NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter 21: Promise
*yaaaaaaaaawwwwn*
The quiet, high-pitched sound filled the clinic’s main chamber as a tiny tree stump stretched beside the sleeping ghost. Sage reached out more and more of her spectral body from its wooden shell as she came to, looking around the dim space. Despite how dark it still was, she already felt more awake than not. And, as her cursory sweep of the room showed, she was probably the only one.
Her and Yaksha’s was the last of a row of beds spanning the entire clinic, with a second one mirroring it in front of the opposite wall. Thankfully, only a few of them were occupied, and said occupants all looked firmly asleep. The thought still scared her a bit, but... it probably wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look at them, right?
With as deep of a breath as her lung-less body could manage and Yaksha’s protective presence on her mind, the Phantump slowly hovered towards the nearest occupied bed. It was tricky to make out most of its occupant from underneath the large blanket, but the striped tail with a red bulb at the end was a giveaway on its own. A giveaway Sage didn’t remember enough to identify, making her fly closer to the yellow-black extremity to see if she could—
*zz-zap!*
The tiny discharge of static had the ghost dash behind the nearest bed for protection. It didn’t hurt anywhere near as much as she thought it would; she couldn’t even feel it after just a few moments. Even despite that, if she still had a heart, it would’ve been absolutely hammering in fear at the jolt and the dangers it could’ve implied.
At least they didn’t wake up.
While Sage floated away from the Ampharos, she kept fighting with herself to turn around and go back to Yaksha’s bed, to return to his dry, but earnest protection. She knew nothing bad would come to her there, not the sorts of things that could happen to her if she accidentally annoyed one of the sleeping patients, but... but...
There was always the chance that she’d find out what she once was. Or, at least, remind herself of something important. Anything but this anxiety-inducing unknown—anything but this tattered recollection that inevitably ended in trauma.
With that tear-inducing reassurance, the Phantump kept going. She steadied her breathing once more while she hovered over to the next bed, its occupant much more visible. Yellow beak, presently wrapped in bandages, a bunch of white feathers covering its front and face, and reddish down elsewhere. She remembered seeing so many of them, always in very happy situations. Yeah. Though her mom kept telling her not to get too close, Sage had no idea why, especially since they brought berries or gifts every time—
The Delibird’s frigid exhale answered the ghost’s dilemma before she could even think through it any further. It felt like her face was burning; the frost covering its bottom rim stung; it all hurt so much. She immediately dashed back to her guardian ghost with a squeak of pain, avoiding holding him as tight as possible through the sheer force of will.
Instead, she tried lying down on the barebones mattress, hoping that whatever heat remained in it would help warm her face up. She froze as she heard shuffling from further in the room, flinching with every step coming her way. Eventually, a concerned-sounding question came her way, delivered in birdsong. It didn’t sound angry—the opposite, if anything—but Sage remained too afraid to look up at them even as the worst of the pain finally subsided.
It didn’t hurt that bad in hindsight, but... it still hurt. And she didn’t want to hurt.
After the most tensely awkward half-minute or so of Sage’s afterlife, the Delibird eventually took her lack of response as an answer. Unseen, they slowly backed off into their bed. Once she heard the thud of them lying back down, she kept checking if they were asleep every few moments, only daring to move again once they had been completely still for a while. This was all so scary—so much more so than she would’ve thought. Especially with how homely this little settlement was otherwise.
Scary or not, Yaksha was there.
With all the frost gone from her wooden face, Sage could finally try huddling up to him closer, to ask for sorely needed reassurance. Right as she was about to do that, though, she heard some sounds from the room on the nearby wall’s other side.
One of the voices she remembered hearing yesterday. It could even have been that scary human that Yaksha was so angry about. A part of her was still scared of that idea, but... far, far from all of her. With the Banette asleep and nobody else around being awake anymore to see her do it, the Phantump slowly floated up and closer to the thick sheet of canvas separating the rooms.
Float all the way over, take a deep breath, one, two, three, lean in—
The slightly warmer air tingled Sage’s face and helped melt through what remained of the frost. The pleasant sensations were nowhere near what the rest of the ghost was focused on, the sight of a human almost enough to make her withdraw back there and then—but only almost.
She still didn’t dare move further forward, content to snoop on the sleeping stranger from her near-ceiling vantage point. Everything she’d heard about them from Yaksha and even many things she had experienced told her she should’ve been terrified at that moment, but... she wasn’t. Apprehensive, a bit intimidated, sure, but only that. In fact, with how that human kept shifting and tossing around, Sage felt rather sorry for them.
Doubly so with the cast on their arm.
Seeing what the Phantump assumed to be a part of the shadows in the room’s corner suddenly move startled her out of any further compassionate thoughts. Nigh-imperceptible darkness coalesced into the shape of a tall owl, further chilling her thoughts. The ghost girl maintained any semblance of composure only at the realization that the Decidueye didn’t see her. Instead, they walked over to the human and laid the tip of their wing on her head before gently stroking her hair.
As comforting as the gesture was, it also had the unavoidable effect of waking said human up, with a light startle, no less. The sight made the owl coo something towards her, something the human clearly didn’t understand any more than Sage herself did.
Instead of answering right away, the human reached over to grab her glasses from the nightstand, blinking through her remaining sleepiness as she put them on.
And immediately noticed Sage.
The Phantump withdrew right back into the clinic’s main chamber with a panicky squeak, mind racing and only capable of thinking about returning to Yaksha’s protective presence. Which wasn’t an option right away, either.
She remembered seeing the Blissey tend to the Banette yesterday, and a part of her was very glad to see her guardian getting more aid. The rest of her ended up even more skittish instead, especially with them likely noticing the frost burn on her face if they were to look up—
They looked up.
The Blissey’s immediate response was a drawn-out exhale, followed up by the loudest whisper Sage had ever heard in her life, aimed further into the clinic. On cue, one of the other healers, the Leavanny, peeked out from another side chamber further into the tent; their expression split equally between relief and exasperation.
“S-sorry...” Sage muttered. She didn’t expect the Normal-type to chuckle at her words, taking her aback as the mantis approached, holding a small bowl. To the Phantump, it looked like just some yellowish paste, its purpose entirely unknown.
And then, moments later, blissful relief from the leftover stinging as said paste was smeared around her frost burn. It felt so tingly, so… nice. She finally floated back onto the mattress right as the Blissey wrapped up her checkup on the still-asleep Yaksha. The combined kindness they were treated to made her feel even warmer. “Th-thank you so much!” she squeaked.
A smile and a deep nod from the Blissey, moderate confusion from Leavanny, first at Sage and then at their coworker. Before the Normal-type could explain something to their coworker, the shuffle of the front entrance caught everyone’s attention instead.
The Phantump squeaked at seeing the familiar Gardevoir step in, “Hi!”
Aria answered with a curt wave, a small smile briefly replacing her concern. She didn’t stay long though, first stopping before the entrance of the human’s room, then taking a deep breath, and finally walking in with as much confidence as she could muster.
Sage hoped she wasn’t afraid of the human, too.
Anne was much less scared of the Phantump than she was surprised by it.
The sight still made her jump, no doubt about that, but it didn’t leave any lingering dread behind itself. If anything, she found them and their skittishness funny in hindsight, especially with them sticking out right beneath the ceiling. The amusement didn’t last, though, not once she remembered where Phantump were supposed to come from.
Dead little baby mons.
The realization made her feel guilty for laughing, instead hoping that whoever they were, they didn’t get badly injured or anything. And that, of course, they felt just as safe here as Anne did. Despite the gregarious Decidueye in her room.
...
In part, because of said Decidueye in her room, even.
Anne knew little about Sprout beyond her name, but what she’d seen of her only painted her in a positive light. More smiles than the girl thought possible with a beak, frequent physical affection, much of it feeling surprisingly nice, and a constant effort to not appear intimidating. She didn’t know if the two were actually related, but if they were, it made sense where Blossom’s niceness had come from.
Hopefully, the Dartrix would visit her again soon.
*rustle, rustle*
The sound of someone stepping into the room had Anne’s happy thoughts be replaced with even happier ones. A large smile crept to her face as she waved at the Gardevoir, “~G-good morning, Mrs. Aria!~”
“^Good morning, Anne, Sprout. How are you doing?^” Aria’s response wasn’t as enthusiastic as Anne thought it’d be, but entirely positive all the same.
“Mighty fine, Aria dear! Anne finally got some decent sleep in, didn’t ya, Anne?” Sprout teased.
The human nodded eagerly at the Decidueye’s question, bringing a strained smile to the Gardevoir’s face.
“^I’m very glad to hear. Still feeling awake, Sprout?^”
“Yeah, I got an hour more or so in me. Thinking of leavin’ us alone again?”
“^No, no... the opposite, if anything. I want to talk with Anne about something, and it’s... best kept private,^” Aria explained.
Anne blinked in surprise, entirely lost about what could the Gardevoir be referring to.
“Somethin’ private, eh?” Sprout chuckled. “No worries. Have a good day you two~! Gonna be a long one!”
Oh, that it most certainly would be.
Aria had to put in her utmost willpower to maintain the smile after Sprout’s parting words. At last, it was just her and the innocent, powerless human she swore to protect, entirely ignorant of what would await her later today—
“~I saw a Phantump peek through the wall earlier. Do they live here?~” Anne asked.
The girl’s question took Aria aback, providing a very needed, if equally fleeting, distraction. “^No, no. Her name is Sage. I ran into her and her guardian when on my patrol yesterday. I don’t know if they intend to stay here.^”
The answer was sufficient, if not particularly deep. It wasn’t the part Anne was concerned about the most, though. Aria sounded so unlike herself, her usual calm voice so clearly strained. The human had no idea what had caused it and if she even could help, but she would still try all the same. “~Is something wrong, Mrs. Aria?~”
This time, the smile didn’t quite endure the strain the Gardevoir’s mind put it under. She was worried that the sight alone would be enough to freak Anne out with its possible implications, but thankfully, it wasn’t. Instead, the girl shuffled over to the bed’s edge before sitting down on it and... patted a spot beside herself. It was undoubtedly a sweet gesture, one that would even come in handy with what she wanted to talk about.
Assuming Anne wouldn’t want to run as far away from her as possible once she learned of her lies and the village’s cruelty.
The possibility chilled her to the core; the mental image of Anne being as afraid of her as she was on the very first day here, but for much more justified reasons, was a deeply disconcerting one. At the same time, the girl grew more worried with every passing second of tense silence, pushing her guardian to finally act. And so; she sat down beside Anne, the human almost embracing her there and then. Aria wanted this; Aria didn’t deserve this. It could backfire so badly, but if it also could bring her some comfort in what was to come... “^G-go right ahead, Anne.^”
Unsurprisingly, the reassurance only did so much to stem the quickly intensifying tension on both sides. Not unearned for either party, but entirely liable to make it all even worse than it already would be.
Aria wasn’t ready at all, but she had to tackle it there and then. “^Anne... I have to tell you something.^”
The girl’s embrace was tight and shaky, her bony body warm to the touch. Aria saw the plain desire for her one-armed hug to be returned right in Anne’s expression, but... couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not now, not then, not with something so deeply evil still unstated.
The girl asked, distraught, “~Wh-wh-what is it, Mrs. Aria?~”
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. It was time to come clean. Inhale, exhale. Inhale—“^There... there will be a vote about letting you stay later today.^”
The fact took its sweet time worming its way into Anne’s mind; simple words and their consequences made it all the more difficult to process in the morning’s mental fog. Once they did, though, they brought with them a building avalanche of fear, the harrowing implications sparking a dozen more in an instant. “~D-do you mean that if they vote a-against me, I won’t be able to stay h-here?~”
All Aria could do was confirm Anne’s suspicions with a somber nod, adding more fuel to the quickly growing fire of terror.
“~W-wait, but where—where would I even go? Would I have to go b-back to my house a-and—No no no, please don’t, please don’t make me go back, anything but that, I-I—why are they v-voting against me!?~”
Anne was hyperventilating by now; Aria left paralyzed about what to do to help without inadvertently making it any worse.
“^Some—some have objections to you staying here,^” the Gardevoir explained. Anne’s burning follow-up question was clear to sense, even as her throat was struggling too much with words to vocalize it. “^Because... you are a human.^”
Anne was panicking far too hard by that point to even speak, her entire body shaking as her mind tortured itself with the implications. Of course, nobody wanted her to stay here. She was just a monster to them, of the very species that made their life hell. Her presence here was clearly making so many uncomfortable and she’s been completely overlooking that for her own selfish sake.
Everyone here must’ve gone through so much pain because of humanity, and here she was, pushing the envelope and begging for them to protect her from her own evil species. Of course she didn’t deserve it. Why would she deserve it; why would she be any different deep down from all the trainers, all the poachers, all the breeders? She wasn’t, she so obviously wasn’t, she deserved to be thrown out.
Anne didn’t want it, but she deserved it.
Aria’s arm hovered just above the girl’s other side, afraid to lower itself lest it would make her panic even harder. All this was the her fault, be it through her present words or past inaction, and she felt entirely powerless about how to stop it. Anything she did could’ve, likely would’ve, made it all even worse. Especially once Anne realized she’d lied to her about that very vote earlier. It was all her fault—
Before the combined despair in the room could bring Aria to a panic attack of her own, Anne’s tight embrace snapped her right out of that perilous mental thread. The girl was clinging to her for her life, clinging to her for any and all protection she could get in this nightmarish situation, clinging to her with all the trust in the world, none of it feeling deserved by its recipient.
Deserved or not, it was there all the same, and the least Aria could do was use it for reassurance. “^I... I don’t want to lie to you and can’t say it with certainty, but... me, Autumn, and others are doing all we can to make sure it won’t happen. I will be a part of the vote, as will Marco. We’ve been talking to others about it, asking those who would vote against to reconsider, and... I think it’s unlikely that you’ll be voted out.^”
Aria’s calculated words didn’t have all the impact the Gardevoir hoped they would have, but that didn’t mean they were pointless either. Anne was still justifiably terrified; her body still shook against the psychic’s side, but... the worst of the fear began to wane. Aria gave the girl all the time she needed to process it all, finally returning her embrace in full. The faint tingling of her psychic skin was relaxing in its familiarity, even without a Calm Mind.
Moment by moment, the terror waned into ‘just’ fear as Anne gathered words to speak again, trying her hardest to not break down once more. “~Wh-what will h-happen to me if I have to go? Where will I go—oh gods, what—what will happen to Ember? I-I don’t want her to suffer with me, but I don’t want to be alone either, it—it feels like I’ll die and—~”
Despite her best efforts, Anne’s voice frayed once more, turning into a drawn out whine as she pressed her crying, suffering self into Aria’s side. Her life depended on it; she would die if she ended up being kicked out. Between her father, homelessness, and just being alone, she would die, she would die, she would die...
“^I-I don’t know. I’m sorry, Anne,^” Aria whimpered. “^You don’t deserve any of this. I wish I had an answer; I wish I could say anything with certainty, but... I can’t. I already lied to you about this, and I apologize for that. I... understand if you won’t trust me again because of that, no matter what happens afterwards.^”
The Gardevoir slowly raised her embracing arm away from Anne, not wanting her to feel trapped if she tried to hide from her again. Her terror was just like when she first realized just what Aria was, that she was a feral Gardevoir and not a healer human. But now, it was made so much more powerful by the vice of it being utterly justified and caused, in part, by Aria’s own inaction.
Regardless of how pitiful Aria’s words were, they still knocked Anne’s despairing mind out of the worst of her panic. She was suffering, but so was Aria, and her words...
The girl held her guardian even tighter in response, tears streaming down her face and Aria’s side alike. The Gardevoir was too surprised to even register the sensation of the glasses digging into her skin. Slowly, she lowered her hand once more, still avoiding touching the girl, lest it’d startle her. Moment by moment, the worst of her panic subsided again as she mumbled out, “~Wh-why wouldn’t I, M-Mrs. Aria?~”
It was entirely unlike what the Gardevoir expected to hear, doubly so with her having just explained the very reason moments earlier. “^Because I lied to you. I told you that you’d be staying here for good, that everything would be alright, that,^” Aria flinched as she confronted the lie at the root of it all, the admission going so deeply against her innermost nature despite its piercing accuracy, “^that you were safe here. I’m sorry, Anne.^”
The untruths hurt, but so did Aria’s own pain. The latter in particular gave Anne a surge of motivation to gather her composure, to provide at least a bit of reassurance to her guardian, even if she needed it, too. Her panic gave way to sadness as her shaking waned just enough for her to speak, “~*sniff* My-my grandma also lied to me like that. That I’d be staying with her for good, that everything would be alright, that—that I was safe now, and that I wouldn’t be hurt again. I-I get it. She just wanted me to be happy, j-just like you, and I still love her so much. It’s okay, I-I promise...~”
The words burst a dam deep inside Aria’s mind, her pathetic self-pity overpowered by her innermost protective impulse. Anne was psychiced onto her lap in an instant as the Gardevoir embraced her tightly, as tightly as her weak physical body could muster, her own bitter tears running down her cheeks.
“^I-I’m so sorry Anne. I’m sorry you had to lose that certainty, and I wish so much I could provide it like you deserve, like everyone deserves. I wish I could promise you that the vote will go well, that nothing bad will happen again, that you’re truly safe here, but—I don’t want to lie to you again...^”
The two held each other in a tight, teary mess as they fought with their own and the others’ despair, its sheer volume enough to make Aria feel weak. Despite it, though, despite her own guilt in this, despite her own weaknesses... Aria wanted to be there for Anne. To be someone she could have utter trust in, someone she could rely on to protect her, to shelter her, to—to love her.
“~I-I don’t blame you for l-lying, Mrs. Aria. I wanna believe that everything is g-going to be alright, but... I’m so scared. I don’t want to die...~” Anne whimpered.
“^I-I know sweetie, and I wish I could say with certainty that nothing will happen to you. I’ll do absolutely everything in my power to make sure it won’t come to that, that much I can promise.^”
Words alone mattered for so very little, and Aria was well aware of that fact. Despite that, they seemed to be enough for now, enough to at least let the human shake her fear of death off in the immediate moment. Enough for her to gradually calm down, breath by breath, to focus on something else than that absolute worst-case scenario. She was still scared, so scared now that the safety was no longer the guarantee Aria had previously portrayed it was, but... she would manage.
Or at least, so she hoped.
Their mutual embrace gradually loosened up with the absolute worst of their fear being behind them, letting Aria grab her bearings and Anne distract herself with something else in the room. With how sparsely it was decorated, there wasn’t all that much to focus on instead of her ever grim fears, the girl’s attention inadvertently ending up with the bags—bags with Mrs. Graham’s coat and her items in it of unknown origin. Anne spoke up, “~M-Mrs. Aria?~”
The Gardevoir’s soft, tingly hand moved from stroking the side of Anne’s head to her cheek as she tried and failed to force the weakest of smiles onto her face. “^Yes, sweetie?^”
“~I-I forgot to ask, wh-where did these bags come from? I think that’s Mrs. Graham’s c-coat...~”
With a quick mental sweep of the nearby area to make sure there wasn’t any other non-Dark type scout in the vicinity, Aria took a deep breath. That one would be a mess to explain, but now more than ever, Anne deserved the entire truth. “^Do you remember when we first talked, and a Luxray ran into the room?^”
“~Mhm. Th-they were really scary...~”
“^Lumi’s a bit of a prick, yeah. He alerted me, because a human looking for you was making their way in our direction and we needed to stop them. That human turned out to be Olive, or I suppose, ‘Mrs. Graham’ as you know her.^”
Anne gasped in surprise at the revelation, not expecting the elderly librarian of all people to undertake such a journey. “~W-was she alright!? She’s so old and...~”
“^Yes, she was; Leo and Luxie made sure of it. We stopped her and ended up talking with her. She talked about you, about everything that had happened to you, and how she wanted to help. Lumi and I took her up on that offer, and she brought us to your house to take the items you had left behind.^”
“~Th-that’s so kind of her...~”
“^It really is.^” Aria smiled weakly, thinking back to their encounter with the old woman. “^She helped us tremendously with all the human things we didn’t understand. It was going well, but... eventually someone showed up. Your father.^”
“~W-were you all alright—~”
“^Yes we were, don’t worry, sweetie. He was an evil person and I’m so, so sorry that he had hurt you so much over the years.^”
Anne nodded her way through the reassurance, breathing deeply into Aria’s front before a detail caught her attention, one she was unsure how to interpret. “~...was?~”
Here we go.
“^Yes, was. He attacked us, and I incapacitated him. Then, at some point later, when Olive was helping us by grabbing books for you... your house caught on fire. I don’t know how and if it had something to do with us, but... your father was still inside it when it happened. The entire building is gone now.^”
Aria remained quiet afterwards, merely waiting for Anne’s reaction. The immediate shock was obvious and expected, but the Gardevoir could only hope that it wouldn’t become a seed for even further despair—
“~Th-that’s... good. E-even if I end up on the streets, it means that I won’t have to go back there.~”
The Gardevoir stared wide-eyed at Anne’s cold calculation of the situation. It was unlike the emotional girl, to an almost unsettling degree. For someone so obviously sensitive to others’ pain to act so detached when told someone burned to death, implied a lot about just how deeply evil said person was.
Anne’s mind was gripped with cold, calculating focus, but Aria couldn’t say the same after the realization hit her. She didn’t comment out loud on it, merely holding the girl that much more tenderly and applying a weak, full-body telekinetic embrace just to make her feel that much safer here. Neither of them said much for a while as the human kept processing it all, eventually returning to her previous headspace with a shudder.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t where the recollection of the excursion into the human village ended. Aria continued, “^After Olive was done helping us, I... I did something I agreed on previously, when me and others were discussing what to do with Olive. They wanted me to wipe her memories of us, to maintain our secrecy. I pretended to do it, and asked her and her friends to promise us they wouldn’t tell anyone of us, or of you being under our protection.^”
As relieving as the last remark was, the topic the response had brought up immediately threw all the more fuel into the flames of Anne’s fear. She hadn’t even considered her memories might’ve been manipulated, and now that the subject had been breached, it was all she could think about. How could she even know if it had happened to her—
“^Nobody has tampered with your memories Anne, I promise.^”
The Gardevoir wanted to say more, say so much more. To reassure the girl that as long as she stood, she wouldn’t let anything like that ever come to her, that she wouldn’t ever hurt her the way Cinder had hurt Ember, but... could she even make that promise? What if it would truly come down to the worst possibility, what if the vote failed and her nightmare came true, what if she really had to violate her mind and surgically remove the only happiness the girl had known in so long just for their own selfish protection?
Aria didn’t know, and it terrified her. She tried to explain, “^After what had happened to Ember, I doubt anyone else would be eager—^”
The psychic’s sudden pause had startled Anne almost as much as the implication of something terrible having happened to Ember. Despite all the fear still writhing in her head, she had to know what Aria meant there, opening her mouth to speak—just in time for the vixen in question to shamble into the room, glistening tears flowing down her cheeks.
“~E-Ember!~” Anne gasped.
The Braixen dashed over to the pair before Anne could even slide off Aria’s lap, holding them both tight as soon as she could. The human wasted no time in shuffling on Aria’s lap so that her best friend could join her there and embrace her as tight as she could, which Ember immediately did. Aria kept watch of what was happening inside the fox’s mind, trying to figure out whether more horrible acts had happened overnight.
And instead, only found the betrayal of yesterday, still hurting so intensely.
In no time, the two girls were holding each other as tight as possible with the Gardevoir embracing them both, deeply wanting to protect them from any further harm. She rationally knew she was, but... would it ever be enough?
Anne asked, distraught, “~E-Ember, wh-what happened?~”
Aria might have already known the horrors the fox had experienced, but the human didn’t. Ember didn’t feel capable of answering either; telepathic and physical words alike failing to manifest, not with how tired and worn she was. As harrowing as it was, Anne deserved to know. And so, the Gardevoir asked, “^Would you want me to explain, Ember?^”
The fox whimpered at Aria’s soft-spoken question, the realization of having been left out in something big until now unnerving Anne further. The Gardevoir couldn’t blame her either, just hoping that her explanation would prove sufficient and not inspire further despair—even if she knew the latter was almost entirely wishful thinking by now.
After a few more attempts at telepathy that broke down within seconds, Ember finally gave up and leaned on Anne even harder, acknowledging Aria’s question with a single weak nod.
Here goes nothing.
“^Let me go over what happened to Ember during your absence, Anne. In short, Cinder, Ember’s adoptive mother, had erased her memories of you. It was only a couple of days ago that through Marco’s and Autumn’s intervention, did she restore them and remember you again. Yesterday evening, after you had gone to sleep, Cinder finally confessed to Ember about what she’d done.^”
As much as Anne’s focus laid with comforting her friend to the fullest extent possible, the actions described still terrified her. Aria’s description of what had almost happened to Mrs. Graham was already scary, to hear that her best friend, someone she’d spent half her life with and loved more than anyone else on the planet, just didn’t remember her was...
It was too much to imagine.
The last of Anne’s restraints was broken, plunging her into full-blown weeping as she clung to Ember and Aria alike. She was so sorry for Ember; she wanted to comfort her so much, but deep down, she was terrified. Indescribably terrified of that possibility, of being made to forget her best friend, of having nobody to live for, of being left alone with no memory of this place, of Ember, maybe even of her grandma. She just wanted to live and be safe; why were people so mean, human and mon alike? She had done nothing to earn all that pain, and neither had her friend!
Aria’s arms shook as she inadvertently eavesdropped on Anne’s pain and terror, feeling more powerless than ever. Regardless of how truthful she was, regardless of how hard she’d tried to protect her and ensure that the horrors she was imagining wouldn’t come to pass... there still was a chance they would, after all. That despite all her efforts, two innocent children would still be inflicted with unspeakable pain because of others’ paranoia.
By her hand, no less.
Would she ever be able to live with herself if that came to pass? With the knowledge that she was the executioner of two lives that had already experienced so much suffering? Aria didn’t know, and the more she thought about it, the more uncertain she was about that most harrowing of outcomes. Another nightmare, one without the blissful escape of waking up.
If that worst-case scenario came to pass, if she refused to fight for their safety beyond the confines and rules of the council vote, if she yielded to hurt and injustice because to do otherwise would be to invite more trouble for herself…
Would she really be any better than Cinder?
The thought snapped something deep inside Aria.
Her innermost nature, the drive to protect others, the part of herself that made her a Gardevoir, it had enough. It reached out from the root of her brain and grasped her head, subsuming all other thoughts with a grip of freezing clarity. Incomparably more effective than any Calm Mind, especially as it arrived at the obvious solution to all their terror, and held the two scared girls tighter.
“^I will not let that happen again.^”
Something she could promise, something she had to promise, something Anne and Ember alike deserved from her. A gambit that was likely to backfire in so many ways, but simultaneously her only real option. She continued, “^When we first spoke, Anne, I promised you that this would be your home until you had somewhere to go. And I’m intending to keep that promise for both of you, no matter what the council says.^”
The sudden, unflinching conviction in the Gardevoir’s words took Anne aback, startling her out the worst of her loathing, especially with what they implied. She was used to promises that would eventually falter. They were only normal, but Aria clearly meant hers in a very deep way, her telepathy having gained an imposing, downright commanding tone. Ember was similarly surprised; the girls’ focus squarely on the Gardevoir as they chewed through what Aria’s words really meant.
They wanted them to be true, but... “~W-wouldn’t you get in trouble?~” Anne asked, worried. “~I-if everyone w-wants me gone, then they won’t like you keeping me anyway...~”
“^Then they’ll have to take you over my dead body.^”
“~N-no! I-I don’t want you to get hurt like that. E-especially not for me, you shouldn’t, I-I’ll toughen it out, I—~”
“^Anne.^”
Aria’s calm, yet imposing voice stopped the human’s panicking train of thought dead in its tracks, the entirety of her attention drawn up to the Gardevoir. “^I can do it. You were terrified of my strength when we first properly met, and what’s a better reason to use it than to protect someone?^”
“~I... I just don’t want you getting hurt because of me. I don’t want others having to h-help me again because of my fault—~”
“^But this is not your fault. You have done nothing wrong, Anne.^”
“^Y-y-yeah!^” Ember woofed, her affirmation only redoubling Anne’s shaking embrace as worries continued to bubble inside her head.
“^If the absolute worst comes to pass, if this village and its people would rather sentence you to death and Ember to further suffering, to where they’d rather set out to harm me than let you live, then I’ll know with certainty that this is no longer the village I settled in all those years ago. That it has been deeply rotten since then, that it has overgrown with the same injustice it seemed to escape from. I will be glad to leave it.^”
“~B-but what about y-your family?~” Anne whimpered.
Now that was a harder question to answer. Harder, but not impossible.
“^They will understand. We’ve all been trying to help you however we can, and none of us will sit by idly while the council tries to leave you out to die. If it takes uprooting ourselves to keep you two safe, then that’ll simply be what it takes.^”
The unflinching conviction in Aria’s words and tone didn’t leave Anne much room to argue. An ironclad shield of cold certainty, contrasting her usual warm shroud of comfort. Something the girls needed so much more in the moment, something still worrisome to consider despite that.
Both of them wanted it to be true. Both of them wanted that utter conviction that things will be alright no matter what, something that life already took from Anne once and from Ember twice; their souls hungered for it, and yet... “~A-are you sure, M-Mrs. Aria? I-I’m just some stranger human, we haven’t even talked that much...~”
“^Isn’t that what anyone with a shred of heart would do? An injured child out in the cold, about to bleed and freeze to death. Why wouldn’t I do what I can to save you?^”
As opposed to the last time Anne heard these words, her mind didn’t reach towards judging their truthfulness. Everything she’d heard and felt from the Gardevoir made her unable to doubt the utmost certainty in her plan, scary as it was. No, instead, her worries reached inward. Was she even worthy of so many people having to do so much just to protect her miserable, unimportant self—
“^Y-you’re n-not unimportant!^” Ember’s shaky telepathy cut in, melting through Anne’s self-doubt as the vixen held her tighter. Held, and wept, “^I-I want you to be happy Anne, a-and so does Mrs. Aria! I know it’s a lot, b-but... could you do it f-for me?^”
It took Anne’s entire composure to not break down there and then again as she looked the vixen in the eye, her tearful, pleading expression hitting her even harder than the mental words. Aria wasn’t any more willing to mess with the girl’s mind now than she was in the past, but... she had an idea that could help.
The Gardevoir let go of the Braixen as she reached an arm around them both, leaving her hand facing up beside them.
Ready to be grasped.
The intent was obvious, as was the patience in Aria’s expression. Bit by bit, she felt the icy grip from earlier wane. The certainty it brought remained, but not without warmth this time.
Anne kept struggling with her emotions, simultaneously wanting the utter safety Aria promised and finding herself unworthy of its price. She had no idea what to do, feeling paralyzed in a struggle with her own doubt and loathing.
This time, however, she wasn’t alone. Ember’s warm paw grasping the side of her hand took Anne out of her mute conflict, glasses-clad eyes refocusing on the fox’s expression. Still tearful, still pleading, but now with a much clearer intent and a weak smile, framed by tears.
“^D-do you trust me, Anne?^” Ember asked, her mental voice barely a whisper and utterly eclipsing everything in the human’s mind simultaneously.
Despite how much she struggled with what she should think about herself... what she thought about Ember, and her love for her, was very clear. “~Y-yes, I do, Ember.~”
The vixen nodded, her shaky smile growing larger. Her paw slowly dragged Anne’s hand towards Aria’s waiting hand. A part of Anne wanted to withdraw it, to reject this insanity, to accept what a part of her felt like she deserved—but the part of her that knew what she desired held the reins for just long enough for her hand to touch the Gardevoir’s.
Silken smooth, almost electric to the touch. Feeling like it could protect her against the entire world. Emanating an odd, emotional warmth. Safety. Refuge.
Love.
“^It’s okay Anne, you’re safe. Take as much time as you need.^”
Even without the Gardevoir’s more explicit aid, Anne felt her body and mind alike gradually calm down with each passing moment. The fear, the panic, the utter despair of her life being on the line, all of those faded away, bit by bit. She didn’t have to fear; she didn’t have to panic, her life wasn’t on the line.
She felt safe again.
By then, Aria had returned to normal, holding both girls’ hands as she chewed through just what she’d promised. The more she thought, the more she worried that the pressure of it all would make her buckle, that she’d shatter under the possibility of it all... the more confident she felt. She searched her mind far and wide for any doubt, for any hesitancy, for any selfish desires that would overpower her wish for Anne’s safety should the worst come to pass, and found none.
Doubly so with how unrealistic that absolute worst-case scenario was.
She’d known the rest of the council for years, and none of them felt like the sort that would put their own life at risk and fight her just for needless bloodshed. Granted, if this entire mess had shown anything, it was that many of said group were willing to dispose of any morals when it came to dealing with humans, but… she still hoped that seeing the living person they would sentence as opposed to an abstract human out there at the clinic would sway them.
Her conviction made sure she wouldn’t have to rely on hope, but having some of it on hand wouldn’t hurt, either. “^How are you feeling, Anne?^” she asked, her mental voice back to normal.
The weary girl perked up at that welcome change, her answer as simple as it was truthful, “~I’m... I-I think I’m okay. I... th-thank you, Aria.~”
“^You’re very welcome, sweetie.^”
Aria’s steadily growing smile was soon matched by a weaker, but just as genuine one on Anne’s face. Even despite all the reassurance and promise, though, the Gardevoir seemed it fit to put the whole situation in its proper context again. “^And, again, all what I’ve described is the very worst-case scenario. One that I’m rather sure won’t come to pass.^”
The two girls nodded in unison at the affirmation, the calmness letting them absorb that reassurance much more effectively. “~Wh-when will that vote happen?~” Anne asked.
“^In the evening, after sundown. I... forgot to mention something important about it earlier, I apologize.^”
Anne blinked as she leaned closer on the Gardevoir, more curious than worried. “~Oh?~”
“^One elder requested that you be present for it. You’d be with me the entire time. I don’t know why she asked for you to be there, and I don’t like it either. Don’t feel forced to agree, I can figure something out if you’d rather—^”
“~I-I can go.~”
There was a bit of uncertainty in Anne’s voice, one she was trying her hardest to fight through. Yes, she was uncertain; yes, she didn’t like it; yes, she’d rather not, but—she would be there with Aria. And nothing bad would happen with Aria watching over her.
The Gardevoir only barely held her tears in at sensing that thought, deeply hoping it would be earned this time. “^Th-thank you, Anne. No matter what she’s planning, I imagine that your presence there will help in other ways. One would hope it’ll be harder for them to vote for someone’s exile if they have to see that someone.^”
“~Y-yeah, heh...~” Anne chuckled, cementing her truly feeling better in Aria’s mind. The Gardevoir closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths; tried to process through all that just happened—
Only for the girl to let go of her hand and hug her as tight as she could once more, Ember following in tow. This time, with no more fear, no more doubt, only gratitude, confidence, and...
Love.
“~Thank you for wanting to protect me, Aria,~” Anne whispered.
Aria joined in on the group embrace, gently stroking both girls’ backs as the trio gathered their bearings. “^Thank you for giving me another chance, Anne.^”
Despite everything, despite all the pain, despite all the fear, for once even Aria could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Should the worst come to pass, being forced to leave their village wouldn’t be a happy outcome, but would be incomparably better than having to be the enforcer of its cruelty. Plenty terrifying in its own way, but... they would all figure it out, no matter what.
Aria was sure of it.
