With or Without
Wherever Juno plans on traveling with Dione, his attitude is simultaneously unrestrained excitement and cryptic discretion; he tells Seraph he cannot disclose all the details, but to trust him when he says it will be very interesting to see for himself. With the clock running down to her final hours here, Seraph finds it nearly impossible to mirror this energy anymore, managing only to smile and agree that she probably would find it interesting, if only she knew what he was talking about.
As was so often the case, Juno’s absorption in the task at hand kept him too distracted to pay Seraph’s waning investment any heed, yet for one reason or another, Dione’s attention mysteriously piqued. Seraph notices her pacing around, keeping an eye on Seraph while Juno rushes around packing a day bag full of last-minute essentials he only just thought to take along.
When Juno leaves the tree to access the root cellar for some extra rations, Dione takes the opportunity to make a more aggressive move on Seraph than she would in his presence. Backed into the kitchen, Seraph faces Dione’s many furious eyes for the second time since they met.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Dione croons, mocking Juno’s sweeter inflection. “You seem so agitated today. Watching Juno like a coyote watches the flock of a sheepdog - what are you planning?” Her glowering face moves closer to Seraph, hot breath against her turned cheek.
Though her heart jumps at the thought of being so suddenly caught, Seraph need only remind herself that Dione has proof of nothing, and is relying on a fear response. Seraph grips the counter behind her, and meets Dione’s malevolent gaze evenly. “Coyotes know it best, but there are a lot of wolves wandering around in sheep’s clothing. You don’t scare me. I’ve met a thousand monsters worse than the likes of you.”
Dione’s face flushes bright with rage or shame, or perhaps both, but she recoils a moment later, almost appearing to diminish in size as she does. “But we can’t trust our kind, can we?” She retorts, as though trying to excuse her suspicion, as if that were even necessary.
Still, Seraph can relate - and Dione isn’t wrong. “No, I guess not,” Seraph agrees, and it seems to diffuse the tension just in time for Juno to return.
In just a glance between the two of them, he evidently catches onto something, but at a stern look from Dione, he opts not to press the issue. Seraph spends the rest of the day in her room, trying not to shake so bad. Certainly, Dione does not scare her, not in the way Dione maybe prefers, but if she worked out the truth, and it got back to Juno? That scares Seraph.
From the little bedroom window, Seraph watches Juno and Dione go. The moment their forms vanish into the trees, she flies down the stairs, her wings and legs carrying her light and quick to the door of Juno’s lab. It opens and closes in quick succession, just long enough for Seraph to let herself in. She presses her back against it, breathing hard, and after a few moments to let herself relax, her gaze drops to Hollow’s static pose.
“Hello, Seraph.” It greets her, calm as the eye of a storm, undisturbed by her sudden intrusion. “What hurries you?”
Seraph drops to her knees, and crawls across the floor to join Hollow, chuckling with some amount of unbidden anxiety. “I’m sorry, it’s just getting hard to, to chill out around those two I-I guess,” she sits crossed legged before him, and continues, “I guess I’m feeling a little, um, desperate. To be quite honest.”
“Your honesty is appreciated.” Hollow smiles with a subtle flap of its ears. “So then, I need to make a decision.” This it speaks in a quieter voice, and its eyes turn away from Seraph.
Biting her lip, Seraph nods once. “I’m afraid so. We still have a few hours to talk about it, at least. Ask me any questions, if you need to. That’s why I’m here.” She gives Hollow a warm look of reassurance, leaning in the direction of its tilted head to make sure it sees her.
The eyes along Hollow’s chest move to glance at her, and after a few seconds, Hollow nods in acknowledgement. “To be clear. I am thinking about saying yes.” Its body straightens, and its head turns to face her again. “However, as you might understand, this is a lot to face. A big change.” Its fingers begin drumming across its knee - was it mirroring her own nervous habit, now?
“That’s very true,” Seraph agrees, eyes traveling across the small space around them, reflecting on how enormous the whole world could feel in comparison. The furious gaze of the gamite catches her eyes briefly, causing a shiver to run down her spine, and she quickly refocuses on Hollow.
“Have you learned where Midas will go next?” Asks Hollow, and some of its own eyes seem to trace in the direction of the gamite.
Seraph’s nose scrunches, and she shakes her head. “Unfortunately, I haven’t had contact with him since we moved here. I planned to visit him tonight, catch up on what he’s up to. I think he’d be interested to meet you! Ira too; xe’s really sweet, and we’d be ‘multi eyes’ gang together!” She laughs despite the sense of dread hanging over her.
This appears to interest Hollow, who leans forward, ears bobbing up and down. “Ira is like me?” It brings its hands, palm up, to its face, perhaps observing the eyes there.
Seraph wonders if the myriad perspectives ever cause dizziness or confusion - her extra pairs, though situated on her wings, only ever look forward if they look at all. She imagines what it might feel like, to look at herself, and for her self to look back.
“In more ways than one,” Seraph responds, noting their shared quietness, their polite conversation, and even curiosity. “I think you would get along.”
Seraph’s two pairs of ears twitch at a jingle behind her. In the next moment, she stands facing the door, wings spread wide between Hollow and the door. From across the room, hand still holding the edge of the door, Juno stares back at her. Bright eyes glow with shock, but behind that Seraph senses a blooming anger. The other hand hanging at his side starts to shake until he clenches it. Slowly, his parted mouth starts to stretch into a grimace, displaying sharp gritted teeth, just like those of a-
“Monster,” Seraph whispers the work, holding back tears of fear and rage. The uttered word makes Juno pause. The opening pushes her into action.
With a ferocious cry, Seraph bolts for the gamite’s glass enclosure, ignoring its growing agitation. Seizing it, she lifts the heavy container over her head, turning with great effort to face Juno, and hurls it at his feet. The glass shatters and screams. Seraph does not wait to see what happens next; she takes Hollow’s hand and pulls it from the room past Juno’s wailing body.
In the tiny hall beyond, Seraph pushes Hollow towards the front door. “Run to the trees; I’ll be with you in a minute or two - go!” She can already hear Dione raging down towards them; she rushes up the stairs before Hollow can respond, hoping to draw the angered daiten away from it.
Sure enough, she meets Dione in the axis between the kitchen and library. Both pause momentarily at the sight of each other, but neither speaks before immediately engaging in a ferocious game of wolf versus coyote. The smaller of the two, Seraph uses her maneuverability to evade Dione’s wild attacks, knocking aside furniture and tearing up the walls and floors with total disregard.
Seraph makes it up the stairs to her room, slamming the door closed and buying herself enough time to grab her packed back from the bedside. She makes for the window, then curses herself for leaving it closed on this night of all nights. The door explodes in a hail of splinters just as Seraph opens the window to squeeze out. Just as she begins to drop down to a branch, Dione’s claws catch on the collar of her coat, stopping her with a sudden choking hold.
A frightening wail erupts from below, and for the first time since she did it, Seraph thinks about Juno’s fate. Fear of Dione’s retribution drives her to claw at the fabric of her own coat, straining against the arresting collar, until at last she severs the coat and frees herself. Her body strikes the branch below, but she manages to right herself and take wing across the clearing. In the near absolute dark, she barely makes out the reflected light from the treehome on Hollow’s shiny skull, and she lands, pained, beside it.
“Take my hand?” Before, she gave Hollow no choice. Before, she gave Hollow an order. Now, with the thought of Dione bearing down on them both, Seraph pauses to give Hollow the final chance to decide.
A small hand takes hers without hesitation. Together, they dive into the line of the trees, hands clasped tightly. Seraph focuses her weak magic on all the remaining living plants, willing them - begging, even - to cooperate, to aid their escape and cover their passing. For a long time they ran, even after Seraph could no longer hear the anguished screaming from the wretched basement.
Finally, Hollow stumbles, its hand breaking free to catch its fall. “I-I’m sorry,” it gasps, trying to stand again quickly, but its legs shake and give out again.
Seraph immediately drops beside it, shaking her head. “No, no that’s okay. It’s okay. We should be safe - for now.” She helps Hollow upright, and leads it beneath a stand of scrub oaks. Using the last of her exhausted magic, she weaves the spindly limbs into a bower above them, making a shelter to keep snow and meltwater off them.
Emotions crash over her as a wave on the beach. She pulls Hollow closer, for warmth and comfort, and tries to stifle a sob. Hollow reaches up to touch her face in the dark.
“It’s okay. I think… I’m crying, too. But I don’t know why.” Hollow shivers, and holds her closer.
Seraph only nods, unable to speak, but comforted by the sentiment all the same. After a few minutes of sniffling and less than silent crying, she finally finds the strength to reassure Hollow in return.
“We’re going to be okay, I think.” She pats the back of Hollow’s smooth head. “I promise I will take care of you as best as I can. Tomorrow, we’ll see Midas and Ira, and… they might know what to do.”
Hollow’s ears wiggle against her hand, bringing fresh tears to Seraph’s eyes. You’re smiling, the thought grants her immense relief. For the first time in a long time, she believes it when she says the words. We will be okay. We will. Exhaustion and the comforting shadows of night finally take hold. For the first time in a long time, when Seraph sleeps, her dreams are free of nightmares. For the first time in too long, she is free, and safe, and perhaps more than that, for the first time in a lifetime, she is not alone.
Comments