head was yelling at her to get up and run, shouting about how she wasn’t safe anymore and she needed to get away now—
Only for Willow to storm off with a huff instead, infuriated and—to all the relief Sue could find within her anymore—conflicted. She sat still, panting as she watched the medic leave the clearing and disappear between the Moonview’s many buildings, taking some of the evening sunlight with them. She’d shone a light on their doubt and made it grow stronger, and it was the only reason Sue wasn’t considering this entire discussion an absolute waste of their combined time.
It sure could’ve gone a lot better, though. Much, much better.
Sue knew she shouldn’t have been focusing on what could’ve been, but that fact only slightly muffled the persistent thought’s effectiveness. She still felt down, both at her missteps and at having antagonized someone she once looked up to as a friend. The rational part of her argued the latter wasn’t her fault, that Willow had brought it upon themselves the moment they let their mask slip off about how they felt about the night kin.
Her emotional part wasn’t convinced. Too late to do anything about it, though. It was time to get up, rejoin the others, and probably start heading in the general direction of a bed. Sue lifted Joy into her arms proper, the girl shivering as her maw had to let go of her friend’s fingers. She slid out of her seat, straightened her legs, began turning towards the rest of the group—
And saw someone in the treeline.
Someone who looked like Nightbane.
Sue jumped at the sight, deaf to Joy’s alarmed squeaks as she tried looking at that spot again—and found nobody. She looked around in panic, whole body shaking as her gaze fixated on every blob that so much as resembled a person between the surrounding trees. None of them amounted to anything on a closer look, though, and the more she thought about it, the more she doubted whether the ‘someone’ she’d spotted was even real to begin with.
Maybe it was nothing. Or maybe it was Nightbane. Or worse, someone else from Solstice’s clan. All the reassurances that it was just Solstice’s immediate family suddenly meant nothing, the fleeting observation eroding much of Sue’s remaining confidence in them not being a serious threat.
*sq-squeak?*
Right, sorry, Joy.
“I’m—I’m here, I’m here,” Sue whispered, holding the little metal girl tighter as she grabbed her bearings. No matter how unnerved she felt, Joy no doubt had it much worse, and it was her comfort her guardian ought to have been prioritizing. “I’m sorry sweetie, I got spooked by something. Here, let’s go back to the others now.”
Hearing her big friend’s voice helped Joy remain calm, which, in turn, reassured Sue. Together, they turned towards the table their friends were sitting at, only to spot a welcome addition—especially now that she was feeling better again. Still not at her best, but miles ahead from the last time Sue had seen her, and that was all she could reasonably expect of her. ‘Not quite perfect’ sure beat ‘so foul her and Sue only wound each other up with their mere presence’.
And, even all that aside, Sue was happy to see her. “Good evening, Solstice!” she spoke up with as much cheer as she could muster, catching the table’s upbeat attention. “I’m—I’m glad to see you’re feeling better now.”
Comet answered her greeting first, squeaking happily from his spot on his mom’s lap and earning himself a gentle hair ruffle. The Mayor’s smile wasn’t as wide as it used to be, but it felt noticeably less forced, a trade-off Sue eagerly accepted any day of the week. “^I’m glad to see you too, Sue—and you as well, Joy~.^” The addition sent giggles through the table as the metal girl in Sue’s arms squirmed happily, letting her big friend lower her down onto the ground again.
After a moment of hesitation and looking up at Sue for reassurance, Joy took a step towards the older Forest Guardian. And then, another, and third, until she had made it and gently embraced her legs, trying to feel at ease. It took Sundance all the restraint she had to not swoon at the sight, instead giving Sue an upbeat smile as her friend leaned in and lifted Joy onto her own lap with her physical arms, seating her beside her son. The movement made the girl flinch, but she eased out once she was sat down and comfy—especially with Sue right behind her with a beaming, almost tearful smile.
“Oh, my goodness...” Sue whispered, catching Joy’s attention and further calming her with her happiness. “T-twinkle?” She looked around the table, and the ghostly bundle of a child immediately perked up. Within moments, they were scooting up Sue’s body, holding her tight and relaxing at her touch. “Do you want to sit with Joy for a moment on Solstice’s lap?”
The lil’ ghost gave the question as much consideration as they could before declining in their own way—namely, by extending another pair of inky tentacles to hold Sue’s torso with. The Mayor didn’t mind, starting a chorus of ‘awww’s’ at the sight, one without judgment or mockery, only added to further with Comet’s bubbly babbling as he held his friend. Instead, Solstice gently stroked Joy’s head and—inspired by Sue—her maw, too. The girl grew stiff at the latter, but soon relaxed, unable to resist how pleasant it felt, even when coming from someone she wasn’t as close to as Sue.
“^Did you and Sundance end up talking about anything?^” the Mayor asked, taking Sue out of idly smiling at the sweet scene.
The younger Forest Guardian glanced over at Sundance, wordlessly asking if it was alright to talk about it—and received an immediate nod of confirmation. These were her struggles, after all. “Y-yeah, we did. It was... mostly about my family,” Sue answered, smudging the truth somewhat. She didn’t want to be dishonest with her mentor, but was afraid to bring up Aurora unprompted lest it would send them both into a very unpleasant territory again. “About my family, and how they kinda still haunt me.”
“And haunting like that is ever miserable indeed,” Sundance pointedly added, ruffling the fur on Spark’s head.
Solstice didn’t need to be a psychic to get the allusion, closing her eyes as she nodded. She couldn’t deny that the topic still hurt; she didn’t know if it would ever stop truly hurting. But it wasn’t a pain she had to run away from, a pain she had to keep to herself. It would do neither her nor those she cared about any good, and she finally felt ready to confront that plain truth.
She took a deep breath, dispelled her son’s worries with a gentle hair ruffle—and talked. “^Oh yes, it is miserable. I’ve... I’ve been thinking about Aurora,^” she admitted, bracing for the pain. It arrived soon after as if beckoned, but weak and muffled, defanged by having been summoned with words and not with ever-winding thoughts. “^I wanted to check up on her at the cemetery, maybe talk to her, but—but I couldn’t push myself to. I promise I tried; I just didn’t have the strength to take those final few steps. It feels like I should’ve pushed through regardless.^”
Sundance acknowledged her friend’s words, giving her a small but proud smile. “You can try tomorrow, Solstice. It will hurt, but I am glad you’re confronting those feelings. I believe in you, whether you succeed tomorrow or need more time still.”
“A-and I believe in you too!” Sue added, upbeat and... proud. It was such a weird sensation to acknowledge for Solstice, unexpected and yet more comforting than she had the words for. The Mayor might have doubted whether tomorrow’s attempt at talking to her daughter would end any differently than today’s, but now she felt willing to give it an honest attempt.
And her pupil wasn’t done yet, either. “And now that you’ve mentioned Aurora... *sigh*, we talked about her too,” Sue admitted. Every single bone in her body screamed for her to shut up, to not make things even worse now that she’d admitted to something so dumb and embarrassing. The voices were winning, leaving Sue shuddering as she looked awkwardly at the grassy dirt,
Only for Solstice’s words to dispel them all.
“^I understand. I can’t—can’t imagine all this is any easier for you, Sue.^” Solstice was struggling almost as much, internally debating whether to acknowledge what they were both feeling, the obvious and yet unspoken detail without which Sue’s focus on Aurora didn’t even make sense. It would’ve probably helped them both, but she didn’t have the strength for it. Not today. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t express what she thought. “^I’m—I’m proud of you for mentioning this.^”
It was a painful sort of pride, one filled with regret at all this even being so difficult in the first place, but no less genuine because of it. And Sue could definitely tell. “Th-thank you, Solstice,” she replied, fluttering her eyelids to abate any more tears for today.
Off to the side, Sundance found a moment to roll her eyes without being noticed. Not as much progress as she might have hoped, but more than she expected. The two Forest Guardians working through their respective ghosts wasn’t the only thing on the vixen’s mind, though. “I’m not gonna pry what you talked about with Willow, Sue, but... are you sure you’re alright? You were terrified afterwards for a moment.”
Oh boy, and here I hoped they didn’t notice. Though...
Sue shivered at the recollection, nodding firmly. “Well, yes, I got quite spooked there. I was just tired and saw something weird in the woods. Nothing serious, but I do have a question unrelated to that.”
Precisely nobody bought the pretense that the question about to be asked was unrelated to what had scared Sue, but none of the older women saw it fit to point holes in it. “^Go ahead, Sue,^” Solstice reassured.
“Is... is someone looking out for what Solanum and the rest of your family are up to?”
As composed as Sue had tried to remain when asking her question, some of her earlier fear still slipped through. Again, neither Sundance nor Solstice could blame her, with the latter answering soon after, “^I don’t think so, no. I doubt they’ll linger around for much longer after today.^”
Not the answer Sue wanted, but one she knew what to say in response to. “Well, I think it might be a good idea to have someone looking after them.” She had many reasons to want that, but realized that one of them would be what the other two women would immediately leap to. “A-and yes, I know I’m still affected by what they had done today and Nightbane’s entire f-fucking thing, and I’d be lying if I said this isn’t contributing to me asking for it, but it’s not my only reason. I’m seriously worried they have an ulterior motive for coming here, more so than just wanting to harass you, Solstice.”
Hardly the most convincing argumentation in the world. Thankfully, it was still enough, if almost entirely thanks to that first, emotional reason. “^Alright,^” Solstice responded, hiding her incredulity. “^I’ll ask for someone to keep track of them tomorrow. Astra would’ve been good at that, though she’s unfortunately absent.^”
...
Of course.
Sue’s eyes went wide. So that was why Root was so eager to send Astra on another scouting mission. He wanted her gone for a reason, and that reason must’ve been leaving Moonview without someone capable of spying or fighting Solanum and her band! She had no idea just how capable a fighter the dragon was, but her raw strength alone would’ve made her formidable, even against the invaders’ psychics. This was it, this must’ve been it, the realization winding Sue up even more—
Something cold, slimy, and wriggly was touching her leg.
She had only barely kept herself from jumping at the sensation, rational mind cutting in with a candidate for who this sensation might’ve belonged to. And sure enough, said hunch was correct, turning Sue’s panicked leap in the making into a weak, unnerved chuckle at seeing Basil’s little one trying to slither along her leg. And, given that she’d never seen him be intentionally left on his own, meant that someone was probably looking for him.
And she was down to help return him to said someone, and air her mind at the same time.
“H-hey there, little guy,” she faux-confidently greeted, carefully picking the brown caterpillar up. He was about as uncomfortable to hold as Sue would’ve guessed, especially with the constant squirming, but she tried not to pay that much mind—especially with him finally spotting her back once he was brought to within a few feet of her face, held at an arm’s length.
As if a switch had flipped, confusion and agitation filling his not-yet-formed mind turned into calm happiness at recognizing someone. It didn’t result in much change to his behavior, and especially didn’t help with his squirming, but it was still appreciated. “Let’s go find your dads, eh?”
Sundance’s and Solstice’s giggles were a pleasant backdrop for Sue getting up and turning away, but Joy was still unsure what was going on. She was torn between being interested in the brown caterpillar, and being skittish about her guardian walking away. Luckily, there just so was a course of action that satisfied both concerns—leaping off the Mayor’s lap and breaking into a dash to catch up with Sue.
If the once-human had trusted herself to be able to carry the lil’ bug in one hand, she would’ve kneeled to pet Joy once she’d caught up with them. But, in the absence of that, words had to suffice. “I’m here Joy, I’m here! Everything is alright, we’re just helping our little friend find their dads—oh, and I think we found... uh, Basil’s mate.”
Her memory of names might’ve failed her, but she was sure the giant butterfly’s appearance would remain seared into her mind forever, even past the shock of their... mutual introduction. Though, to be fair, that was true of almost everyone else in Moonview as well. As striking as their massive red compound eyes were, though, their vision didn’t seem to be all that good. It took until Sue was within fifteen feet of them or so for them to finally make her—and the lil’ bug in her arms—out.
Their emotions were much more dire than Sue had expected, but they didn’t last. A chirping buzz of relief and joy filled the air as they dashed over, subsuming the grief and fear that had shone through earlier once they took the brown caterpillar into their tiny blue paws. Sue wasn’t sure whether actual butterflies even had arms, but that was not a limitation this world cared about either way, so what did it matter? Either way, their son was as happy as his infant mind could express; the butterfly was ecstatically nuzzling their little one all over the underside of their head segment, and things were—
BIRCH! His name is Birch. Finally remembered.
—and things were good. Once Birch was done making their baby bug flail and squirm, he shifted his attention to Sue and Joy instead; the latter waving at him happily. Just like Sue earlier, he didn’t have the spare arms to wave back at her, forcing him to express his greetings differently. He flapped his powerful wings a few times, the resulting gust of wind somehow ruffling Sue’s hair even further and almost knocking Joy off her feet—to the girl’s amusement, surprisingly. She half-squealed, half-growled something in return, and just like earlier, Birch responded with another gust of wind, letting out laughter-like buzzing all the while.
And if only the wind didn’t contain some weird glitter that made Sue sneeze and feel itchy, she wouldn’t have had any issues with it. Thankfully, Birch realized what was going on and spared the Forest Guardian a third Gust, flying over with mild concern. Joy was more overtly disappointed, but didn’t let it get to her—especially when she still could play waving at each other back and forth with the caterpillar.
Sue wasn’t even sure if her sneezing was Birch’s fault, but either way, it was annoying more than anything. “Oh, I’m—I’m—*achoo!*—I’m good. *Sniff*, good Duck I wouldn’t think my allergies would flare up hereeee—*achoo!*”
Not hearing any alarm in the Forest Guardian’s tone, the big butterfly calmed down instead, flying back to keep his distance as the buzzes continued. Giddy but controlled and apologetic towards her, excitable towards Joy, and relieved towards the little one. It probably involved thanks of some sort, and Sue acted proactively by slightly bowing towards him in return.
His amusement hinted at her having either gotten his intent or the timing way, way off, but Sue was feeling too good—and too sniffly—to let that get to her.
Once Birch had flown off, his son buzzing in his paws all the while, Sue turned around towards their table—and saw it was already empty. She only caught a brief glimpse of Sundance and Spark before they disappeared behind buildings on their way back to their dwelling, leaving just Solstice and Comet walking towards them. For once, the latter was allowed to walk on the dirt and grass beside his mom. Or, at least, to try to walk beside her, constantly stumbling and stopping, tripping and falling, and failing all that—awkwardly waddling.
Still, progress! “Good job, Comet!” Sue smiled.
*squeeeak!*
His antics helped keep the atmosphere light once he and his mom had caught up to Sue, the two adults exchanging tired, but unfaltering smiles. The air between them wasn’t perfectly clear yet, but they could look each other in the eye again. And just having that was more reassurance than either of them would’ve expected—or been comfortable admitting to themselves.
“^Is Birch doing alright?^” Solstice asked once Comet was just a few steps away from Sue.
“Oh? Why wouldn’t he be?”
The Mayor hesitated for a while before admitting with a sigh, “^He has had a recent tragedy in the family, to my knowledge. I’m glad he’s keeping positive through it, though I hope he’ll talk with someone if it gets too much.^”
Sue winced, feeling bad about not having said something to reassure him in that case. Then again, aside from that instant of awful murk, he genuinely felt good at being reunited with his son, and not even in the pretend way she and Solstice were all too keen on. Maybe she would’ve only made it worse by bringing it up.
Yeah, I’ve had enough fretting about stuff like this for a while.
She had much more important things to be thinking about, after all. Things, and people. Shaking the previous topic aside, Sue looked straight at Solstice, with the older Forest Guardian noticing the attention and looking back at her after picking her son up into her arms. Once, she would’ve been terrified at those demonic eyes staring into her. Once, she would’ve been aghast at the idea of a ‘real’ Forest Guardian facing her like this. Once, she would’ve felt too guilty about everything they were both feeling to maintain eye contact for more than a shameful instant.
Once, but no longer.
Taking a bold step forward, Sue raised her hand and patted Solstice’s shoulder. The older Forest Guardian wasn’t familiar with the gesture, but she didn’t flinch—Sue’s intent was obvious. And so, so appreciated. Instead, the Mayor’s eyes shone as her psychics embraced her pupil and oriented her into a side hug, gentle and warm to the touch. Not something the younger Forest Guardian would’ve done, but all the more reassuring because of it, the combined warmth undoing more of their respective insecurities than any dry chat.
Especially when accompanied by words. “I’m glad you—you’re trying to face it all, Solstice,” Sue whispered.
Her mentor beamed. “^Thank you, Sue. And I’m... I’m proud of you. I haven’t said that enough, nowhere near enough. I’m proud of your intervention yesterday, of your determination to make things right in Newmoon, of how you’ve been looking after Joy and now Twinkle, too. I know none of that has been easy for you, but you’ve been trying your best each and every time. You’re doing great things, and more importantly, you’re a great person yourself. And I’m hardly the only one that thinks so~.^”
Sue had no idea when all these tears had snuck up on her, but she didn’t have it in her to mind that much. She let them flow freely, basking in the warmth of Solstice’s words. Twinkle and Joy were quick to notice what looked like distress, but the Mayor was on top of things, covertly whispering reassurances about their... their guardian being happy. Because she was happy.
She hadn’t remembered feeling like this, this comfort, ever since that fateful memory Solstice had watched with her in the cemetery.
The sun was setting around them, but they didn’t rush. Sue’s eyes were puffy from tears, her cheeks glistened with sticky wetness, but neither of these facts mattered, neither of them could matter. Things were okay. She was okay, not just in the moment, but... in general. Inherently. It’s been so, so long since she’d last allowed herself to think that.
“Th-th-thank you, *sniff*, Solstice...” Sue mumbled, voice unsteady and cracking.
“^You’re very welcome, Sue. Feeling ready to walk back home?^”
Sue was taken aback at the nudge, but couldn’t blame her mentor for it—the very last sliver of the sun had just crept its way behind the horizon, best not to waste any more time. “Y-yeah, I-I think I’m ready! How about you, Joy?”
The metal girl perked up, looking away from the beautiful shades of shifting sky above her and towards her guardian. “G-g-go, yes! Y-you happy?”
More than I know how to describe, Joy.
“Yes, yes I am, sweetie. And I hope you are, too!”
“Yeeees!” Joy squealed. “P-p-pretty, up!”
“^The sunsets are beautiful this time of the year, indeed. Imagine if you could capture all those shifting colors in a painting, or weave them into clothing.^”
Sue held in a chuckle—all the ‘smart’ junk back on Earth could probably do something like that, but even with all its wires and power usage, it still wouldn’t have come close to the real thing. “That would be pretty, yeah. Wanna hop into my arms so that you can watch the sky?”
It wasn’t even a question.
The route back to Solstice’s tent wasn’t a particularly difficult or busy one, especially with much of it passing through the outskirts of Moonview. Duck’s altar was in the same state Sue had last seen it in. The flowers in front of the shattered wall were wilting, evidently untouched since before it went down, with nobody exactly certain on how to handle it now. She could only chuckle at the realization—and this time, Solstice was feeling confident enough to laugh along with her.
For all his excited wriggling, Comet didn’t last long once their path grew dark, easing out more and more in his mom’s arms. Joy, however, was still enthralled with the skies above, watching closely as the dark reds faded to purples, then blues, then finally darkness—and, at the other end of the heavens, to pinpricks of stars. The Moon was there too, its thick crescent silently watching over them.
And beside them, between the buildings, a trembling, dimly glowing bundle.
The younger Forest Guardian took a moment to come to after Solstice had pointed out the dim fear in a nearby alleyway, but once she knew where to probe with her tugging sense, she could sense it too. She could even tell who it belonged to based on that feeling alone! Or at least so she hoped—it was hard to deny the possibility of her sight influencing that ‘hunch’.
“^Crackle? Are you okay?^” Solstice asked, kneeling beside him.
Sue had no idea how a fire could whimper, but the hidden glowing boy had managed to make that sound, regardless. Worryingly, he didn’t react to the Mayor’s words, leaving her unsure as her pupil tried her luck. “Crackle, did something happen to you?” It was the most obvious reason for Sue, and it wasn’t like Moonview was lacking in suspects for having done such a thing, letting a few drops of anger into her thought process.
Not this time, though. “S-S-Sue! Nothing happened to me. I’m—I’m just afraid of the night,” the lamp child answered, telepathy turning many tiny variations of hissing and crackling into tones and words.
Too bad it didn’t help with making his answer make sense. “W-why?”
“Because Mr. Root told me the night kin are gonna be coming now! A-and that they’re evil and they’re gonna hurt us!”
Had Solstice been any more tired, the impulse to facepalm would’ve won. Sue, instead, was just left disappointed—but still somewhat hopeful. They were clearly listening to her, so maybe she could try to argue? “Oh no, that’s not true, Crackle! Some of them are a little scary, sure, but they won’t hurt you more than anyone else would.”
Immediately, conflict filled his mind, a battle of ‘he said’ versus ‘she said’ that threatened to subsume him whole. “But how do you know that, Sue?”
“Because... I visited them a couple days ago, and they didn’t hurt me!”
They didn’t, only that fucking bird. And, well, Alastor had tried, but Crackle doesn’t need to know that—
“Ooooohhh. I see,” the bedsheet ghost sighed, picking himself up from the ground. Sue wasn’t sure why he was even taking her assertions at face value instead of bringing up Sundance as a counterargument, but she wasn’t about to argue with that. The mean side of her brain suggested it was because Crackle sure didn’t feel like he got to talk much with anyone, but she was sure there had to have been a different explanation. “Won’t they want to hurt me because I make light?”
Sue blinked. “What—oh no no no,” she answered, trying to hold in giggles. “They don’t sit in darkness all day.”
Crackle gasped. “Oh! I didn’t know that. Thank you, Sue!” Reassured, they hovered closer to her, carefully wrapping their black... limbs around her waist. Even beyond their uncomfortable warmth, they felt less like flesh and more like stiff metal, making their affection about as pleasant as hugging a kettle. Didn’t matter, though—she was glad to have helped them out, especially since she hadn’t gotten burned yet.
“Y-you’re welcome, Crackle! U-um, gonna be lighting up the—”
“*GASP!* Yes, I almost forgot, thank you Sue!” Crackle jolted into the air. “Goodbye Sue, goodbye Mrs. S-S-Solstice!” Before either of them could respond, Crackle was already gone, his trek through Moonview heralded by the streets lighting up with a dim, purplish light.
As silly as this entire exchange had been, one detail in it had left Sue worried, even after they were on the move again. “Does he interact with Root often?”
Solstice sighed. “^Unfortunately, yes. Root’s the one looking after him to the best of my knowledge. Mentors him, too—for better or worse, he’s the best suited person in Moonview to do so.^”
Sue wasn’t convinced how well that overgrown ferret was suited to mentoring anyone about anything that wasn’t putting on a pointy white hat and matching robes, but she had little room to argue. And so, she didn’t, letting that point fade into the night as they reached the Mayor’s tent.
Joy grumbled about being taken indoors just as the stars were getting really visible, but her annoyance didn’t last long in the light of her own drowsiness. Twinkle needed little prodding to fall asleep either, and all Comet required was being lowered into his cot. Before long, it was just the two Forest Guardians, exhausted physically, emotionally, and mentally from a long, long day.
And yet, they felt good—better than they have in days.
In some ways, better than they have in years.
It wouldn’t be long before Sue joined the two little ones beside her in unconsciousness. Still, she was hesitant to let go of awareness yet, even as warm as Solstice’s affection had made her feel. Her fears from earlier in the day had been dulled, soothed, overshadowed, and weren’t threatening to tear her psyche apart—but she was still curious about the catalyst behind them. “S-Solstice?” she whispered.
There were no words in response, merely a faint psychic touch on her head, accompanied by the other Forest Guardian’s dimly glowing eyes opening to look at her.
“If it’s not too much... what was Aurora like?”
Predictably, Solstice’s eyes closed at the question, her emotions threatening to sour from their previous mute contentment. It hurt to think about, and Sue feared she’d inadvertently triggered another breakdown—but her mentor held through it. The Mayor wasn’t sure if she’d be able to maintain this kind of focus when the time came to talk to Aurora, but she could cling onto it now. “^Always wanted to help everyone she ran into, no matter how much or how little she was really capable of it, hah.^”
A sniffle filled the silence, then another.
“^Loved to practice her psychics, even if they were quite hard for her. And...^” Solstice trailed off, breathing heavily. “^Could we talk about her more tomorrow? I’m not sure how much I can do it tonight, I’m afraid.^”
“Oh no no, it’s okay,” Sue whispered. “I really hope we can do that.”
Her mentor opened her eyes again, looking at her with a soft, motherly expression. “^I’ll try my best. It is long overdue.^”
And that’s all Sue could ever ask for. “Thank you, Solstice. Sleep well.”
“^May She keep your rest peaceful.^”
♪C A E♭ F♭ A E♭ F♭ G A E♭ B♭—♪
Sue kept her eyes closed as her hands played music on their own, putting her mom’s guitar to good use. Even once she’d come to, she took her time opening her eyes to whatever awaited her this time—it’s been a while since she last had the chance to just sit down and listen to something pleasant.
Alas, this un-reality would only indulge her for so long, with the individual chords growing disjointed before stopping altogether as her dreamed-up guitar skills had finally descended all the way down to her actual guitar skills. Killjoy.
Even with the music gone, she was still hesitant to look at what awaited her. The last thing she wanted was another confrontation with Justice—or worse. How about a calm dream where it was just her, the kid—the little ones, Lilly, and a nice beach? Or a cafe? Or hell, even a decent chip shop. None of that, yet again, that much she was sure of without even having to open her eyes.
Into this replica of a replica of the place where I saw my mom alive for the last time.
Many of the surrounding details were growing almost distressingly familiar. To her right, a shadowy figure, the twisting darkness trying its hardest to coalesce into a vertically elongated shape but failing. To her left, just like in her last dream, Joy and Twinkle, still dancing and squirming in their seat even with the music gone. Just like the last time, they turned to her smiling and excited, waved at her—and were gone in the blink of an eye.
Before her, someone else. Someone like her.
Freezing dread filled Sue’s mind as she took in the details of the stranger, so similar to what she was familiar with and yet so different. White body, green legs, short skirt of loose skin. Green hair falling onto their shoulders, twin red horns sticking out of their head, though not in the same way as with Comet. Taller than him, much shorter than her. Facing away from her.
As much as Sue tried to focus on them, she couldn’t figure out who it was. She felt she should know, but she didn’t, and each moment where the facts refused to click together only added more fuel to the quickly burning panic within her. Who was this; why were they so familiar!?
Before Sue knew, a Dark Void began to encircle her, closing in on her while her entire attention was focused on this shadow, this ghost before her. At last, they moved, twitching as if shocked as they lifted their head and began turning it towards her—
“BEGONE.”
And then, a blink later, the shadow before her was gone, joining the usual two beside her. Sue panted as she caught her breath, panicking eyes looking around the scene in trying to figure out what was going on. The darkness was gone; the fire was back; everything was as usual—and Night Father was there, too.
Sue could faintly recall seeing Him a couple nights ago in a terrible, injured state, and He sure hadn’t gotten any better since. His left arm hung limply from its shoulder, only attached to it with a handful of thin, dark threads. That aside, He was as usual—black body, white head, crimson collar and all, calmly watching the fire as He sat a respectful distance away from her.
The last time they had interacted didn’t go the most... swimmingly. On one hand, that was decidedly His fault for siccing multiple cruel deities upon her in His dumb investigation, but on the other, He was just about the only celestial being that was genuinely trying to help her out, even if for His own reasons.
I just hope he isn’t too upset with me.
Left unsure what to say, Sue broke the quiet with a greeting. “Um, good—good evening, Night Father?” At last, a reaction, His pale blue eye turning to focus on her.
“Greetings.”
“Hi, hi. Uh, sorry for your arm?”
“Inconsequential. Gratitude towards you.”
It took Sue embarrassingly long to realize what He was referring to, a nervous chuckle leaving her afterwards. She expected people to thank her for that, sure, but not... deities. “Y-you’re welcome. So, uh... any reason for the visit, or just to say thanks?”
“Knowledge of the guilty party.”
Sue froze at the admission, not expecting Him to have gone from blindly fumbling to figuring out the culprit in just a few nights. “A-are you sure? Who is it? Is—is it Justice?”
“Certain. Identity...”
His voice trailed off, almost as if uncertain. Sue didn’t like this, not after Justice’s many non-answers about which divine bastard had the bright idea to spirit away her, of all people. “Wh-who is it!?”
“Cannot answer.”
She had had enough. “WHY!? I'M SO FUCKING TIRED OF EVERYONE PLAYING THESE STUPID GAMES—”
“Remember last dream. When saw guilty, dream shattered.”
...
“Wh-what do you mean? You mean our last dream t-together? I remember th-that fucking Justice douche talking to me with its dumb piece of paper, and then... Th-then—”
Sue tried to focus on what happened afterwards. She flexed every neuron her brain would allow her to, recalling everything up to when some unknown voice made her look over her shoulder. Then… nothing.
The same nothing as when trying to recall what happened before she ended up in this world. “W-wait, so that thing isn’t even letting me know who it is!?”
“Almost certain. Apology inadequate answer.”
If she hadn’t already been so tired of swearing revenge on assorted celestial beings, she would’ve promised the deity responsible enough punishment to make Margaret Thatcher’s eternal resting place seem like a five star resort. “It’s—it’s fine. W-wait, so it’s not Justice?”
“Correct. Justice not likely cause. However, very likely meddling.”
“S-so It has something to do with all this! It came in, has been bothering me in my dreams, brought even more pain and confusion into this entire mess and it wasn’t even who brought me here!?” Sue half shouted, half begged for an answer, only barely keeping herself together.
“Correct.”
None of this was making any sense. “B-but for what?”
“Revenge against the guilty party.”
The same reasoning Justice Itself gave her when first talking to her. She had no reason to suspect Night Father was in cahoots with It, which meant that not only Justice didn’t lie, but that It was fighting against the ‘guilty party’. Sue’s mind was much more keen to use more flowery descriptions for that unknown deity, but couldn’t decide on which—or whether she ought to keep herself to under fewer than five swear words in a row.
Even that confirmation provided little relief. “So, Justice is just using me like a tool to get back at the ‘guilty party’, somehow?”
“Basing on knowledge of Justice—almost certain.”
Sue felt sick, and so did her imagination. With the stage now set beyond any doubt, it inspired new exciting and terrifying possibilities for what might’ve been going on. The most harrowing one of all was one where whoever had sent her here was the ‘good’ one, and Justice was the actual ‘evil’ she would have to somehow defeat in her stay here. Did it make any sense? Hell no.
Was her mind feeling capable of coming up with anything better? She sure fucking wished. “None of this makes any sense...” she whimpered, distraught.
“Guilty party, very annoying. Justice, very petty.”
The mental image of being used as a cudgel for one asshole to beat another asshole with sure is thrilling.
Sue shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. “Wh-what now? I’m—I’m not sure what to do with this knowledge.”
“Long term, continue as were. Only Justice knows its plan. Short term, want confirm.”
“C-confirm what?”
“Knowledge of guilty party destroy dream.”
She nodded idly, not particularly caring about His experiments. Guess in the best-case scenario, she’d have her hollow answer, a name to curse but which she had no hopes of ever hurting in the waking world. Otherwise—assuming she understood His explanation—she’d just wake up.
That sure sounded nice after having been through all this. “Sure, go ahead.”
“Certain ready?”
“Not like I’m waiting for much in this cruel fucking joke of a place—”
Sue blinked.
The dawn creeped across the walls of Solstice’s tent, and it was beautiful.
If you're confused about the species of the characters and want them spoiled, I've set up a page listing the species of all the featured characters in each chapter!
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Also check out my other story, From the Vast!
