32.2A: 《Prince》 Diagnosed With [Heart/Home]sick

  

“Ollie!”

Olive’s heart thundered—but he kept walking. 

“Ollie! Lavi!”

Lavi kept walking beside him. If she had heard anything, she didn’t indicate it.

“Hey! Wait up!”

Olive continued focusing on the sidewalk ahead. It was dotted with backpack-wearing students dressed in bright, outrageous, colorful clothing. He wondered if they were competing to see who could dress the most embarrassingly.

Olive wondered who they were. He had recognized Hannah—his classmate from the university—and he, of course, had recognized Claire and Trystan.  

The nurse, the doctors, the people walking around him, he hadn’t known. So… who were they? And more importantly… where did they come from? Were they being held against their will? 

Olive looked up.

It was bright but there was no sun in the sky. Obviously, that was scientifically impossible. Olive was never very interested in studies that looked beyond the skyline, but he’d read enough books to know that the planetary body he was currently standing on had to be revolving around some sort of warm solar mass in order for him to be experiencing this kind of warm weather. That and the many street trees dotting the sidewalk wouldn’t be looking so green and vibrant if there was no sun… so where was it?

And why did everything seem so saturated and bright? Not even Leo nor Pisces was like this. Were there tiny little particles in the air refracting the light in a way that made everything seem rosier? Was he thinking too hard about this?

He waited for a response before remembering that his connection with the others was weaker here. It almost reminded him of how alone he’d felt during the Week of Blindness—except the brightness of everything here made it impossible for him to wallow in his misery.

Olive reached into his bookbag and pulled out the slip of paper his mom had slipped in there. He unfolded it and read what was scrawled:

Period 1 /  Advanced Politics and History / 8:00 – 8:50
Period 2 / Advanced Calculus 10 / 9:00 – 9:50
Period 3 / Advanced Ndotoan Physics / 10:00 – 10:50
Period 4 / Lunch / 11:00 – 11:50
Period 5 / 12:00 – 12:50 / Advanced Ndotoan Tree Logic & Reason
Period 6 / 1:00 – 1:50 / Ndotoan Biology IV
Period 7 / 2:00 – 2:50 / Basic Literature V

He had starred periods 1, 3, 5, and 6—basically anything with ‘Ndoto’ in front of it. 

He was suddenly jerked backwards by his bookbag and then pulled into a one arm hug by the neck. It was Claire.

“Didn’t you hear me, Ollie?” Claire shook him a bit. “Are your ears plugged or something?”

Olive froze, mind racing with things he wanted to say, things he wished he had said. But…was this Claire? At the moment, Claire wasn’t giving him the same ominous feeling he had the other day. Still—something wasn’t right.

Intuition, like Jericho always said.

With effort, Olive shrugged him off, tucked away the schedule, and then realized Eunji was standing behind Claire. He glanced between the two and felt something squeeze his chest. He’d heard from Gabrielle that Eunji was ‘normal’ too.  Eunji’s anguished cries when she’d learned about what had happened to Claire still haunted him. 

What was she doing here now? 

***

“So what do you think? Is it as wonderful as you remember?”

Olive looked left then right. A long hallway lined with a seemingly endless stretch of bright green lockers extended into the distance. The green was broken up by ajar doors leading into filled classrooms. The hall itself was crowded with all the people Olive had been walking alongside before. 

Something about it was familiar and nostalgic. As he watched the students filtering in around him and chattering with another, he wondered if a similar scene was playing out somewhere in the Signum he knew. His university peers, the children and adolescents of Aries and other nations—all casually attending classes together with only simple problems to worry about. 

“It’s weirdly peaceful,” Olive muttered.

Claire threw his head back and laughed. He nodded down the hall towards some lockers. There were two girls there: a short-haired one pushed up against the locker and onr with twin braids doing the pushing.  “You think that’s peaceful?” 

Abruptly, the twin-tailed girl shoved her victim aside and approached them with an annoyingly shy smile. She twirled a braid around her finger and said, “Hey, Ollie… Looking good. Welcome back.”

She looked familiar, Olive realized. He vaguely remembered her from the foggy dream-like memories owned by the Olive who was here before him. Nelly Something. A friend?

It churned his stomach: the idea of being on friendly terms with someone like that. Then again, he was on… friendly terms with Derik, and Derik was the type to punch someone for breathing the wrong way. But at least Derik had some sense of honor and respect in his own way. 

Derik…

According to Gabrielle and Hauptmann Weingartner, Derik was either in the Small Services District or had broken out of it. The latter seemed more likely in the context of Derik’s personality—but if that was the case, why hadn’t Derik come to see him? 

“I took notes for you for literature,” Nelly said. “We finished the last book we were reading already.”

“The one about the weapon and the multiple worlds,” Claire explained. “Having to choose and fight to be the only one and all that.”

The premise sounded familiar .

Olive frowned at Nelly and eyed the girl she’d shoved against the lockers. The latter, red-faced, disappeared down the hall. “Was that your friend?”

Nelly didn’t even glance over her shoulder. “That’s Essay Writer, remember? She writes the essays for us for literature. Her writing is stale like she is, but at least she can pull in the grade.”

Olive frowned. “And what do we do for her?”

Nelly snorted and shrugged. “We let her exist even though she’s a loser.”

Was she hearing herself…? 

“It must be nice to not have anything better to do,” Olive muttered, “and to be so bright that you bite the hand that feeds you.”

Nelly smiled then paused. “Wait… what?”

“So funny, right?” Barking a laugh, Claire stepped in between them and threw an arm over Olive’s shoulder. 

Nelly gave a high-pitched and awkward chuckle. “Oh, right. VNW can change your personality, right? I totally get that—”

Olive interjected flatly, “No, VNW makes me more honest—”

“Anyway”—Claire cleared his throat, pulling Olive towards one of the classrooms— “there goes the bell. See you later, Nell!”

A familiar bell rang through the halls as Claire scooted them away. Eunji was a step behind them.

The classroom Claire guided him into was smaller than the lecture halls of Royal Ram University—but seeing all the students in their brightly-colored clothing sitting in their desks and chatting away made the room feel bigger. 

No sooner had Olive been ushered into the classroom, however, was he stopped by a man with wispy brown hair tied into a bun. He wore a pair of glasses that seemed too big for his face, and oddly enough, Olive felt as if he’d recognize the man if those glasses weren’t there. 

“Welcome back, Olive,” the man said,  “Good to see you’re still on two feet.”

“Thanks…” Olive was still trying to place the man’s face. 

“Even with VNW, I’m sure you’re as enthusiastic about my class as always,” the man continued, “but…” He spread his arms. “You know the rules.” He moved Olive privately to the side—although if discretion was his goal, Olive figured he’d failed given the fact that half the classroom turned to watch them. “Your VNW diagnosis places you temporarily back at KM-level 2. Since this class requires a person to be at KM-level 3 to enroll…”

“Seriously?” Olive arched a brow. 

Well, he had considered this happening since even his not-parents had restricted material for him because ‘those were the rules.’ He had just been leaning on the slim possibility that the rule didn’t apply to school courses.

The teacher chuckled. “Seriously. Sorry, Olive. You’re free to have study hall in the library though.”

Which was Olive’s second plan.

“Do you need someone to show you—”

“No, it’s fine.” Olive waved him off and headed towards the door. “I’ll find it—”

A hand around the wrist stopped him short. It was Eunji, her gaze steady. He was used to her looking away shyly whenever their eyes met so he was caught off guard. 

“Let’s meet after school,” Eunji said. 

Olive nodded.

***

It took Olive ten minutes to find the school’s library. 

The entry area housed a small reception desk manned by a girl wearing a large pair of headphones and nodding her head to an unheard beat. Beyond the reception desk was an open area dotted with round tables, and beyond that were rows and rows of wooden bookcases so tightly packed together that just looking at them made Olive feel claustrophobic. 

The girl at the front desk noticed him and brightened. She reached out across the desk and held out her hand. “What’s shakin’, Ollie—”

“Don’t call me that,” Olive said automatically.

The girl just laughed, grabbed his hand, shook it, slapped it left, slapped it right, and fist bumped it. Olive resisted pulling away because his embarrassment was pushed down by a pulse of guilt at the pit of his stomach.

“… thanks.”

He banked right and headed towards the study area. A few tables there were occupied by groups of students pouring over textbooks and notebooks. Only one table—the one at the edge of the study area—was occupied by a sole student. It was the girl who was shoved against the lockers earlier.

Olive hesitated before approaching the girl’s table. Her head was buried in a book, so she didn’t notice him until he rapped on the table’s corner. She jumped, stared, paled. It made his stomach churn.

“O-Olive? What do you need?”

Need?

“Look. I just wanted to ask if you were okay after this morning.”

“If I was… okay?”

“You know… After what Nelly did.”

The girl paled. “Did… Nelly say something?”

“Nothing important,” Olive scoffed. Upon registering the true look of terror on her face, he reassured her: “She didn’t say anything and you shouldn’t care what she thinks.”

The girl remained silent.

Olive sighed. “What’s… your name?”

She became owl-eyed. “It’s…. Rayne… remember?”

“Okay, Rayne,” Olive continued awkwardly. “You do assignments for her or something, right? Write papers?”

“For Nelly… and for Hannah…” Rayne stammered. “… and for you….”

Olive grimaced. “Well, you should stop.”

“Stop?”

“It’s your work. You shouldn’t let other people take advantage of you like that. They reap the rewards from your work, while you’re just left stressed—”

“You don’t think I know that? Do you think I’m an idiot?” Rayne’s face went red. “I can’t believe you’re saying that. You know how much you guys made my life a living hell before I started doing this for you. At least when I write these dumb reports I can get through the day here.”

Olive froze. 

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been confronted like this by someone outside of the five and Derik.

Students from several tables down shushed them. Olive sent them a glare before turning back to Rayne who was now pale.

“I… I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I know you have VNW so you’re confused and I shouldn’t be… uhm… I—”

“No…” Olive muttered. “Don’t apologize. You’re right.” He recalled the feudal lords and their pontifications about moral righteousness right after enacting policies that had gone right against those words. ‘Feel for our people,’ they’d say right after cutting welfare programs. “People who preach while being human disasters are the worst.”

Rayne stammered but said nothing.

“I’m… the one who’s sorry,” Olive apologized. Even though in his mind the Ndoto Olive felt like a separate entity from him, he still felt a sense of responsibility. “You don’t have to accept it obviously.” He frowned. “But I’ll talk to Nelly and we’ll stop forcing you to write those reports.”

Nelly seemed the stubborn type though that wouldn’t give up anything unless something was given in exchange—

Exchange?

“If you want,” Olive tried, “we can write reports for you too. The same amount that we made you write. So that we’re even. It’s the least I could do while I’m still here.”

“No, no,” Rayne rejected his offer so quickly that Olive almost felt insulted. She added, “I’d rather do it on my own. Not that I don’t think you’d write a good report, but—”

“You’d feel better about it if you did it yourself,” Olive concluded. So she was a diligent person.

“Yeah, exactly.” Rayne nodded, studying him carefully. “What do you mean by ‘while you’re here’…?”

Olive didn’t address the question. “You look like you study really hard.” He glanced at the notebooks sprawled across the table. “You must get really good marks then. What are you trying to be?”

Rayne’s face went red for some reason. “A policymaker.” She dipped her head. “Don’t laugh.”

“Do I look like I’m laughing? Why… a policymaker?” 

A politician of all things?

“I-I… Well, there are just things I want to change,” Rayne stammered. “And I think there are a lot of people who aren’t properly represented like the newly registered citizens.” She was on a roll. “We only hear about the successes, but there are a lot of new citizens out there on the outskirts who are taken advantage of by these really shady ‘aid’ organizations that get rewarded VP points for each new citizen they match to a job and they always match the immigrants to low-quality jobs without considering their quality of life and they make it impossible for them to achieve their life goal—” She took in a breath finally.

Olive scoffed. “So you can even find those kinds of people in ‘utopia.’” He paused. “You… seem pretty passionate. Were you affected by them or something?”  

“Uhm, no…” Rayne panted. “But I volunteered in the immigrant outskirts of the Harvest District a couple years ago. The Zwei-mbili culdesac. I saw it myself… Some of them didn’t even know it—that they were being sold short.” Her brows met. “Since I’m already an established citizen… I feel like I have to take responsibility and… help… you know?”

Suddenly, Olive was reminded of Trystan.  “Well, you can take what I say with a grain of salt but… if you want to be a… politician, you should live a day in the life of the people you want to help—which you did so there’s that—” He then thought of the deal with Scorpio “—and you should never… compromise your morals or… be complacent about them to try to achieve your goals. It’ll always bite you in the end.”

Rayne was staring.

Olive flushed. “What?”

Rayne flushed now. “I—well, it’s just… weird hearing you of all people saying that. It’s weird just hearing that in general. You sound straight out of a fantasy novel—like a prince giving a big speech before the fall of an empire.”

Olive frowned. “I’ll use your pessimistic imagination as motivation to recover from VNW faster.” 

“No, no…” She studied him. “I… mean, like, once you recover from VNW, you’ll probably go back to the way you were before and that’s probably what a lot of people want and that’s a good thing but… I don’t think it’s a bad thing for you to stay like this for a little bit. It’s… nice.”

“Thanks for wishing me not to recover,” Olive responded flatly.

“I didn’t mean—oh… you’re being sarcastic. That hasn’t changed…” 

There was a beat of silence.

Great.

“Anyway. I’m trying to find books on Ndoto and the Great Tree. Preferably the ones for adults instead of 12-year-olds. For science,” Olive said. He glanced over at the endless bookshelves. “Do you know where they are?”

“Oh, those are on the second floor.”

There was a second floor? 

“You have to use your KM card to access it though,” Rayne explained, “since you have to be KM-level 3 or higher to read them. Usually only students in advanced classes can go to the second floor…” She studied him carefully.

Olive offered a non-committal grunt before eyeing her trove of notebooks. “You’re KM-level 3, aren’t you…?”

Rayne nodded. 

The idea of asking her for something after his Ndoto-self had clearly been bullying her twisted Olive’s stomach. But—he knew there were people relying on him so not even trying for it was worse than meekly looking to his feet: “Could you… let me up there?”

Rayne froze. “Why…?”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He could find some other way to get up there.

Rayne shook her head. “Wait, no, no, no…” She dipped her head, looked around, and continued in a whisper, “I can open the door for you. I think the new policy is stupid anyways.” 

Rayne quickly gathered her notebooks and put them into her bookbag and zipped everything up. There was a keychain of a smiling face with the phrase DON’T GIVE UP! just below it on the zipper. 

“Come with me.”

Olive followed Rayne into the forest of bookcases. They looped down the fantasy section then a cookbook section and then a science fiction section. The further they went, the less well lit it became. 

“This is creepy,” Olive muttered. “You’re not planning on enacting your revenge on me back here, are you?”

Rayne whipped to him. “What? No.” Her lips pursed. “I’m doing this to thank you. For being nice to me and for stopping the… extortion. Even if it’s all just a VNW thing. I really appreciate it.” 

“I wasn’t being nice to you, Rayne.” Olive frowned. “I was just being a normal person. You shouldn’t be thanking me for not being a terrible person to you.” He paused. “I… really am sorry about the… extortion.”

They looped around another bookcase. Straight down the hall formed by the bookshelves there was a metal door with something Olive somehow recognized as a keypad at its side. A small plastic sign on the door read, ADVANCED STUDENTS ONLY.

“How inclusive,” Olive muttered.

“What exactly are you doing?”

Rayne’s eyes became saucers.

Olive’s heart squeezed at the familiar voice. He turned.

Trystan Carter, dressed in a button up and with a bright red bookbag on his back, stood behind him. He was wearing a rectangular pair of glasses which he pushed up the bridge of his nose before he crossed his arms.

“Students below KM-Level 3 aren’t allowed into the second story of the library,” he said. “You could be written up or get a demerit for breaking that rule.” He pulled out a pad and pencil from his bookbag. “Are you breaking that rule?”

Rayne stammered. “I—no—”

“Yes,” Olive admitted.

Trystan stared. “I… think you mean no.” He turned to Rayne with a frown. “Olive currently has VNW so he doesn’t know any better, but you, Rayne—”

“Oh, I know,” Olive interjected. “This isn’t on Rayne. This is on me. I asked her to.”

“You did?” Trystan’s brows met and something akin to disappointment washed over his face. “I see…”

Olive felt a strong urge to justify himself to Trystan but managed to push the feeling down. “Look… Trystan—” The name caught in his throat.

Trystan frowned. “What? Are you okay, Olive?”

Olive struggled to center himself and instinctively reached out to the others. There was no response, of course, and so he let out a breath. “I’m fine. All I wanted to do is learn more about the Great Tree and about Ndoto.” He gestured to the door. “Don’t you find it weird that you’d stop someone from learning about the country they live in when they’re confused about reality?”

Trystan sighed. “Even if it’s strange, you can’t argue with what the policymakers have put in place. There must be a reason for it we don’t know about or understand yet.”

Olive’s heart sank slightly. That wasn’t like the Trystan he knew at all. Even Claire wasn’t like himself here. It was as if the outline of them was there but there was not enough detail fleshed out.

“Can’t you tell me about it then?” Olive pressed. “I can’t access the reading materials but that doesn’t mean you can tell me about it… right?”

Rayne’s gaze flitted between them. “Well, you do have a point—”

Trystan asked, “What sort of questions do you have?”

Oh?

“How was Ndoto founded? How does the Great Tree give people ‘gifts’?” Olive fired off. “Why is Ndotoan culture obsessed with returning to the tree? Where is the sun? I need facts not lacts.”

“Lacts?”

Olive cleared his throat. “I mean I need details.”

Trystan pinkened in the silence that followed. “Actually, history and Ndotoan physics is not my best subject…” He coughed. “But… I can tell you that the significance of returning to the tree is more of a moral obligation.”

Moral obligation?

“Repaying the tree for what it’s given you,” Trystan explained. He cleared his throat again and glanced at Rayne. “Do you remember anything from history class, Rayne?”

Now, Rayne pinkened. “Well, I don’t recall any dates right off the bat, but Ndoto has been here for a long time. Legend has it that a bunch of nomads found an oasis in the middle of the desert and at the center of that oasis they found a small sapling that bore a single fruit.” 

Nomads? Like Monadism?

“There was a whole argument about who could eat the fruit but there was one person—a gardener among them—that convinced everyone to plant the seed of the fruit,” Rayne recited as if in a stage play. She mimicked a tree blossoming with a hand. “That seed eventually became the Great Tree.”

“Is that legend or history?” Olive arched a brow.

“Sometimes they’re the same thing,” Rayne provided.

Trystan crossed his arms again. Olive resisted rolling his eyes. He clearly was waiting for them to leave. At least that bit of uptightness was familiar—although… was that a good thing?

“What are you doing here anyways?” Olive asked. “Looking for me?”

Trystan stammered. “Well, no, I have study hall in the morning—like Rayne. I need to get calculus done. I’ve been stuck on a problem for the past two days.”

A thought suddenly crossed his mind. It was a random, wistful thought that he knew would not help him understand anything better about his situation. Still, Olive could not help but ask, “Do you… need help with that?”

***

Claire came to drag Olive away from Trystan and Rayne at  lunch time. Olive felt pathetically disappointed upon learning Trystan did not share a lunch period with him. He felt even more pathetic when Trystan rejected his idea to stay and help him further instead of leaving with Claire.

The cafeteria of the school was drab. Long gray tables, pale fluorescent lights, checkerboarded floors. It was the first non-color-saturated room Olive had been in since coming to in Ndoto. The echo of conversations across the many tables was returned tenfold by the high ceiling. 

Olive’s ‘mom’ had packed him lunch so he avoided the long lunch line wrapping around the outer room. Lavi’s lunch had also been packed by their ‘mom’ so she already had her own lunch pulled out in front of her when Claire guided Olive to their table. Eunji was seated just beside Lavi and was nibbling on a cracker. On the opposite side of them sat a boy and a girl Olive vaguely recognized. They smiled at him and offered embarrassing fist bumps. Claire sat Olive down beside Lavi before sitting across from him.

Their table was the central one and by far had the best lighting in the room. Olive supposed that they’d gotten hold of this table through similar to how they had gotten those written reports from Rayne.

“Are you going to eat?” Claire asked.

Olive turned to him and then froze. There was a rice ball in Claire’s hand. The sight of it caused a familiar heaviness to pull down on his chest. He pressed past the feeling and opened his lunch bag. Like Lavi, he had a grilled cheese sandwich, a cup of tomato soup, and a handful of strawberries. He stared at the sandwich quietly as he tried to imagine the mother he remembered making something like this. 

“Are you fighting with your parents or something?” Claire asked. “You’re not touching anything.”

Lavi frowned.

Olive reflected the frown. “Are you being nosey or something?”

“Hey, chill out. I’m just being a good friend.” Claire smiled lopsidedly. “But let me tell you something about family.” He put down his rice ball. “Love them or hate them—it sucks when they’re gone.”

Eunji tensed, glanced at Claire, and then locked eyes with Olive. After setting down her crackers, she asked, “Did you find anything, Olive?”

She was being surprisingly forward again.

“Unfortunately, no,” Olive muttered. He ruminated. “Actually… I was thinking about the laws of vitae and physics earlier.”

Eunji peered at him with interest.

An idea crossed his mind as he spotted Marta cross the room. 

Olive turned to Eunji. “I’ll meet you at the Wibele. If you find any spare parts lying around that you think could be used in conductor engineering, could you grab them for me?”

Eunji straightened and nodded while the others at the table exchanged looks.

He turned to Lavi and hesitated. “Lavi—”

“—has to stay after class to finish a project with me,” Claire interjected. “We’ve been putting it off forever so we really need to get that done. Right, Lavi?”

Lavi’s eyes narrowed but she nodded. “We’ll meet you at the Wibele, Ollie.”

Olive frowned.

“I’ll get her there safely.” Claire waved him off with an amused smile. “I know how it is.”

***

Olive entered the nearest restroom to recollect his thoughts. Inside, there were just two mirrored sinks against the wall opposite of two urinals and two stalls. A brightly colored poster on the side wall depicted a smiling teen flashing a thumbs up with the words SCHOOL IS COOL plastered behind him.

Olive studied his reflection. He hadn’t realized how much he’d enjoy the simple conversations here and how everyone seemed to enjoy talking to him. Sure, it was annoying but it was also nice. His Ndoto-self was…

The door to the restroom creaked open again.

Olive steeled himself for another interaction—

“Prince Chance!” 

Olive whipped around.

Alexander Charming, dressed in a tight red polo and a pair of khaki shorts, bowed at his feet.

“A-Alexander?” Olive ogled the man’s outfit that looked two sizes too small. He motioned the man to stand. “What… are you doing here? Did you follow me?” 

Alexander rose. “Are you—”

“I’m fine.” Olive sighed.

Alexander folded his hands behind his back and dipped his head. “Well, to answer your question, I’ve actually been taking to Peacekeeper Gabrielle’s suggestion of laying low and gathering information. I’ve ordered the knights with me to do this same. I also wanted to assure your safety and since you were and are attending this school, it all worked out.”

Olive hesitated. His thoughts were more in order now compared to when he’d woken up in the hospital, so he could actually think. Think about trust. He’d never even given the concept any thought back when he’d been at the royal palace. Now it haunted him.

He had trusted Trystan—only at the very end—and Trystan had died. 

He’d trusted Claire. Then, Claire had broken his trust and then regained it. Claire had died. 

He had trusted his mother and father and his aunt and his uncle—his family—and… he didn’t even know if he could trust them now. And that went against the definition of trust.

The only certainty he had was in the other five, but they were incapacitated at the moment.

As for Alexander… Even if the man didn’t know about the truth about Lavi and the saint candidates, even if he didn’t know what his parents and his aunt and uncle knew, what would he do… if he did know? And—as Cadence would probably say if she were here—was this the time to tackle it?

The silence between them was suffocating.

“You haven’t told any of the knights about me yet, have you?”

“Not yet,” Alexander said.

“How many of them are there here…?”

“Three.”

Olive frowned. “And you all have been out there… fighting…. for months while I’ve been…. here.” He felt shame flush his face. “I’m sorry.”

Alexander shook his head. “It’s our duty, Your Highness. I’m… just glad you’re safe.”

Duty.

“Alexander.” Olive shook his head and thought of Trystan then of Werner. “Even if it is your duty, it’s…” He struggled. “My duty—the duty of the throne of Aries—is to make it so that you don’t have to do those things. That’s…” He hesitated. “…what I was trying to do before this.”

Alexander paused. “With all due respect, Your Highness, what things are you referring to?  My duty to defend Aries?” He chuckled. “If you take that away from me, then what will I be?”

Olive pointed to Alexander’s outfit. “A soccer coach maybe.”

Alexander laughed again, hands on hips. He stared off into the mirror behind Olive. “You know, Olive, whether it’s in times of peace or war, there will always be knights—soldiers.”

Olive frowned. “I know that. I’m not an idiot.” He thought of the Week of Blindness, of VNW. “People will always be afraid of the unknown and want protection from the unknown.”

Alexander stared.

Olive thought now of Jericho and Werner. “But at least in times of peace you don’t have to worry about dying every single day or losing someone close to you.”

Alexander’s brows met just slightly.

“And you can at least pick up a hobby. Like coaching soccer.”

“I see….” Alexander placed a hand on his chest. “Well, the king and queen are doing their best.”

Olive froze. “Alexander… how much do you know?”

Alexander quirked a brow. “Know? Know about what? This place? Honestly, Your Highness, I think I’m the person most in the dark here. The peacekeepers and Capricornians were talking about a saint candidate and maybe ELPIS being responsible for all of this…? I’m sure you recall from our conversation at the hospital, but they think maybe the Saint Candidate of Virgo is involved?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not questioning their theory but Virgo’s been silent and neutral this entire war. I don’t know.”

Olive asked slowly, “What do you know about saint candidates?”

Alexander appeared caught off guard. “ I’m not particularly Monadic, Your Highness. I don’t know much besides the fact that it’s tradition for the Saint Candidate of Aries to become the head royal guard…” He trailed off and then cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if that was insensitive. Is this… about Lavi?”

Olive’s stomach twisted but he didn’t dwell on the feeling. Realizing he’d asked the wrong question, he let out a breath: “Alexander, please answer me honestly—”

“I’m always honest, Your Highness.”

Olive didn’t doubt that, but— “When you do the things that you do, do you do it for the royal throne or for the people of Aries?”

“As an Ariesian Royal Guard”—Alexander dipped his head and placed a hand over his heart— “my duty is and always has been to the Ariesian throne.”

Olive’s heart sank but something pushed him onwards: “And if the throne orders you to make the people of Aries your duty instead?” 

“Is… this a philosophical question?” Alexander inquired. 

Olive didn’t answer. 

Alexander didn’t either—at least not for a while. “If the crown orders me to redirect my duties, then of course I’d oblige.” He remained smiling, charming.

“And… what would you do if the throne were to put themselves before the people? What if the throne was corrupt and the people suffered for it?”

Alexander’s charming smile slid away. “Why are you asking this? Did something happen…?”

Olive remained silent again.

Alexander’s gaze became distant. “To me, Prince Chance, the throne and Aries are one and the same.”

Olive felt his ears ring as his mind flitted through the possibilities for Alexander’s reasoning. Was it his sense of honor? A political motivation? Could he change the man’s mind—

“Your Highness?”

Olive shook himself. 

Regardless of Alexander’s answer, at the moment he was sure they shared the same goal. To get out of this place. And Alexander… was a good person.

Good person.

Olive hesitated. “Have you seen Atienna… Imamu? The Virgoan advisor?”

Alexander’s brows rose and he shook his head. “Would you like me to find her for you? I don’t think she’s particularly close to the peacekeepers or Capricornians, but I could still ask around.”

Olive felt his heart drop slightly. “No, it’s fine.” He sighed. “Anyway, I’m going to try building a vitae spectrophotometer.”

Alexander’s brows rose but he clearly was relieved at the change in topic. “That’s that new conductor tech that Marta John invented, right?”

Olive paused at the name. “Yes… I wouldn’t call it new though. It’s been out for a while. I think it’s more accurate to call it…” He let out a breath. “…revolutionary…”

“It reads the color of vitae or something, right? Olive?”

Olive shook himself. “Exactly. I want to test the vitae here—assuming the device works the way it’s supposed to and the laws of physics and vitae haven’t been inverted or something. Anyways, I need to find the parts first.” He eyed Alexander. “I know we left off on the wrong foot the last time we spoke in Scorpio,  but I could really use your help finding the parts. Will you… help me?”

Alexander’s brows rose. “Thank you for being so considerate, Olive.” He finally flashed a smile again. “I would be glad to help, Your Highness.”

The bathroom stall behind Olive abruptly swung open. A student Olive didn’t recognize slowly stepped out and gave both Olive and Alexander a look over before rushing out of the bathroom.

Olive sighed.

They headed out the bathroom and down the empty hall towards the school’s entrance. If his very faint Ndoto memory served correctly, it would be pretty easy to slip out without notice.

“Chance!” came a voice.

Olive turned and noticed a familiar man behind them. It was that one teacher who had turned him away during his first period class. Olive glanced at Alexander to signal him to keep a low profile but froze upon registering Alexander’s expression. 

Alexander was pale, his jaw clenched tight, his fist balled, his stance tense.

“Oh, Alex.” The man acknowledged Alexander with a friendly smile. “What are you and Olive up to?”

Alexander remained silent, staring.

Olive cleared his throat. “Alex—Coach Charming was letting me out for some air. I’ve been feeling… light-headed from my VNW”—he didn’t even know if that was a thing— “so he was… going to let me out… for some air.”

Olive figured Cadence would rate his performance a 4 out of 10 if she was being generous.

The teacher’s brows rose. “Oh, alright then.”  He nodded at Alex. “Let’s catch up tomorrow then.”

Olive had to pull Alexander away.

***

It was still bright outside despite the lack of sun so Olive found himself squinting and holding up his hand as soon as they exited the building.

They were halfway out the entrance to the school’s courtyard when Olive decided to address the subject:  “Alexander… who was that?”

“Who was who?”

“The man who stopped us earlier,” Olive drew slowly, watching how Alexander’s expression tightened. “Obviously he knew the Ndoto version of you, but it looked like you knew him too.”

Alexander remained silent.

“Alexander?”

The man looked away briefly. “That was Emil. He was an old friend. We were knighted together.”

Knighted together? ‘Was’…

Olive didn’t really know much about Alexander’s past. He was almost afraid to. It always seemed like by the time he got to really know someone, they ended up parting ways. 

“Do you,” Olive tried, “want to talk about…?”

Alexander stared at him. “Talk about it?” 

Olive struggled for a moment. “Yeah, talk about it… if you want. It can help.”

Alexander stared a bit more before he laughed heartily. He patted Olive’s shoulder and looked back at the school. After a while, he said, “Emil was the knight selected to be the head royal guard before me. He was meant to be yours.”

Olive frowned. “So he’s your senior?”

“No, I’m actually older than him. He was a bit of a prodigy. I’m sure you understand.”

“I really don’t.”

 Alexander chuckled. “But you know how it is when you want to settle down. It’s just that… it’s better to let things go too early than too late.” His brows met. “Do you have any theories, Your Highness?”

What? 

“On… what?”

“On what the motivation is behind making these things appear in front of us.”

“People not things,” Olive muttered. 

He eyed the sunless sky before his eyes were drawn to a bulletin board across the road. Depicted on its surface was Cadence, ginger hair flowing, pale skin glowing, offering a wink. He balked at the sight of it but paused as he read the bubbly letters at the bottom left of the board: Cadence Foxman’s New Hit Single ‘Please Stay’!

“Let’s just go.”

They exited the school grounds.

The silence between them felt awkward especially since Olive didn’t have the other five truly with him to fill in the quiet. Alexander, head held high, gaze scanning the empty street, didn’t appear to notice the awkwardness at all. Or maybe he was ignoring it. 

As they rounded the corner, Olive tried, “Alex—”

“Olive! Wait!”

Olive’s ears rang as he stopped and turned.

Trystan, backpack slung over his shoulder, hair plastered against his face by sweat, pounded up to them. 

“Trystan…” Alexander whispered.

“Coach Charming,” Trystan greeted Alexander awkwardly. “What’s… going on?” He thumbed back to the school. “Your classes. Practice. After school. Today.” He glanced at Alexander again before he said quietly, “If you have another unexcused absence, you’ll get detention. Or worse: they won’t let you be class president anymore and they’ll make you sit out of soccer.”

Alexander continued to stare.

Not much a covert operator, Olive thought. “Coach Charming is just helping me with an assignment for school.”

“An assignment?” Trystan’s eyes narrowed. “For what class?”

“Why are you so interested?” Olive returned more sharply than he intended.  He missed it: Trystan’s stubborn protectiveness, his too serious approach to things, his too serious sense of honor. But even so, he felt uneasy around this Trystan: the uncertainty of the identity of this Trystan and the possibility of dragging this Trystan to the same fate as his Trystan.

“I—” Trystan studied him for a moment. “Because you’re my friend and I’m worried about you and with soccer and student council—”

Olive felt faint. “Well, I quit being class president and soccer captain. How about that?” 

Trystan paled. “You won’t mean that. You don’t. Once you get out of your VNW, you’ll totally regret even saying that. Do you know how hard you worked to become captain and class president? This is just the VNW talking.” He looked up at Alexander. “Coach, please tell him.”

Equals. He was talking to him like they were equals.

Olive felt a familiar anchor weight down his chest at the thought.

“I—” Alexander stared at Trystan. “I trust in the prince—Olive’s—discretion.”

Trystan gave Alexander a look that made it clear he didn’t think Alexander was normal. 

“Why are you so pushy? What? Are you feeling guilty?” Olive interjected. “I don’t want your pity.” 

Trystan looked as if he had been slapped. It was a familiar expression to Olive. He’d seen it many times before whenever he pushed others away with his words. He was making the same mistake, he realized, over and over again. Unless this was an opportunity?

“I.. didn’t mean it like that,” Olive amended. “Sorry. I appreciate you being worried but it really is fine. I’m just doing an assignment. You should get back to class—”

“Well, then, let me help,” Trystan interjected. 

“No, no”—Olive put up his hands— “you have your classes, right? It’s fine. Alexander is here. And you don’t want to get in trouble.”

“It’s—” Trystan hesitated for a very long time. “It’s… fine.”

“It doesn’t sound like it’s fine.”

“It is,” Trystan insisted. “I know you don’t want me to help, but I want to help. Whatever the assignment is, it’ll be faster to finish with more hands on deck.” He pressed on when Olive opened his mouth, “And if you don’t need my help then I’ll go back to my classes. But I’ll remind the principal—since you’re implying he already knows—that you’ll be out for the day. That way he can notify your parents so they won’t be worried that you’re out wandering aimlessly with VNW. That should be fine. Right?”

Olive froze as his parents’ faces flashed through his mind. They weren’t his parents—not really—but in a way, because of that, he felt even more concerned about them. It was that heavy sense of responsibility again—one that he knew that some of the other five would chalk up to naivety. 

That aside—the Trystan he knew definitely was not this manipulative. No, what Trystan was was easily manipulated. Trystan had been too good for him, and Olive knew he’d appreciated him too late.

Alexander stepped between them with a raised hand. “Listen, Olivier wishes—”

Olive let out a slow breath. “It’s… fine. You’re right.” He eyed Alexander. “It’ll be faster with more hands.”

Alexander studied Trystan. Pain knit his brows for a fleeting moment, and in that moment Olive recalled that it was Alexander who had introduced him to Trystan. What exactly had been their history…?

“Are you sure?” Alexander asked. 

It was more like the man was trying to ask him, ‘Do you trust this person?’ However, given by Alexander’s earlier tone, it was more along the lines of, ‘Do you trust this thing?’

Olive held a sigh. “It’s fine.”

***

The three of them wove in and out of the bright alleyways on the way to the Wibele.

When they had initially started weaving through the alleys, the streets had been empty. Now—as if a switch had been flipped—they were crowded by chattering Ndotoans. The crowds were so great that they had to take alternate routes around the blocks just to get around them.  The paranoid part of Olive made him feel like he was being forced to go a certain way. 

If only they had a Conjuror on hand that could actually do their conducting here. Then they wouldn’t have to go through all of this in search of scrap metal.

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” Trystan asked suddenly.

“What? Why?”

“My parents want you to come over for dinner on Sunday,” Trystan explained, “as a thank you. You and your family.”

Olive’s mind went to Trystan’s parents. He stopped short. “A thank you?”

“For… you know… saving me,” Trystan explained. “I know a dinner seems like a small thank you but…”

Olive’s ears began ringing as the nausea that he’d felt at the hospital returned. Trystan thanking him for saving his life? Trystan’s parents thanking him? It was a complete role reversal, and he knew he didn’t deserve the gratitude. 

“—-okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Trystan was suddenly in front of him. He turned to Alexander. “Coach, maybe we should call it a day and let Olive go home. If you know what Olive is looking for, we can get the things he needs instead.”

“No,” Olive interjected. “I’m fine. I’m just annoyed—not at you.” 

Olive glanced at the group of teenagers standing at the mouth of the alleyway in front of them. There was another opening to the alley a few meters down that was uncrowded, but just staring at that opening made Olive feel that frustration and paranoia once again. The feeling of being directed and manipulated—he hated it. No, he refused to be subjected to it.

With determination, Olive headed to the blocked alleyway. “Excuse me—”

The chattering group ignored him.

“That’s totally radical,” one of them said.

“Nah, that’s grody,” said another.

Really?

“Excuse me.” Now, he pushed between them with difficulty.

The group fell silent abruptly and stared down at him in a way that reminded him of the stares of the feudal lords in court. Then, they returned to their conversation, chattering even more loudly than before. The reaction unnerved Olive. Stubbornness was one thing but this was something else. Still—

“I said—” Olive squeezed between their arms and sides “—excuse me.”

With one last forceful push, Olive passed through the barricade of their bodies and made it to the other side. He nearly tripped over his own feet from the effort.

Now he stood in a small and empty square.  The alleyway he’d just come from appeared to be the only way to enter and exit so it felt walled-in and claustrophobic. There were a few small shops here and there—nine total, three stores per wall. A candy shop. A shoe shop. A record label shop. Flowers, toys, coffee. Pharmaceutical,  alcohol, arts and crafts.

Olive’s attention was drawn to the trash bin at the corner where the record label shop and flower store met. He ran to it, flipped the lid, peered inside. Some food, old comics, and—perfect. Olive reached in and pulled out a short metal box that looked like it had been part of a transformer. Beneath that he found a spool of copper wire. Bingo.

Elated, Olive pulled out of the trash bin with his prizes. His elation lasted only half a second.

Dumpster diving, he thought. I’m a prince and I’m dumpster diving. This was where Cadence would add something along the lines of ‘this sounds like the beginning of a bad joke’ and Werner would look on with a frown of ‘Appearances are everything. You are admired by many and therefore should be aware of how you appear to others.’ Maria and Jericho, of course, would encourage his actions and Atienna would… 

Olive shook himself and whipped around. “Alexander, come—”

But it was Trystan who stood behind him gawking. He gestured towards his head. “You… have… something…”

Olive pulled the banana peel off of his head with a scowl before heading to the blocked alleyway. He stood on his toes and called out— “Alexander!”—but received no response. He couldn’t even spot the man behind the crowd there.

“I’m sure Coach Charming will find another way around,” Trystan said, coming up behind him, “but what exactly is your project about?” He eyed the items in Olive’s hand. “Are you… trying to build something? Oh, something recyclable? Something green and clean?”

Olive whipped around and made a face. “Green and what?”

Trystan was looking at him like he was the one who was strange. It wasn’t an unfamiliar look. Trystan had given him an odd look or two during their journey across Signum whenever he would synchronize with the others.

Olive frowned.

Trystan frowned back. “…What? Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Guilt knit his brows. “Look… I feel like things have been awkward between us since the mall. And I… understand. You almost died and I could’ve stopped it. I knew if I put my foot down, you wouldn’t have gone. I should’ve stopped you or convinced that thing to come for me instead, but….” He paused, eyes wide. “I didn’t want you to think that I was a loser and… I-I was terrified. I’m sorry.”

Olive froze.

“But I’m grateful—for what you did and that you survived.”

Olive stared at him. The shame in Trystan’s eyes was real but so was the fear. Olive felt like he was like looking at a reflection of himself—except his reflection here had the opportunity to apologize. No, that wasn’t right. The person Trystan wanted to apologize to was no longer here.

Olive hesitated. 

The big questions of Ndoto were flashing in front of him again. Were these people real or not? And were these people trustworthy or not? None of the peacekeepers nor the soldiers nor knights had come up with a strict definition of what was ‘real’ yet which Olive found a bit questionable. 

He himself felt like all the people he’d encountered so far were real. It was better to think they were real even if they were fake than to think they were fake when they were real.

“I don’t think you should apologize for valuing your own life,” Olive muttered.

“But—”

Olive held up his hand. “And… I’m not the person you should be apologizing to… At least not right now. I’m not the one who saved you.”

Trystan did a double take. “You—what? I know you’re just saying that but you really did—”

“You’re asking why I keep looking at you like ‘that’…” Olive frowned. “It’s because I’m not sure if I can even trust you.”

“I—what?” Trystan paused. “What… do you mean?” 

“All of this stuff that you’re saying you feel towards me— guilt, gratitude, regret—I feel all of that towards you,” Olive drew quietly, “because… the Trystan that I knew died protecting me.” 

The memories from that night threatened to flood back into his mind: the fire, skin melting into bone, the hatred, the regret—but no. The others were relying on him so he had to keep on track.

Trystan’s eyes widened before he paused. “Oh, the VNW… I’m sorry, Olive. I can’t imagine thinking that’s how things are but”—he gestured to himself— “I’m alive.”

Not the pity. Not from Trystan.

Olive stared at the pipe in his hands. “It’s VNW to you but it isn’t to me. I was reckless and naive and my friend suffered for it and now that friend is standing in front of me apologizing to me even though I should be apologizing to him. It feels so orchestrated.” He looked up at the sunless sky. “Everything here does.” He turned to Trystan. “So that’s where the trust issue thing comes in.”

Trystan nodded slowly. “Okay… I get that you feel paranoid if that’s how you see things—”

“But I know how you feel is real,” Olive muttered. “Call it naive or… biased, but… that’s my gut feeling.”

“I don’t think you’re being naive,” Trystan said quickly. 

Olive studied Trystan hard and then sighed. “You just think I’m crazy—”

“I don’t.” Trystan sounded earnest.

Suddenly Olive was reminded of their conversation on the train.

Olive turned away. “Anyway, I didn’t want this to turn into a moment. I just don’t want you to feel depressed and look at me that way.” He hefted the box in his hands. “It’s distracting.”

“Look, Olive, I’m your friend, okay?” Trystan said. “Sorry if I’m being distracting but… I’m on your side. I’m here to help. You can trust me.”

Olive froze at the familiar words. 

Trystan sighed. “I don’t know what you’re making and it sounds like you won’t tell me what it is, but it looks like something mechanical.” He nodded to the crafts store behind Olive. “This might be too wild of a suggestion but instead of going through trash bins, shouldn’t we try there instead?” 

“I’m not making something out of tissue paper and greeting cards,” Olive replied flatly.

Trystan’s brows rose. “I mean, they should sell copper wiring and rubber tubing if you need it.”

Olive opened his mouth and then closed it. “…Okay then. Fine.” 

He headed into the store. Trystan was just a step behind him. Just like before. 

A sense of unease immediately crept up Olive’s spine as he scanned the store. Taking in the walls and the shelves, he felt the unease only increase. His main source of unease was a cash register manned by a smiling cashier to the immediate left of the entrance.

“That’s… weird…” Trystan muttered behind him. “Maybe the store is new?”

“How does that make any sense?” Olive frowned. “But I guess that answers my question of whether or not this is normal.”

Trystan glanced around. “Definitely not.”

Cardboard. The cashier was a cardboard cut out of a smiling blonde young man in a button up. The shelves themselves were pop-up cardboard cutouts. Containers of yarn, colorful paper, and boxes of scissors were printed flat onto them. These images were also featured within the wallpaper itself.

Olive paced around the store. Trystan trailed behind him. 

“We should… leave,” Trystan said. 

Olive knocked on the wall and heard a crystalline chime. He froze. Knocked again. Looked at the image printed on the wallpaper he was knocking on: a glass jar full of pins. He looked back at Trystan who frowned and knocked on a plastic bin full of yarn printed right next to it. A dull and hollow thud resounded.

“That’s… weird,” Trystan muttered.

Was that all he had to say about it?

“Come on.”

Olive exited the shop and entered the adjacent flower store. A cardboard florist stood at the front of the store. The cardboard stands sprouting sporadically around the small square room featured prints of basins filled with crudely drawn flowers drawn in with crayon.

Trystan touched his shoulder. “Olive… We should leave this plaza. Something isn’t right.”

He sounded afraid.

Olive relented. “Okay, fine, but… help me take one of these cardboard things out of here.”

Trystan ogled him.

“I want to analyze it.”

“You want to steal from one of the sketchiest places we’ve ever stepped into,” Trystan said flatly. 

“Will you help me or not?”

Trystan grabbed Olive by the shoulder and pulled him back. “Olive, no—”

Olive jerked himself out of Trystan’s hold and grabbed a hold of the cardboard stand—only to see Trystan grab the opposite end of it. Olive stared at Trystan before giving the stand a tug. Trystan remained firm in his grip and even gave a retaliatory pull.

“What are you doing,” Olive asked flatly.

“Just put it back and let’s get out of here,” Trystan demanded.

Olive was rather taken aback, but kept his grip strong— “I’ll take it with me and then we can get out of here.” 

Trystan did a double-take, still pulling. “Why are you acting like this—” He caught himself and then said gently, sympathetically, “I understand why you’re acting like this—”

Olive rolled his eyes. This Trystan was just as self-righteous as the one he remembered. But his Trystan had always been a pushover. Unlike this one. Even now Olive still sometimes wondered whether Trystan’s tenderness could be attributed to their roles in Aries—prince and knight—or if Trystan simply had a soft spot for him.  Friendship even—

The thought stopped Olive short. He stopped tugging but kept his grip firm. 

“What… is it?” Trystan asked, concerned.

Olive released the cardboard stand causing Trystan to stumble back. Trystan peered at him inquisitively.

“Let’s get out of here then—”

Trystan let out a breath and set the cardboard stand down. Olive took the opportunity to dart forward, tear off a small corner of the cardboard, pocket it.

“—after I take this.”

Trystan gaped. “Are you serious?”

“Very.” He grabbed Trystan by the wrist and pulled him along. “It’s not like anyone will notice. Now let’s get out of here.”

As soon as Olive exited the shop however, he froze.

In place of the once sturdy and cramped shops that had once boxed around the square now stood tall yet flimsy cardboard replicas of them. They lacked dimension, appearing flat-surfaced and flimsy. Wooden beams supported the structures from behind. The fountain at the center of the square was plastic and lined with translucent blue tissue paper. The leaves of the bushes around the fountain were un-naturally shiny.

Olive was reminded of the sets of the many plays his aunt and uncle would drag him to. A stage. 

“What’s… going on?” Trystan whispered. 

Olive looked back at him and then forward again. The alleyway that had once been blocked off by that annoying group was clear, but Olive couldn’t really see beyond it. He held Trystan back with an arm.

“Stay here.” Olive slowly inched towards the alley, trying to get a better view of what was beyond it.  He called out. “Alexander?”

Silence.

Something cold brushed up against Olive’s arm. He yelped and whipped around just in time to see Trystan pull his hand back and yelp in unison.

“What?” Trystan whispered, tense, panicked as he came closer. “What? What is it?”

Olive scowled. “Stop freaking out. You’re freaking me out.” 

Trystan flushed. “I’m… not freaking out.” He peered around. “Do you think they’re filming a movie here? For the theaters? Maybe that’s why…”

“How does that make sense?” Olive muttered. “Are you saying that this was all set up while we were in there?”

“I was just… throwing out ideas—”

“How did you get here?”

Olive whipped around to face the shop they had just exited. In the cutout door frame there stood two figures. Girls. One around Olive’s age and another much much younger. The moment he saw them, he felt a familiar warmth and affection—the kind he felt whenever Lavi appeared in front of him.

“Kamaria…” Olive realized. “Kichea.”

They were both dressed in floral-print dresses.

“What are you doing here, Kamaria? Mr. Emil said you called off sick.”  Trystan frowned. “Do you know what’s going on?”

Olive was momentarily confused at the familiarity between the two before he ‘recalled’ that the two knew each other from soccer meetups and school.

Kamaria squinted at them both. She let out a gasp a second later and pounded over to Olive. She stopped only when they were nose to nose and peered deeply into his eyes.

Olive resisted the urge to lean back. 

“Prince,” Kichea said from where she still stood in the cutout of the doorway. She pointed at Olive. “Prince!”

Wait.

Kamaria finally pulled away. “What… happened to you?”

Well, that was rude.

It took Olive a moment to comprehend the question. “I was stabbed and nearly died. Apparently.” 

Kamaria made a face. “You’re aware.”

Olive arched a brow. “Generally, when both of your eyes are open and you’re engaged in a conversation with another person—yes, it does mean that you’re aware.”

Kamaria’s eyes narrowed. “You might be aware but it seems to me you aren’t aware of how rude you are.”

Olive muttered, “Look at the pot calling the kettle black.”

“So you admit that you were being rude,” Kamaria retorted, lifting her chin.

And they say I’m stubborn, Olive thought. He prepared to retort before a sudden wave of amusement washed away his annoyance. Atienna’s younger siblings were definitely a lot feistier than Lavi and Werner’s siblings. However, Olive wondered if this was why Atienna had seemed to adapt to all of their personalities so well when they all first started synchronizing.  

“Look. I’m sorry… for being rude.” Olive bit back coarser words. “Do you know what’s going on here?” He eyed Kichea. “I heard your sister call me ‘prince’.” He looked back at her. “Do you think I’m a prince?”

Trystan frowned. “Wait—”

Kamaria crossed her arms. “By looks, no.”

What the—

“But by profession…” She looked him up and down. “Yes, I can tell. You are Prince Olivier Chance—”

So she knew.

Olive didn’t feel the relief he’d expected to feel.

“Wait a minute,” Trystan interjected. “If this is a joke, it’s a terrible one, Kamaria. Olive isn’t… well right now. He has VNW, so you saying this is just going to make him worse—”

Kamaria studied Trystan and walked a circle around him. “You not only got here but you can also recognize that something isn’t right…” She hummed and squinted before pulling back. “That’s weird.”

Trystan frowned. “What—”

Olive held up his hand. “What’s weird about it?”

“Haven’t you noticed it?” Kamaria crossed her arms. 

“Enlighten me,” Olive said.

Kamaria tapped her fingers along her arm. 

Olive noticed her hesitation. “You can trust me.”

Kamaria held up a finger. “It’s not that I don’t trust you… It’s just that…” She lowered her eyes before heading back towards Kichea and gesturing for him to follow. “Anyways, my sister told me you were one of the brightest bulbs she’s ever come across—”

Olive followed her, motioning for Trystan to follow suit. 

“—so I’m surprised you haven’t noticed it—”

Olive resisted rolling his eyes.

Kamaria stopped short and squinted at him. “You were a lot snappier last time.”

Last time? Did she mean the Ndoto version of himself? He didn’t remember ever talking with her… ever. Not even when they’d gathered everyone in Francis’s hideout.

She continued, “The people who live here don’t notice when things around them shift. They act like it’s always been that way. Even when things don’t make sense, it makes sense to them.”

Olive recalled the way Werner and Cadence couldn’t comprehend the fact that they were communicating through their True Conductor connection. He thought of everyone’s reaction to the sun—rather, the lack of the sun and the lack of reaction. 

“My tutor once told me that if you’re part of the system, you’ll never be able to see what’s wrong with it.” 

That did sound like something melodramatic enough for Usian to say. Her words sounded familiar though. Had Atienna heard something similar before?

“Kichea, me, and Bachiru live here but we’re not actually a part of the system so that’s why I know what’s what.” She rolled her eyes. “‘System’. That’s what Bachiru calls everything.”

Trystan sighed. “I think we should stop talking about this. I don’t think it’s helping anyone.”

Olive stared at him, studied him, then glanced briefly at Kamaria, studied him again. “But it is possible for someone who lives is in the ‘system’—an Ndotoan—to notice when something doesn’t make sense.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Trystan frowned.

“There’s some sort of criteria that needs to be met for that to happen, right? It’s not just random, is it?” Olive wondered. 

Kamaria shrugged. “My tutor also once said that the only ones who are a part of a system and are also aware that parts of the system are illogical are those at the center of the system and at the edge of the system.”

At the center and the edge?

“Your tutor sounds like he needs to reconsider his occupation,” Olive muttered, “since he’s taught his students to never give a straight answer.”

Kamaria whipped to him, hands on hips.  “I am helping you here, you know—”

In a very unhelpful way.

Kamaria seemed unnecessarily stubborn and coy, but those were charming qualities.

“And I’m grateful,” Olive said. He paused again, studying her. “Wait… you said earlier that you’ve never been part of Ndoto?”

Kamaria nodded.

“That means you know how we got here.”

Kamaria shook her head. “I don’t know everything. Maybe it’s better that way.”

“So you don’t know everything and yet you’ve never questioned anything? Don’t you want to… get out of here?”

“I—I never said that.” Kamaria’s eyes narrowed before she huffed. “You just wouldn’t get it. It’s complicated.”

Ugh.

“Obviously I won’t get it if you’re being obscure about it.”

Kamaria’s eyes narrowed even further.

She sounded conflicted. Olive’s annoyance was soon replaced by sympathy. He didn’t know what Kamaria had gone through since coming here. Just like how he didn’t know what Atienna had been through. Atienna had looked so cold and strange that night she had visited him in the hospital.

“Look—I can tell you’ve been through a lot. I’m sorry if I’m coming off insensitive,” Olive muttered, looking away. “If there’s something you need to say or talk about, I’ll stop barraging you with questions and listen. I know it sounds cheesy but it helps.”

Kamaria’s brows met and she stared at him in a strange way—in a way of familiarity, in a way that made it seem like she was about to pour out everything to him. In the end, however, she crossed her arms again and waved a hand. “Just ask your questions.” 

“Okay then… If you say so.” He paused to allow her sometime to change her mind but she didn’t. “You said you were here from the beginning. How long ago was that? How long have you been here?” 

“In this version of Ndoto?” Kamaria pondered for a second. “For a little over four months, I think.”

Four months—

Olive paused. “What do you mean this ‘version’?” He recalled the details Gabrielle had given him in the hospital. “Do you mean… the ‘gardens’?”

“Well, there are gardens, yes. I’ve been to a lot of them.” Her tone was bragging. “But, no, I mean that my siblings and I have only been here for about four months. This one’s probably the most detailed out of all the gardens I’ve been to.”

“How…” Olive studied her. “How exactly are you doing that?”

“You just need to know where to look,” Kamaria said.

Ugh.

“I can show you if you’d like.”

Olive looked up.

“Later though.”

They were at the cutout door to the store now where Kichea stood.

Olive glanced back at the cardboard courtyard.  “Well can you at least tell me what’s wrong with this place? Obviously this isn’t normal.”

“It’s unfinished,” Kamaria answered. “It probably was never meant to be finished but you two found it so it’ll probably be scrapped once they’ve realized you’ve found it. That’s what usually happens and that’s why we need to get out of here.”

“Scrapped?”

“Oh, but you don’t have to worry about that,” Kamaria said nonchalantly. “That won’t happen as long as you’re around me.”

“Did you tell Atienna all of this?” Olive asked the question he’d been wanting to ask since the beginning. He paused. “Have you… seen her around?”

Kamaria slowed to a stop. “Why are you asking that? Wouldn’t you know that?”

Did she mean because he was connected to Atienna? Did she know about True Conductors?

He tried, “Do you know about Atienna and me?”

Kamaria’s eyes narrowed again. “What are you trying to say?”

Again, Olive was thrown off by her reaction. Why was she being so aggressive? So hot and cold? She almost reminded Olive how bratty Lavi would act when they were younger whenever he would spend time with his court friends without inviting her along. Before the Tragedy.

Olive paused.

Wait. Was it… jealousy? But why? Maybe he was reading too much into this.

Kamaria continued, “And which Atienna are you referring to?”

Olive thought he misheard. “What? What do you mean?”

Kamaria raised a brow. “There was someone here before you, wasn’t there? The Olive before you.”

Olive’s ears rang.

“What are you two… talking about?” Trystan’s voice cut through their conversation. He was looking at both of them with concern. “I think we should speak with a guidance officer—”

Kamaria rolled her eyes. “Come on. Let’s get out of here first.” She beckoned them, grabbed a hold of Kichea’s hand, and passed over the threshold with her sister.

Olive glanced at Trystan who peered at him with a frown. After offering a shrug,  Olive followed suit, stepping into the store, one foot over the threshold—

—and then time slowed. No, it seemed to freeze. Ahead of him was a sudden pitch blackness and behind him a warm light.

He could hear birds chirping at his back. Someone was there. Someone was behind him. 

A hand wrapped around his wrist—“Don’t look back, Your Highness”—and pulled him forward.

When Olive made it over the threshold and into the store, he found that it was Trystan’s hand that was wrapped around his wrist. Trystan himself seemed to be surprised by the gesture because he cleared his throat, flushed, and then released his grip.

Olive didn’t have any time to address the oddity because he soon noticed an even greater oddity around them. They were standing now in a store identical to the one they had just exited before—except in place of the cardboard shelves were real wooden ones filled with real plastic bins filled with real craft items.

The store was normal. 

“VNW,” Trystan muttered. “It has to be that.” When he caught Olive staring at him, 

Olive glanced back at Kamaria. He stiffened when he registered her pale expression. 

“She fixed it,” the girl murmured. “She fixed it… for him? No…” 

Kamaria darted out the store without another word. Olive followed but was immediately overwhelmed by how crowded the once empty square was. 

“What’s happening…?” Trystan whispered behind him. 

“Your Highness!” came a call of relief.

Olive turned and found one Alexander Charming bounding up to him. The man’s hands hovered but did not dare make contact.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he panted. “What happened? Where were you?”

Olive pointed back to the store in confusion as he took the crowd in. “I… called for you… ”

Alexander’s brows knit and he placed a hand over his chest. “Your Highness, I didn’t hear you. I’m sorry-” 

“It’s fine, Alex.” Olive waved him off. “It’s no big deal….” He turned back to search the crowd for Kamaria and Kichea but he knew they were gone.

***

It was nighttime by the time they made their way to the Wibele. It had taken the entire day of scrounging around the different districts for Olive to get the supplies he needed. He was still missing a few parts here and there but he was sure Eunji would make up for it. 

The Wibele was guarded by a handful of men and women clad in leather jackets and jeans. They had a mean air about them and were surrounded by a cloud of cigarette smoke. Their stiff gait made Olive think that they were the type to start a fight if looked at the wrong way. That was why he was mildly surprised to find a familiar blond head poke out from the group and flash him a blinding smile.

“Ollie! You came to visit!” Werner threw his cigarette on the ground, stomped it out, and rushed over.

An embrace came next followed by the acrid curl of nauseating smoke.

Olive resisted pulling away. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Alexander inch forward slightly.

“Oh! Trystan’s here too! And Coach Charming? Seems like you’ve been busy, huh, Ollie?”

It took a moment for Olive to acclimate to Werner’s energy. “You could say that…”

Werner pulled back and motioned them inside the store. “You guys look hungry. Follow me!”

As Olive passed by the group crowded in front of the store, he was able to place a handful of faces. Iota. The Kaiser. And that one Geminian general—Nil Abero—that had been in the newspapers. Olive would have passed them with more precaution if it were not for the fact that they were wearing matching purple T-shirts with the face of a very familiar cat printed on them. Below each cat-face was the sentence—HELP BRING KAISER HOME. 

Upon entering the store, Olive was not too surprised to see it filled with familiar faces.

He registered Gabrielle and Alice at one of the tables. They both noticed him. The former offered a nod and motioned him over while the latter held his gaze until he looked away. Beside them was Eunji, Soha, Weingartner, Von Spiel, a handful of clearly military men—despite their choice of bright and flower print clothing—that Olive vaguely recognized, Heimler, Wilhelm, Emilia, and Klaus.

At the table across from them sat Francis, leaning back in his chair just slightly enough to be casual but not so much as to be relaxed. Behind him and leaning lovingly against his shoulders was Omicron and to his left was Allen and to his right Carl. Across from them sat a very vibrant-looking Cadence, a cross-armed Fortuna, and Nico whose arm was in a cast.

As happy as Olive was to see Cadence and Werner, he couldn’t help but wonder where his sister was. Claire had said that he would take her to the Wibele so where were they? 

“Oh! Olive!” Cadence cooed as she noticed him. She waved him over. “How are you feeling, honey?”

Olive approached her and watched as Werner disappeared to the back of the shop. He noticed Emilia Bergmann’s gaze lingering on them. “I’m… fine…” 

Cadence’s smile was blinding and her eyes seemed endlessly sparkling.

He asked, “How about you?”

“Oh, I’m fine, honey,” Cadence reassured him. “There’s no need to worry about me.” She looked him up and down. “Did you go to school today, honey? Are you sure you shouldn’t be taking the day off?” She suddenly took hold of his hand. “What did your parents say…?” 

Olive tried his best not to whip out the sarcastic mark he would have delivered if Cadence was normal.

She glanced behind him and smiled at Trystan and Alexander. “Thank you for looking after him, Trystan.”

Trystan’s face went red. “O-Of, course…” He let out a breath. “Cadence.” He paused awkwardly. “I really liked your newest song.”

Saints.

This level of sweetness coming from Cadence felt fake—but Olive knew it wasn’t because this was how the Cadence of Ndoto was. Sweet and honest and… spoiled. Never having to scour, scrap, sift through trash for scraps. Doted on. Adored. Loved.

“Good to see you on your feet, Mr. Chance,” Francis said when Cadence released him. “You shouldn’t baby the young man too much, Cadence. He’ll be an adult soon.” He smiled. “Right, Mr. Chance?”

“Right…” Olive trailed off and studied Nico. Awkwardly, he tried, “I heard you got hurt too, Nico. I’m… glad you’re alright.”

Nico appeared rather surprised by his address and offered a small smile. “Right back at you.”

Olive studied him.  That was a weird reaction, wasn’t it? At least from the Ndoto version Nico. If Olive recalled correctly, Ndoto Nico was a bit of a prick. 

Cadence gave a worried sigh and placed a hand on Nico’s shoulder. “Oh, are you sure we shouldn’t take you to a guidance officer or the hospital to run some more tests? I know it isn’t VNW but—and I’m sorry if this sounds rude, but—Nico, you’ve been…” 

“I’m just tired, Cadence, and a near-death experience really changes your perspective on things,” Nico reassured her. “I’m fine. Really. Besides, I am a d—guidance officer. I know how it is.”

Francis smiled. “I wouldn’t question miracles that come your way, Cadence. Besides, when was the last time the six of us have sat together and enjoyed some time together without arguing?”

Allen leaned back in his chair slightly as his gaze swept across those at the table.

Olive felt like he was intruding on some kind of moment.

“Heard you were normal again.” Carl leaned forward suddenly and pointed to the items Alexander had in his arms. “What’s that for?”

Alexander frowned slightly. 

Gabrielle, Eunji, and Weingartner joined them.

“I’m trying to build a vitae spectrophotometer,” Olive explained.

“A vitae spectrophotometer?” Gabrielle’s brows rose with interest.

“That’s the device that lets you visualize the color of a person’s vitae,” Weingartner drew, “correct?”

Olive nodded.

Some more people from the other table joined them. Alice, Eunji, Klaus, Von Spiel, and some others.

“That could be useful…” Gabrielle rubbed her chin.

“That’s why I’m doing it,” Olive muttered. “I’m surprised you all haven’t tried it yet.”

“How exactly will that help us leave Ndoto?” one of the other men demanded. It was the Geminian capitano. Valentino.

“How will just sitting around and talking about getting out helping?” Olive replied. “We have to find the ‘root,’ right? To get out of here?”

Eunji drew, “I think it’s a good idea, Olive. I did find a couple parts that you could maybe use. I could help with building it too. I think the spectrophotometer could help us maybe distinguish between what exactly is a ‘root’ and what’s not.” When she noticed the attention that was suddenly on her, she flushed slightly. “And finding the root is obviously important… ”

Olive was rather surprised by her interjection. “Thanks, Eunji. Exactly.”

“Conductors don’t work here, Your Highnesses,” another man said. General Vogel.

“A vitae spectrophotometer isn’t technically a conductor,” Olive clarified. “It doesn’t have a conducting core. Maybe that’s the reason—”

“Do you really think you can build one from scratch?” Von Spiel asked, interrupting Olive’s train of thought.

Olive eyed him warily. “I’m not making any promises but it’s not helping anyone by not trying.”

Weingartner nodded before gesturing to Klaus. “Kleine will assist you. He is trained somewhat in military conductor engineering. We can discuss additional questions you have regarding conjuring as he assists you.”

Werner abruptly barged back into the room. He balanced two black trays precariously on each hand. The trays were topped with an assortment of baked goods, drinks, and small cakes–all of which Werner handed out as he rounded the tables.  

By the time Werner reached Olive’s side, there were only a few items left on the trays.

After handing Gabrielle and Weingartner milkshakes, Werner finally delivered a strawberry shortcake to Olive.  It was topped with a decorative white chocolate piece in the shape of a bunny. There was only one item left on the tray.

Usually Olive would’ve devoured the cake in an instant but for the first time in a long while he wasn’t craving a bite.

“And a sweet treat for my sweet Liebling,” Werner finished, placing a quick peck on Nico’s cheek as he delivered a chocolate-covered croissant to the man.

Saints, Olive thought. This was weird.

“Thanks… Werner,” Nico drew slowly. 

Werner peered at Nico curiously. “You keep calling me ‘Werner’…” He  gasped, sank to a crouch , held Nico’s hand. “Are you mad at me, Liebling?”

Olive blanched.

Nico stared at him before offering him a reassuring smile and a quick hand squeeze back.  “I’m not. Don’t worry.”

Werner stared at him hopefully, expectantly. Cadence and Francis exchanged a look.

Nico relented. “… Tesoro.”

Werner brightened, kissed Nico on the hand, and hopped to his feet. He whipped to Francis and Charite: “Oh, Franny and Charite, I forgot to say: I finished designing your guys’ wedding cake based on the description you guys gave. I piped up a test cake for you if you want to take a look?”

Omicron’s—Charite’s—face became sympathetic. “Oh, Werner, you didn’t have to. I know you’ve been dealing with so much with Kaiser and N—”

Francis tapped Charite’s hand lightly. They seemed to have an unspoken conversation before Charite squeezed Francis’s shoulders, smiled, and said, “Well, let’s see it.”

Cadence hopped to a stand enthusiastically. “Oh, I’d love to see it too!” She clasped her hands together. “Oh, can I?” 

Werner brightened. “It’s a cake-watching party! Let’s go!”

The four departed swiftly into the kitchen.

Olive felt a bit left out seeing them ago but he knew the feeling was ridiculous.

Fortuna took a long sip of the milkshake Werner had provided. “So, are you enjoying the married life, Nico, now that your head is in order?”

Weingartner and Gabrielle exchanged looks.

Nico let out a sigh. “That’s the first thing you want to tease me about?”

Carl spat out his lemonade, grabbed a hold of Nico’s shoulders, shook him hard. “Nico?! Is it you, Nico?”

Nico raised his hands and chuckled lightly. He eyed Trystan briefly before he said, “Who else would I be, Carl?”

“You didn’t realize?” Allen arched a brow.

Carl looked around the table. “You all did?!”

Olive kept his mouth shut and resisted rolling his eyes. 

“Well good.” Carl huffed before patting Nico on the arm. “You were a real asshole.”

Gabrielle reached across the table, hand extended. “Pleasure to meet you again, Mr. Fabrizzio. Can’t say I was a fan of the Ndoto version of yourself. By the way, do you think you could give us any insights into how you… came to your senses?”

“Do you recall anything?” Alice added on. “Anything from that night or before?”

“Sorry to disappoint you but I’ve got no idea,” Nico answered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Everything is fuzzy. The last thing I clearly remember is…” He trailed off for a moment. “… leaving Francis’s hideout to go to Virgo.” 

Olive shared a look with Gabrielle.

Nico seemed to notice the meaning behind the look and eyed Olive. “You too, huh?”

Olive nodded.

Nico offered him a small smile. “Do you also sort of maybe but not exactly remember details about what you were doing in Ndoto before this?”

Olive again nodded.

Alice crossed both her arms and shared a look with Gabrielle.

“All the more reason to get to find our slasher friend quicker,” Gabrielle noted.

“If you no longer are affected by this place then why have you not said anything, Fabrizzio?” the Geminian man interjected.

Nico arched a brow. “I don’t mean to be rude but is there any advantage to me bein’ diagnosed with VNW?” He pulled a wallet out from his pocket, extracted a familiar-looking card, and placed it on the table. He tapped it. “I figured this could help us get into places.”

“Good call, Fabrizzio,” Weingartner acknowledged. “It’s a pleasure to have you back.”

Nico offered the man a small smile. “Always, hauptmann.”

“Let’s talk later about that KM-card of yours, alright, Nico?” Gabrielle nodded and turned to Olive. “Now before you dive head first into that project of yours, I have some questions for you. Have you spoken to Prince Yuseong at all?”

What?

Olive paused. “Yes, I… went… to school earlier to see if I could pick up any clues. I didn’t but Claire was there.”

Was it really Claire though? a voice at the back of his head whispered. The unease he felt about Claire was on a completely different tier compared to what he felt about Trystan.

“School, hm? Interesting…” Gabrielle’s  brows rose and she shared a look with Alice and Weingartner. “Interesting. How about Atienna? Have you seen her around?”

Olive tensed and noticed that Klaus was looking at him strangely. “No… I was actually going to ask you if any of you’ve seen her…”

“Interesting.”

“Do you have any other adjective you could use?” Olive muttered. He tried to keep his voice even. “Why… are you asking?”

Gabrielle turned slightly so she was half-facing Von Spiel and Heimler. “You two want to fill him in?”

Martin von Spiel stepped forward. “I’ll explain.” He addressed Olive calmly, “During the incident at the shopping complex in which you and Nico were injured, Heimler and I were…”

“Erroneously electing to abandon their duties and instead spend time with mirages,” Vogel said, eyes narrowing. “I expected as much from Heimler given his previous actions but from you, Martin—”

Von Spiel turned to Vogel. “I understand I had a lapse in judgement, general, but I will not apologize for spending time with my son.”

“Your son…?” Vogel opened his mouth but declined saying anything else.

Saints. 

“As I was saying,” Vogel continued, “during the attack, Heimler and I were together as Fritz and Heinrich were spending the evening with each other and with Fritz’s… wife and son. An anomaly occurred—one that I believe has happened before—in which Fritz and Heinrich and his wife and son appeared to ‘come to’.”

Come to?

Nico sat up straighter. “Do you mean they… acted like themselves?”

Vogel nodded. “Again, they mentioned something about only being able to ‘be themselves’ when an unknown party wasn’t watching. I assume this is the gardener that we all keep hearing about. Anyways, when we tried to press them for details, they were vague but they mentioned everything in Ndoto constantly shifting and changing without anyone noticing.”

Olive thought about the square from earlier.

“However, they mentioned several things that they were able to notice were always  ‘different’.” Vogel lifted five fingers, putting one down as he listed the items off: “The Virgoans, Yuseong Claire, Wtorek Csilla, Lavender Chance, and Atienna Imamu.” He lowered his hand. “They returned to ‘normal’ before they could explain what they meant.”

Olive had the feeling he was leaving something out but he couldn’t even focus on that fact. He shook his head. “What… is any of that even supposed to mean…?”

The television set in the corner of the shop suddenly flickered on and a very familiar Libran man appeared on the screen. Hilton Tyler. He smiled brightly as he stood in front of a news anchor desk.

“Continuing on our story about the alleged Raincoat Killer’s official capture—” the man began.

“Capture?” Alice frowned.

An image appeared beside Hilton on the screen. A Virgoan man with a bruised face and a white smile. 

“Imamu Nuru was arrested this evening on charges of first degree murder,” Hilton Tyler continued, “and—”

“That can’t be right…” Carl muttered. “That guy looks like a wimp.”

“The original,” Alice noted. “That must be the original killer. Not the copycat.”

Not Libra.

The picture of Nuru on the television screen was suddenly replaced by two faces. A very familiar one and a faintly familiar one.

“—arrest was accomplished through the valiant efforts of Policymaker Imamu and Guidance Officer Myosotis,” Hilton concluded.

Atienna…?

The doorbell to the shop chimed.

Olive glanced towards the door and noticed that it had gotten even darker outside. The adjacent stores and the shops across the streets had switched on their nighttime lights which cast the busy roads in neon. Those lights also illuminated the backs of the duo who entered: Claire and Lavi.

“Looks like a full house today,” Claire noted as he stepped in. He waved to Ollie before thumbing Lavi. “I told you I’d bring your sister here safely.” He gestured to Eunji. “And with that, we’ve done a successful sister trade.”

Olive sided glanced at Eunji. She waved slowly at her brother and he waved back.

“We’re only late because Claire left his notes for the project at his house so we had to go all the way back to his home district and double back.” Lavi rolled her eyes.

Claire headed to Cadence’s unmanned milkshake, inspected it, and claimed it as his own. 

Gross, Olive thought. 

Claire proceeded over to the counter and perched himself comfortably there.

Lavi joined Olive and nodded at him. The doorbell chimed again before he could say anything. It was Mai, Kai, and Arjun. 

“And where have you been?” Vogel asked. “We haven’t heard from you in days.”

Mai exchanged a look with Arjun as they filtered into the shop and claimed a separate table for themselves. “We’ve been investigating matters on our own. We’ve only come to exchange information.”

“Sagittarians…” someone muttered under their breath.

Claire chuckled mid-sip.

Lavi eyed the items in Trystan’s and Alexander’s arms. “What is all this?” 

Gabrielle said quickly, “It’s nothing to worry about—”

“I’m building a vitae spectrophotometer,” Olive explained. “That’s why I left early. To gather supplies.”

“What…? You’re diving head first into this?” The brightness in Lavi’s eyes died as she gestured to the tools. “Why?”

There was a pause.

“Is there a reason Olive shouldn’t be doing this?” Gabrielle asked. “Lavi?”

“It’s stupid,” Lavi said without skipping a beat. “And more trouble than it’s worth.”

“You sound like you know what a vitae spectrophotometer is. If I didn’t know any better,” Valentino drew, “I would think that you’re trying to prevent us from leaving.”

Lavi fell quiet. 

Alexander bristled, opened his mouth, studied Lavi for a moment, said nothing. 

“And if I didn’t know any better,” Olive said with a frown, “I would think that you love jumping to conclusions…” He glanced at his sister to make sure she was okay. 

The passersby on the street broke up the light coming in from the opposite side of the street. Bursts of neon splattered across his sister’s face. He recognized her expression immediately. Realization, embarrassment, disbelief, shame…? But why?

“You make it sound like you have something important to go back to,” Lavi drew suddenly. “Like what you think is outside of here is so much better than what’s here.”

Valentino sighed. “Yes, there’s a war out there and not in here making here rationally more appealing. It’s not as if we haven’t heard that one before.”

“No, I’m not talking about the war.” Lavi studied them all one by one. “I’m talking about the way you live your lives out there. Waking up each day just waiting for the day to end but simultaneously hoping it never does.” She eyed Gabrielle. “Trying to make the day go faster with small thrills or vices, distractions, companionship.” Now she evaluated Mai. “Monotonously checking off box after box to reach some goal that will just be added onto another goal and another one. Trying to prove you have more to you, more meaning than another.”

The noise of the pedestrians outside was deafening.  But Olive ignored them and studied his sister with concern. These words felt familiar. Where was this all coming from?

“Acting as if you have some higher calling or higher purpose because—if you don’t then why are you here? Why do you even exist? Whether it’s war or peace in Signum, you all existed without existing but always desperately tried to either prove or find the meaning behind your existence. Empty lives heading in one direction. The living dead. But you all want to go back to that because that’s all you know. You disregard everyone here because they’re dead or fake in your eyes but you still want to bond with and reminisce and rekindle with them for one-sided satisfaction and self-soothing. It’s pathetic.”

“Lavi…” Olive reached for her.

Lavi startled. As soon as they locked eyes, a look of guilt crossed her face. 

Claire let out a sudden and drawn out sigh. “Well, that’s dramatic. But now that you put it that way, it does make it seem like all these ‘dead’ people and ‘fake’ people and Ndotoans are living much more meaningful and fulfilling lives than they are. Kind of embarrassing even.”

Lavi’s eyes narrowed.

Claire took a long sip of his drink. “But, you know, even if they’re basically the ‘living dead’, they are all still here. That’s something.” 

Claire set the drink down and leaned forward. A neon light across the street flickered on and dyed his entire face a bright blue. 

“A woman once told me that ‘anything loved is not dead’,” he continued, “and that anything loved is not unreal.” He hopped off the counter, approached the door, peered out. “Whether or not Ndoto or Signum is real, whether or not everyone here is pathetic, whether or not everyone here has meaning or purpose, the fact that they’re here must mean that they’re loved by someone or something.” He turned slightly, smiling at no one in particular. “Wouldn’t you say so?”

***

“That wasn’t Claire,” Mai was saying. “That was Sagittarius.”

“Huh? Claire stopped by? Lavi too?” Werner’s brows rose. “Aw, I’m sad I didn’t get to see them before they left.” He smiled. “Well, I know Francis, Charite, and Cadence left already too, but you all can stay as long as you like!”

Olive could barely hear him above the ringing in his ears.

So that’s how it was. Claire. Sagittarius. That was why Claire had seemed so off. That was why Olive had felt a chill when Claire had visited him in the hospital. That was why Claire and Lavi were talking to each other that way. But—what did this mean for Claire…? Claire was still alive, right? Was it something similar with Talib and Scorpio? Or something like Lavi and Aries—because even though Lavi was Aries, Lavi was still Lavi… right?

“And you’re just telling us this now?” Von Spiel was saying. “How do you expect us to trust you when you withhold information like this?” 

Mai returned, “And you, meanwhile, deserted your post without telling anyone. How does then incite trust?”

“Mai,” Arjun sighed. 

Gabrielle stepped between the two with raised hands. “Now, now, let’s not make this more of a deal than it is.” She looked between them. “Now, obviously, both of your ‘controversial’ actions has to do with family. And I’m sure you both can understand how complicated things get when family is involved. It’s not like we didn’t have suspicions about Claire, right? And it’s not like we didn’t think that Fritz Von Spiel wasn’t worth looking into. We’re finally getting somewhere so let’s not get off track, okay?”

A pause.

“I suppose this puts some weight onto what Fritz and Heinrich said,” Von Spiel finally drew.

Heimler nodded.

“And you say Sagittarius is an ally?” Valentino inquired testily. “How do you know this?”

Mai didn’t respond.

“Huh? Sagittarius?” Werner wondered out loud. “Claire and Sagittarius?” He slapped a hand on his knee. “Oh! I almost forgot! Derik told me to tell you all about Claire being the Paint Candy of Sagittarius!”

Weingartner paused. “Derik…? You spoke with Derik? When was this?”

“A couple days ago.” Werner nodded. “He was here with a bunch of people. Uh… there was someone named Ferris—”

Alice and Gabrielle shared looks.

“—and an Agape… and a really funny guy… I think his name was Violence?”

“You mean… Veles?” Olive asked, bewildered. 

“Yeah, Veles!”

Allen eyed Nico. “Any of this ringin’ a bell?”

Nico shook his head in confusion. 

“Oh, they came when you were still in the hospital, Liebling.” Werner patted Nico on the shoulders. “They left right after and said they’d be back after they finished doing some things. They were nice and took some posters of Kaiser with them to hang around!”

Weingartner pressed, “Did they say when they’d come back, Werner?”

Werner tilted his head and shrugged. 

***

Mai and Von Spiel sent out some men into the night in search of parts Olive was still missing for the vitae spectrophotometer and kept a close eye on his progress. It was annoying being watched and Olive made sure to let them know. 

Olive did feel bad for Klaus who sat across from him, however, as the man was caught in the crossfire. 

Eunji, who sat on his left, on the other hand—seemed oddly entertained by it all.  Olive worried about Eunji. Claire was her brother, after all. What was she thinking about all this…? She’d known, hadn’t she? 

Then there was Trystan who sat stiffly on his right.

Trystan…

“So what questions do you have for me?” Klaus asked. He glanced back at his old captain who stood behind him. “For us?”

“It’s mostly about the limits and capabilities of Conjuring,” Olive answered as he tinkered with some makeshift wiring, “and about distinguishing a conjured object from the real thing.”

Klaus hesitated. “The real thing…?” He swallowed, pushed up his glasses, and nodded. “Well, I guess I should clear up a common misconception first. Most people assume that the vitae particles in a conjured object are entirely the same as the vitae of the Conjuror compared to a normal object which is made up of a chimera of vitae particles, but that’s not always the case.”

Olive paused in his tinkering.

“Klaus is speaking of base objects,” Weingartner elaborated.

Klaus nodded. “Sometimes, when it’s available, Conjurors use a base object to support their conjuring. Like a core object that they can build around. It could be something as small as a needle to something as large as the size of my fist.  For a conducting rifle, the base is usually the stock or the forestock. Using a base object can really help reduce vitae waste. So…” He ran his fingers along the metal sheet he was holding. “Anyways, to answer your question: a conjured object’s vitae particles are composed mostly of the vitae from the Conjuror… and also the base object’s vitae particles if a base object is used. If there’s no base object, it’s completely made up of the Conjuror’s vitae particles” 

“I see—” He paused and studied the two men. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Conjuror use something like that.”

“It’s difficult to find suitable base objects when you’re on the field,” Weingartner explained gently, “but I’m sure if you’ve gone to any shop run by a Conjuror, you’ll find they have plenty of base objects to spare.”

Klaus nodded. “Oh, also,” he continued. “Those two different types of vitae particles–the base objects and the Conjuror’s–never intermingle or inter-disperse.

Weingartner explained, “It’s referred to as the Law of Conjured Particles.”. 

Creative name, Olive thought. He nodded. “Thanks. I just have one more question. It’s about conjuring… soft vitae.”

Klaus nearly dropped the metal sheet in his hands.

“Obviously the study of it is outlawed but…” Now he looked into the eyes of the adults around him. “Have you ever tried it? Or seen anyone try it? I mean, if you think of it in the most basic unit possible: do you think it’s possible to conjure a cell? A cell membrane, the nucleus, mitochondria. If you could get the molecules just right then—”

Klaus shook his head harshly. “No, no, no. I mean… it’s… impossible.” He stared at the metal sheet.

Weingartner explained, “The threshold of energy between hard vitae and soft vitae is exceptionally high.”

Klaus agreed, “Conjuring the bonds between things like carbon atoms which holds all that soft vitae is just… impossibly difficult.” He put up his hands. “N-Not that I’ve ever tried. That’s just what we’ve always been taught.” 

Eunji murmured, “But for a saint candidate…” 

Weingartner’s eyes narrowed just slightly.

Klaus frowned. “Even if that was possible with a saint candidate, would that conjured thing be considered living? I wonder… if it would even be sentient.”

“Carbon bonds and soft vitae…” Olive muttered.

Werner entered the room with another tray of snacks. He seemed to have been listening in earlier and appeared worried. “What’s going on, Liebling? What are you guys… talking about? VNW stuff…?”

“It’s nothing… Tesoro.” Nico patted Werner gently on the arm. He stood and led Werner back into the kitchen. “Let’s get everyone some drinks…”

Once they were gone, Olive relayed to Klaus and the others who were listening about what he’d experienced with the shifting buildings earlier in the day. 

Everyone fell silent.

“What in saint’s name are we dealing with…” Valentino muttered.

Olive asked, “In your opinion, Klaus, do you think that a Conjuror could do something like that?”

Klaus was pale. “That… sounds more like transmutation than conjuring.” He shook his head. “Actually, that doesn’t even sound like transmutation…”

“I…” Eunji hesitated. She glanced over at Mai who frowned and then at Arjun. After a long pause, she began to explain her ability to conduct without a conductor and her theory on their presence in Ndoto. A body that wasn’t hers.

For some reason, Olive was not as surprised or alarmed by her theory as he thought he would be. Everyone else was clearly alarmed, however, as the room immediately burst into hushed whispering and gasps of alarm.

“That’s ridiculous,” Vogel muttered. “I would know if something happened to my body or if something was off about it.”

“Exactly,” Valentino concurred, although he didn’t sound as certain.

“Is it ridiculous?” Gabrielle replied, arms crossed, expression thoughtful. “That could explain why none of us are able to conduct with conductors. Our bodies just aren’t built the same way right now.” She tapped her foot. “But… that does make me curious about that Virgoan who could…”

“If that’s true…” Emilia murmured. “We’re still ourselves… right?”

A base object and a Conjuror’s vitae.

A chill went up Olive’s spine.

Then, he thought of Lavi. Thought of the possibilities.

The conversation and whispering was getting louder now.

Olive barely managed to speak above it: “Well, I guess that’s why we’re using a vitae spectrophotometer now, right?”

***

As the night dragged on, more and more people ended up filtering out Werner’s bakery. Olive had pressed Trystan and Alexander to leave with difficulty, and they were the last two to go.

Soon it was just Olive himself, Werner, and Nico. And Werner’s mother. Yes, Werner’s mother. It seemed as if she was staying in his ‘shop-ome’  now to help care for Nico and help with the housework. She would pop into the storefront from the back every now and again and offer him a smile. Frankly, Olive didn’t trust her. But… she was sweet to Werner.

And Werner was sweet. Ridiculously sweet. He swung by Olive’s makeshift workstation every so often with food and a drink before cozying up beside Nico in a chair in front of the TV. He didn’t seem to full grasp what Olive was trying to make but always commented ‘That’s so cool’ or ‘You’re so smart, Ollie’ or ‘Radical!’ with every visit.

Olive didn’t allow himself to fully enjoy the small treats, however. He allowed himself only a few minute breaks in-between his work. He wanted to keep himself busy. That way he wouldn’t have to think about Claire or Lavi or Eunji or Trystan or Alexander and that teacher or Gabrielle’s tired eyes or Cadence, Werner, Atienna, Maria, Jericho or his parents who were probably waiting for him at home. Waiting for the Ndoto version of him, at least.

Maybe Lavi was right in that regard. Waiting for the day to end and whatnot. He wished she’d been willing to stay in the shop just a little bit longer. 

Olive finished the last touches on the questionable vitae spectrophotometer just as a sunless morning began to break up over the horizon. The others had not been able to find any vials to house the vitae particles to be analyzed so Olive had to use two small shot glasses that Werner had pulled from his cabinet.

The thing was ugly. If Marta saw it, she would probably shed tears. Olive had the idea to modify it to be able to run two tests at once—which now he realized was a stupid idea with the amount of extra tools and time that it took. Adding modifications in uncertain conditions without testing always led to unexpected outcomes—was probably something Werner would tell him if Werner was here here.

Oh well. Time to live with the consequences of his actions.

Sighing, Olive popped open the lid of the device and prepared to place the scrap of cardboard box he’d obtained earlier into one of the two shot glasses nestled inside. He paused and then looked at his hand.

The most pressing question he had right now was not what this cardboard piece was made out of but…. what he was made out of, what an Ndotoan was made out of, what an affected person was made out of.

I sound like a serial killer, Olive thought. He could always get a sample from himself to see what the vitae of a ‘normal person’ but for an Ndotoan or an affected person…? His mind drifted to Werner.

Olive glanced at the backdoor leading to the kitchen. Nico and Werner had gone back there a few hours ago to head to bed. He couldn’t just go barging in and disturbing them when they were sleeping. What if he… found them in a compromising position? Ugh. Gross.

Still. Better to at least check if they were awake.

Olive headed through the backdoor and prepared to walk quietly up the stairs but stopped short when he realized someone was standing by the counter in the immediate kitchen.  It was Werner, bent over slightly. He didn’t notice Olive’s presence.

Olive cleared his throat. “Werner?”

Werner jumped slightly and turned. “Oh, Ollie… Are you hungry? Do you want breakfast?”

Olive studied Werner’s face. “Are you… okay?”

Werner looked down.

There was an awkward air between them—no, a distance.

“Are you worried about your cat?”

Werner rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “He’s probably out there scared and alone.”

Olive froze. Werner was crying.

“And I can’t do anything for him.” Werner rubbed his eye again as he fell into a crouch and hid his face. “I couldn’t protect Kaiser. I couldn’t protect Nico. I couldn’t protect you…”

Protect?

“You all got hurt.”

“W-Werner, I’m fine,” Olive reassured him—although it felt like a lie. Hesitantly, he placed a hand on Werner’s head.  “Everything is fine. You can’t be responsible for everyone….”

“J-man is always telling me that I need to be more responsible…” Werner mumbled.

“For yourself, obviously,” Olive muttered. “But not for everyone…” He awkwardly patted the man on the shoulder. It was much easier to talk about these things through their connection but talking out loud…? “It’ll be okay, Werner. I’ll help you look for Kaiser too. And your friends are helping. We’ll find Kaiser soon enough. Plus, I’m fine and Nico is fine. Really. Relax.”

Werner thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right…” He brightened immediately and popped back up to a stand. “Thanks, Ollie. You kind of reminded me of J-man when you said that.”

“Sure…” Olive assumed that was a compliment. After a pause, he asked, “Werner… why did you use the word ‘protect’ earlier?”

“Huh?” Werner stared at him blankly before shrugging. “I couldn’t think of another word…”

Something about this unnerved Olive.

Brushing his unease aside temporarily, Olive drew slowly, “Since you’re up already, Werner, do you mind… if I ask you a favor? I know you’ve already let us take up your store and everything—”

“Of course!” Werner nodded. “Anything for you, Ollie.”

Now Olive felt guilty. Still, he pressed, “I… actually need to take some samples for the project that I’ve been working on… and the best type of sample for it is… a blood sample.” He waited. Werner continued staring blankly. “Could I… take a blood sample from you?”

Werner’s brows knit in confusion but he nodded. “Oh, okay. Anything, Ollie.”

Saints. He was way too trusting and not the brightest. 

A minute later they were standing in front of the vitae spectrophotometer. Werner had a sharp and small knife in his hand, and the way he was holding it made Olive consider calling Nico down for assistance. But Werner pushed the knife into Olive’s hands and nodded encouragingly. After a long an drawn out pause, Olive pierced the top of Werner’s pointer finger with the blade.

“Ouch,” Werner said.

Olive winced for him. “Sorry…”

“Aw, it’s okay, Ollie,” Werner reassured him. “I get a lot worse cuts in the kitchen. Plus Kaiser can be really feisty.” He mimicked cat claws with his hand.

Saints, that was embarrassing. 

“Thanks, Werner.” 

Olive held Werner’s finger over one of the shot glasses inside the device. Once three drops dripped into the glass, he quickly covered the glass. He repeated the steps for his own pointer finger and quickly shut the lid. A switch flick later and the device was humming to life. 

“Well, the shop is opening soon and Otto is out for the day,” Werner said as he applied a cat-themed bandaid over Olive’s wound and then applied one for himself. “So I’ll be busy but just give a shout and I’ll help you as soon as I can—”

The doorbell chimed.

Werner brightened. “And there’s our first custom—” Then his gaze darkened—which startled Olive. “Get out.”

Olive turned and registered Ludwing and Viktoria standing there. Between them stood a rather large dog with pointed ears. The sight of it bewildered Olive because the only animal he ‘recalled’ seeing outside the zoo was Kaiser.

Fenrir, Olive realized. It was Fenrir. 

“We just want to talk,” Ludwig said, hands raised. “Please.”

“We don’t need to talk,” Werner snapped, balling his fists. “And if we do talk, I’ll let my fists do the talking—” He took a step back as Fenrir abruptly approached him with a wagging tail. “W-What is that thing?!”

Fenrir continued to sniff at him as Werner backed away further and further.

“It’s Fenrir,” Viktoria explained, pacing forward and pulling Fenrir back slightly. “Our dog. We thought we lost her when we arrived here but we found her—rather, she found us—yesterday. She’s friendly, I promise.” She looked between the two. “I think she… recognizes you, Werner—”

The dog’s tail abruptly stopped wagging and her face peeled back into a snarl. She let out a low growl. Werner leapt onto the top of the back counter as it lunged forward and out of Viktoria’s hold. 

“Fenrir, sit!” Ludwig commanded.

Fenrir obeyed immediately, whimpering as it looked between Werner and him.

“I’m sorry…” Viktoria let out a breath as she came to Fenrir’s side again. “She’s never done that before. I thought she recognized—”

Fenrir sniffed at Werner’s shoes before her tail began to wag again. She hopped up on her hind legs and began to whimper and lick at the man’s shoes.

“She does recognize you…” Viktoria threw a look over her shoulder at Ludwig. “You can pet her. She doesn’t bite.”

Werner didn’t look convinced but he fell into a crouch and hesitantly patted her on the head. Fenrir whined and leaned into his touch.  

“This changes nothing.” Werner continued to pet Fenrir.

Nico and Werner’s mother burst in through the back door and entered the store.

“What’s goin’ on here?” Nico asked bewildered. He registered the Waltz siblings. “Ludwig…?”

Ludwig stared at him. “Nico, you’re alright—” He quieted as his gaze fell on his mother.

Olive once again felt like he was intruding on something. Why was this happening so much today?

Ludwig took in a breath and released it. He turned to Werner. “Werner, I apologize for what happened that night. I let my personal feelings and emotions get the better of me and I made assumptions that I shouldn’t have. I should have considered how you felt instead of assuming how you felt.”

Werner slowly lowered himself back onto the ground as he leaned cautiously away from an excited Fenrir.

Ludwig turned to his—Werner’s—mother. “And I apologize to you as well, Miss Waltz.”

Werner’s mother’s expression was unreadable.

“My anger was misdirected. Your appearance is similar to my mother’s and Werner reminds me of my brother. My mother was not the kindest woman and because of the similarities I noticed between you two and my own family members, I reacted to what I perceived was a negative reaction between the two of you poorly. I can see that you and Werner have a good relationship.”

Werner looked between the two.

Werner’s mother said quietly, “Ludwig. I… find your feelings… justifiable.” There was a long pause. “It… sounded like you needed to get those words off our chest at the hospital so I’m glad you did. I… it’s alright, Ludwig.”

Something was strange about her expression. 

“Our… friendship is important to me, Werner,” Ludwig continued. “If it’s alright with you, I would like for us to put this behind us. If not, I understand. Please just don’t hold Victoria accountable for my mistake—”

“Alrighty, I forgive you, Ludwig.” Werner beamed. 

“You do…?”

“Of course! You know my mom always says that the people who recognize and apologize for their mistakes are the best people.” He pointed at Ludwig. “That means that you’re a best people. I’m real sorry for punching you—”

Werner’s mother offered a tight smile before heading to the back of the store. 

Olive let out the breath of tension he was holding. He watched Werner walk around a Fenrir and offer Ludwig and then Victoria a one-armed hug. While it was clear that Ludwig felt relief in Werner’s embrace, it was also clear to Olive that Ludwig’s feelings towards Werner’s mother were still cold as steel. And yet he had been willing to put his grievances aside for Werner. For his sibling. 

Siblings.

Ndoto seemed to have caused them to grow closer. Not only the Waltz’s but the Sagittarians too. Maybe Atienna’s siblings were the exception.

Olive thought of Lavi. 

Saints, he felt lonely.