What Lies at The Bottom

by SourToothGargoyle

Summary:

Fredrick finds something incredibly interesting at the bottom of a well, unaware of how that something would change the course of his life forever

Chapter 1: I

Frederick had only been living by himself for a few weeks before everything began, in a small cottage from the kind old woman who sold it to him, the home isolated in the woods.
He’d wanted somewhere tranquil to clear his mind for composing his music, but he didn’t know quite what he was getting into by purchasing the property. He’d never lived alone before, and it took quite a bit to get used to all the labour he needed to do to keep everything in order. The summer heat had him rarely wearing his overcoat, instead just walking around with his shirt and vest, his pants and sleeves rolled up to relieve some of the discomfort.

It was nice, having no one to bother him about things like that, but also somewhat lonely. He’d walked down to the nearby town a few times to meet his neighbors and purchase some essentials, but they all seemed somewhat wary of him, not that he could blame them. They all seemed to know each other very well, and weren’t too keen on knowing him.

He stood in the weed riddled front garden, sighing at the state of it. He didn’t know the first thing about gardening, but even he could tell it was going to take a lot of work. He knew he’d have to get to it eventually, but he’d been putting it off in favour of other chores around the house, hoping it might magically fix itself somehow. Even if he did get it back up and running, it likely wouldn’t produce much. It would be mediocre, just like everything else he did.

He was nearly startled out of his wits when heard the loud caw of a raven, turning to glare at it, only to find it looking right back at him. The local wildlife certainly had it’s… charms, one of which was a flock of ravens that seemed to frequent the area. No, it was called a murder of ravens, wasn’t it? Or was that crows? He could scarcely tell the difference.

During his impromptu staring contest with the bird, he came to admire the iridescent sheen on it’s dark feathers, having never noticed they were actually quite beautiful if you stopped to look at them. It let out a quieter croak, ruffling it’s feathers before settling back onto its branch, before promptly returning into it’s stare into his soul.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Frederick said aloud, raising an eyebrow at it continued to look at him.

Its gaze was eerily intelligent, and he shivered when it crowed again, almost like a response. He shook his head, rubbing his temple. The heat really must have been getting to him. Maybe he’d finally lost it, and would descend into a spiral of madness out here all on his own like his family expected from him.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the flapping of wings, and when he looked over to the flimsy garden table in which he’d lain his coat, he saw two other ravens pecking at it and pulling things from the pockets.

“Hey!” He shouted, and the bird rummaging around in his pocket looked up at him like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar. Pinched between it’s beak was the familiar leather of his wallet, and by the time Frederick had lunged forwards to try and catch it, it had already taken flight.

He cursed loudly, and began tearing through the woods after it, relieved it at least seemed to be flying low enough for him to follow. Twigs scratched at his arms and face, but he couldn’t afford to look away for even a moment, scared of losing sight of it.

He chased the raven into an open clearing, scattered with some kind of ancient ruins of a building that had once stood there. He slowed down a bit to curiously observe his surroundings, the bird flying and landing on something at the centre. The old woman who’d sold him the house told him he might find some old ruins in the woods nearby, and that generally he should stay away from them.

It was odd, now that he was thinking back on it, that she’d said that, but he’d mostly assumed that it was for safety reasons, to not get crushed by crumbling old buildings and whatnot. The clearing was pretty open, so he decided not to worry about it, not much more than fallen pillars and the remnants of old stone walls remaining. He thought that one of the walls was what the raven had landed on, but upon closer inspection it actually seemed to be a well, the wood part covering the top having rotted so much that it had fallen over, leaving it open to the sky.

The bird watched him intently as he inched his way closer, perched on the edge, dangling his wallet directly over it. Those intelligent eyes seemed to know exactly what they were doing, and he stopped, glaring at the bird from a few feet away.

“Don’t you dare.” He scowled, and it blinked at him innocently as though it could do no wrong, before dropping his money down into the deep pit below.

“You wretched bird!” He shouted, chasing the raven off and quickly looking over the edge, just in time to see it splash into the water, approximately fifteen meters below.

He let out a defeated groan, resting his forehead on the edge of the well. Looking down again, he realized with a growing dread that he’d have to retrieve it himself. He had access to modest funds out here in the country, and unless he didn’t feel like eating for a week, he was going to need his money back. He supposed he could take some out of his savings, but that felt like letting the raven win.

His gaze wandered to the ground where the well’s top was rotting, and he caught sight of the rope that was still wrapped around it, an idea striking him very suddenly.

He managed to peel the rope from the wood, and found that it was still relatively sturdy, and definitely more than long enough to reach the bottom of the well. He supposed it made sense, as its free end had probably been attached to bucket at one point, to retrieve water from down below.

Frederick wasn’t much of a strong climber, and he didn’t exactly fancy getting stuck down a well, so he tried knots along the rope to make it easier for him to get back up. He used a pocket knife to sever it from the well’s roof, and tied it was well as he could to a nearby tree.

With how his day was going, the image of the knot slipping and the rope falling was all too clear in his mind, so he might have overdone it in making sure it was secure, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

He gathered the rest of the rope's length, spilling out of his arms and dragging on the mixture of grass and cobblestones beneath his feet. It’s weight made his muscles ache, but he managed to get it over the side of the well, dumping it down to unravel on it’s own.

After a few moment there was another splash, louder than the one his wallet had made, and he looked over the edge, surprised to find that even with the knots he’d made, the rope made it all the way down to the water.

“That’s lucky.” He muttered to himself, before grimacing as he realized he was actually going to do this.

He took off his shoes, and rolled up his pants even more, taking off his vest and rolling up his sleeves. He was starting to get cold feet as he looked over the edge, but the thought of his money at the bottom was enough to convince him.

Climbing over the edge, he glared at the ravens who were still watching him from the trees, before he began lowering himself down, using the knots like rungs on a ladder.

Compared to the hot summer sun, the air inside of the well was much cooler, and felt amazing against his skin. The relief was so nice, he wondered if he should go swimming more when it got too hot. As he got lower and lower, the stones got colder and slipperier, feeling almost slimy by the time he was more than halfway down.

He wrinkled his nose at the texture, trying his best not to stain his clothes with the algae-like substance that covered the well’s walls. He grabbed the wall to readjust himself, only to find his hand slipped right off, making him lose his grip on the rope entirely, plummeting towards the water below.

Letting out an undignified scream, he tried his best to protect his head, falling feet first into the water, taking a deep breath of air, before cutting through it like a knife.

He shut his eyes as he sunk deep down, and realized that this might be good. If he sunk far enough he’d waste less of his breath swimming down to the bottom, and he could grab his wallet and swim right back up.

Unfortunately, his momentum didn’t carry him to the far enough, his feet never touching the bottom. His sinking slowed, and he opened his eyes, intending to look down to see how much further he had to go, but something else caught his attention first.

In front of him floating, was a man. No- if it was down here it had to have been a corpse.

He let out a startled scream, which escaped his lungs in a burst of bubbles, making their way up to the surface. He quickly covered his mouth, realizing he didn’t have much left, and desperately began swimming for the surface, a pit of dread in his stomach.

He broke to the surface with a loud gasp, blindly groping for the rope so he could use it to catch his breath. After wiping the water out of his eyes, he realized his heart was thundering, though whether it was from holding his breath, or the terror of his unexpected discovery, he couldn’t tell.

The thought of a body below him in the water made him incredibly uneasy, though he wasn’t sure why. If they were already dead, there’s nothing they could do to hurt him.

As his breathing calmed and his thoughts settled, he began to assess the situation, deciding what to do next.

He had to tell someone, obviously. If there was a body at the bottom of this well, then someone had probably tried to hide it there, meaning it was more than likely he’d stumbled across a crime scene. Did that mean someone in town was the murderer? He shuddered at the thought, wondering if perhaps it could have been him down there instead.

Sooner or later, they’d have to pull it out of the well to identify the man, as well as perhaps give closure to any loved ones he might have. He wondered if he should do that now, or get someone’s help first. What would he even tell them? That he’d found a body at the bottom of a well in the woods? If they hadn’t thought him crazy before, surely they would now.

He frowned, wondering if maybe he was. Was it possible he’d imagined it? He didn’t want to go crying wolf and wasting everyone’s time, if he did they’d lock him up in an asylum for sure. He’d check to make sure it hadn’t been some kind of hallucination first, then he would go get help.

He looked down at the shimmering water, but the sun was directly over the well, making it impossible to see past the surface. He sighed, taking a deep breath and diving back down.

Surprisingly the water wasn’t too dirty, and as he dove back down a second time, he got a better look at the man in the well.

It was strange. He didn’t look like a corpse. He wasn’t bloated or decaying in any visible way, but his tattered white suit looked as though it had seen better days. Held in place by a still furrowed brow was a cracked monocle, and he had brown unkept hair that floated around his face. If he hadn’t been underwater, Frederick might have guessed he was sleeping.

He was floating too, which was strange, considering his body likely should have floated to the top or sank to the bottom, but as he looked down, he realized why. There were shackles clamped around to his ankles, attached to rusty old chains that disappeared into the dark, far deeper than he was comfortable swimming. So much for his wallet.

After resurfacing for air once again, he emerged even more confused than before. How on earth had someone chained a man to the bottom of a well? Why? If he even tried to explain this to anyone, he’d be in a looney bin before he could finish telling them.

He needed to get the body out on his own, at least so someone would believe him. How was he supposed to do that when it was chained to the bottom?

An image flashed in his mind of the old bolt cutters he had in the shed. They’d come with the house along with a collection of other miscellaneous tools, but until now he hadn’t really had a reason to use them. With a sudden bout of determination, he began climbing the rope up to the top. Whoever this man was, he deserved to be properly laid to rest, even if Frederick had to pull him out of the well himself.

He didn’t even bother to put his shoes back on as he ran back to the cottage, his feet getting covered in dirt and grass. It made him uncomfortable, but there were more pressing matters at hand, so he focused on not cutting his feet on anything instead. After wrestling with the stiff shed door for a few minutes, he emerged victorious with his prize, running back as fast as he could, the bolt cutters under his arm.

Climbing down with them was a little bit awkward, but he wasn’t too concerned with falling. He even dropped from a little ways up, hoping the momentum would carry him deeper like it had the first time, saving himself time and energy. This time, he was more prepared, and got his bearings more quickly.

The bolt cutters helped weigh him down, and as he got the blades clamped around one of the chain’s links, he looked up at the man for a moment, wondering if this was a good idea. He shook his head, realizing he didn’t have enough air to think about that right now, and he squeezed the handles together, which took a tremendous amount of effort.

As the chain snapped, it felt almost as though Frederick had done something he wasn’t supposed to. The vibration rung through the water in a strange manner, but he didn’t have much time left, so he quickly got to work on the second chain.

His lungs began to ache, and the second chain seemed to be substantially sturdied than the last, but he could feel that it was almost broken, so he squeezed a little bit harder until there was another loud snap.

The snap was followed by the sound of air escaping something, and as the legs began thrashing he realized it had been the air from the man’s lungs. He was alive.

Frederick desperately clawed for the surface, but they were both a mess of grabbing limbs, dragging each other downwards in an attempt to get higher. His lungs were burning now, and the panic began to set in.

With the last bit of oxygen left in his lungs, he violently shoved the thrashing man away from him, and managed to grab the rope, pulling himself to the surface.

He gasped and coughed for air, blood returning to his brain, and as he caught his breath, he realized that the other man wasn’t surfacing. Bubbles floated up from down beneath and he let out an exasperated sigh, diving back down after him.

The sudden burst of energy that the man had seemed to have vanished, leaving him unable to swim to the surface, instead sinking slowly towards the bottom, his body slack and his eyes closed. Frederick swam down and managed to pull him up to the surface, mostly relying on the rope to do so.

As Frederick frantically scrambled to get the man’s head above water, he heard him coughed out a mouthful of it, before going limp again in his arms. He cursed to himself under his breath over and over again, wondering how on earth this was possible. A minute ago, the man in his grasp hadn’t been breathing, but now he was. He was, and now Frederick somehow had to get him out of here without him drowning.

He had no idea what to do. Getting a dead body out of a well was one thing, getting a living person out was something else entirely. He tried shaking the man awake, but he seemed to be out cold for the moment, which really didn’t make this any easier.

Awkwardly readjusting himself the best he could without dipping the unconscious man’s head under the water, he got to work trying to tie the rope under his arms in a sort of harness that would keep his top half from sinking in. Of course this was easier said than done, and by the time he finished he was shivering from the ice cold water, his fingertips numb.

Only after doing this did he realize that he’d also need to climb up the rope, which meant he’d have to climb over him to get higher. He apologized profusely as he grabbed this complete stranger and used them as a stepping stone, trying his best to avoid kicking him in the head.

Once he was past the man, it was simply a matter of climbing up, and as soon as he was he lay basking in the warmth of the sun for a moment. It was getting late, and he doubted he had enough time to go get help before the sun set, which meant he’d have to pull up the man himself.

After catching his breath for a bit, he set to work.

Frederick wasn’t quite sure how he’d pulled up the weight of an entire person by nothing but a rope on his own, but he imagined it might have something to do with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. If he didn’t succeed, this man would die, and the thought made him push past his physical limits, gritting his teeth so hard that it made his entire skull ache.

By the time he pulled the unconscious man over the side of the well, his arms were completely numb and his hands were stripped raw and bloody from the rope burn. He squeezed his eyes shut to blink away tears, and when he looked up at the sky he saw that twilight had already fallen, and that he was losing light very quickly.

He nearly let out a sob when he realized his work wasn’t over. While he had dried off somewhat, the stranger was still soaked through, and if Frederick left him out here overnight he might catch hypothermia and die.

The bones in his arms felt like liquid, but he had to get him up to the house. Under normal circumstances Frederick would have tried to use a bridal carry, but he honestly didn’t have the strength. So, after cutting the rope, he grabbed him and began dragging him like a dead animal across the forest floor, blood and dirt staining the man’s once white suit. The trip back up to the house felt ten times longer than it had earlier, but somehow he managed to get them both through the front door, using the last of his strength to heave the man onto his couch, before wandering around like a drunkard looking for the matchbox to start a fire.

He found it in the cupboard, but when he brought it over to the fireplace, it just spilled matches all over the floor, his hands too shaking and numb to be of any use. He didn’t know if it was the pain or the cold, and at this point he didn’t particularly care.

He collapsed on top of the man on the couch, hoping with a last ditch effort that perhaps his body heat would be enough. Resting his head on the stranger’s chest, the soft beat of his heart began lulling him to sleep, and he was too tired to try and resist it.

He would only rest for a few minutes, surely the man he was sleeping on top of wouldn’t mind. Just for… a bit.

Chapter 2: II

Summary:

Orphy’s perspective! I’m glad you guys seem to like this silly little fic. I’ll try my best to update it until my inspiration runs dry, as it usually does with these unfortunately. Also this chapter hasn’t been beta’d so apologies for any small errors you might spot!

The first thing he woke to was cold and darkness. He was floating, and realized quickly that he was underwater, due to the fact that air could escape his lungs, but not enter them. A deep survival instinct within him tried desperately to claw to the surface, but something was pulling him down, attacking him.

He fought for his life, but his energy quickly gave out, and soon he had no choice but to give up. Whatever creature that had been wrestling with him had made it to the surface, and he felt himself sink further and further, deeper down into the darkness. His limbs felt like lead, and with the way he was sinking he wouldn’t be surprised if they were.

Suddenly a figure blotted out the light above him, and he wondered if someone was coming save him, but didn’t want to get his hopes up. His consciousness was dimming again by the time he felt himself being pulled upwards, and the last thing he remembered before blacking out was coughing up some water out of his lungs.

. . .

The next time he regained consciousness, he felt much worse. It was difficult to breathe and his entire body felt like it was burning up from the inside. He flinched when he felt something cold and wet on his forehead, and found he was too weak to even groan in response.

He distantly registered the sound of a voice, but ears felt as though they were stuffed with cotton, and he couldn’t make out a single thing they were saying. It was low and melodic, a man, if he had to guess. He sounded worried.

He tried to open his eyes to catch a glimpse of the man, but found his eyelids were too heavy to fully open, and he could hardly see past his eyelashes. He felt a cold hand touch his face, and heard worried murmurs, again, something he was too tired to decipher.

It was too painful to be awake, so he let himself drift back into unconsciousness, and wondered if perhaps he might be dying. The thought wasn’t as frightening as he thought it would be. Anything would better than this. He searched his mind for a reason he might want to live, but came up with nothing.

Still, it’s not as though he had a choice. He was too weak to even open his eyes, and it seemed his fate was entirely up to the man who was caring for him. He slowly became familiar with the man as he drifted in and out of consciousness, catching blurry glimpses of long white hair, but never much more. He could never process what he was saying, but his tone was soothing and pleading, as though asking him not to die. The thought made his heart ache a little, and he felt bad he couldn’t remember their name.

Every once in a while, he would distantly hear music. It sounded miles away, but he clung to the faint sound whenever he heard it. Someone was playing an old grand piano, though he doubted it was in the same room as him. He wondered if it was the man taking care of him, or perhaps someone else. Either way, the sound was comforting. If he focused on the melody, it seemed as though the pain in his head would fade slightly, making breathing easier. He clung to it like a lifeline, and it often lulled him into a more restful sleep than before.

He wasn’t sure how long this went on for, but after what felt like a few days he finally mustered the strength to become fully conscious. He was alone, laying down on something plush and comfortable, and when he opened his eyes he squinted and the bright sunlight that filtered in through the windows, lighting up what looked to be a small cottage.

His mouth was dry and his throat was itchy, but when he tried to sit up he was overcome with vertigo, nausea swimming inside his skull. He groaned, closing his eyes and choosing instead to focus on his breathing, which was noticeably much easier than it had been before. That was a good sign, at least.

Instead of getting up, he turned his head to the side to get a better look at the room he was in, trying to assess where exactly he was. It was relatively open, and looked to be a combination of a kitchen and a living room, a hearth not too far from where he was lying. It was quaint, homely even, though he couldn’t say he recognized it at all.

Suddenly, he then heard the sound of someone else walking around the house, moving about in another room. The footsteps grew closer and as the door began to open, he scrambled to sit up again, hoping to meet his host with some kind of dignity. The nausea returned, but this time he was ready for it, and he could already feel it subsiding as he finally got a good look at the man who’d been taking care of him.

He looked exhausted, to put it mildly. There were dark circles under his eyes that suggested he hadn’t slept well in days, and his silvery white hair was a mess falling over his shoulders. His hands were bandaged, though it didn’t look too serious.

He didn’t even seem to notice that his guest was awake for a moment, but when he did his eyes widened in shock.

“O-Oh, you’re awake!” He gasped, clearly out of it.

He tried to speak in return but the dryness in his throat sent him into a coughing fit instead, and his host scrambled around the kitchen before shakily handing him a glass of water. He drank the entire glass down greedily, before wiping his face with his sleeve where some of the water had dribbled down his chin.

“Th-Thank you,” He managed to rasp out, his voice not much more than a whistle.

The man took the glass from him and placed it on a nearby table, sitting down next to him on a small stool he hadn’t noticed before.

“Thank goodness,” He sighed in relief, rubbing his eyes. “For a moment there I really thought you weren’t going to make it.”

He looked at the disheveled man before him, and tried his best to put a name to his face. He stared long and hard, but couldn’t for the life of him recall who this was.

“Where…” He pinched the bridge of his nose, slowly massaging it. “Where am I, exactly?”

“Ah! You’re… you’re um, in my house, I suppose.” The white haired man said awkwardly, and for a moment they just stared at each other, unsure of how to proceed. “O-Oh, right of course! I haven’t even introduced myself to you yet, how rude of me. Frederick Kreiburg. I found you in… um, I found you.”

Oh. So they didn’t know each other. Why had he been so uncertain of that? What exactly was he doing here?

“I… If you don’t mind, could you tell me what… happened?” He asked Frederick uncertainly, and the man blinked at him in surprise.

“I was honestly hoping you could tell me.” He chuckled. “I don’t think you’ll believe me if I told you where I found you.”

“Why, where did you find me? I- how did I get here?”

“As for how you got here, I um, carried you here myself. Where I found you…” He sighed, shaking his head. “You really aren’t going to believe me.”

“Try me.”

“I found you at the bottom of well.” He said, brushing some hair out of his face before he continued. “In the water. Your legs were chained to the bottom, and I thought you were dead at first, because you weren’t breathing. I cut the chains, and it’s like you came back to life. I don’t know how it’s possible, but it happened.”

He blinked, looking down for a moment. “I… I do remember… water.” He said slowly, recalling the feeling of almost drowning. He fully sat up, lifting the blanket on top of him, and spied the shackles that were still around his ankles, rusted shut but thankfully overtop his crusty feeling pants. He got the feeling they hadn’t been washed for a while.

“Do you remember how you got there?”

He didn’t. In fact, before the fuzzy memory of his struggle underwater, he couldn’t remember much of anything at all. That couldn’t be right, could it?

“I… I can’t- I can’t remember.” He began searching for any scrap of memory, something, anything, but found that his past had been completely erased. “I can’t remember anything.” He gasped, panic gripping his heart.

He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to remember anything about himself, but it all felt so impossibly far away. He gripped his head, sharp pains appearing every time he tried to dig deeper. There was something there, just beyond the fog, but something about it terrified him. He could hear distant screams, feel pain, anguish, boiling up inside of him from an unknown source, and he began losing himself in it.

The weight of a hand on his shoulder managed to ground him, pulling him out of his head and back to reality. Frederick was looking at him, a deeply concerned expression on his face, as though he’d just coughed up blood or something.

“That’s- That’s alright, I’m sure it will come back to you eventually.” He said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “…Can you at least remember your name?”

He blinked blankly, and spoke before his brain even had the chance to catch up.

“…Orpheus.” He said, surprising himself.

Frederick gave him a small smile, tilting his head a little. “What a peculiar name,” he mused, before shaking his head and realizing he was being a bit strange. “I mean- good. It’s a nice name. Orpheus.”

“…It’s the only thing that comes to mind.”

“That’s alright, it’s a good placeholder for now.” Frederick mumbled tiredly, his eyelids drooping as he all but fell asleep whilst upright.

“Mr. Kreiburg…?” He asked tentatively, but he didn’t reply, swaying dangerously like he about to fall right off the stool he was sitting on.

“Frederick!”

“Hmm?” He hummed, blinking himself awake. “Ah, apologies, I suppose it’s been a while since I last slept.”

Orpheus, as he now knew himself as, frowned slightly, brow furrowed in concern. “How long has it been since you found me?” He asked, worried that in taking care of him, this man had neglected to take care of his own health as well.

“Mm… three… no, four days?”

“…Have you not slept that entire time?”

Frederick paused for a moment too long as he tried to remember, before sighing, putting his head in his hands.

“It’s… fine. I’ve slept some, but not well. You were practically on the brink of death, and I didn’t want to risk falling asleep only to wake up to you dead on my couch.” He grumbled into his hands, and Orpheus hesitantly reached out a hand to comfort him.

“…Thank you.” He said, carefully considering his words. “If it weren’t for you, I’d… I owe you my life.”

Frederick looked up at him in surprise, before letting out a tired chuckle, shaking his head.

“No, no, it’s quite alright… I was just doing- what anyone would do.” He muttered, more to himself than anything. “You must be starving, let me make you something to eat.”

Orpheus was about to protest, as this man was clearly not in a state to be doing just about anything, but a loud growl in his stomach cut him off. He hadn’t noticed it hurting until now, and it was suddenly all he could think about.

“…Promise me you’ll at least try and get some rest, after.”

“Goodness, I’m the one who’s supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around.” He smiled, before standing up and heading over to the kitchen. “But, ah yes, I may take you up on that in a minute or so.”

Thankfully, Frederick managed to make sandwiches for the two of them without chopping any of his fingers off, and they both ate sitting on the couch, not particularly caring about the crumbs they were getting on it.

By the time Orpheus finished his meal, Frederick had already slumped against him, completely unconscious. He couldn’t help but smile a little, rearranging them into a more comfortable position, before he started feeling the siren call of exhaustion himself.

All things considered, he supposed things could have been worse. He had no idea who he was, or anything about how he’d gotten into this situation in the first place, but at least he was alive and breathing. That was enough for now.

He gazed tiredly out the window, and jumped a little as he realized they were being watched. Two ravens stood perched on the window sill, and he couldn’t help but be unnerved by their presence. They seemed to notice his gaze, and they flew off soon after, but something about them felt odd. Maybe he would ask Frederick about it when he woke up. Right now, all he really wanted to do was sleep.

Chapter 3: III

Notes:

I’ve reviewed the god awful spelling errors! I’m so sorry about that. Also I was spelling Frederick’s name wrong. How embarrassing. Anyways, hope you enjoy the chapter!

When he woke, Frederick felt incredibly disoriented. He had some of his own hair in his mouth, which was drier than a desert, his head felt so heavy he thought his skull might have turned to stone, and he couldn’t remember where exactly he was. As he blinked away the blurriness in his vision, he felt something shift underneath him, and when he looked up, he realized with a mortified horror that he’d fallen asleep in Orpheus’ lap.

He let out an embarrassed squeak, throwing himself onto the other side of the couch, having never felt like more of a mess. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep-“

“It’s alright.” The man smiled softly, closing a book that he must have gotten from a nearby table. “It seems like you needed it. My legs were starting to get numb, though.”

“Oh good god, how long have I been sleeping for?” He groaned, wiping the sleep from his face. From how crumby he felt, he assumed it had to have been quite a while.

“Fifteen hours, give or take.” His guest said casually, and he almost choked.

“Fifteen-“ He grabbed his pocket watch off the table, and saw that it was late in the evening, half past eleven to be exact. “That’s- when did you wake up?”

“A few hours ago.”

“And you didn’t think to wake me?” Frederick asked, deeply confused.

“Ah… you looked as though you needed the rest.” Orpheus said, looking away, a bit embarrassed. “I felt partially responsible, considering you’ve clearly been wearing yourself thin taking care of me.”

Frederick blinked, taken aback by the consideration. This man he barely knew had been enough of a gentleman not to move so he could sleep, and here he was, the world’s worst host known to man.

“Goodness, I’m so sorry-“ He stammered, smoothing out his clothes in a vain attempt to look more presentable. “I’m not usually such a horrid host, I swear. I-If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go take a minute to freshen up.” He said, face flushed in embarrassment. He imagined he must look like a proper wreck, making him want to leave the room even more.

“Of course, take your time.” Orpheus said, blinking up at him.

After doing the bare minimum to make himself at least somewhat presentable, Frederick returned to find his guest still curled up on the couch, brow furrowed as he intently read an old novel, squinting a bit, as though it were a bit difficult to see the words.

“Oh!” He said, reaching into his pockets and pulling out the monocle that he’d found with Orpheus. The large crack in the glass was still there, but it wasn’t impossible to see through. He handed it to Orpheus, who just blinked at it in confusion.

“It’s yours,” He explained. “It fell off you when I was dragging you back here, I’m sorry if it’s a bit damaged.”

“Ah… thank you.” He said, fitting it onto his face, before wrinkling his nose at the state of it, taking it off and tucking it into the breast pocket of his vest. “…I suppose I’ll have to get it repaired at some point.”

“I’m sure I could find someone in town capable of doing that,” Frederick sighed, going over the list of people he’d met so far in the little old town. “I should also bring you to Dr. Dyer’s clinic, just so she can check up on you.”

“There’s a clinic nearby?”

“Yes, but unfortunately I live outside of town. I was afraid you would be dead by the time I got you there. Once you’re feeling up to it, I can bring you there to make sure you haven’t sustained any kind of permanent damage.” He said, trying his best to give an encouraging smile. “Or I suppose I could ask her to come here, but I’m not sure how I would explain who you are or how I found you.”

“How you found me…” Orpheus echoed, looking thoughtful. “You said you found me in a well, is that correct? Like a well for water?”

“I know it sounds odd, but I swear to you it’s true.” Frederick said, sitting down next to him. “I have no clue as to how you survived down there, it was like some sort of strange spell.”

He watched the man think to himself, and suddenly noticed that he was just as unkempt, if not more than Frederick was. He supposed it made sense, considering he’d been bedridden for the past few days, but it made him feel a little bit better about his own appearance. He had a bit of scruff growing that he hadn’t noticed before, and his features were sunken with exhaustion. Besides that, however, he was still a relatively attractive man.

He looked lost, confused, and overall troubled by his situation. Like he was trying to put a puzzle together, but he had none of the pieces.

“You really don’t remember anything?” Frederick prompted gently, not wanting him to freak out like he had the first time.

Orpheus shook his head, a sad look crossing his eyes. “I… I don’t. There’s… there’s something there, but it feels as though it’s just out of my reach.”

“…Nothing? Not even any family you might have?” Frederick asked, thinking ahead to once Orpheus was fully healed. Where would he go, if he couldn’t remember who he was?

“I…” He clutched his head, squeezing his eyes shut and clearly trying his best to remember. “…I have a sister, I think.”

“-Good, that’s good!” Frederick sighed in relief. “See, that’s something, isn’t it?“

“I suppose.” Orpheus mumbled, his mood seeming to have raised a little.

“Do you remember her name?”

At this, Orpheus froze. He sat there for a long few moments, and once it was clear that he didn’t have an answer, Frederick opened his mouth to assure him that they could work on it, but it snapped shut when he saw tears gathering in the man’s eyes.

“I…” He inhaled shakily, large tears rolling down his cheeks. “…I can’t even remember her name. I-“ He choked on a sob, quickly wiping his face. “I need to find her, she’s out there alone- I have to-“

He wrestled with the blanket for a moment, before his bare feet hit the floor as he tried to stand, and he let out a cry of alarm as his knees immediately buckled, sending him tumbling out across the floor. Frederick immediately jumped to his feet and tried to help him up, but Orpheus’ legs were shaking so badly it appeared he didn’t even have the strength to stand on his own.

“Easy, Easy.” He soothed as he helped Orpheus back onto the couch, shaking as he sniffled and tried to wipe away tears.

“I… God, I apologize.” He wheezed out, looking visibly shaken. “I- I don’t know what got into me just then.”

“It’s alright,” Frederick laughed nervously. “I’m sure this is all incredibly stressful for you. We’ll look for your sister, I promise, but you’ll need to regain your strength first.”

“I’m… thank you, for all of this, really.” Orpheus smiled, a strange sadness in his eyes, like he wasn’t used to being treated with respect or care. “I hope I’m not causing you too much trouble by being here.”

“Not at all!” He exclaimed, waving his hands about. “It’s- It’s actually nice to have someone around. I’m usually out here all by myself.”

“What about your family?”

“Oh heavens, it’s not like I’m married or anything. This house would probably be too small for a family anyways.”

Orpheus’ brow furrowed as he shook his head. “No, I meant like your relatives.”

Frederick had to suppress a twitch in his face, not wanting Orpheus to think the question had made him angry. Had anyone else asked him about that he’d probably have snapped at them and told them to mind their business, but he had to remember that Orpheus didn’t know anything about him or his reputation. He hadn’t meant anything malicious by it.

“I…” He sighed, closing his eyes. “I have a very… complicated relationship with my family. I’m not-“ He bit his lip to keep himself from oversharing. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Do you know how old she is? Your sister, I mean.”

A worried expression returned to the man’s face. “She’s… quite young from what I remember. I’m worried she might be alone, if I’m not there, But I don’t… I don’t remember where she is.”

“It’s alright, I’m sure we’ll find her.” Frederick smiled softly. “You’ve remembered something at least, which means you might regain more memories as you recover. I’m sure she probably has someone looking after her until you return.”

Orpheus gazed down at his lap, seemingly lost in thought again.

“I hope so.”

. . .

The next few days were less draining on Frederick, seeing as Orpheus seemed to be recovering relatively quickly, though that didn’t mean he was letting the man go anywhere just yet. Of course that didn’t stop him from getting up and trying to wander the space, which usually ended up with Frederick hearing a crash from the other room, running in to find him on the floor again.

He was incredibly stubborn, Frederick found, and always insisted he was fine even if he wasn’t. It was clear he was getting restless laying on the couch all day reading various novels he’d stolen off of Frederick’s bookshelf, so the musician pulled out his old cane from the closet, somewhat pleased he remembered he’d held on to it at all.

“It’s yours?” Orpheus asked with raised eyebrows, suddenly treating it as though it was made of glass. “Oh I can’t take this- if you need it-“

“I don’t,” Frederick chuckled, shaking his head. “I had it for when I was recovering from a leg injury some years ago, and kept using it as more of an accessory a while afterwards. I haven’t actually needed it in ages.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course! All it’s been doing is sitting around for the past year or so, at least you’ll actually get some use out of it.” He smiled, before helping the man up to his feet.

He wobbled a little, as he always did, but the cane let him stand up straight and keep his balance. A wide grin appeared on his face as he took a couple of clumsy steps without falling, but the moment he leaned his weight away from the cane, again he folded like paper.

Fortunately, Frederick had gotten better at catching him. Orpheus grasped his arm in a death clutch for a moment before regaining his balance with a sheepish chuckle. “I suppose I’ll have to work on it.”

“Perhaps we can go for a walk later, a bit of fresh air would do you some good. I feel a bit bad keeping you cooped up in here all the time.” Frederick offered with a smile, and he didn’t miss the way the man’s eyes lit up a bit.

“That sounds wonderful, thank you.”

The time Orpheus didn’t spend eating, sleeping, or reading, he would watch the birds from the window. He was clearly fascinated by their behavior, and through him Frederick had learned much more about the local avian community than he probably would have ever noticed himself.

Sometimes it was silly little things, like which birds got into squabbles over the seed in his bird feeder or imagined little dramas that he invented between them, but he also said some jarringly ominous things on accident as well.

It usually had to do with the ravens. It started with him expressing how he felt unnerved that they always seemed to be watching through the windows, but gradually it just shortened to things like, “They’re watching.” or, “They’re here again.” But Orpheus seemed to just have a tendency to say odd things like that when he wasn’t paying attention, and was often confused when Frederick asked him about it, so he didn’t pay it much mind.

They decided to make the outing something of a picnic, as lunch was approaching and the idea of it sounded delightful. Frederick couldn’t think of many good spots except for the clearing where he’d found the well, which he didn’t think was appropriate, but Orpheus insisted he might remember something if he saw it himself, so that’s where they ended up deciding to go.

The small path that led there was uneven and somewhat steep, and they were halfway down when he realized that this had probably been a bad idea.

“Do you want to go back?” He asked Orpheus, who was sweating and trying very hard not to fall.

“N-no, I’m fine!” He said, his eyes glued to the ground as he nearly tripped over various roots.

“…Are you sure? We could just eat on the porch if this is too much for you.”

Orpheus paused to take a breath, before looking back at how far they’d come, and he sighed. “Well we’ve already made it this far, haven’t we? Besides, I'll have time to rest while we eat.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

When they got to the clearing, Frederick laid out a blanket in some shade and set down the basket with their food, glaring suspiciously at the nearby trees for any more thieving menaces. Once he was satisfied that no one would be throwing their food down the well, he then looked to Orpheus, who stood staring at the small glade, gripping his cane like he was expecting to see someone there.

“Orpheus?” He said, which seemed to snap the man out of his trance. “Did you remember something?”

“Ah…” He smiled sadly. “No, unfortunately not. This place doesn’t feel familiar to me at all.”

They both sat on the blanket and ate their lunches, staring at the ruins as though they were a puzzle that would suddenly make sense if they looked at them long enough. After a while, Frederick’s eyes got tired and he laid back with a sigh, gazing at the blue sky through a canopy of leaves and branches.

“Do you know anything about the history of this place?” Orpheus asked, and Frederick turned his head to look at him.

“I don’t, I haven’t lived here very long, but I’m sure some of the townsfolk do. Why?”

“I’m… not sure. I just thought it was a bit strange. Why would you construct a building around a well? Is that something that people do?”

Frederick sat up, looking at the crumbled walls and realized he was right. There had been a building here at one point, closing off access to the well. “…Perhaps someone lived here, and had a well installed inside?”

“No, Look,” Orpheus whispered, pointing to the base of the well. “The cobblestone floor surrounds the dirt, almost like it was built on top.”

“That… is strange.” Frederick blinked, surprised he hadn’t noticed. “You think it has something to do with why you were in there?”

Orpheus stared for a moment and then sighed. “I don’t know. Probably not. I’m probably overthinking this, aren’t I?”

“No, no,” Frederick said quickly. “It’s something, at least. Even if it’s not related to how you got there, I still think it’s a good idea to look into any history we can find. Maybe there’ll be something recent enough that it can provide us with a clue.”

“You think so?”

“There’s no harm in checking.” He shrugged. “Especially with how little we have to go on. We can ask the librarian, I know he’s well versed in this area’s history.”

“There’s a library?” Orpheus, perking up like a child who’d heard mention of free candy, and Frederick couldn’t but let out a fond chuckle.

“There is. That reminds me, I do need to return some of my books, they’ll be overdue soon.”

“Wait, which ones?” Orpheus frowned. “Not any one of the ones I’m reading right now, I hope.”

Frederick suddenly felt the tickle of mischief, raising an eyebrow at the man’s adorable pout. “Hmm, I’m not sure, I suppose I’ll just have to check.” He grinned, tapping his chin.

“Frederick.”

“Mhm?”

“-You have to tell me which ones are from the library so I can finish them before you return them!” He said, sounding exasperated and somewhat distressed.

Frederick couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Oh don’t worry, It’s not like we have to go tomorrow. They won’t be overdue for quite a while anyways.”

Orpheus sighed, placing his face in his hands, making Frederick giggle.

“You really like reading, don’t you? How on earth do you stay focused on something for that long?” He asked.

“I… I’m not sure. I suppose I just like to get lost in a good story.”

Frederick smiled sadly, realizing that the man probably enjoyed the stories so much was because he didn’t have one of his own.

“I can understand the feeling, I suppose.” He sighed, resting his chin on his hand. “It’s nice to escape for a while, pretend you’re someone else.”

“You still haven’t told me much about yourself.” Orpheus said, with a curious tilt of his head. “Is there a reason?”

“No… I just… I’m nothing special, really.”

“That’s not true. You’re a very talented musician.”

Frederick’s eyes widened in surprise. “I haven’t played anything for you yet, how did you know that?”

It was Orpheus’ turn to smile slyly, as he sat back with a chuckle.

“Well first of all, nearly every room in your house is covered in sheet music. I’ve looked at some of them, and they look far more complicated than anything I’d ever be able to understand.”

“Well that’s-“

“Also I did hear you play.”

“I- what? When?” Frederick frowned. He hadn’t played anything on the piano in the past couple of days in fear he might bother Orpheus in his rest, despite how much his fingers itched to.

“When you were taking care of me.” Orpheus explained. “Before I completely woke up, I could hear you playing in the other room.”

“Ah-“ Frederick let out a nervous chuckle. “I apologize, I was very stressed and music helps me- it helps me remain calm.”

“You don’t need to apologize, I thought it was wonderful.”

Frederick looked him in the eyes for any trace of a white lie, a twitch in his face that said he was just being polite, but he was struck by just how genuine his smile was. It made his face flush in embarrassment, forcing him to look away.

“I- Th- Thank you.” He stammered, subtly trying to rub the heat out of his cheeks. “…You’re awfully observant, you know that? I probably wouldn’t have noticed something like that.”

Orpheus shrugged. “I guess. I’m trying my best to remember every little detail the best I can. I worry about forgetting things. Well, any more than I’ve already forgotten, at least.”

Again, Frederick felt a pang of sympathy for the man. It must have been a frightening thing, not being able to remember your past. He supposed they had no way of knowing if this was an isolated incident or if it was something normal for him. He hadn’t shown any signs of mental deterioration as far as Frederick could tell, but he was far from an expert on such things.

“That makes sense,” He said, considering Orpheus’ situation. “But if you remember something as vague as me playing the piano in another room while you were unconscious, I don’t think you need to worry too much about it.”

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “I suppose you’re right. Still, our worries aren’t always defined by logic, are they? Where one’s head may know the truth, his heart may still be fooled.”

Frederick raised an eyebrow at him, a grin appearing on his face.

“That was awfully poetic of you. I’m starting to think you may have been some kind of writer before we met.” He teased, throwing a pebble in his direction.

Orpheus tried and failed to catch it, wrinkling his nose as it harmlessly bounced off his chest and into his lap. “You think? I was just saying what came to mind.”

“I think it’d make sense, you’re quite the poet.”

The compliment seemed to fluster him a little, opening his mouth to deny it, but clearly not wanting to be rude. “…Maybe.”

Frederick squinted up at the blazing sun, sweat beginning to form on his brow. He was reminded of the coolness of the well, and almost wanted to go back down there. Almost, being the key word.

He perked up as he suddenly remembered there was a small lake nearby, which seemed like the perfect place to cool off. It was so hot out, their clothes would probably be somewhat dry by the time they returned home.

“Orpheus, do you remember if you can swim?”

He blinked slowly, looking suspicious. “I… think so, why?”

“Come on,” He beamed, suddenly pulling the man to his feet. “Let’s go do something fun! There’s still a few hours of daylight left, and it’s not like we have anywhere else to be.”

Orpheus laughed, stumbling a bit to get to his feet as he grabbed his cane. “Alright, Alright, wait up will you?”

. . .

Chapter 4: IV

Notes:

BOOM MEGA CHAPTER. Shout out to all the folks over on the orphrick server and everyone who’s commented! Your support has been monumental in inspiring me to continue this.

PLOT STUFF HITS THE FAN. TW: Mentions of blood, death, dementia, memory loss, french people, derealization (?), minor panic attacks. Nothing too graphic but I’ve definitely upped some of the horror elements.

“Well, besides the muscle atrophy and the fading signs of malnutrition, you seem to be in relatively good health. I assume you’ve been bedridden for some time, but you seem to have completely recovered from whatever illness you had.” The doctor, Emily Dyer as they’d been introduced, said, tapping her pen on the clipboard she was holding

“Illness?” Orpheus repeated, brow furrowing in confusion.

She looked at him, a little bit perplexed. “Is there another reason you were out of commission for so long? You don’t seem to have any external injuries as far as I can tell.”

“-Right!” Frederick cut in, saving him from having to come up with some kind of explanation. “He was sick. He had a fever for a while, but I’m relieved to hear he’s all better now.”

“…If you have any other concerns, I suggest you let me know.”

Orpheus looked to Frederick, not entirely sure what the man wanted to keep secret, unable to ask out loud without sounding suspicious. He wasn’t sure why exactly Frederick was so intent on being secretive about it, but with all that he'd done for him, Orpheus wasn’t going to ask.

“Orpheus has… recently had issues with memory loss, if that’s something you know anything about.” The musician said slowly, carefully choosing his words.

Ms. Dyer’s expression became concerned. “Memory loss? Has it been frequent?”

“Not exactly.” Orpheus said, speaking for himself this time. “It’s only happened once, as far as I’m aware. I just can’t remember anything prior.”

“Oh,” She smiled, sighing in relief. “I did think you were a bit young for dementia. It’s strange though, you didn’t show any signs of head trauma.”

“Are there other causes for memory loss you might know?”

She paused for a moment, thinking to herself. “Your blood results did come back a little strange. There isn’t really anything in your system anymore, but it seems like your illness might have been caused by some sort of withdrawal. It’s possible it was the result of some kind of drug or medication.”

“…I see.”

Orpheus gazed down at his lap, lost in thought. Perhaps he was just some random drunkard who’d had a little too much? No, she likely would have mentioned something about liver damage if that were the case.

“I suppose that makes sense…” He muttered rubbing his temple. “I do feel an excruciating pain whenever I try and overexert my brain. Perhaps I was taking some kind of medication for it and the memory loss was some kind of unforeseen side effect.”

“Pain?” She asked, frowning thoughtfully.

“Is there a problem with that?” Frederick asked worriedly, fiddling with his sleeve as he often did when he was nervous. As soon as he noticed himself doing it, he put his hands in his pockets.

“No, I mean it’s not ideal- but I was just thinking that perhaps this is a psychological issue instead.” She said, putting down her clipboard. “It’s not unheard of for people to block out traumatic memories, whether they mean to or not.”

“Is there anything we can do about it?” Orpheus asked, idly noticing a group of ravens perched on one of the trees outside the window.

If it weren’t for the memory of his sister, he frankly couldn’t care less about uncovering his past. It seemed like a dark and frightening place, and if Dr. Dyer was right, then he’d probably blocked out those memories for a reason. Still, he needed to find her, even if it meant he had to remember some truly horrific things.

“It’s… not in my area of expertise.” She chuckled nervously, shaking her head. “But I could refer you to an old colleague of mine who lives in the city. She specialises in that sort of thing, even uses hypnosis to help some of her patients.”

“We might take you up on that.” He heard Frederick say, but he quickly lost the conversation once he became distracted by the birds outside.

He didn’t want to seem paranoid, but it almost felt like they were following him. They croaked at each other and gazed at him with those beady little eyes of theirs, and as one of them took off, the fluttering of wings seemed to trigger something within him.

He saw blood. A lot of it, pooling on the ground. He had something similar- but wasn’t quite a knife, covered in the same ruby red liquid. He glimpsed his reflection in the blade, but it looked unfamiliar. He tried to wipe away the blood to try and get a better look, a sickening feeling curling in his gut as he did so.

“Orpheus!”

He gasped, coming back to himself, realising he had his hand on the window, not some kind of weapon. Frederick was firmly grasping his shoulder, and clearly had been calling his name for a while now.

“S-Sorry-“ He stammered, shaking his head and trying to clear it of the nauseous feeling inside him. “Just got a bit… distracted is all.”

He felt guilty at the worried look Frederick gave him, and he did his best to pull his face into a smile to ease his concerns. “Really, I’m alright.”

His shoulders relaxed a little, his ploy having been somewhat successful.

“Come on, we’ve got plenty of other places to see before the day’s end.” He smiled, helping Orpheus to his feet and handing him his cane.

He hadn’t even noticed, but it seemed as though their appointment had come to and end, and as they left the clinic Orpheus uncomfortably avoided making eye contact with Dr. Dyer on the way out. He didn’t want to see the same concerned look on her face, because while Fredrick seemed to worry all the time, if she was upset it made it feel like it would make the problem more real.

He didn’t want to deal with that right now and ruin their day out before it had barely even begun. He’d deal with it later.

. . .

They stopped at a small cafe for lunch, the patio giving an incredible view of the town, bathed in the warm glow of the summer sun. At their feet rested the bag Frederick used to carry the library books he planned to return, thankfully all finished by the man sitting across from him.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I do have some things to pick up on our way back.” Frederick said, sipping at a coffee he’d ordered. “Groceries and all that.”

“Not at all.” Orpheus smiled, the gentle breeze tickling his face. He couldn’t lie, it was very beautiful here.

There was an odd sense of peace in the cradle of a small town, and it was nearly enough to make him feel better about his earlier episode. He wondered if he should tell Frederick about it, but decided against it. It was all kind of fuzzy anyways, it couldn’t have been anything too important.

“Lovely place, isn’t it?”

“Hm? Oh the town? Yes, it’s wonderful. Like something out of a picture you’d see on a postcard.” He mused, gazing out at the buildings, one in particular catching his eye. “What’s that building over there for?”

Frederick squinted, but saw what he was talking about rather quickly, as it was hardly small in size. “Ah, that’s the old museum! If we’re looking into the area’s history, we might actually want to stop by there first.”

“A museum? It doesn't look like a museum, at least I don’t think. I can’t really remember what they look like.”

Frederick chuckled, setting down his cup on its saucer. “No, you’re right, it is a bit of an odd one. I think it used to be a mansion, actually. The people who bought it always had terrible luck with the property, so it was converted into a museum, if i'm remembering correctly.“

“What kind of things are on display exactly?”

“Well, the manor itself is hundreds of years old, or so I'm told. Obviously it’s been reconstructed multiple times throughout its history, but over that time it must have accumulated bits of history from all over town.”

“…Interesting.” He mumbled under his breath, anxiously drumming his fingers on the table. He was content in this moment, yes, but something in him was also incredibly restless.

“It is, isn’t it?” Frederick beamed, clapping his hands together. “Oh, this is so exciting, I’ve never actually been! Admission for town residents is free, but I’ve never had a reason to go.”

“Ah… Frederick, I’m not a town resident.”

The musician blinked at him. “Oh! That’s right. Well you’re not exactly a tourist either, so perhaps they’ll make an exception.” He smiled. “If not I don’t mind paying.”

“Oh you don’t have to-“

“Shush, you. I’d like to. Besides, it would be awfully lonely to visit all by myself.” Frederick said, popping the last bite of his pastry into his mouth, before moving to wash it down with some more coffee.

“If you insist, I suppose.” Orpheus smiled.

The walk to the museum was nice, peaceful even. A couple of people stopped to say hello, surprised by his unfamiliar face, but the chats never lasted too long before they both went about their days again. He hadn’t seen the ravens in a while, which was oddly comforting. Perhaps they didn’t like being around too many people.

When they arrived, there was a small group of school children being led by a lady with braided blonde hair. They seemed to be just leaving, and the teacher waved to a man by the entrance who looked to be some kind of staff member.

“Everyone say bye to Mr. Frank!” She said, followed by a small chorus of ‘Bye Mr. Frank!’ From all the children.

Orpheus smiled sadly at the sight, unable to keep himself from comparing them to his sister. Was she as happy as they were, wherever she was? If so, did he have a right to barge back into her life and make things more complicated? He sighed, and he felt Frederick place a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“Come back anytime, Annie!” The man, presumably Mr. Frank, called as they all trailed after the woman like tiny little ducklings. Upon noticing them, his face seemed to light up.

“Mr. Kreiburg, it’s nice to see you!” He beamed, his friendly demeanour a bit overwhelming. “I was wondering when you’d finally decide to come visit.”

“Mr. Frank.” Frederick smiled, shaking the man’s hand. “It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Oh please, you’re a part of the community here, Mr. Kreiburg, just call me Kurt.” He said, before his gaze shifted over to Orpheus who had been standing awkwardly to the side, not wanting to interrupt. “Now there’s a face I don’t recognize. Who’s your friend?”

“Ah! This is Orpheus.” Frederick said, and Orpheus hesitantly stuck out his hand to shake, which Kurt did firmly. “He’s a friend from… out of town. I hope you don’t mind, I know admission for non-residents isn’t free.”

“Of course not! I’d never turn away a curious mind looking to learn our town’s history. I’d give you a tour, but unfortunately I have some business in town to get to right about now. Feel free to look around, as long as you don’t touch anything.” He said, scooting past them out of the building. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Orpheus.”

“Ah- yes, you too.”

After he left, it was only the two of them, standing at the entrance of a large and empty feeling museum, now with its guide absent.

“Is it… really alright for us to just… go inside?” He asked uncertainly, looking around for any other people who might be working there.

Frederick laughed a little. “Looks like they’re a little bit understaffed, but I wouldn’t worry about it. As long as we’re respectful.” He said, before linking their arms together and leading him into the manor.

The large building seemed eerily empty, the clicking of their shoes on the tiles echoing against large marble walls. There weren’t any other visitors in sight, but he supposed they could be somewhere else at the moment. It was very clean, but had that old smell to it, rich with history.

“Strange there’s no one else here.” Frederick commented, taking the words right out of his mouth. “I was under the impression they got most of their business from tourism, but I guess not too many people come out here. I wonder where on earth they get the funding to maintain a place like this.”

“Perhaps it’s not the season?” He suggested with a shrug, gazing at the strange marble statues that lined the hall.

“You’d think summer would be their busiest time of year, but apparently not.”

Somehow, the layout of the building felt somewhat familiar to him. It was strange, but everytime they entered another room, it was almost like he was expecting to see something different. Just a regularly furnished room, not exhibits with artifacts and old paintings.

“This place feels… familiar, somehow.” He mumbled to himself.

“Familiar?” Frederick asked hopefully, startling him a bit as he hadn’t really thought that the man would hear. “You think you’ve been here before?”

“…Possibly? I’m not sure.”

“Well maybe we can ask the museum's curator! We’ve never met, but I heard he’s owned this place for a very long time. If you ever visited in the past, maybe he’ll remember you.”

Orpheus looked at him, surprised. “You think he’d recognize me? Even if I had been here once, I doubt anyone would be able to remember that. It was probably a long time ago.”

“Who knows, maybe he has a photographic memory.” Frederick said, before looking at the serenely empty exhibit around them. “One thing’s for sure, it’s going to take us nearly all day to find anything in this damn place. Maybe if we find him he can direct us towards what we’re looking for.”

“Any Idea where he might be?”

“Not at all.” He sighs, placing a hand on his face. “Hmm. Perhaps we should split up to cover more ground. That way at least one of us is bound to find him.”

“I’m worried I might get lost.” Orpheus joked lightly, as they entered another long hallway.

“No need to worry, you can just meet me back in the lobby if you don’t find anything.” Frederick smiled, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “I’m going to go look for the architecture section, that might have what we’re looking for.”

“Right, I’ll go through this… big door here.” Orpheus said as they approached a more open area.

Frederick nodded, trotting off. “Yell if you find anything!”

While sound did travel remarkably well in the large space of the lobby, the doors were heavy looking, and he imagined it might be hard to hear through them. Unfortunately he didn’t get a chance to voice this concern before Frederick was gone, leaving him alone with nothing to do but explore the exhibit before him.

The door clunked loudly as he entered, and behind him as it closed. The room didn’t seem to be utilising the space as well as the others, leaving most of the floor empty and vacant. He didn’t realise why until he made it to the other side of the room and looked back. Across the curved ceiling was an intricately painted mural, truly breathtaking in its many moving details. He gazed up in awe for a moment, realising that this house wasn’t just housing history, it was part of it.

It looked as though it was depicting a story, though he couldn’t quite make out what it was, only that there were a great deal of birds involved. A lot of them seemed to be ravens, which did nothing to quell his paranoia. He reminded himself that they were simply common birds in the area, and that he was thinking too much about it.

“Wonderful, isn’t it?” A voice asked from beside him, nearly startling him out of his wits.

He nearly toppled over from the fright, but managed to catch himself just in time. Before him was an elegant gentleman with piercing blue eyes and a coat to match.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He laughed, and Orpheus’ pounding heart rate gradually slowed to something more regular. “Beautiful artwork. Do you know the story it depicts?”

Orpheus blinked in astonishment for a moment, before coming back to his wits enough to come up with a reply. “I… no, actually, I don’t.”

The elegant man raised an eyebrow, though more of surprise than scepticism.

“I’m surprised, it’s a pretty common tale.”

His interest had already been piqued by the mysterious mural, but now he was unbearably curious as to what it meant.

“Would you mind telling it to me?” He asked. “Perhaps I’ve just forgotten it.”

The man smiled, but there was a distinct lack of warmth behind it. Something about him seemed strange, but Orpheus couldn’t quite tell what it was.

“Gladly. There’s many different tellings, so I’ll try not to be biassed.” He said, gesturing to a part of the mural, the beginning, if he had to guess.

“It begins with two children lost in the woods,” He said, and true to his words, the painting depicted a little boy and a little girl, lost in a brambled filled wood, looking frightened, the little boy brandishing a sharp stick as a weapon. “They had no one but each other, and the two of them had promised to protect each other, no matter the cost.”

“The boy did not trust anyone, and sought to protect his sister from the world’s evils, and attacked any monster that dared come near.”

The word sister unravelled something in his gut, a lump forming in his throat as he continued to listen to the story.

“One day, when her brother was asleep, the little girl met a bird. The bird saw the difficult situation the two children were in, and looked down at them with sympathy from the branches above.”

Painted in the tree’s branches was a small brown bird, the little girl looking up at it, while the boy was slumped sleeping against the tree’s trunk.

“‘Little girl,’ The bird said sorrowfully, ‘The world has not been kind to the two of you, has it? I am the nightingale, and while I am small and frail as you, there is still something I wish to give you.’

the nightingale flew down and landed on the girl’s finger, bestowing upon her a gift in which she could use to defend herself.

‘I gift you my magic of light and hope, and you may use it however you like, as long as you promise to use it for good.’

The little girl agreed, and when her brother woke up, she showed him all the wonderful things she could do.”

Orpheus looked at the mural, seeing the girl wielding a golden light that made plants grow and flourish. He saw later on in the mural that the power would benefit many people, healing the sick and blessing their crops, but he waited, not wanting to skip ahead.

“The boy was happy for her, but also scolded her for trusting the nightingale so easily.

‘What if it had been a trick?’ He asked, distrustful of her new magic. ‘You need to be careful, with that power someone is sure to try and take advantage of you.’

Despite her brother’s caution, the little girl wanted to see the best in the world, using her power to help others in need. They became grateful to her, and quickly grew to love her.”

The girl looked happy. In the mural, she stood in the middle of a town square, singing and dancing with the rejoicing people, a crown of flowers on her head. The boy, who stood off to the side, did not look as joyful.

“The boy thought it was selfish of them to love her only when she gave them gifts, after all, where had they been when they’d been alone and afraid? He was afraid of them using her, and then discarding them once they had what they wanted.

As time wore on, his suspicions only grew. His sister had gained a following, and was beloved by many, but where she saw them as people to help, he saw them as greedy thieves taking more than they deserved. He became jealous of how close the girl and the nightingale had become, and began to believe the songs the bird sang into his sister’s ear were more sinister than sweet.”

The girl and the boy were depicted as growing older, the boy becoming a man, the girl becoming a woman.

“Still, he loved her, and wished to free her of the burden of the million clinging hands on her dress. Behind her back, he shot down the nightingale, injuring it fatally.”

The painting of the dying bird falling from the sky made something in his stomach sink, and he could almost hear its heart wrenching cries as it plummeted towards the earth.

“The girl was devastated, but with its last dying breath the nightingale told her not to worry.

‘Through the kindness you have spread using my power, our souls are forever bound. When I die, I will become a part of you, and will continue giving, until the two of us are no more.’

She did not lose her power, but had in fact gained something entirely new. The boy, however, was furious, having tried to seperate them only to make them one and the same. He became convinced the nightingale had changed her, and that she was no longer the sister he once knew.”

The next mural showed the grown boy tearing through the same woods from the beginning of the story, looking angry and desperate.

“He looked everywhere for a way to get his sister back, until a raven called out to him from the darkness.

‘You look like you’re in an awful hurry,’ the raven said, watching him from above.

‘These are the woods that took my sister from me. I will not leave until I have found a way to return her to how she was.’ He said.

‘I could think of a way.’ the raven said, hatching up a scheme.

It offered him power, not unlike the nightingale had all those years ago. And in his desperation, he immediately accepted it, not bothering to ask what kind of cost it might have.”

Orpheus swallowed thickly, shivering at the sinister depiction of the raven.

“He returned to his sister’s kingdom with powers of his own, and while the nightingale hoped it would bring her closer to her brother again, it had only served to make him feel much farther away.

Her brother, now the raven, grew more and more bitter, beginning to believe that his sister’s methods were flawed, and that the world was too cruel to be cured. He began amassing a following of his own, people with miserable pasts and horrible lives, promising them the power to change their fates.

His followers began spreading their fear and misery, and it wasn’t long before a war broke out between the two of them. The nightingale begged for him to stop, but he would not, believing that humanity should be eradicated so no such misery would ever plague the earth again. With his army of monsters, he crowned himself The Nightmare King.”

The warped figure of The Nightmare King was truly disturbing to look at. He no longer looked human, and at first glance, he hadn’t even known that he and the little boy from the beginning were the same person. He gripped the handle of his cane so tightly his knuckles turned white, a cold sweat gathering on the back of his neck. The mural depicted a battle between noble warriors and terrifying beasts, bloody and brutal.

“The nightingale lent her powers to some of her most trusted followers, and they fought the abominations he had created. Some of them gave into despair, going mad and joining his side, but in the end, the nightingale defeated The Nightmare King, sending his followers scattering into the shadows.”

A long silence followed, making him squirm uncomfortably.

“…What happened?” Orpheus asked, his mouth feeling dry. “After she defeated The Nightmare King, I mean.”

The man gave him a peculiar look, something between curiosity and amusement.

“Most people assume that’s the end of the story. Are you sure you’ve never heard it before?”

“Ah… I uh, it simply didn’t feel finished to me.”

“Well, she founded The Order of the Nightingale, continuing to gift her powers to the descendants of her followers, to hunt down the monsters that remained. We actually have some members of the order in town, believe it or not.”

“Wait, what?” Orpheus nearly choked. “It’s real? I thought you said it was a story.”

The man smiled, and while there was nothing explicitly sinister about it, he couldn't help but shudder. “Oh, more of a myth really. The Order of the Nightingale is technically a religious group, so there’s no way to know for sure.”

When he opened up his mouth to ask another question, he was interrupted by a loud tapping on one of the large windows that cast light into the room. The two of them immediately swivelled to look, and to Orpheus’ growing horror, again it was the ravens. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as they peeked in like nosy neighbours, the story having done nothing to quell his worries.

A few of them sat on the outside of the window sill, watching them, one of them pecking at the glass. The man swore under his breath, grumbling something about it damaging the glass, before striding over and opening the window to shoo them away.

As he did, Orpheus caught the man’s reflection in the window. Only, it didn’t match the man who stood before him at all. The man in the reflection was old and decrepit, and had to be around seventy at least. He did resemble the stranger a bit, but if his face was sunken like that of a corpse, and he’d been aged at least a few decades.

Suddenly, the reflection made eye contact with him, making him stumble back in surprise. The man turned around, closing the window and getting rid of the reflection.
Did he know what Orpheus had seen? Had he even seen anything at all?

The strange man looked back out the window for a moment, and after a moment of thinking to himself he suddenly looked back almost angrily, a cold kind of rage that made him step back further as he quickly approached, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

He caught Orpheus’ wrist, his grip tight, leaving him unable to escape.

“I’m sorry, what did you say your name was again?” He smiled kindly, which only served to unnerve him more.

“I-“ He choked on his words, suddenly very afraid. He didn’t know who this man was or what he wanted from him, but he felt like saying his name would be giving himself away somehow. He’d been using that name to introduce himself all day, if he said it, the man would likely have a way to find him.

“Orpheus!” A familiar voice called, making him wince.

Never had he felt so relieved yet so conflicted about hearing someone call his own name, ending his little crisis before he’d even made a choice. Regardless, as Frederick trotted up to them from the door, he wrenched his arm out of the stranger’s grip, hobbling over and trying his best not to look like he was having some kind of panic attack.

“There you are, I was looking for you.” He smiled, and seeing the man happy brought him a little bit of ease. He took a deep breath, and discreetly shuffled himself until Frederick was between them. “You alright?”

“Yes, fine.” Orpheus assured him, trying to calm his shaking hands, not wanting to cause a scene.

“Ah, Mr. Kreiburg. Your reputation precedes you.” The man said with a strange weight to his words, and Orpheus didn’t miss the way it made the musician’s face twitch.

“Sorry, you are…?” He asked, clearly forcing a polite smile.

“Oh, of course, how rude of me. Joseph Desaulniers, I’m the curator of this museum.”

This information seemed to surprise both of them.

“I was told the curator was much older.” Frederick said, making the man laugh jovially.

“Who told you that? This museum has been in my family’s care for many years, that’s all. People often tell me I have a striking resemblance to my grandfather in his younger years, I suppose.” He said, smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“Well- I suppose we should be going now. We’ve still got plenty to do today.” Frederick said, again linking his arm with Orpheus’, giving Joseph a nod of courtesy before leading him towards the door.

“…Feel free to come back any time.” He called, watching them leave.

Orpheus felt as though he was holding his breath until they passed through the threshold of the main entrance again, sighing in relief once they met fresh air. To him, it smelled more like the present, as opposed to a past he was starting to believe that maybe he wanted to forget.

“It wasn’t just me, he was a bit…”

“Unnerving?” Frederick finished snarkily, making him laugh.

“I was going to say unusual, but that works too.”

“It wasn’t just you, no. I can’t say I liked him very much.” Frederick grumbled, shaking his head. “Honestly, the nerve.” He muttered under his breath, catching Orpheus’ attention.

“…He said something about your reputation. What did he mean by that?”

“Nothing.” He said quickly, letting out a sharp sigh. “It’s… nothing. What were the two of you talking about anyways?”

It clearly wasn’t nothing, but Orpheus decided not to press the matter. It was clear Frederick didn’t want to talk about his past, and while he was tempted to weed it out of him, now didn’t feel like the best time.

“He was telling me the story of the mural on the ceiling.” He said, his cane clicking against the cobblestones as they walked. “The one about the nightingale.”

“The Nightingale and The Nightmare King?” He asked, seemingly content to change the subject. “That’s quite a classic. I remember when my brothers heard it they threw rocks at the poor birds whenever they saw them. The ravens, I mean. Come to think of it, they might have been crows.”

“Why? The Nightmare King was defeated, wasn’t he?”

“Oh I don’t know, you know how young boys are. They weren’t exactly thinking logically about it.” He sighed, tutting dismissively at the memory. “I always thought the story was quite sad, how it ended.”

“…It is, isn’t it?” Orpheus mumbled, applying the story to his own situation. He imagined most people did that sort of thing, connecting to the story in a way that almost made it feel real and alive, even if it wasn’t.

“On a lighter note, I once read a novel that reframed them as lovers.” He snorted, the prospect making Orpheus wrinkle his nose in disgust.

“..What?”

“Oh yes, it was terrible. An entertaining mess.” He said with a grin, giggling to himself. “They might have it at the library, if you want to give it a read.”

“I… think I’m alright.” Orpheus said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “I’m not sure romance is my genre.”

. . .

When Frederick had first mentioned a library, he hadn’t wanted to get himself too excited, so he’d imagined a quaint little building filled to the brim with books. When they arrived however, his expectations were blown out of the water.

From the outside it looked more like a church, ornate stained glass windows and finely carved arches. It had a powerful aura about it, it’s large stature intimidating him slightly. He spotted some strange symbols carved into the pillars and walls, which seemed to glow slightly as they passed by, though he could have been imagining it.

“Strange place,” He mumbled, and Frederick shot him a grin.

“Wait until you see the inside.”

As soon as they passed through the doors, he thought he might be in heaven. The inside was massive, and almost every corner of the place was lined with wonderfully carved wooden bookshelves. A double set of stairs led to a second tier floor, and it looked as though it went further beyond that as well. It was all so incredibly gorgeous to look at, he forgot to breathe for a moment.

He heard Frederick giggle, shaking him out of his stupor. “I thought you’d like it. Come on, you can explore to your heart’s content after I return these.” He said, holding up the small bag that contained his owed books.

Passing through rows and rows of towering bookcases, they came to the bottom of the twin staircases, in between them what looked to be a front desk. Behind sat a strange looking woman in a very comfortable looking chair, reading through a thick tome, not seeming to have even noticed them yet.

She had long, pink, braided hair, and horns, though he suspected they were some kind of decorative headpiece, not actually horns growing from her head. She looked mystical, but became a little less so when Frederick cleared his throat and she jumped, looking up at them with owlish eyes.

“Oh… Kreiburg, right?” She asked with a tilt of her head, putting down the tome she was reading on a small accent table. “Here to return your books?”

“Yes,” He smiled, placing the bag on the table.

She looked them over, pulling a large record book from a desk drawer and flipping it open about halfway through. She scribbled something down, before slamming it shut with a thud and looking back up at them with a smile.

“Ah, actually would you mind just putting them on that cart over there? It just makes my life a little bit easier.” She said, gesturing to a cart full of books near one of the shelves.

“I can do that for you, if you’d like.” Orpheus offered, still feeling a little bit restless. Maybe he could take a peek at some of the shelves while he was at it.

“Thank you, is there anything else I can help you with today?” He heard her ask Frederick, and he sort of awkwardly placed them on top, as the cart already seemed to be overflowing.

“Yes, actually,” Frederick said, clearing his throat. “Do you know if the librarian is in? Eli Clark, I mean.”

“Eli?” She asked, sounding surprised. “No, unfortunately not. He and Patty left earlier this morning to go look for something, I believe.”

“Oh? What for?”

“Hmm, I’d say it’s nothing important but Eli seemed worried about it, so it must have been pretty serious.”

“I see… I hope everything’s alright.”

“Oh I’m sure they’ll deal with it.” She said, laughing it off. “What did you need him for, anyways?”

As he returned, Frederick waved him over, clearly wanting him present in order to explain their situation.

“Well, we were hoping he could help us find out a little about the area around my house. The ruins and all that. My… friend here, was um, curious about it.”

Suddenly the lady’s eyes were on him, and she finally seemed to realise she didn’t know him. “Oh hello, my name is Fiona Gilman, a pleasure to meet you.” She said, sticking out a hand for him to shake.

He shook it, a little awkwardly, still not quite used to meeting new people. “I’m Orpheus- uh, just Orpheus I suppose.” He said, remembering he didn’t know his own last name.

“Orpheus?” She asked, raising an eyebrow with a grin. “What, like the author?”

Him and Frederick exchanged a shocked glance, seeming to both make to the connection to Frederick’s earlier comparison.

“Author- I- do you know who he is?” Orpheus asked, his pulse fluttering in anticipation.

“Of course I do.” Fiona frowned, looking a bit confused. “He wrote tons of horror classics, we have some copies here, in fact.”

“No- I mean do you know where he is? Like, anything about him?” He asked, trying his best to rephrase.

She gave him an odd look, as though she didn’t quite get it. “If you’re looking for an autograph, I’m afraid you’re a few centuries too late.” She joked, and Orpheus’ hopes plummeted.

“Ah. So he’s been dead a long time, then.” He said, trying his best not to sound disappointed. Of course it wouldn’t have been so easy. “Sorry, I… I just…”

“-He’s been having difficulty remembering his past.” Frederick explained for him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “The only thing he can really remember seems to be that name. Orpheus.”

Fiona looked at them with wide eyes. “Oh- I’m so sorry. I just thought maybe you were named after him or something. I know the name originally comes from a greek myth, if that’s any help.”

“A greek myth?” Frederick asked, sounding intrigued. “Well that’s something, I suppose.”

“If you’re having difficulty with memories, then you meeting Eli might actually be a really good idea.” Fiona said, tapping her chin.

“…Does he practise hypnotism?”

“No, but something similar.” She said, vaulting the desk and landing right next to them. “He should be back sometime soon, if you’d like to stay and wait for him. In the meantime I can help you find whatever it was you were looking for. Ruins, you said, right?”

“A-Ah, yes!” Frederick said before turning back to Orpheus. “I’ll take care of that. I know you were dying to look around anyways, so this actually works out in our favour. Take out as many books as you want.”

“As many as I want?” Orpheus asked, eyebrows raised.

“Well, as many as you’re willing to carry home. I still have some things to pick up on our way back, so you’ll have to carry them yourself.” He said, letting out a breath of a laugh and rolling his eyes.

“Hmm… well if I used the bag you brought, I might be able to increase my carrying capacity…” He began plotting, envisioning all the ways he could carry as many books as possible.

“-Please don’t hurt yourself.” Frederick sighed, shaking his head.

. . .

Orpheus was nose deep in a book when Frederick finally came looking for him. He’d acquired a large stack and curled up in one of the comfortable nooks the library had to offer.

“What are you reading?” He asked, curiously peeking over his shoulder.

“I tried to find all the books by that author.” He replied, not taking his eyes off the page. “The one who shares my name, I mean.”

“Any luck?”

He sighed, closing the book, but mentally noting the page number. “No. I mean they’re interesting for sure, but I can’t say I recognize it at all.”

“I can’t say I’d expect you to,” Frederick said, looking through the stack he’d accumulated on the table, picking one out and staring and the front.

“-Hey, I’ve read this one before.”

“Which one?”

He turned the cover towards him, allowing him to read the title.

“The White Steed of Death?” He read, tilting his head. “Sounds interesting.”

“It was. I don’t know how I didn’t remember the author’s name, I would have made the connection otherwise.” Frederick said, placing the book back on the stack.

“Not that it would have mattered.” Orpheus grumbled, placing his own book back on the stack as well. “Considering this ended up being a dead end and all.”

“Perhaps, but it helped you find some good books, didn’t it?” The musician offered optimistically. He got the feeling that Frederick wasn’t the most cheerful type, but with how much of a downer he was, he supposed at least one of them had to look on the bright side of things.

“I guess so.”

There was a beat of silence, before the loud clunking of the front doors echoed through the large space, followed by faint voices. The two of them looked and each other, and after grabbing his cane and a couple books, they headed back towards the front desk.

The two strangers walked in just as Fiona was checking out the books for them, and as soon as she noticed them, she immediately began waving them over. “Oh finally, you’re back! Come over here, I want you to meet someone.”

Like Fiona, the two of them had a mystical air about them, a small owl perched on the man’s shoulder. He looked friendly, but stressed, and the stout woman who stood next to him looked annoyed, glaring at them as though they were in the way.

“Ah, Mr. Kreiburg, it’s nice to see you again. If you’ll forgive me, me and Patricia are a bit busy at the moment- did you need something?” The man asked, the owl flying off his shoulder and somewhere into the library. None of the staff seemed concerned about the bird, so he imagined it was domestic.

“If you have the time, we’d be grateful for your help.” Frederick smiled.

“Well we don’t have the time.” The shorter woman snapped, trying to pull the man past them and towards the stairs. “Excuse me.”

“Hang on, Patricia.” The man frowned, which made her sigh. “As long as it doesn’t take too long, I don’t see a reason why we couldn’t help.”

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t protest.

“Sorry about her, she’s just a bit on edge.” The man smiled, before looking to Orpheus. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Eli Clark, the librarian.”

“What’s the matter?” Frederick asked curiously.

“Ah… It might sound a bit strange to you, but I believe a great evil has recently awakened. Something powerful has been released, and we need to find it before it causes any harm.”

“Oh…?”

Frederick glanced at him a bit nervously, but seemed to shake it off relatively quickly. Orpheus knew what thought crossed his mind in that moment, but he discarded it just as quickly.

“Well- I was hoping you could help my friend here. He’s suffered from memory loss recently, and Ms. Gilman said you might be able to help us.”

He looked to Orpheus, surprised. “Memory loss you say? I might be able to help with that.”

“You can?” Orpheus asked, hope fluttering in his gut again.

“Yes, and it shouldn’t take too long either.” He said, primly taking off his gloves, folding them and placing them in his pocket. “Would you mind giving me your hand?”

Uncertainly, he offered his hand, palm up as though to receive something. The librarian took a step closer, into his personal space, and he had to stop himself from backing away.

“Now, I’ll warn you, this may be a little overwhelming for you.” He said firmly, making sure that Orpheus understood. “Had I more time to spare, I would have liked to look into your situation a bit more before I did this. It would be safer if we waited, though I can’t tell you the next time I’ll be available.”

“Please-“ He blurted out, looking at the man with pleading eyes. “It’s potentially urgent.”

Eli nodded, reaching his own hand forward and placing it face down over Orpheus’. “Please close your eyes, then.”

As soon as he did, the library seemed to vanish. He could not sense the building around them, or even the people, only Eli, standing in front of him in a dark void.

“I’m going to need you to open your mind for me.” Eli’s voice echoed from what felt like the inside of his head. “To let me in.”

“O-Okay, how do I do that?” He asked, his nerves making him stammer a bit. He was tempted to open his eyes, just to check and make sure Frederick was still beside him, but he had a feeling it was a bad idea.

“Just relax.” The librarian said softly, and he forced himself to take a deep breath, relieving some of the tension in his shoulders. “I’d like you to imagine a door for me. Any door will do.”

Orpheus wasn’t sure why, but the first door that appeared in his mind was the door to the museum. The large arched double doorway had been wide open when they’d been there, but this time it was closed, which made him a bit confused, considering he’d never seen it that way before.

“A-Alright, I have… a door.” He said hesitantly, standing before it, somehow feeling intimidated by the way it towered over him. It didn’t move, but he simply got a feeling that whatever was behind those doors was something he didn’t want to see.

“I want you to open it for me, can you do that?”

He stared at it for a long while, and found himself hoping that it was locked, which was ridiculous. This door was completely imaginary, and there wasn’t actually anything behind it. Still, it’s oppressive force kept him frozen in place.

“Orpheus?”

“Y-Yeah, I’ve got it.” He said, swallowing thickly.

He reached for the door knob, as cold as ice, and felt his hand trembling. Taking another deep breath, he counted down from three, promising himself that he’d open the door.

Three, two, one.

He ripped it open, his eyes squeezed shut, and for a moment nothing happened. Everything was still, and when he looked through the open door all he could see was darkness. And then, it all exploded outwards, consuming him like a flood.

He didn’t even get a chance to take a breath before he was swept away by an inky black sea, waves of screams and terror crashing down on him over and over again. He clawed for the surface, but the memories felt like weeping people dragging him back downwards, clawing at his clothes and digging into his skin. In the eyes of those people he saw too many memories to process, and he felt tears fill his eyes as they cried out to him for help.

The dark waves turned into ravens, and he fell to the ground, covering his head to protect himself from their sharp beaks and talons. They swarmed him like a morsel of food, but after a while they began to thin. He looked up to see why, and saw a man approaching him.

No, not a man. A monster.

Very suddenly he was torn out of the experience, gasping breathlessly as he stumbled backwards into someone. His heart was pounding in his ears, and he heard multiple people cry out in alarm as he tried to regain his balance.

He opened his eyes to see that Eli had fallen backwards, barely caught by Patricia and Fiona, his entire body having gone limp. He’d clearly lost consciousness, and the dread it made him feel was nearly enough to make him vomit.

Patricia’s head snapped up with furious eyes, making him flinch further.

“What did you do!?” She shouted, her lip curled in rage.

“A- I-“ Orpheus tried to speak, his face pale as a sheet. He found he was completely and utterly frozen, unable to get a single word out.

“He didn’t do anything!” He heard Frederick shout back in his defense, and the man’s grip on his arm feeling like the only thing left tethering him to the library’s floor. He grasped him like a life raft, unsure of what to do.

She got to her feet and began approaching them with violent intent, but thankfully Fiona grabbed her by the hand, giving her a worried look. “Pat, please. Not right now.” She glanced back at Eli, who she’d gently set down on the floor. “I need your help.”

She turned to glare back at them for a moment longer, before moving to help Fiona move the librarian.

“This isn’t over.” She hissed as they left, and Frederick took the opportunity to drag him out of the library before she could return.

They ran for a while, and Orpheus simply numbly followed, still overwhelmed and dazed. They slowed to a walk eventually, the fresh air of the outdoors feeling much easier to breathe than that of the library.

He panted, not even realizing he’d been out of breath, clutching at a stitch in his side. Once he was confident he wasn’t going to throw up, he looked up at Frederick, who was similarly out of breath, his hands on his knees. Upon making eye contact with Orpheus, he stood up straight, moving immediately to help him.

“Good god, I’m so sorry-“ He gasped, placing a hand on Orpheus’ back. “I had no clue that would happen, I don’t even know what happened- are you alright?”

“Fine-“ He managed to wheeze out, trying to push the feelings away. “I- I’m fine.”

Frederick frowned. “You’re clearly not.”

Orpheus gripped his temple, that splitting headache of his seeming to have returned with no intention of leaving. The adrenaline was fading, leaving him more exhausted than anything else.

“I-“ He sighed, looking up at him with tired eyes. “Can… can we just go home?”

Home. He hadn’t meant to say that, but he couldn’t think of a more appropriate word in his state. When had he started seeing that cozy little cottage in the woods as his home? He wasn’t sure, but he knew that it felt safe, and he’d rather be there now.

“Of course,” Frederick said, not commenting on his choice of words, possibly not even noticing. “We’ll go straight back, I can pick up the stuff I was going to get later.”

“…A-Are you sure?” He asked, not wanting to be a bother, but Frederick had clearly already made up his mind.

“Yes. Don’t worry, it’s nothing I can’t handle on my own.”

The walk back to the cottage was a bit of the blur, him having to rely on Frederick to stay upright the whole way. The only part of it he really processed was when he flopped down on the couch, sighing in relief at the plush surface.

“Oh you don’t have to-“ Frederick sighed, cutting himself off. “You can rest in my bed, if you’d like.”

He could only grunt in response, flipping over onto his back. “I’m… I’ll be alright.” He grumbled, staring up at the ceiling, trying not to picture the awful things he’d seen in the library. “Just… need some sleep.”

“Will you be alright on your own for a little while?” Frederick asked, looking out the window and seeing that evening was steadily approaching. “I won’t be gone long.”

“I’ll take the time to rest while you’re gone.” He rasped, closing his eyes.

Frederick seemed to hesitate for a moment, but there was little to no food left in the house. The shops were still probably open, but they’d be closing soon.

“I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here.”

He heard the door close behind him, and it wasn’t long after that when his consciousness started to dim. He just needed to rest his eyes.

. . .

When he woke up to the sound of crinkling paper bags, it was already dark out, a few of the lights turned on, but mostly kept low to allow him to sleep. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and saw Frederick putting food in the pantry.

“Do you need any help?” He asked, sitting up.

“Oh Orpheus, you’re awake.” He said, looking quite tired himself. “It’s alright, I’ve got it. You can go back to sleep.”

Orpheus watched him a little while longer, feeling less like sleep every moment. The darkness outside the window reminded him far too much of the raging black sea, and unnerved him too much to lay back down and close his eyes again.

“I actually… don’t feel like sleeping.” He said quietly, and Frederick looked at him.

He stopped what he was doing and came to sit next to Orpheus on the couch, putting a hand on his leg.

“Is this about what happened earlier…?” He asked, and Orpheus couldn’t help from twisting his mouth in discomfort. “What exactly happened? Did you remember something… bad?”

He stared down into his lap, wondering if he looked in the mirror, would his reflection still be how it was this morning? He wasn’t sure he wanted to check.

“I don’t think I w- I don’t think I’m a very good person, Frederick.” He said quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. “I think I may have hurt a lot of people.”

There was a long silence as Orpheus waited for a violent reaction, betrayal or hurt, but was met only with the quiet of the cottage.

“I don’t think you’re bad person.” He said softly. “Even if you were, you don’t have to be anymore. I think people should be given a chance to change.”

“And what if I can’t?” Orpheus laughed humourlessly. “What if- what if that’s all I am?”

He paused, thinking back to the moment of hesitance Frederick had in the library. Even if he wanted to believe in Orpheus, there was still a part of him that had asked that question.

“What if I’m the evil he was talking about?”

“Orpheus, I don’t think he meant that literally-“

“-And what if he did?” His voice audibly cracking. “He’s part of The Order of the Nightingale, isn’t he?”

Frederick blinked in surprise.

“He… does deal with things that are beyond my understanding, I’ll admit that, but- I don’t see what The Order has to do with all of this.”

“The well. You know what I’m talking about. I know you thought about it.”

“I- about what?” The musician frowned, clearly still trying to avoid the unmentioned subject they were dancing around.

“You said it yourself,” Orpheus sighed, pulling up his pant leg to pointedly show him the shackles that still remained. “You found me chained to the bottom of a well, and now some great evil has been unleashed? I hardly doubt it’s a coincidence.”

“Well we don’t know if it’s you!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in distress. “Alright, fine, I may have released something from that well, but it’s possible it might have been something else.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know!” He shouted, silence ringing loudly after he did so.

Orpheus suddenly had the thought that perhaps he might have been insane. That all of this was some kind of twisted delusion born from him reading one too many books. After all, how self centred was he to think that this all revolved around him? But what if it did? How would he have any way of knowing?

“That story…” He mumbled, his muddled brain slowly piecing things together. “The Nightingale and The Nightmare King. There’s multiple tellings, is that correct?”

“I… yes?” Frederick confirmed for him tiredly, sitting back down on the couch from where he’d stood up while yelling. “…Why?”

“Is there a version where he doesn’t die?” Orpheus asked, the events of the story playing in his mind on loop. Was he just projecting it onto his past, or were they actually memories? “The Nightmare King, I mean. Is there a version where he’s sealed away instead?”

Frederick finally seemed to get what he was hinting at, and his expression softened in sympathy. “Orpheus, you’re… you’re not The Nightmare King. That’s impossible.”

“And if it weren’t?” he asked, his throat dry and scratchy.

“That would make you…”

It would make him hundreds of years old. if that were the case, then the things he thought might be memories would have happened a very long time ago. If his sister was The Nightingale, was she even still alive? If she was, he highly doubt she would ever forgive him. He wanted to believe he was being completely delusional, but it all seemed to fit too well. If the ravens hadn’t been a subtle hint, he didn’t know what was.

“We never did know how long I was down there for.” He chuckled hopelessly. “…I can leave, if you want.”

“What?” Frederick said, sounding genuinely a bit shocked. “Leave, why?”

“I- you’ve been very kind to me, Frederick. More than I probably deserve. I don’t want to cause any trouble for you, if possible.”

“Enough of that. Where would you even go?” The musician huffed, crossing his arms.

“I… I don’t know, I suppose I could probably figure something out.”

“…And do you want to?” Frederick asked in a small voice.

“What?”

“…Do you want to leave?”

The question hit him a bit like a sack of bricks, as he immediately realized what the answer was.

“No,” He breathed out, smiling sadly. “Of course I don’t. I like it here, that’s why I’m afraid to stay.”

“Is it so hard to believe that you deserve to be happy?”

“If my theory is right, then yes. It is.”

“Please stay-“ Frederick blurted out suddenly, surprising him. “I mean I won’t make you but- at least for tonight. Just stay. You need the rest.”

He was incredibly tired. “I… suppose we could talk more about it in the morning.” He said through a yawn.

Frederick seemed to relax a little, smiling tiredly.

“Ah, before you go to sleep, there’s something I wanted to give you.” He said standing up, reaching into one of the paper bags on the counter.

“Oh- I’m not very hungry-“

“It’s not food, silly.” Frederick laughed, before handing him what looked to be a book.

It was bound in nice leather, though nothing was on the cover. When he opened it, he found that all the pages were blank.

“It’s a journal.” He explained as Orpheus looked up at him quizzically. “You mentioned being afraid of forgetting things, so I thought you might want to write them down, just in case. Consider it a gift.”

Something strange twisted in Orpheus’ stomach. It was such a simple gesture, and yet it felt almost as though he was going to cry. “I… thank you. This- thank you.”

“It’s just a journal,” He smiled, and Orpheus didn’t care if he was teasing. To him it was much more than that, but he felt too embarrassed to say such a thing out loud.

“…If you don’t mind, could you perhaps do me one more favour tonight?” He asked after regaining his composure. He laid back on the couch, hugging the journal to his chest.

“Sure, what is it?”

“I want to hear you play again. Even if it’s from the other room. It might help me fall asleep.”

“Of course.” He smiled softly, in a way that made Orpheus wish that was only for him. If he woke up tomorrow and it was nothing but suffering from then on, he thought maybe it was alright to indulge himself a little.

He could be happy, looking at Frederick. Just for a little while.

Chapter 5: V

Notes:

YIPEEEE NEW CHAPTER!! This has very suddenly become my longest running fic! Holy shit! Thank you to everyone in the comments for your lovely support, it truly inspires me to keep working on it. I’m dogwater at writing action but here you go <3

TW: Breaking and entering, fear (?)
(I’m really bad at identifying what I should put as trigger warnings, I’m very sorry. If you having anything you’d like me to add PLEASE let me know.)

As long as Frederick played, it did nothing to soothe his growing nerves. It was a few minutes past midnight when he realized this, closing the piano’s fall board with a sigh. He quietly entered the other room, looking over Orpheus who’s brow was still furrowed even in his sleep, the journal he’d given him still clutched tightly to his chest.

Frederick was worried about him. He was worried that his ramblings about The Nightmare King might be true, but he was also afraid if they weren’t. He didn’t want to mark off the man as insane just yet, but it was clear he wasn’t in the greatest mental state after today. Perhaps they should have waited longer before going out. Either way, things weren’t looking good for him.

He didn’t know what exactly had happened between him and Eli in the library, but it made him nervous for the future. If he’d seen something frightening in Orpheus’ memories, would they come after him? He didn’t know the first thing about what kind of spells or magic they could do, and therefore had no idea how to protect him from it.

And he wanted to. Protect him, that is.

He knew the compulsion was a bit strange, but Orpheus didn’t seem like a bad person to him. Frederick could tell he was only scared and confused, but besides that he felt as though he was genuinely good. Even if all this nonsense about myths and ancient evils was imaginary, the man clearly had a troubled past, but he had no reason to believe that it defined him.

Stripped of all his memories, he was a kind person, albeit a bit strange. Didn’t that make it his true self? Or was he just projecting all of this onto him in an attempt to make himself feel better?

He sighed, sitting down in his armchair, and listening to the crackle of the fire in the hearth.

All he knew is he wanted to help. He’d kept introducing Orpheus to people as his friend, and perhaps a part of him really wanted that to be true. Frederick didn’t really have friends, often preferring to spend time by himself. He used to socialize in high society with his family, but none of the bonds had ran very deep. He simply assumed no one wanted to be seen with him anymore after his humiliating exile. It wasn’t as though anyone had reached out to him, so he was probably right.

The thought made a lump form in his throat, his eyes burning slightly.

Everything in his life had been given to him on a silver platter, because of his last name. They’d had high hopes for him, but when he hadn’t lived up to them they tossed him aside like an old toy.

Perhaps that’s why he felt so attached to Orpheus. He didn’t know who Frederick was, and because of that, none of their interactions were stained with pity or a feeling of superiority like they were with others. It’s not as though everyone alive knew about him, but it had been in the news longer than he’d liked.

‘Young prodigy ends up a failure! Disowned by his family and becomes the laughing stock of the music world!’

It made him miserable, remembering it. When he was with Orpheus though, those memories seemed to become less important. He wondered what the man would think of him if he knew the truth. It didn’t really matter, he knew that, there were far more important things to be worrying about right now, problems much bigger than his own.

A little voice in his head said to him that all this technically wasn’t his problem. He could let Orpheus leave, or hand him in to The Order, and that would be the end of it. His life would continue unchanged, but strangely, the thought made him feel sick. He couldn’t go back to how things were before, and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to.

He’d simply been killing time, wandering aimlessly. There didn’t seem to be a point to returning to it, not anymore. Pulling Orpheus out of that well had intertwined their fates, and if he could use his good for nothing life to do something to help him, then by god he was going to do it.

He was scared of being alone. He hadn’t entirely realized it until now, having been alone for so long before that he’d forgotten it. Then Orpheus had come into his life, and brought colour to his monochromatic world.

His head didn’t hurt as much whenever he was around, his invisible audience of judgemental critics taking the backseat in the orchestra of his mind.

He looked at the mostly healed wounds on his palms, and ultimately came to a decision he’d never been more sure of in his life. He was going to help Orpheus, no matter where it took him and why.

Remembering the old suitcase under the bed, he got up and went to start packing. He knew there was a chance he was being paranoid, and that it wouldn’t even be necessary, but he didn’t feel like taking that chance. All he knew is he didn’t want to sleep, knowing it would risk the chance of Orpheus leaving before he woke.

A few changes of clothes, some essentials, and the extra cash he kept stored at the bottom of a drawer. He threw in a couple other things he might need, but it’s not as though he knew how long this trip of his was going to be.

The suitcase was still open on the bed, the bedside lamp casting a low light over the room, when he heard a loud knock at the door. He froze, letting the silence ring after, hoping he’d imagined it.

It came again.

As quickly and quietly as he could, he made his way back to the main room, and saw that Orpheus had already woken, still as a statue before turning to look at Frederick with panicked eyes.

“Mr. Kreiburg? Would you mind if we spoke for a minute?”

It was Eli’s voice, but he could hear murmuring from beyond the door that said he wasn’t alone.

“I started packing a bag in the other room,” He whispered directly into Orpheus’ ear, clutching his shoulders. “Take it and leave through the back door and wait for me at the end of the path to the road. Hide in the bushes if you need to.”

There wasn’t time to say more as the knocking came again, and as Orpheus stumbled away he only hoped that he’d actually wait for him.

He opened the door enough to peek his head out, but not much more, not wanting to risk him being seen. He met them with a flustered smile, leaning against the doorway in a way that he hoped looked casual.

“Mr. Clark!” He laughed nervously, glancing at Patricia, who stood simmering by his side. “I’m glad you seem to be feeling better- you gave us quite the scare there, fainting like that.”

The librarian looked at him, clearly a bit skeptical of his overwhelming friendliness. “…Yes. I appreciate your concern, I’m feeling much better now. May we come in for a moment?”

Patricia immediately stepped forwards to push open the door, but he quickly slammed his strength against it, firmly keeping it where it was. He heard rustling behind him, and he loudly cleared his throat, his heart pounding in his chest.

“A-actually, it’s- it’s quite late. I was just about to go to sleep, actually!” He smiled forcefully with gritted teeth. “Whatever it is you need from me, I’m sure it can wait until morning.”

Patricia opened her mouth to snap at him, but Eli put up a hand, signalling for her to back down. She took a few steps back with a huff, and Frederick sighed in relief as their struggle with the door came to an end.

“We just want to ask you a few questions, if that’s alright.” He said calmly. “It won’t take more than a few minutes of your time.”

“Right,” He chuckled, anxiously tucking some loose hair behind his ear. “What is it you need to know?”

Eli glanced back at Fiona, who gave him a little nod, prompting him to turn back to Frederick, taking a deep breath.

“Fiona said you were looking into the history of this area’s ruins. Specifically something about a well.” He said, and the composer immediately felt his heart rate spike.

“Did I now?” He laughed nervously, the palms of his hands and the back of his neck getting sweaty. “Must’ve- I mean, my friend- was curious about it, but I-“ He nearly hiccuped on his words when accidentally bringing up Orpheus, realizing he’d brought attention to it.

“Yes, your friend, about him-“ Eli said, still sounding calm, but a bit of impatience bleeding into his tone. “Is he here? Is it alright if we speak to him for a moment?”

“What?” He asked, pausing for a moment to look confused. “O-Oh, he doesn’t live here. He’s been staying at the Inn, from what he’s told me.”

He surprised himself with how genuine he sounded, a small swell of pride blooming in his chest. He swallowed it down, however, not wanting to give himself away just yet.

It did seem to cause the librarian’s certainty to waver a bit, and Frederick hoped it might make him believe that he was completely oblivious to the situation. Most people saw him as a bit of an airhead anyways, so it wouldn’t have been hard to convince him.

“He’s lying.” Patricia said flatly, making him clench his teeth hard enough to give himself a migraine. “Don’t try and play dumb, Kreiburg.”

She tossed something at him, and he just barely managed to catch it, yelping at it’s cold dampness. Turning it over, he realized in horror that it was his wallet, which should have been at the bottom of…

“We found your bolt cutters too.” She said pointedly, and he swore he could have felt his blood turn to ice.

They knew. They already knew what he’d done. His name was engraved on the inside of the leather, and if they’d somehow reached the bottom of the well they would have found the broken chains as well. Every joint in his body seized up, and he squeezed the wallet tightly in his hand.

There was a loud crash somewhere in the front yard, startling all four of them, the sudden fright nearly causing Frederick heart to stop altogether. They all turned to look, and as they did, he nearly became sick at the sight.

Ravens. They were gathered on every branch of every tree, perched on every visible surface. It was like a blanket of feathers beaks and eyes had fallen over his awful little garden, all watching them, completely and eerily silent, besides the occasional ruffle of feathers. He’d never seen so many gathered in one place before, and the sight was clearly unnatural.

Frederick took his chance as their backs were turned to him, slamming the door and locking it.

“Hey!” He heard Patricia shout, the doorknob beginning to shake violently.

Frantically he grabbed a chair from the kitchen and shoved it underneath, stumbling out of the room, nearly tripping over his own furniture.

Upon entering his room, he saw the suitcase and Orpheus were gone, and his heart ached, hoping the man was waiting for him. Quickly, he grabbed his coat and shoved some random things in it’s pockets, sliding it on as he tumbled back into the main room.

As he did, he was greeting with the sight of what looked to be some kind of portal appearing on his door, causing him to stand completely baffled for a few moments. He yelped as Fiona’s head poked through, as though the door didn’t exist at all, and as soon as they made eye contact, Frederick bolted for the back door.

“Wait!-“ He heard her call from behind him, but thankfully he also heard her trip and fall on her way in. He felt a bit bad about not turning around to check on her, but he really didn’t have the time.

He burst out the back door, the cool night air hitting his face like a wall, which he continued through, tearing into the woods behind his house. The adrenaline coursing through his veins made him feel a bit like he was flying, and while it could have been the sound of his heartbeat drowning everything else out, the woods were unusually silent. The usual choir of bugs and crickets seemed to hold their breath like an enraptured audience, like they knew something dreadful was about to happen.

He burst out of the trees and onto the dirt road which for once he was glad was always completely barren. It stretched out empty in both directions, the trees hanging over it like a canopy, letting a bit of moonlight through where the branches didn’t quite reach.

Frederick couldn’t hear anything over his own heavy breaths and pounding of his own heart, as he frantically scanned the nearby area for any signs of life. He didn’t truly realize just how quiet everything around him was until he heard a faint rustling in the bushes, which he immediately trudged towards through the thick bramble.

“Orpheus!” He whispered harshly, following the sound and spotting a figure crouched in the shadows. “Orpheus, it’s me!”

The figure slowly began turning, and only when it rose far above Orpheus’ height did he realize something was amiss. The person before him kept on unravelling until they easily stood taller than eight feet, a scraggly black cat perched on the stranger’s hunched shoulders.

He stumbled back a bit as they loomed over him, and his heart began sinking in fear. He wasn’t quite sure how to describe the thing before him, only that he’d never seen anything so frightening. Attached to a neck much too long to be natural was the head of what looked to be a nun, though her face was covered by a chilling porcelain mask, in which he could see glowing yellow eyes behind.

Gripped in her ghastly pale hand appeared to be a large wooden stake, and as soon as she seemed to register his presence, she raised it to strike, gaze cold and unfeeling.

Frederick couldn’t recall a time when he’d ever been so gripped with terror. Every inch of his body was paralyzed in fear, and while he very badly wanted to scream, he found that he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything.

Just as the stake came down, someone burst out of the darkness, yanking him out of the way by his wrist, dragging him behind them into the woods. He let out a startled yelp and nearly toppled over, but managed to catch himself and start running as well, glancing back to see if it was giving chase, but his eyes were only met with darkness.

He looked ahead of him instead and saw the man dragging him along, and noticed he was carrying something else in his other hand. A suitcase.

“Orpheus!-“ He gasped out in relief as sparse bits of moonlight outlined the shape of his face as they ran.

He nearly crashed right into him as they came to an abrupt stop, and when he opened his mouth to ask why, Orpheus yanked him downwards into the bushes.

“What- Mmph!” He held a hand over Frederick’s mouth and remained very still, and that was when the musician realized he could he a strange metallic clanking approaching them.

Once he realized that they were hiding, Orpheus let go of him, and he tried his best to peek at whatever was coming without rustling the leaves around them.

His breath hitched as something blade like stabbed into the ground before him, followed by the scuttling of mechanical hands and more blades, crawling along the forest floor like some kind of giant metal spider. He didn’t get a good look at it, but he could hear a lady giggling from within as she passed by them, seemingly completely unaware of their presence.

He only let himself breathe once the clanking had faded completely, feeling a bit nauseous as he stumbled to his feet.

“What on earth was that- what are those things?” He asked in a shrill whisper as he turned to Orpheus. He didn’t know why he was looking to the amnesiac for answers, seeing as the man looked just as afraid- if not more so than he was.

“I don’t know!” He hissed, practically trembling from the stress. “All I know is the woods are crawling with them- what are we supposed to do!?”

“Shit-“ Frederick cursed, clutching his head and trying to shake any ideas from it. “Shit- shit shit shit-“

They couldn’t go back to the house, and yet somehow that now felt like the safest option. Even if they did, the cottage wasn’t much of a fortress, and whatever horrors that were now lurking the shadows would probably have a much easier time breaking in than the library’s staff.

They weren’t exactly caught in a corner, but that’s how it felt. It was more like an empty field with no cover, and they were stuck right in the middle like sitting ducks. Noise began echoing around his skull, making him whimper in pain, his thoughts becoming muddled and useless.

Suddenly, with alarming clarity, he heard the distant echo of a train’s horn, and his head shot up, the solution practically falling into his lap.

This time it was his turn to grab Orpheus and pull him through the darkened woods, running at full speed towards the distant lights of the town’s street lamps. The gentle rumble of the train on it’s tracks was growing louder, and he knew that they only had one chance to pull this off right.

Thankfully they managed to avoid any more horrific encounters before arriving in the empty streets, which were strangely bathed in fog, despite there having been none in the forest at all. It made reading the street signs difficult, but he hoped that if they just ran they might find it.

There was no one about, which made sense considering it was the dead of night, but it didn’t stop him from feeling uneasy as they turned down various streets. It felt like they were being watched.

They were both alerted to the location of their destination by the loud screeching of the train’s brakes as it pulled into the station, and Frederick cursed under his breath, realizing that they’d gone the wrong way.

“We’re not going to make it in time-“ Orpheus rasped, fear in his eyes.

“Like hell we aren’t!” Frederick shouted, cutting directly through someone’s front garden, trampling tulips with his shoes.

There was a tall stone ledge between them and the station, and they paused a moment, realizing it was too long to go around. Immediately, Frederick began climbing, and as soon as he hoisted himself up, Orpheus was holding out the suitcase for him to grab.

He grabbed it and heaved it up, finding it was heavier than he expected. He dropped it on the ground and instantly turned to helped Orpheus up next, only for his face to pale in fear as he saw someone approaching him from behind.

Long, bladed claws scraped deliberately against the stone wall, making an awful screeching sound as the figure stepped out of the fog. He was tall, taller than any man should be, his strangely warped body disguised in the tattered facade of an english gentleman.

“Well, look what we have here.” He hummed, face hidden by a cheap and simple mask. “I’ll admit, you aren’t usually the type I’d go after, but god it’s just been such a long time.”

With a flick of his wrist the blades attached to his hand came off the wall with a sharp sound, flexing menacingly as he approached with threatening intent.

“Orpheus!” Frederick cried, extending his hand as far as he could, but it was clear that he didn’t have enough time to escape.

Orpheus backed up until he hit the wall, just out of Frederick’s reach, and the musician nearly screamed in frustration.

By some miracle, however, the knife handed stranger was suddenly swarmed by a blur of talons and feathers, the bird letting out a piercing cry and staggering him for a moment. Frederick’s eyes widened in surprise, and noticed it wasn’t a raven, but an owl. Eli’s owl.

He didn’t have enough time to question it. By the time the stranger in the mask had recovered, Orpheus had already jumped up to grab Frederick’s hand, and had been pulled up to the top.

There was a shrill whistle from the train station, probably a last call, and the two of the scrambled to get up, Frederick grabbing the suitcase and leading the way.

They whizzed by the sleepy looking man in the ticket booth before he even seemed to process they were there, and as soon as they got onto the platform, the train was already leaving the station. Frederick wasn’t typically one for impulsive decisions, but with all the frightening things he’d seen tonight, he was feeling a little more inclined.

“Frederick!”

His heart leapt as he heard Eli call his name from the other side of the platform, seeing the librarian who looked sufficiently out of breath.

“Wait, please!”

Orpheus looked to him, with that helpless expression of his, distraught and afraid. He had no way of knowing what the man was thinking, but seeing the fear in his eyes truly cemented his decision. He was really going to do this, and all for a man he’d met less than a month ago. How strange his life had truly become.

With that thought, grabbing Orpheus by the hand as he took a running leap off the platform and onto the tracks, his shins aching painfully as they suffered the drop. Orpheus quite nearly fell forwards, but Frederick simply used the momentum to start running forwards, trying to catch up to the moving train.

It didn’t appear to be going too quick yet, but the effort still made his lungs burn and all his muscles ache. He threw the suitcase aboard before them and then grasped desperately for the rail attached to the back of the train. By the time he managed to climb up, the train was picking up speed.

As he reached out his hand for Orpheus to grab, he saw Eli and the rest of the library staff chasing behind him. His hands were sweaty and clammy, and Orpheus’ fingers always seemed to just slip out of his grasp as he struggled to keep up, and Frederick was afraid he wasn’t going to make it.

Just in time, Orpheus took a running leap forwards, allowing Frederick to get a good grasp on his hand, using all his remaining strength to heave him up onto the train next to him.

Panting, he looked back at the library staff growing smaller and smaller on the tracks as they got further and further away, and he heaved out a massive sigh of relief, turning to rest his forehead on Orpheus’ shoulder.

Orpheus seemed to jump a little at the sudden contact, but after a few moments, awkwardly reaching his hand around Frederick in a sort of half hug as their hair whipped in the wind. He let himself bury his nose into Orpheus’ shoulder for a moment, simply breathing in and out, the smell of his sweat being oddly comforting.

“What now?” Orpheus asked hoarsely, giving his shoulder a light squeeze.

In his exhaustion, he let out the ghost of a laugh. “I’m not sure. I hadn’t actually planned that far ahead.” He wheezed, gazing out at the moving countryside, which still looked as beautiful as ever.

It was true, he hadn’t exactly thought this out very well, but he could worry about that later. For now they were safe, and that’s all that really mattered.

. . .

There weren’t many people aboard the late night train, scarcely more than two people in all the cars they passed through. They found a seat across from one another, and Frederick kept an eye out for the ticket collector, knowing they’d probably be less than pleased they’d boarded without paying. He’d pay for the two of them if someone called them out for it, but otherwise he’d just keep quiet and hope no one would notice.

He took a deep breath, his heart still recovering from all the sudden excitement. He looked to Orpheus, who sat across the table from him, gazing out at the passing countryside with a troubled look on his face.

“Are you alright?” He asked, and Orpheus blinked a few times as he processed the question, seeming to be a bit out of it. Frederick could hardly blame him.

“I’m…” He trailed off, staring and his hands that rested clasped on the table in front of him. “I’m… fine.”

Frederick raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Are you sure? Because I know you’ll often say that without meaning it.”

Orpheus sighed, falling silent. The sounds of the train were the only thing that remained, consistent and mechanical.

“Why are you helping me, Frederick?” He asked, surprising the man in question.

“I-“ He wanted to tell Orpheus everything that he’d thought about earlier, but couldn’t quite find the words to do so.

“…I don’t know. Not entirely.” He replied honestly. “It- It might sound a bit strange to you, but I- I feel like I’ve known you, longer than I actually have. I’m-“ he sighed. “I don’t have many friends, Orpheus. I never have. -and I- I- know it might be presumptuous of me to call you that, but I-“

“You consider me your friend?” Orpheus asked softly, his expression unreadable.

Frederick bit his lip nearly hard enough to make it bleed.

“…I do.”

The man’s expression melted into a smile, and suddenly all this chaos suddenly felt completely worth it. He looked relieved, happy even. “Thank you, really- for all of this. I’m sorry you got caught up in this whole mess because of me.”

“No need,” Frederick smiled tiredly in return. “It would’ve happened regardless.”

“Not if you hadn’t saved me. If we’d never met, you’d still be safe.”

“Perhaps. But there’s no use worrying about that now. Even if I were to return home, I don’t think it’s very safe there anymore.” He said, looking out on the passing landscape. “Besides, my life was really quite boring before we met. I wouldn’t have accomplished anything of note in that dismal little house.”

“Dismal?” Orpheus chuckled. “A bit harsh, I thought it was quite nice.”

“Ah- it wasn’t the house that was the problem-“ He began to laugh, but the next words died sourly on his tongue. ‘The problem was me.’ He thought to himself, his smile fading.

“Frederick?”

He looked up again, not realizing how long he’d been silent for. “It’s fine. A little bit of adventure might do me some good.”

“You still haven’t told me much about yourself,” Orpheus pointed out, looking a bit worried about him. “…Is there a reason for that?”

Frederick paused, uncomfortable, wringing his hands.

“No,” He lied with a laugh. “Of course not, there just isn’t much to tell. I’m not very interesting, if you’ll believe it.”

“I’m not sure I do.”

There was a long silence between them, as thick as old pea soup.

“Nothing gets past you, does it?” Frederick sighed, shaking his head. “Well, it was worth a shot.”

“I’m sorry- I don’t mean to pry. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

“-No, it’s…” He chewed his lip, looking away. “It’s complicated.”

It wasn’t really, but that seemed as good an excuse as any. Thankfully, Orpheus respected his privacy and changed the subject, and they spoke until Frederick nearly forgot about it.

He was near falling asleep in his seat when the thought returned to him. He knew he’d have to tell Orpheus eventually, but he’d save that for another time. Right now they needed to focus on getting somewhere safe, far, far, away. Maybe then he’d be brave enough to tell him.

Chapter 6: VI

Summary:

This chapter was originally gonna be a lot longer, but I’ve divided up the story into more chunks for my own sanity!

We’re a bit at a midway point (maybe a little bit past?) and writing middles always drags for me, but I’m powering through it!! I do have an ending planned, but dw it’s still a while till we get there. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

TW: Slight derealization/doubting one’s sanity, mentions of death, mentions of family issues, self-deprecating thoughts

Orpheus hadn’t been able to stop thinking. It had been nearly three days now since they’d boarded that first train, spending most of their time travelling ever since. Frederick didn’t seem to have a plan as to where they were going, which he supposed might be better, his neurotic impulses making them harder to track. It didn’t appear as though anyone was chasing them, but neither of them felt safe stopping, so they didn’t.

The time they spent in the small towns they passed through was actually quite nice, Frederick taking the opportunity to make something of an impromptu sightseeing trip. He knew that it was probably just an attempt to cheer him up, which in of itself brought him a little bit of joy. Still, he worried about his past, and Frederick had seemed to notice.

He wanted to find answers, to see if his sister was still alive, but finding information was proving to be difficult. Not because it was particularly difficult to come across, but that The Order of the Nightingale seemed to be the most accountable source. It could have been paranoid, but he didn’t want to risk being recognized on the off chance Eli had sent word to the rest of The Order that he was on the loose.

He wasn’t even sure the information they had was reliable. It had clearly been hundreds of years, and there was no way of knowing if anything had been lost during that time. The best way they could learn about his past was from his own memories, ironically.

Frederick suggested they visit the psychologist Dr. Dyer had mentioned, hoping she might be able to help him recover some of his lost memories. The thought of entering his own mind again made Orpheus shiver, he was afraid of what he’d find there- especially now that he had a better idea of who he had been. He didn’t want to, really, but they couldn’t just keep running around forever. It was some semblance of a destination, something they were clearly both in need of, so he agreed.

“Are you sure about this?” Frederick asked, giving his hand a light squeeze as they stood outside the apartment building that contained the address Dr. Dyer had listed.

“No,” He mumbled, grinding his teeth nervously. “But I’d rather not be standing out here on the street where people can see us.”

No one really looked at them, and if they did their gazes seemed to be drawn more towards Frederick than him, which he supposed made sense considering he had a particularly attractive face. Still, the glances seemed to make him just as nervous as Orpheus, so he simply gave a nod, leading him towards the entrance.

When walking together, Frederick held out an arm for him to grab onto. It was the first time he’d really noticed him doing it, and he realized it was probably because he thought Orpheus was still having a difficult time walking. He wasn’t, which was also a bit of a new realization. He thought his legs would be in agony after all the running and walking they’d been doing the past few days, but strangely, he felt completely fine. He decided he wasn’t going to mention it, the proximity comforting him as they entered the decrepit old building.

Decrepit may have been a bit strong of a word, but it was far from welcoming. While it might have been a top of the line estate at some point in its past, a great deal of things had fallen into disrepair, making it feel like an old ghost of what it perhaps once was. The old lady smoking at the front desk buzzed them in without much more than a glance, and they decided to pass on the rickety old elevator in favour of a few flights of stairs.

They arrived at the address, 409, the nine a bit crooked in its place, hoping it actually housed who they were looking for.

Frederick was the one to bite the bullet and knock, and Orpheus was quite grateful for it, as he wasn’t sure he had the nerve.

They were standing in that dusty old hallway for what felt like at least a full minute before Frederick knocked again. This time, light creaking could be heard, as well as the loud ‘chunk’ of a heavy metal lock being turned.

It opened a crack, and over Frederick’s shoulder he caught a glimpse of a woman’s face, her expression stern and guarded.

“…Are you Dr. Mesmer?” Frederick asked in response to her silent glare, which didn’t seem to please her in the slightest.

“Who are you?” She asked, her gaze flitting nervously to Orpheus for a brief moment. “What do you want?”

“I-“ Frederick turned to look at him with a helpless look, and he stepped forwards with a sigh.

“We need your help.” He said softly, as though confronting a frightened animal. “Please,” He added on desperately, hoping she wouldn’t simply slam the door in his face.

The two of them must have looked exhausted, because she didn’t mention it- at least not right away. She clearly wanted to tell them to get lost, but she hesitated, pursing her lips as she thought to herself.

“With what?” She asked.

“We heard about you from a friend.” He replied vaguely, hoping he wouldn’t have to elaborate.

She looked between him and Frederick for a moment and seemed to come to some kind of realization, in which she seemed to relax quite considerably after.

“Ah, I see. Come in, come in, you must be exhausted.” She said, her face softening.

The immediate change in attitude was a bit jarring, and Orpheus had a feeling he may have accidentally deceived her in some way.

He didn’t get a chance to mention it before she ushered them in, closing and locking the door behind them. The inside of the apartment immediately felt much homelier, a wave of warmth washing over them that smelled of old quilts and soup. It was a bit cramped in the entrance, especially when the woman had to scoot past them, leading them further inside.

“Dear, put on some tea, would you?” She called out as they entered the snug little living room. “We have guests.”

A lanky man with dark hair and soft green eyes appeared from the direction of the kitchen, blinking at them a bit as though he’d just woken up from a nap.

“Oh. Um, alright.” He said, sounding a bit unsure of himself, giving the woman a look that likely held hidden words only the two of them could understand.

“I know,” She said in a whisper, gently placing a hand on his arm before turning back towards him and Frederick. “You can take a seat if you’d like, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

With that the both of them vanished back into the kitchen, likely to have some sort of private discussion. He gave Frederick a bit of an awkward look, but the musician simply shrugged and shook his head, as though telling him he had no idea what was going on either. With nothing better to do, the two of them sat quietly, but Orpheus gradually began to worry.

He felt like a bit of an intruder. Had she let them in thinking they were someone else? Would they be upset if they knew who he really was? Who was he kidding, anybody would be upset to know who he really was, if they believed him, of course.

A traitorous thought struck him then, that perhaps the only reason Frederick was an exception was because he thought Orpheus wasn’t well in the head. He dug his nails into his palms hoping the pain would distract him, but it didn’t. That’s why they were here, wasn’t it? If anyone could help, a psychologist did make the most sense.

He wanted to cry, and he switched to gripping his knee instead, afraid he might draw blood. After taking a deep breath in, he slumped a bit in defeat. Maybe he did need help.

He jumped slightly when he felt Frederick place a hand over his, and when he looked up, his worries seemed to melt away. Something about the look in his eyes made it hard to believe he was lying, the way he gently held his hand and rubbed his thumb over Orpheus’ knuckles.

Orpheus found very suddenly that he wished that Frederick wasn’t wearing gloves. He’d started wearing them after the wounds on his hands had healed, making him wonder if they’d left any scars. Frederick never did tell him where he’d gotten them from, only that he didn’t need to worry- but it left him terribly curious. If he ran his fingers across the musician’s bare palms, would they be soft?

His thoughts were interrupted by Dr. Mesmer re-entering the room, and when she looked at them, he realized it probably looked like they were holding hands. Well, he supposed they were but he didn’t want her getting the wrong idea. He awkwardly cleared his throat, a warm flush coming to his cheeks as he tried as subtly as possible to slip his hand away and back into his lap.

His gaze unconsciously flickered over to Frederick’s face for a moment, and while it could have easily been his imagination, his cheeks seemed a bit pink as well.

“It’s alright, you don’t need to worry about that here.” She said with a kind smile, nodding her head. “You’re safe.”

Orpheus blinked at her, and swallowed the lump in his throat, finally gathering the courage to speak up.

“I- I’m sorry, I’m afraid there might have been some kind of misunderstanding- We heard about you from a doctor.” He said cautiously, testing the waters.

Her eyes widened a fraction for a moment, but this didn’t seem to alarm her all that much. “Oh! …you’re looking for treatment?” She asked, suddenly taking on a bit more of a professional posture.

Frederick gave a reply of, “Sort of…?” At the exact moment Orpheus said “No, not really.”

They looked at each other, both a bit confused, and Orpheus wished he could communicate with Frederick silently, the way Dr. Mesmer had with her partner before. He gave him a look that he hoped would explain himself, but he didn’t even really know how to put it into words himself.

Frederick simply gave him a puzzled look in return, looking completely lost. Orpheus sighed, knowing he couldn’t really blame him.

“…Are you or aren’t you?” Dr. Mesmer asked, looking quite confused herself.

“It’s-“ Frederick let out a distressed huff. “It’s complicated, I suppose. We heard you work with some sort of hypnosis that can return lost memories.”

“-Not all of them, though.” Orpheus blurted out, earning a perplexed look from the both of them. “I mean- would it be possible to recover select memories or something like that? …I feel like there’s some things I don’t quite want to remember is all.” He mumbled, feeling a bit embarrassed.

He hadn’t mentioned it to Frederick yet, but he was afraid of remembering everything. He had a dreadful feeling it might turn him back into the person who was willing to hurt his little sister, and he wanted to avoid that at all costs. He only needed a few memories of their childhood together, perhaps some places that held significance to them. The rest felt like the memories of a separate person, and if he kept trying to recall them he might lose himself entirely.

“Orpheus?” Frederick asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. He returned to the cozy little living room in which they were sitting

“…Sorry.” He muttered, shaking his head. “I just…”

“Would you mind explaining a bit more to me about what’s going on?” Dr. Mesmer asked, who suddenly seemed quite curious.

Her partner returned from the kitchen with a tray of tea, placing it on the coffee table, grabbing his own cup and curling up in an armchair nearby.

“I’m afraid I might sound insane if I explain it to you in full.”

“You aren’t.” Frederick said firmly, surprising him. Their hands were intertwined again, and while his eyes looked tired, they also looked completely certain. “I saw everything you did. If you’re mad, then so am I.”

They had been through all of this together, hadn’t they? Still, the man’s insistent solidarity both surprised and touched him deeply. Frederick had been given dozens of chances to pull back and doubt what they had seen, and yet still he stayed, his persistence baffling him. He realized how so incredibly lucky he was, to be pulled from that well by someone like Frederick. The fact he was here and made it this far felt like a one in a million chance, and it was all thanks to him.

He couldn’t stop smiling. He felt tears burning in his eyes, his heart bursting with gratitude, and he tried his best to swallow it all, not wanting to look like a baby.

“Alright,” He sniffed, unable to keep his voice from shaking a bit. “I’ll give it a try then.”

. . .

Dr. Mesmer, who insisted they call her Ada, listened intently to every word he said. Her poker face was unmatched, and he was grateful he wasn’t playing against her in a game of cards. Well, perhaps not literal cards, but in a way he was betting a lot on this. He didn’t know what exactly would happen if she didn’t believe them, and he truly hoped that they wouldn’t have to find out.

He was a bit worried about her partner, Emil he learned- judging them, but he really didn’t seem to be paying much attention, instead lost in his own little world, not entirely present.

The only time she interrupted was to ask for clarification when he was vague on certain details in an attempt to make himself sound more believable. It made him uncomfortable, but she clearly wanted every morsel of the truth, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.

By the time he finished, she looked to be deep in thought, and the tension he felt was a bit like the moment when you flipped the coin, and which side had landed face up was about to be revealed.

“Fascinating,” Was all she murmured, sitting back in her chair and taking a sip of her tea.

Orpheus truly had no idea what that meant or what to say to it, leaving him absolutely lost for words.

“…Is that a good thing?” Frederick whispered to him, fidgeting a bit in his seat, and he could only shrug.

“You’re lucky I’ve worked with The Order in the past. Had you come to anyone else about this, they probably wouldn’t have believed you.” She said, gently placing her cup back on it’s saucer.

Orpheus’ heart shuddered. “You work with The Order?”

“I did, a long time ago.” She clarified. “I don’t anymore, don’t worry.”

He let out a sigh of relief, letting his shoulders relax.

“I worked as part of a team, trying to rehabilitate the monsters that allegedly- you created.”

Orpheus flinched, shrinking in on himself from the guilt. The Nightmare King’s army of monsters.

“…They’re still around?” He asked, already knowing the answer. He’d seen a few already, but he’d assumed they might have woken up with him somehow. Had they been awake all this time?

“They’re immortal, of course.” She replied casually, not seeming to be too concerned with his internal struggle. “The Order has been working to cure them for centuries.”

“Surely they must have found something by now then, right?” Frederick asked, giving Orpheus’ hand a light squeeze.

“I’ve heard they managed to develop a cure, only it’s incredibly difficult and time consuming to make. That’s why I was contracted, to see if there was a way to reach their humanity through other means.” She said, folding her hands in her lap. “Unfortunately the project was terminated before we could discover any worthwhile results.”

Orpheus frowned. “Why?”

“One of my colleagues died to the hands of one of our subjects.” She said grimly, making the guilt bloom in his stomach like a wretched bouquet of thorned roses. That was his fault. Perhaps not directly, but the study wouldn’t have even had to take place if it weren’t for him. There would be no monsters, no need for a cure.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, swallowing thickly as he imagined what sort of untimely demise that person must have met.

Ada finally seemed to notice his guilty conscience, sighing softly at the sight. “It was a long time ago. There’s no need to be sorry.”

He could argue that there was, but the way she said it made him feel she already knew. There was no changing the past, not now, and not ever. Worrying about it wasn’t going to do anything.

“The point is, I’ve met many of these monsters before. Spoken with them.” She said, returning to the topic at hand. “They were people once, and some wish to be again. Some already are. If anyone is able to tell you what happened all those centuries ago, it’d be those ones.”

“Where would we find them?” Frederick asked quietly after a long and uncomfortable silence.

Ada sighed. “I’m not entirely sure. From what I know, the only ones who have been cured are The Beekeeper and The Prospector. I might be able to dig up some old records and see if I can find anything on them.”

“Please,” Orpheus said, more tired than desperate at this point. “I just want to know if she’s alive. My sister.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know. The Order guards it’s secrets tightly, and I’ve completely lost access to any sort of clearance I might’ve had. There is some old material I have though, it may be of use to you.” She said, standing up and opening a closet full of dust and boxes, overflowing with documents.

“Emil, come help me with this, would you?” She called, and the man suddenly came back to attention, and walked over to help her move aside the towers of heavy boxes.

“Ah, here it is-“ She heaved a musty old box over onto the coffee table, a cloud of dust puffing out from the sides as it slammed down onto the wood.

She opened it and pulled out an ancient looking book, flipping through it before placing it in front of them on a certain page. Frederick placed in between their laps, and scowled a bit, turning back and forth between two pages.

“This is all in latin.” He frowned, squinting at the text. “I’ve never been good at translating it.”

Orpheus tilted his head slightly to get a better look at the words on the page. They were a bit blurry, so he pulled the fractured monocle out of his pocket and tried his best to look through it.

“Actually, I can read this, I think.” He said, the words vaguely making sense to him.

Frederick just looked at him, seemingly surprised. “You can?”

“A bit.” He grumbled, pulling it closer.

“It doesn’t surprise me.” Ada said, sitting down and crossing her legs. “While one might forget who they are, things like reading and writing are much more ingrained into our memories. From what I know, The Nightmare King used to be quite the storyteller, so it makes sense for him to have been able to read and write latin.”

Orpheus looked up at her, a bit surprised himself. “Really?” He laughed a bit, shaking his head and looking over at Frederick. “I suppose you were right, then.”

Frederick smiled, and while it looked as though he wanted to say something, he didn’t for whatever reason. He just looked at Orpheus fondly, something that stirred a peculiar tingling in his gut.

“Thank you, for all of this.” He said, turning back to Ada with a large smile. “This- I really appreciate all of this.”

She smiled sympathetically in return, looking at the two of them, who had somehow ended up sitting quite close together on the couch, their hands still joined, which Orpheus hadn’t really even been paying attention to.

“Of course. We have a spare room, it’s a bit small but you’re welcome to stay as long as you need.” She said, holding a strange look in her eyes, like somehow she knew something he didn’t. “You know, I hadn’t considered that as a method back then. Retaining one’s humanity with love.”

Things suddenly clicked into place, like the inner mechanisms of a bomb. The two of them exploded with babbled responses and explanations, and Orpheus’ face felt so hot he thought he might have come down with a fever.

“Oh-! O-oh, no- no, no, we- we’re just friends!” Frederick finally managed to stammer out, face red as a tomato, laughing nervously. “I- I think you’ve- um, misunderstood-“

“Yes.” Orpheus agreed, clearing his throat, and readjusting himself in his seat so the two of them were no longer shoulder to shoulder. “J-Just friends.”

His heart was beating wildly as though he were telling a lie, but it was the truth, wasn’t it? Frederick had said he considered him a friend, but did that inherently make them friends? He wasn’t even sure, so the thought of them being something more was a bit inconceivable. They barely even knew each other, after all.

Ada didn’t seem particularly convinced, raising her eyebrows in an unimpressed manner. “If you say so, I suppose. Though I’m afraid we only have one bed in the guest room, I hope that won’t be an issue.”

“-It won’t be.” Orpheus said quickly, closing the old book and tucking it under his arm as he stood up from the couch. “I can always sleep on the couch.”

“You will not!” Frederick exclaimed, also standing and crossing his arms. “You slept on my couch for weeks, I won’t have you ruining your back like that again.”

“But-!”

His back did hurt a bit. Sleeping in train cars hadn’t exactly done his body wonders either, but he didn’t want to make Frederick uncomfortable.

“It’s a large bed.” Ada sighed, seeming to be growing weary of their bickering. “You’ll both fit fine, I was only teasing.”

“O-Oh. Right.”

It was starting to get late, and Orpheus had already embarrassed himself enough for one day, so the conversation didn’t last much longer.

. . .

Reading by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, Orpheus turned the pages as quietly as he could, knowing Frederick was sleeping beside him. He’d read the chapters on The Prospector and The Beekeeper over and over again, hoping they might trigger some kind of memory. He’d met these people supposedly, but he couldn’t even recall what they looked like, beyond the sketchy drawings that looked more like monsters than people.

Would he remember them if he saw their human faces again? …Would he even want to remember? He’d turned them into monsters, and he could hardly blame them for wanting him dead. He realized this plan probably wasn’t the safest thing if he wanted to keep his head on his shoulders, but the only thing he hoped was that Frederick wouldn’t somehow get caught in the crossfire.

He had a feeling he was going to get what was coming to him, and he was surprisingly comfortable with that, but Frederick’s absolute faith in the possibility of his redemption… It frightened
him. It scared him because it meant he couldn’t give up on himself just yet, not while someone still believed in him.

It felt nice, to have someone believe in him. He was scared of it, but he wasn’t quite sure he was ready to let it go just yet.

“Orpheus?” Frederick asked softly, and when he looked over he saw that the man had flipped over to face him, ivory locks spilling beneath his head where it rested on the pillow.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Frederick shook his head. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Neither could I.”

They stared at each other for a moment, before the musician’s gaze suddenly made him a bit nervous. Not in a way that unsettled him, like the ravens they’d been trying so hard to avoid, but in a way that almost made him feel embarrassed about something. He stared intently at the book, hoping it might distract him from the feeling.

He’d come to the end of the chapter again, and was ready to flip back to the start of the section he’d been reading, before he noticed something felt a bit strange about it. His brow furrowed as he read everything over again, looking carefully for anything odd, but it felt more like the book itself was a bit off, not the contents on the page.

He flipped to the page before, and then back again, and it was almost like the book wanted to be open to that page instead. Placing the ribbon bookmark down on the page, he closed the book and turned it sideways to get a better look at the spine. It wasn’t the centre of where the book was bound, not even close, yet it seemed almost to be uneven.

“What’s the matter?” Frederick asked curiously, sitting up and peering over his shoulder.

“I don’t… know.” He muttered, opening it back up to the same spot.

He opened the book up as wide as he could, wincing a bit as the old spine cracked a bit from the pressure, but as he did, he realized something was strange about the space between the pages.

“…I think some of the pages have been removed.” He said, gently feeling the space with his thumb. It wasn’t jagged as though it had been torn, but cleanly cut, as though it had been intentional. “It looks like whoever did it was something of a professional.”

“That’s certainly peculiar.” Frederick said, tilting his head. “You don’t think it could have been Ada, do you?”

Orpheus shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I can’t imagine why she would do something like that in the first place.”

“Well, do the pages it’s between give any context?”

“Not… really. There was something a bit strange, however.” He replied, flipping back a bit. “From what I gathered, this chapter is on the people who have been cured. Dr. Mesmer only mentioned there being two, but the beginning of the chapter implies a third.”

“What do you mean?”

Orpheus chewed his lip thoughtfully, trying to draw on his memories to fill the gaps in this incomplete record. Both The Prospector and The Beekeeper were related to his sister in some way, he knew that much from their respective records, but the text vaguely hinted at someone else being present in that inner circle. He thought at first it might have been referring to him, but somehow that didn’t feel quite right.

“I’m not sure.” He sighed, closing the book and leaning his head back against the headboard. “It might be nothing. It’s probably nothing.”

“Anything useful on the other two?”

“The Beekeeper, not really. Most of what I read could be boiled down to the fact she just vanished. Dropped off the face of the earth.”

“Ah. What was the other one again?”

“The Prospector.” He grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Apparently has a tendency to be dangerous and unpredictable. He lives somewhere in an old quarry in the middle of nowhere, not far from the mining town he apparently comes from.”

“It’s a location, I suppose.” Frederick offered optimistically.

“I guess.” Orpheus sighed. “It sounds dangerous. Are you sure you want to come with me?”

“Of course.” Frederick huffed, raising his chin proudly. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Orpheus couldn’t help but laugh a little, admiring the man’s persistence.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt because of me.” He said a bit sadly. Frederick had already given up so much for him, he didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if something happened.

“It’s fine,” Frederick insisted, laying back down. “I’m not good for much anyways, it’s not like anyone would miss me.” He joked, but his smile faded when he saw Orpheus’ devastated expression.

He pursed his lips, looking away. “…Sorry.”

“No, it’s…” Orpheus laid his head down on his own pillow as well, bringing them to the same level. “I just wish you wouldn’t say things like that about yourself. Why would you think that?”

“I…” Frederick swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing as he seemed to consider what he was going to say. “My family-“ He paused. “-never mind.”

They sat in silence for a moment, and Orpheus couldn’t lie, the curiosity scraped at the back of his skull like a bad headache. He knew so little about himself, and somehow still knew more about his own past than Frederick’s. He didn’t seem to enjoy talking about it much, that much was clear.

“You’re not very close with them, are you?” He asked, choosing his words carefully to make sure he didn’t cross any kind of invisible boundaries.

Frederick sighed. “No. They- they’ve never been the most affectionate people. Not to me, anyways.”

“Why?”

He looked away, chewing on his lower lip. “‘Suppose I never quite fit in with the rest of them.” He mumbled, thinking to himself. “I was always a bit of an odd child. Neurotic- defective, perhaps.”

The word ‘defective’ made something in his chest tighten. He had an urge to tell him he wasn’t, but he realized that it wasn’t his place to say something like that with how little he knew.

“Did you know I was supposed to have a twin?” Frederick asked quietly, and Orpheus blinked, a bit surprised.

“…You were?”

The musician nodded. “My father never really told me much about it. Only that my mother and supposed sibling didn’t make it. He never said it, but I think he might have blamed me for it.”

“Frederick…” Orpheus said gently, offering him a place to stop in case he didn’t want to continue, but Frederick didn’t take it.

“There were a lot of rumours, when I was growing up, that I wasn’t even his legitimate son. After all, I was never as gifted as the rest of them.”

Orpheus reached over and grasped Frederick’s hand, making him flinch, though he didn’t pull away.

“You don’t have to keep going, if you don’t want to.” Orpheus assured him, noticing a wetness in the man’s eyes as he turned back to look at him.

Frederick shakily wiped the tears from his eyes, laughing a bit as he shook his head. “Sorry. I’ve always been such a crybaby. I don’t even know what I’m upset over.”

“It’s alright,” Orpheus said, smiling sadly. “You’ve dealt with my grievances before, I don’t mind listening to some of yours.”

Frederick’s smile became more genuine, as he rested his head against the headboard, looking at Orpheus with a softness in his eyes that squeezed his heart.

“Maybe I’ll tell you all about it, after this is all over.” He said, intertwining their fingers. He wasn’t wearing gloves anymore, and the warmth was almost enough to make him lightheaded.

“After it’s over?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Yeah. Once we find your sister and we figure all this out.” Frederick said, yawning as he slumped to rest his head down on his pillow.

“I hadn’t really thought about what we would do after.” Orpheus admitted with a chuckle, also laying down, the two of them almost face to face.

“We could go back to the cottage, if you wanted.” He suggested, taking Orpheus by surprise.

“If you’d have me.” He said, fondly remembering the time he’d lived there.

“Of course,” he replied softly, as though he hadn’t even considered another answer. “Of course.”

“…Perhaps you should really be more careful with what ancient evils you allow into your house.” Orpheus pointed out, making Frederick giggle. “-I’m serious!”

“-What ancient evils? You mean you? If you’re the most evil thing I need to be worried about then I think I’ll be alright.”

“Wh-“ Orpheus scoffed, taking slight offense. “I’m very evil! And old. Hundreds of years older than you, probably. You ought to respect your elders.”

This only make him snicker even more. “Oh you were asleep for most of it, get off your high horse.”

Orpheus couldn’t help but crack at that, and their stifled laughter gradually faded into a comfortable silence. Again, he realized they were still holding hands, making his face grow a bit warm.

He awkwardly pulled his hand away, turning to place the book on the nightstand and turn off the lamp. His eyes had adjusted enough that he could still see Frederick in the darkness, and he wondered if the musician could see him too.

“Goodnight, Orpheus.”

“…Goodnight.”

Notes:

If anyone’s confused why Ada let them in it’s because she mistook them for a gay couple hiding from the law. I mean she’s not entirely wrong, just a bit off

Chapter 7: VII

Summary:

Just a warning I’ve changed the rating because of this chapter! It’s nothing insanely graphic, but if you don’t want spoilers you can just ignore the trigger warnings. Shits boutta get WILD, folks

 

(TW: Recalling past traumatic memories, self-deprecating thoughts, blood, eye trauma, background character death, mugging, murder, violence, fear, body horror, broken bones (?), panic attacks)

Every so often, the train’s wheels would clunk against the tracks, jostling him in his seat. Frederick had been looking out the window for nearly an hour now, and his legs were starting to grow stiff. It was a longer ride, and had cost more, but it would bring them directly where they needed to be, which cut down on the amount of places they would be seen in public.

He was still nervous they were being followed, and it was as though if he ever let his guard down for a moment, that was when they would choose to strike. He was being paranoid, he knew that, but that didn’t stop every glance their way making his skin crawl. He took deep breaths and hummed a song to himself, gently tapping his fingers on the table in an attempt to decrease his stress.

Staying with Ada and Emil had been a nice break, but Orpheus had brought up the reasonable point that the longer they stayed, the more trouble they might cause if something really was following them. So, off they went.

The things behind them weren’t the only thing worrying him. Orpheus had told him about The Prospector, who sounded like a less than agreeable character. He was ready to pull the man out of danger if it came to that, or stand up for him need be. There were two of them, and presumably only one of him.

Really, what made him the most nervous was the mining town actually wasn’t very far his own home town, and he desperately hoped no one would recognize him for the laughing stock he was. It was quite a few miles away, but it was closer than he’d ever expected to be, given the circumstances. He tried his best not to focus on it, knowing at this point it was probably the least of his problems.

“You alright?” Orpheus asked, making him look up to see the man taking a break from scribbling away in the journal he’d given him.

“Fine-“ He sighed. “I’m… fine.”

“Are you sure? You know you can opt out of this at any time, if it ever gets to be too much.” He said, closing the journal and setting it aside. “You can always go home.”

Something about it almost made him laugh, and he wondered if he might be losing it a little. “Thank you, but it’s alright. Besides, I’m not entirely sure the cottage is safe anymore, with everything that’s going on.”

“I-“

“-You don’t need to apologize.” Frederick said before he could even get it out, smiling tiredly. “Even if it was, I’m not going back there without you.”

Orpheus closed his mouth, chuckling softly. “If you insist.”

“Are you alright?” He asked, noticing the bags underneath the man’s eyes, which likely matched his own.

“Yes, I just… I just wonder if it would have been faster to restore my memories or not. With hypnosis, I mean.” Orpheus sighed, picking at the scar on his hand.

“You didn’t want to do that though,” Frederick commented, which only seemed to trouble him more. “Why didn’t you? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

Orpheus drummed his fingers on the table, humming thoughtfully to himself. “If I tell you, do you promise to answer a question in return?”

Frederick blinked, but let out a breathy laugh, raising an eyebrow. “What, like a game?”

“More like a deal.” He said, tapping his chin. “What do you say? You want to deal with the devil?”

Again, Frederick couldn’t help but snort. He knew what Orpheus was, he wasn’t stupid, but it always seemed a bit silly to treat him like some kind of mythological figure. To him, he was just a man, even if at times he felt like a little something more.

“Sure, you’re on. I’m curious now, what’s the reason?”

“Ah- well it’s a bit… depressing.” Orpheus admitted sheepishly, sitting back with a sigh. “I’m afraid that if I recover all of my memories, then I’ll turn back into… that person.“

“…What makes you think that?”

“-I’m not sure… It's just something I feel certain about. Like someone’s thrown me into a game without telling me the rules, yet somehow I already know them. It’s- it worries me.”

“Why?”

Orpheus bit down on his lower lip, his gaze shifting to look out at the passing scenery. “It- I don’t know. I feel like it’s getting harder to keep myself from remembering them. Like they’re gradually leaking through without me even noticing.”

“…Is that so bad? I mean it sounds better then remembering them all at once.” He offered, but Orpheus just sighed in frustration, as though he wasn’t quite getting it.

“Yes, but then I won’t be able to tell- I just don’t want to lose myself! I don’t- I don’t want to become that awful person without realizing, because then there’s nothing I can do to stop it!” He exclaimed, his head in his hands, sounding near tears.

“Orpheus…” Frederick whispered, the sight twisting his heart. “I- …I’m sorry.”

“For what,” Orpheus laughed shakily, wiping away his tears.

“That I can’t do anything.” Frederick’s throat tightened at the realization, having never felt so useless in his life. “I- I want to help, but I’m just some dismal little composer. I’m not even-“ He sighed, his voice shaking. “I wish I were better. I wish I were better, so that I could think of a way to help you.”

God, what was wrong with him? This wasn’t about him. How selfish was he, to try and make this about himself? Orpheus was the one suffering, not him.

“…Sorry.” He said again.

“You being here is help enough.”

He looked up as Orpheus reached a hand across the table and placed it over his. The way the sunlight danced across his face was something quite extraordinary. He knew it was because of the passing shadows from outside the train, but it made him look almost ethereal.

Frederick hadn’t noticed it before, but the way his eyes reflected light was a bit odd, making him feel like something more than human. Well, he was, he supposed, and while normally the thought should have frightened him, with Orpheus he couldn’t help but be fascinated by it. Before him sat a man who had lived hundreds and hundreds of years ago, and yet he didn’t look any older than him.

Orpheus seemed to notice his staring, and awkwardly pulled his hand back, clearing his throat and looking out the window, his face flushed in embarrassment. It was almost comical, to believe that he was the fabled scourge of legend that had brought monsters into the world, yet there were times when the man had an empty look in his eyes that made him shiver.

“Aren’t you going to ask your question?” Frederick asked after a considerable amount of silence, and Orpheus blinked at him, seeming to have forgotten. “One question, I’ll answer as honestly as I can.”

“Oh- right.” He said, thinking to himself for a long moment. He was clearly carefully choosing his words, as though Frederick were some kind of fae trickster who would weasel his way out of the deal if given the chance, which was ironic, considering Orpheus was much closer to anything like that than him.

“-At the museum,” He started slowly, and Frederick had to suppress a sigh, having a feeling he already knew what was going to be asked. “The curator, he said something about your reputation. What did he mean by that?”

Orpheus was much more clever than he’d like sometimes. There was no short answer he could give, not that would make sense, anyways. He’d have to explain a lot more than he’d been planning to, though he should have probably expected that upon taking the deal.

He exhaled through his nose, drumming his fingers on the table in an irregular rhythm, one that probably matched his heart beat.

“My father is a very famous composer.” He began, steeling himself as he did. “Many people in my family are musically talented, actually.”

“…I suppose that makes sense.” Orpheus said, and Frederick was tempted to end it there, but knew he couldn’t.

“…I’ve loved music, ever since I was young. It made the noise in my head so much easier to bear, and- I don’t know, I suppose I wanted to create something like that for myself.”

He’d had dreams, of creating a score so beautiful that it could change a person’s heart, but he could never quite remember the melody after he’d woken. It felt like a memory, something he’d heard a long time ago, and perhaps maybe it was.

“I’ve never been good at writing music,” He admitted, feeling surprisingly calm as he looked out the window. “Playing it- fine, but I was hardly anything special. Everything I made felt like a cheap imitation, like I was merely echoing parts of songs I’d already heard before.”

He looked back to Orpheus, but the man listened quietly, his gaze a bit somber.

“That’s how it always was, and no one was afraid to tell me otherwise. I suppose I’m a bit grateful for that. It only would have made things worse.”

In the end it hadn’t really helped, but he could appreciate their brutal honesty now, even if he couldn’t then.

“I stopped listening to them after a while. I decided that they were only distractions, and that I would compose something completely on my own, and let no one hear it until I was finished.”

He felt a little bit of nausea growing at the back of his throat, but he swallowed it down, knowing it was better to just get it over with.

“I suppose some people caught wind of my secret symphony, and because of my family name, it became something of an… ordeal.” He shivered, remembering the weight of all the expectations that had lain on his shoulders. “I was offered a solo performance, something that would elevate my name beyond even that of my father’s.”

He became quiet, trying to think of a way to put his feelings into words.

“I knew the expectations were going to be high, but all those months spent alone with all the noise in my head, I-“ He sighed shakily, clasping his hands tightly together. “I was so convinced that I had finally made my masterpiece. In the solitude of my room, I promise you I could feel my entire heart and soul in that song, so strongly that it nearly brought me to tears.”

It had been the song in his dreams. It had been everything he’d ever wanted and more, created by his own hands, through blood, sweat, and tears. All that was left to do was to share it with the world, and everyone was willing to listen.

“-But I got up on that stage,” He whispered, tears blurring his vision. “-And when I started playing, it felt completely different. Had I not been reading my own handwriting, I would have thought someone had given me a completely different song. It wasn’t- It didn’t feel right anymore.”

Suddenly he was there again, the heat of the stage lights burning his skin, as the warped, shadowed figures of hundreds of people watched his every movement. His heartbeat was louder than the music, and where the sound of the piano would have regularly calmed him, it felt so impossibly far away.

He was jostled in his seat as the train hit a bump on the tracks, and suddenly he was back, a sour taste in his mouth and an empty feeling in his chest.

“I don’t think I even finished the performance.” He muttered, consciously forcing himself to relax his tensed muscles. It was a bit fuzzy from then on, but he’d read enough news reports to know what happened. “I stood up, and before the audience had finished their disappointed applause, I had already fainted and hit my head on the floor.”

The silence that followed was deafening, and he couldn’t even imagine looking up to meet Orpheus’ gaze. Would he wear an expression of pity? Disappointment? Or perhaps simply a cold indifference, followed by the question; ‘Is that all?’

“I humiliated myself and my family. Everyone knew me as the mediocre composer who made a fool of himself, so I suppose I did become famous like I wanted. Just not in the way I expected.”

“…I hope you didn’t feel like you were obligated to tell me all that.” Orpheus said softly.

He took a deep breath, finally looking up at him. “A deal’s a deal.”

“I wouldn’t have been mad if you had backed out.”

“I know,” He laughed weakly, smiling sadly. “…I know.“

Orpheus’ gaze didn’t feel judgemental in any way, surprisingly. There was only a gentle understanding, something he hadn’t realized he’d been desperately craving all this time. No solutions for moments already passed, no advice, just someone who was willing to actually listen to him. And here he was, sitting across from him and looking at Frederick like he really mattered.

“It’s actually kind of nice,” He said, his smile melting into something more content. “Talking about it like this. There was a place in which I was convinced that it had been the end of my life. Seems a bit silly, now that I’m thinking about it.”

“I… think I know what that’s like.” Orpheus said, his expression a bit melancholy as he seemed to get lost in his own thoughts.

Not long after, the loud squealing of the train’s brakes signalled that they’d arrived, and Frederick grabbed their suitcase before they began shuffling out of the train along with the handful of other passengers.

The glare of the bright afternoon soon made him squint and shield his eyes, wondering if they were in the right place. There didn’t appear to be many people about the shabby little town, the sound of the wind blowing louder than any bustling that might be about.

They walked further in and came upon a large stone statue that appeared to be in the middle of what used to be a fountain, the water that ran through it having dried up a long time ago, leaving it bone dry.

The imposing figure of a miner stared blankly down at them, hands folded and resting on a pickaxe in front of him. It was too worn by the elements to discern any features, but he had a feeling he knew who it was.

A sickly looking old man sat on the edge of the fountain, smoking a pipe and grumbling to himself.

“…Excuse me,” Frederick greeted upon making sure there was truly no one else in sight. The man seemed to ignore them at first but after he cleared his throat, he looked up at them with an annoyed grunt.

“We’re uh, looking for someone.” He said, just now realizing that he didn’t know The Prospector’s name. “A prospector.”

The old man raised an eyebrow, looking at them skeptically. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, boy. This is a mining town.”

“Norton Campbell.” Orpheus said suddenly, surprising him. He looked completely certain of himself, so Frederick assumed the name must have been in the book somewhere.

The old man’s gaze hardened, and Frederick glanced nervously between the two of them as Orpheus stared him down without flinching.

“Do you know him?” He asked, his expression cold and composed, and the man scoffed, turning away from them.

“Go home, ye pompous fools.” He spat, returning to chewing on his pipe.

Frederick frowned, turning to Orpheus, hoping he had some kind of plan. He was unsettled to see that the warmth hadn’t quite returned to his gaze, and he didn’t even look at Frederick as he began walking off in a seemingly random direction.

“Wh- Orpheus, where are you going?” He hissed, trotting after him, but the man didn’t seem to hear him. It was starting to worry him now, so he reached forwards to grab his wrist, forcing him to stop. “Orpheus!”

He blinked, seeming to have zoned out for a moment, shaking his head as he came back to himself. “…Hmm?”

The man finally met his eyes, and Frederick was relieved to find they were back to how they usually were, which surprised him considering he hadn’t noticed any sort of change. Had they been different just a moment ago? He hadn’t been paying enough attention to remember.

“Are you alright?” He asked, concerned, and Orpheus just looked at him, confused.

“Yes, I’m… I’m fine.” He said, not sounding entirely certain of himself. “I just thought we could go ask someone else. Most people are probably working right now, so I thought we might have a better chance running into someone over by the mines.”

“…Right! Yes, that makes sense.” Frederick said, laughing off his unease. He wasn’t sure how Orpheus knew which way the mines were, and Frederick began to worry that Orpheus was starting to remember more than he was telling, but if he was wrong, he didn’t want to embarrass himself.

It was probably just information from the book, he reasoned.

Sure enough, not far down a path through the tall pines, the sound of people missing from the town could be heard in a clearing just ahead, along with the sounds of clanking and metal on rock.

It was getting a bit late in the day, and as they approached, the people seemed to be starting to pack up, ending a day of hard labour. Most of them were covered in dirt, sweat, or smudged with coal, and the two of them quickly became the centre of attention, looking so jarringly out of place among the mounds of muscle and grit.

“We’re looking for a man that lives around here. Norton Campbell.” Orpheus said, looking a lot braver than Frederick felt.

Laughter rippled from the crowd of workers, and despite not even being the one speaking, he felt heat rise to his cheeks in embarrassment. He wasn’t fond of the way they were looking at him.

“Old saint Campbell, huh?” A particularly burly man chuckled, stepping forwards and towering over the both of them. “What’s in it for us?”

“We’ll pay you!” Frederick blurted without thinking it through. “I-If you’re willing to guide us through the woods, I mean.”

This certainly seemed to grab their attention, the large burly man leaning over to murmur something into another miner’s ear, before turning back to them, his arms crossed.

“Alright. Me and a few of the boys might be able to get off early and help you out. You’ll have to wait a bit though.” He grunted, and Frederick nodded, relief flooding in his chest.

“O-Of course, take as long as you need.” He smiled.

The two of them sat nearby as the miners finished up their work, and Frederick had to fight the urge to grab Orpheus’ hand and just hold it. He was fidgeting anxiously and it might have offered him some comfort, but Orpheus looked particularly lost in his thoughts, and he didn’t quite want to draw attention to it.

They hadn’t touched since that awkward moment on the train, and he didn’t want to make things uncomfortable between them.

Was there a rift growing between them, or was he simply overthinking things? If not emotional, he’d certainly noticed a physical one. When had Orpheus stopped leaning on him for support? He hadn’t been using the cane for quite a while now, and his legs had to have been tired- he was still recovering, after all. But he seemed completely fine now, as though he’d never needed it in the first place.

He looked at Frederick less, too. It shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did, but since they’d left the Mesmers’ residence Orpheus had gained a deep sadness to his gaze that seemed to make him blind to everything else. He was troubled, that much was clear, Frederick just wished he had some way to help.

He was about to speak his mind when the burly miner from earlier approached them before he had the chance, his courage deflating out of him as soon as they were no longer alone.

“S’about a twenty minute hike out there, we ought to get going if you wanna get there before dark.” He said, followed by a handful of other men, who all seemed a bit antsy.

“…Right.” Orpheus said as he stood, giving a nod. “Lead the way, we’ll follow.”

. . .

They were walking for what felt like a lot longer than twenty minutes, though that might have been because of the heavy suitcase Frederick was lugging alongside them. He was wheezing and sweating by the time they made it to a clearing, wondering if perhaps he should have left it at the town. He threw it down and sat on it as he caught his breath, gazing around at the old abandoned mine they were now standing in the middle of.

It clearly hadn’t been in use for many years, and some of the tunnels looked as though they’d collapsed in on themselves, and he shuddered, wondering if anyone had been trapped inside when they did. Could bodies like that even be recovered? Or would they still be buried underneath all that debris, forgotten like lost toys? Either way, the thought disturbed him, so he stood up and looked around, realizing that they didn’t plan on bringing him and Orpheus any further.

“…Well, is he here?” Frederick asked nervously, and was unnerved by the fact none of them seemed willing to look him in the eye.

Something was wrong here, and he had a feeling this wasn’t where they wanted to be.

He backed into one of them by accident, nearly startling him out of his skin, and it was only then he realized that they were closing around them like a pack of wolves. A large hand grabbed his arm, and Orpheus immediately stepped towards them with a furious look in his eye, only to get tackled from behind, making Frederick cry out in alarm.

“Orpheus!” He shouted, squirming and kicking as someone grabbed him from under his arms, lifting his feet off the ground.

He saw Orpheus’ face being pushed into the dirt, and he thrashed around wildly in an attempt to break free, panic taking a hold of him as he realized what was happening.

“Nothing personal.” The man holding down Orpheus grimaced, looking like he’d rather not be doing this.

As Frederick struggled, the back of his head smacked what felt like someone’s jaw, staggering the person holding him for a moment, but not long enough for him to escape.

“Let go! Let-!” He nearly choked on his own breath as a pocket knife was held up to his neck, going deathly still as he felt the blade graze against his skin. He choked back a sob as the burly man from earlier approached him, taking something of a leadership role.

“Search him.” He grunted, and another man began patting him down for any valuables. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see another miner emptying the contents of his suitcase, scattering clothes all along the ground.

Eventually they found his wallet, and the blade was lowered from his neck, but he was shaking too much to try anything.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He turned to the man holding down Orpheus. “Find anything on that one?”

“Um. I found a nice pen?” The heavier set man replied, and as he held it up to the light Frederick recognized it as one of his own, an old fountain pen Orpheus must have taken from somewhere in his house.

“…Suppose we can pawn it off or something.” He grunted, before turning back to Frederick and grabbing him by the face.

“Y’know people like you make me sick.” He scowled, his foul smelling breath making Frederick’s eyes water. “I bet you’ve never done a day of hard work in your life, have you?”

Orpheus let out an audible snarl, violently struggling on the ground like an angry beast. It frightened him a bit, to see Orpheus so angry, but he didn’t get to look long before the burly man yanked his chin so they were face to face again.

“You look at me!” He shouted in Frederick’s face, and he had to suppress a whimper. “I work day in and day out just to make a penny to live off of, do you understand!? I do all of the work, just for all of the money to go into the pockets of people like you!”

The sheer volume of the man’s voice made his ears ring, and he could feel tears flowing freely down his cheeks at this point. The worst part was that he couldn’t even say he was wrong.

He felt like such an idiot. Looking back on it, this had clearly been such a moronic idea. He’d forgotten he wasn’t in some kind of fairy tale, that he wasn’t on some sort of whimsical adventure. This was all really happening, and the real world was no where near as kind. They were going to die, and it would be all his fault. It seemed like fitting end for someone pathetic like him, but Orpheus couldn’t die here, not like this. His story wasn’t finished yet, he had so much more to do.

“Please,” He uttered, lip trembling. “Let us go. Take anything you want- whatever you want, just let us go. Please.”

He’d never felt so utterly small, begging for his own life like this. Tears dripped off his face onto the dirt below, and he wished he were brave enough to try anything else.

“…Hey boss-“

“What.” The man snapped, looking to one of the men who looked decently uncomfortable with the situation at hand.

“I- uh,”

“Spit it out, Tom.”

“I just- he looks sorta familiar, doesn’t he?”

Frederick’s heart sank.

“Yeah!” The man holding down Orpheus piped up as the man below him went still. “He’s one of them Kreiburgs, isn’t he?”

“Oh,” The man chuckled. “So you’re not just any spoiled brat, huh? You’re the famous kind. We’d probably get a lot if we ransomed you off, wouldn’t we?”

Frederick wasn’t convinced they could, but he couldn’t think of anything to say that would make them believe him. Maybe this was really a better outcome- it at least led to a chance at survival.

“What about the other one?” Someone asked.

The burly man looked down at Orpheus, who had fallen into a quiet and seething rage, the look in his eye nothing short of murderous.

“Just kill him.” He scoffed, waving a hand dismissively.

“No!” Frederick shrieked, struggling wildly, stamping down on the foot of the man holding him as hard as he could.

The man cried out in pain and loosened his grip long enough for Frederick to break free, and without even thinking he made a sprint straight towards Orpheus, with not even a plan of what he was going to do.

Fortunately, he didn’t need a plan, because he never got there. The burly man grabbed him by the back his coat and yanked so hard he stumbled and fell backwards onto the ground, and just as he was scrambling to get back up, he saw the dim moonlight glint off of a blade being stabbed down towards him, like the sound of an arrow whizzing through the air before it impaled the windpipe of an unsuspecting deer.

This was it. He was really going to die.

He blinked, fully expecting to be dead by the time he opened his eyes again, but was instead met with the sight of shining black feathers, and the discordant cries of dozens of ravens as they swooped down and began attacking the miners.

He screamed, he couldn’t help it, drawing attention to himself in the process. The burly man swatted away the bird that was swarming him, and his eyes landed back on Frederick, a murderous fury in his gaze.

He tried to get up, but he was shaking too much. His fate may have been delayed by a moment, but he was still going to die.

Then, in the whirlwind of feathers and chaos, came Orpheus. Fountain pen gripped tightly in his hand, he plunged it into the burly man’s left eye with a sickening squelch. As he yanked it out, and the man’s body fell to the ground with a lifeless thud, and the clearing suddenly became very, very silent.

There was the distant sound of flapping wings as the ravens retreated, and Orpheus’ laboured breaths, coming out in uneven pants, but besides that everyone just stared in a complete and horrified silence.

A pool of ruby red blood seeped into the gravel around the man’s head, and for a moment, that felt as though that’s all there was.

Orpheus fell to his knees, the pen falling from his fingers and rolling away, and Frederick could almost feel something invisible snap like a rope. He stared at the blood with an empty gaze, clutched his head, and began screaming.

It was a scream of pain, and Frederick didn’t realize why until he heard a disgusting sound of bones snapping, as something black began to sprout from Orpheus’ arms, face, and neck.

“Oh what the fuck,” He heard one of the miners gasp, and it didn’t take long for all of them to start running, likely deciding that this was no longer worth the trouble.

Frederick sat completely frozen in horror, as he watched Orpheus’ body contort and shift, grow larger and more monstrous. The black sprouting from his skin was feathers, he realized, long, black and iridescent in the moonlight. All the while he was screaming in absolute agony, clutching his hair in his hands.

Tears dripped down from the man’s face, and Frederick saw that he was crying. It was then his body finally decided to let him move, but the ravens had returned and began swarming him, determined not to let him interfere. He didn’t let it stop him, and he continued on through the growing storm of talons and wings and beaks, tearing the sleeves of his coat to shreds as he held them up in front of him.

He needed to get to Orpheus, he needed to make sure he was alright.

Eventually, he got close enough that they seemed to give up, instead flying up to circle over them like a bunch of hungry vultures.

“Orpheus!” He shouted, grabbing him by the shoulders, but the man continued to hyperventilate, crying out in pain. The feathers were tearing through the back of his vest now, and Frederick realized he didn’t have long before this change would become irreversible.

“Orpheus, look at me!” He cried hysterically, grabbing the sides of his face and forcing him to look him in the eyes. “Please, look at me!”

His eyes were no longer brown but a bright and unnatural purple, but there was still pain there, still anguish, so he knew he wasn’t too late.

“…Alice?” He asked, sounding lost and confused, clearly out of it.

“No, it’s me-“ Frederick sobbed, tears blurring his vision. “It’s me, It’s Frederick!”

“Fred… Frederick.” He said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Don’t leave!” He cried, his voice cracking terribly. “Please don’t leave me- not yet- I’m not ready!”

A familiarly sad look appeared in Orpheus’ eyes, in it a sort of silent apology that could never be put into words.

“You should run,” He rasped, gently caressing the side of Frederick’s face with a growing claw. “Get away, while you still can.”

“No!” Frederick shouted, his stubborness seeming to surprise the both of them. “You’re not him! I promise, you’re not him! Just stay!” He said, throwing him arms around Orpheus’ neck and holding him tightly.

Suddenly, the wind seemed to stop. Feathers stopped growing, ravens stopped screaming, and it was like the whole world had come to a standstill at his request.

“Please.” He whispered, face buried in a soft blanket of feathers, soaking up his tears.

“…I killed him.” Orpheus said weakly.

“I know,” Frederick said, hugging him tighter. “I know. It wasn’t your fault- you were just trying to protect me.”

“It doesn’t change what I’ve done. Everything I’ve done.”

“…I know.”

Slowly, he felt the man’s body begin to shrink back down to it’s normal size, feathers withdrawing, claws turning back into hands, that pulled Frederick closer to him and hugged him back.

“Why won’t you give up on me?” He whispered, the cold night air blowing past them as though nothing had happened at all.

“Because I can’t go back,” Frederick murmured into the man’s shoulder, gripping him tightly. “I don’t want to go back to that house, not without you. I don’t want to be alone again.”

Orpheus gave a tired chuckle, shaking his head.

“And you couldn’t have chosen anyone else?”

“It wouldn’t be the same.”

He pulled away, and saw there was still some blood splattered on Orpheus’ tear stained face, so he reached into his pocket and grabbed a handkerchief, gently wiping it away. He looked exhausted, distraught, but his eyes were back to normal, and right now that’s all he could really ask for.

Both their clothes were a wreck, but thankfully after discarding his scarlet coat Frederick discovered his shirt and vest were relatively intact, at least compared to Orpheus’. The entire back had been torn open, and the seams were stretched far beyond their limit, making it look as though he’d suddenly lost a lot of weight as it hung off his frame.

Frederick got up with a sigh, and began scouring the scattered contents of their suitcase for a suitable replacement. While nothing he found could be considered entirely clean, he found an old cotton shirt that would have to do.

Orpheus hadn’t moved from where he was sitting on the ground, just staring at the handkerchief Frederick had given to him, seemingly lost in thought. He let Frederick change his shirt, but still made no move to get up, and Frederick began to wonder if it was because he couldn’t.

“Do you need help?” He asked, and the man finally looked up at him, expression looking a bit lost.

“I… Yes, please.”

He struggled to get to his feet, but Frederick patiently stood steady, allowing him to lean on him for support. He didn’t appear to have any external injuries, but Frederick couldn’t imagine he wasn’t in some kind of pain. Even if he wasn’t, Frederick didn’t think he would mind.

His attention was stolen by the sound of someone approaching, and he quickly got ready to defend Orpheus who clearly in too weak of a state to do anything. He thought perhaps it was one of the miners, coming back to collect the scraps of what was left, so he bared his teeth, moving himself in front of Orpheus.

The figured stepped out of the shadows, hands raised in surrender, but no fear in their step. Frederick was met with an oddly familiar face, though he was sure he hadn’t seen it before.

The left side of the man’s face bore burn scars, as did a bit of his neck and left forearm, like he’d survived some sort of horrible blast and somehow survived. His eyes were dark and serious, and had a look to them that made him feel much more ancient than he looked.

“Norton.” Orpheus rasped, grabbing Frederick’s shoulder and stepping forwards.

“Relax,” The man grunted, his voice hoarse and a bit gravely. “I’m not here to pick a fight.”

Orpheus glared at him in a way that implied they knew one another, and that he knew better than to trust him by his word.

“I saw it all. I know you’re not him.” Norton said, crossing his arms. “Not yet, anyways.”

“You didn’t think to help?” Orpheus snapped, somewhat bitterly, but the exhaustion in his voice stole any bite out of the remark.

“-And what was I supposed to do, huh? I’m not exactly a one man army anymore.” He snorted, raising an eyebrow.

The distant howl of a wolf cut the conversation short, the twilight sky growing darker by the second, the woods getting colder as well. The man- Norton Campbell himself supposedly, looked at the two of them shaking on their feet and sighed.

“C’mon.” Was all he grumbled before he began trudging into the woods, gesturing for them to follow.

Before he could follow him blindly, Frederick grabbed Orpheus by the wrist, pulling him back for a moment to speak.

“…You’re sure we can trust him?” He asked hesitantly, and Orpheus leaned into him, eyelashes fluttering tiredly.

“No, but it’s not like we have much of a choice right now.” He said, gently grabbing Frederick’s hand.

He was right, of course. They had no clue how to get back to town, and even if they did, he wasn’t sure they wanted to. This strange man seemed to be their only option, so Frederick began leading Orpheus after him before he had the chance to vanish into the trees, something he was sure he would do if given the chance.

. . .

It was strange to say that Frederick had half dragged Orpheus through the dark woods while he was exhausted himself twice now, but at least this time they were both conscious, which he supposed was an improvement. It was also less like dragging a corpse and more like helping along someone who was drunk and half asleep at the same time.

To his credit, Norton did wait for them at times, lighting a lantern so they had something to follow. He felt a bit like a moth, drifting towards the moving light, and he wondered if they would ever stop.

Eventually they came to an old looking cabin, a large dog barking from the other side of the decaying fence. The dog looked floppy and old, its eyes covered by a mop of hair that bounced every time it barked.

“Donut. Down, girl.” Norton said loudly as he opened the gate, and Frederick looked at him, a little bit flabbergasted.

He turned back to check they were still following, not looking particularly embarrassed or bothered by Frederick’s gaze. “It’s fine, she doesn’t bite.”

“R-Right,” Frederick said, gently nudging Orpheus awake, who seemed just as surprised to find the dog sniffing at their legs. Her tail was wagging, and Frederick couldn’t help but crack a smile.

The dog followed them inside and curled up on a rug by the fireplace, having decided that there were no intruders. The place was surprisingly cozy, and Frederick began to wonder if this was really the frightening prospector they were looking for.

He helped Orpheus into a chair at the small dining table as Norton went into the kitchen to get them drinks. A few minutes later they all sat silently at the table, each with a cup of coffee, listening to the crackle of the fire.

“I’ll be honest,” Orpheus said, breaking the silence. “I wasn’t expecting the reunion of ours to be quite so… civil.”

Norton snorted into his mug, rolling his eyes a bit. “It’s been a long time. A lot changes in a couple centuries.”

He said it so casually it almost gave Frederick whiplash. “So you’ve just been living here? The whole time?”

“Not the whole time, but uh yeah. Most of it.” He grunted, not taking his eyes off Orpheus. “When I’ve been human, at least.”

“Ah, I’m uh- not sure if I should apologize, but-“

“Don’t bother. I’m over it.” He said, but Frederick had a feeling it wasn’t the whole truth. Not that it was any of his business, of course.

An awkward silence followed, like no one in the room was quite sure what to say next.

“Wasn’t easy.” Norton said after a while, poking at the ashes of their conversation. “…Fighting to stay human, I mean.”

“I thought you were cured,” Orpheus replied, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Yeah, still took work though.” He grumbled, sipping from his drink. “Relapses and all that. Sort of like what just happened with you.”

“I…” Orpheus frowned down at his own drink, looking particularly troubled. “So the cure doesn’t get rid of it completely, then.”

“Even if it did, I’m not sure it’d even work on you.”

Frederick looked at him. “What? Why not?”

Norton shrugged. “I don’t know too much about it. I just know that you’re the source, so she said the same rules probably wouldn’t apply to you.”

“She-“ Orpheus immediately jumped on his words. “You mean Alice? Is she still alive?”

Alice. That must have been his sister’s name. He’d mistaken Frederick for her, which he supposed made sense if he’d been lost in his returning memories. It tugged at his heart that she might have been the last person to try and reach out to him like that, the last person who’d been kind to him. It only made him more determined to see this through, to make sure they were reunited again.

Norton blinked in surprise, his expression turning skeptical. “…Why?”

“He’s lost a lot of his memories,” Frederick explained, grabbing his hand under the table. “…Though I’m not really sure how much he remembers now.”

“It’s-“ Orpheus sighed, rubbing his temple. “I just want to know if she’s alright.”

“She’s fine. Last I saw, anyways.”

Frederick let out a breath of relief, glad the universe had given them this one reprieve. Orpheus also relaxed considerably, leaning back in his chair and taking a deep breath, head tilted back to face the ceiling.

“…Guess you wouldn’t really know.” Norton seemed to realize, thinking to himself. “I’m surprised her little experiment actually worked. Somewhat, at least.”

“Sorry?”

“She put you in that well.” He said simply. “I remember when she told me about it I was absolutely livid. Always thought she was too soft on you.”

“She… really has been.” Orpheus said quietly, chewing on his bottom lip. “She should have killed me, for what I did.”

“At least you’re self aware, I guess.” Norton snorted, tipping back the last of his drink. “Surprised you’ve managed to avoid her this long, thought she had some lackeys stationed watching over you or something.”

“I- Oh my god.”

Frederick suddenly came to a very embarrassing realization. The Order of the Nightingale had probably been the ones watching over the well. Eli, Patricia, and Fiona. The same people they’d fled town from likely could have helped them find Alice much faster, and had probably only been trying to help.

“What?” Orpheus asked, looking confused.

“The library staff.” He groaned into his hands as he covered his face. “They weren’t trying to chase you, they- god I’m such an idiot.”

“Oh. Ah, well I suppose we did encounter them, I guess. We sort of just… ran away, I guess.”

At this, Norton burst out into a wheezy laughter. “Are you serious? You managed to give them the fucking slip? That’s- that’s fucking golden.”

“I’m so sorry.” Frederick grumbled into his hands.

“It’s fine,” Orpheus chuckled, placing a hand on his leg. “You didn’t know.”

“No, we could’ve figured this out so much sooner.” He whined, realizing that they hadn’t even needed to leave town to find what they’d been looking for.

Norton seemed to recover from his laughing fit, looking a little bit confused. “What? I thought you hated those goons.”

Frederick looked up, and was surprised to see that wasn’t talking to Orpheus, but him. “Wh- The Order?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised you actually managed to find him after everything they did to keep it a secret, not even I knew where he was.” He said, and Frederick suddenly wondered if he was having some sort of stroke. “Props to you for keeping at it, I guess. Thought you’d given up already.”

“I- …what?”

Norton looked at him like everything he was saying made perfect sense, but seemed to realize that Frederick seemed completely lost, and he sat up with a frown.

“What, have you got memory problems too or something?”

Frederick opened his mouth to ask what the hell he was talking about, only to be interrupted by Donut’s loud and angry barking as the dog leapt up from where she was lying and barrelled over to one of the windows, jumping up on her hind legs, looking alert and alarmed by something.

Norton immediately got up and walked over to glance through the window, clearly trusting the dog’s intuition, which put Frederick on edge. She dropped down from the window, instead moving to the front door, giving a low growl like someone was there, just on the other side.

All three of them were frozen now, still as statues as they listened for any noise outside, and Frederick nearly leapt out of his own skin as Norton suddenly vaulted over the table to quickly lock the door. He quickly moved to close the blinds as well, shushing the old dog and not moving his gaze from the front door.

“Get down,” He whispered, and Orpheus wasted no time pulling him under the table as Norton quietly rushed over to douse the fire.

He grabbed a shotgun off the mantel and crouched down as well, and they all sat and waited, expecting any kind of sound. A shadow passed one of the windows, and there was definitely the sound of someone moving around just outside, and Frederick could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

None of them dared even blink until the footsteps seemed to fade away, and even long after that. Donut began to whimper, and Norton reached out a hand to pet her soothingly.

“Shh.”

The silence drew on, no new sound coming from outside the cabin.

“…Is it gone?” Frederick whispered, only for Norton to shush him.

You could have heard a pin drop in the moment that followed, so when a loud thud came from the ceiling, Frederick nearly screamed, only saved by Orpheus clapping a hand over his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut to keep himself from crying, shaking in Orpheus’ arms.

The sound of footsteps was coming from above them, dust trickling down from the rafters with each heavy step that rung into the cabin’s silence.

There was something on the roof, and it sounded much bigger than any man.

Notes:

Yeah I gave norton a dog. It’s his therapy dog

Not entirely sure if I’m happy with this chapter, as I never am when I first post it, but I hope y’all enjoy! also sorry nightmare enjoyers for the tease. I will write more of him at some point I promise

Chapter 8: VIII

Summary:

Bit of a shorter chapter! Sorry If any of this feels a bit rushed, pacing wise I mean, I try my best but writing some stuff really seems to drag on sometimes. Again, skip the trigger warnings if you don’t want spoilers!

ALSO I can’t believe I’ve never mentioned this but you can go follow me on @ferrymansam on twitter if you want update posts and to look at my art! I have a cover for this fic over there if you wanna go see it

(TW: Animal bite (?), Venomous bite wound, Blood, Slight body horror, Mentions of gaslighting, Mentions of emotional abuse, Choking (not in a sexy way)

The ceiling creaked slightly, but the sound of footsteps had suddenly stopped, leaving the three of them in a dreadful silence. The room was dark, only illuminated by the slivers of moonlight that peeked through the blinds, but Orpheus could see Norton’s silhouette in the dark, quietly creeping over to the last spot where dust had fallen from above, pointing his shotgun straight up.

He didn’t get a chance to shoot before a clawed and scaly hand smashed through the window behind him, blindly grabbing and narrowly missing Norton’s head. Frederick screamed, and Orpheus pulled him out from underneath the table as Norton turned around and began firing shots out the window.

“Out, get out!” He ordered, reloading the weapon as Donut barked loudly, seeming to have reached her limit.

While it was hard to see, Orpheus could remember the direction of the back door and could see light peeking in through the door’s window. He slammed into it, frantically feeling for the lock, and as soon as it was turned, the two of them burst through the door, running back into the embrace of the dark woods.

He could hear gunshots and more barking behind them, and he silently cursed realizing Norton must have followed them out the door. Not that he wanted Norton or his dog to die of course, but if they were running in the same direction, then whatever was chasing them would be following close behind.

He kept his radar sharp for any beasts that might jump out of the brush, but it seemed like there was only one for tonight, or perhaps the other were further behind. Whatever was chasing them was quick, leaping through the trees with ease, but luckily the foliage was thick, making it very easy to stay out of sight.

There was a flash of light and a loud bang as Norton fired the shotgun again, followed by a loud crash, though Orpheus didn’t stop to check what it was. He could only hope the monster had fallen, buying them more time to escape.

They ran as hard as they could until the adrenaline began to wear off, until Orpheus could hear Frederick’s lungs practically giving out as he stumbled behind him, wheezing and gasping for air. They weren’t out of the woods, figuratively or literally, but the sounds he was making made Orpheus worry that he might stop breathing altogether.

He gasped and choked for air, nearly falling to his knees before Orpheus caught him, managing to keep him upright. He was shaking and looked quite close to passing out, but through his laboured breaths he tried his best to get out a word.

“-Hand!” He wheezed, and Orpheus looked at him in alarm, not understanding what was wrong. “My hand-“

He looked down at where he was holding Frederick’s hand, and only then realized that he was holding it so tightly he was crushing it in his own. He let go with a gasp as though he’d been burned, but Frederick still needed support, stumbling with him and grasping onto his shirt.

“Shit- I’m sorry,” Orpheus muttered apologetically, taking his hand again, this time more gently, to see if he’d caused any lasting damage somehow.

It was hard to see in the dark, but his bones seemed to be intact, even though Frederick winced as Orpheus ran his thumb over the spot he’d been squeezing. “God, I’m so sorry-“

“It’s fine,” Frederick gasped, finally gaining his balance and standing up straight. “Really, I’m-“

He was interrupted by Donut barking as she bounded towards them, jumping up and circling around them like they were a pair of lost sheep.

“Shh!” Orpheus hissed, hoping the dog wouldn’t give away their position, but it didn’t seem like they were being chased anymore, as far as he could tell. “Quiet! Where-“

He looked around, but again was only met with dark woods in every direction. “Where’s Norton?”

Rustling came from behind them, and Orpheus quickly put Frederick behind him, only for the prospector to come stumbling out of the bushes, though Orpheus could very distinctly pick up the scent of blood.

Donut immediately bounded up to her owner, sniffing worriedly, and Norton gave her lazy pat, before Orpheus realized he was clutching his forearm.

“What happened?” Frederick gasped, still catching his breath. “Are you okay?”

There was a metallic click as a lighter flicked on, offering a little bit of light for them to get a better look at Norton’s wound.

“Hah, shit…” He wheezed, and Orpheus quickly could see why.

There was a large bite mark on his arm, and it looked to be from something venomous, though he wasn’t quite sure what kind of animal that large had a venomous bite. It looked more like a bite from a mountain lion than a snake, but purple venom could very clearly be seen pulsing through the man’s veins, making his arm seize and swell up.

“God damn it.” He cussed through gritted teeth, squeezing his upper arm in an attempt to slow the spread of the venom.

“Shit- what do we do!?” Frederick whispered loudly, hands hovering, intending to help in any way possible.

“S’fine, it’s not fatal-“ He grunted, before letting out a pained noise, his arm suddenly growing abnormally, the sickening sound of snapping bones coming from under his skin. “Fuck! It just- had to be him, huh?”

Donut whimpered softly, and he tried his best to push her away as gently as he could. “You all need to get out of here, right now.”

“You’re reverting,” Orpheus realized, eyes widening in surprise. “How?- Why?”

“Not the time!” Norton snapped, before shaking his head, trying his best to keep calm. “You need to go-“ He said, shoving a compass into Orpheus’ hand.

“Straight East, there’s a city- you should find a road after a few miles, just keep following it. Take Donut with you, please.”

“We’re not going to just leave you here!” Frederick exclaimed, looking absolutely horrified by the situation.

Norton let out an exhausted laugh that might have also been a horrible sounding cough. “I’ll be fine- ‘sides, someone needs to throw those assholes off your trail. Look for a woman named Melly Plinius, real pretentious, always hides her face…”

“Are you sure about this?” Orpheus asked, similarly disturbed by what he was seeing.

The Norton he’d known would never have lifted a finger to help anyone if they hadn’t offered to pay him first. He was selfish, it was simply a part of who he was, for the better or the worse. Had so much time really passed that he’d become a completely different person?

“I’m making a real risky bet here,” He laughed tiredly, sounding more like the Norton he knew. “I’m counting on you assholes, so you better deliver.”

Orpheus didn’t have the time to ask or decipher what he meant by that, but he could only assume that somehow Norton would profit off all of this once everything was said and done. Or perhaps he was too proud to admit he wanted to help.

He grabbed Frederick’s hand, and they began running again, a sad but smart sheepdog running at their heels. They heard a loud and monstrous roar of pain echo through the woods behind them, but after that, that was the last they saw of him.

Running slowed to walking, and after what felt like an hour, Orpheus was starting to feel the exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“What do we do now?” Fredrick asked him as they came to a stop, and Orpheus looked around, but there was nothing but lush forest shrouded in darkness. He stood there for a while, at a complete loss at how to proceed.

“I don’t know,” He panted. “I-“

He stopped himself as he saw something at the corner of his vision, a flicker of light between the trees.

The moment he turned to look at it, it seemed to vanish, and he simply stared into the woods, waiting for it to happen again.

“…Did you see that?” Orpheus asked, listening carefully, but only hearing Donut’s loud panting and the pounding of his own heartbeat.

“See what?”

Without a second thought, he began trudging towards where he’d last seen it, Frederick calling after him.

He saw it again, a golden light that quickly disappeared out of sight, like a tiny flame, leaving nothing but its fading light behind.

Without thinking he followed it, afraid that if he looked away for even a second he might miss it, stumbling through bushes as he kept his gaze forwards. There was something familiar about it, almost like he’d somehow seen it before.

A little girl’s laughter seemed to echo throughout his mind, ringing like bells, and were he not so focused on chasing the light, it might have brought him to tears.

For a moment, it vanished completely, and his heart sank. He stumbled through the dark, turning all the way around in an attempt to catch even a glimpse of it.

“Orpheus- what are you doing!?” Frederick hissed, tearing through the overgrowth behind him.

Orpheus didn’t want to ignore him, but the light caught his attention again, dancing like a golden little fairy, singing for him to follow as it wove between the trees. It was warm, and so achingly familiar that he couldn’t help but chase after it. It could have been a trick, and he wouldn’t have even cared, just to feel that warmth for even just a moment more.

He came to an abrupt halt as the light vanished into a thick bramble wall, nearly leading him into it, face first. He stepped back and blinked in surprise, realizing how large it was. Frederick caught up to him with Donut at his heels, and also seemed to notice the strange formation of the plants. It was shaped more like a wall one might have made out of stone, but instead, made up completely of tightly packed thorns.

“What on earth…?” He whispered.

The bramble wall towered a good few feet above them, and stretched out as far as they could see on either side, though their sight was admittedly pretty limited with how dark it was. Orpheus caught a glimpse of the light between the gnarled overgrowth, and cursed quietly to himself, feeling drawn to follow it.

“We need to get through somehow,” He muttered to himself, but none of the tree’s branches looked sturdy enough to climb in an attempt to get over.

“Why? What-“ Frederick sighed, sounding somewhat frustrated with him. “What’s going on right now?”

“Didn’t you see that light?” He said, turning to him with a furrowed brow.

“What light? What are you talking about?”

Orpheus blinked. Frederick hadn’t seen anything. Was he going mad? No, otherwise it wouldn’t have led them anywhere- and he’d definitely seen something, he knew he did.

But Frederick couldn’t see it, why?

He turned back to the dark bramble, and after staring intently at it for a while, realized that it was moving, ever so slightly. Not from the wind, but it seemed to be receding away from him, like it was welcoming him to walk forwards.

He reached out a hand to test his theory, and flinched back in surprise when it seemed to curl away from him. The effect definitely seemed to be enchanted, though he couldn’t imagine why something like this would even be here.

“That is… definitely not like any plant I’ve ever seen.” Frederick said breathlessly from beside him.

Reaching his hand further this time, the brambles parted almost like a curtain, not a single thorn grazing his skin. He glanced back briefly, grabbing Frederick’s hand, Donut seeming to be perfectly at ease with this situation, for whatever reason.

He began walking forward and he heard Frederick gasp softly, clutching his arm, like if he strayed too far the plants might grab him and pull him away. They didn’t, however, instead giving the three of them a wide berth, slowly weaving itself shut behind them.

“Orpheus,” He murmured anxiously, almost like he was afraid the plants could hear him.

“It’s alright.” He replied, feeling surprisingly calm. This almost felt like something he might have done before, a long time ago. He gave Frederick’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

Light peeked through the receding thorns ahead, and as they fully exited the wall, it opened to reveal a breathtakingly luscious garden, illuminated by fireflies and moonlight.

Scattered about the garden were various marble statues, some completely crumbled by time, others swallowed by moss and ivy. It felt like walking into a dream, a place completely forgotten by the outside world. He glanced over at Frederick, and smiled at the starstruck look on his face, the light dancing in his eyes.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” He whispered, but Orpheus couldn’t look away, completely transfixed on the man standing beside him instead.

“…It is, isn’t it?” Orpheus smiled softly.

“It’s warm here too,” Frederick said, and Orpheus finally looked away, realizing that he was right. It was warmer. “We could probably stay here for tonight.”

“If we can find a comfortable place to rest, that is.”

“A-Ah, yes. Fair point.”

Donut had already trotted off, lapping up water from a small creek like she’d been here before. Perhaps Norton knew about this place, which he supposed wouldn’t be too far fetched now that he thought about it. Maybe he’d sent them in this direction for a reason.

They gradually wandered around until they found a nice spot, a grassy glade dotted with colourful wildflowers. Orpheus noted that the long grass was surprisingly soft and plush as he sat down, sitting against a large rock, breathing in the clear air around them.

Frederick sat down next to him, watching Donut wander around aimlessly, before settling under an old bird bath, curling up with a huff.

“She looks sad,” He commented, sounding a bit down himself. “…I hope he’ll be alright. Norton, I mean.”

“…I think he’ll be okay.” Orpheus said, resting his head back against the rock, which wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world. “He’s pretty tough.”

If anything, Norton was a survivor. He knew the man had crawled his way out of the depths of hell before already, and he had the scars to prove it. Orpheus had seen the monster he’d made of that man, and if anyone could come back from that a second time, it would be him. He wondered how long it had taken Norton to come back to himself, after he’d been cured. Could he ever come back, if the same ever happened to him?

He doubted it, considering what Norton had said about the cure. It just meant he had to be careful from now on, so extremely careful not to let his temper get the better of him. He wondered how long he would last.

“…How much do you remember?” Frederick asked him quietly, and Orpheus looked at him.

“About Norton?”

“No, about everything.”

He paused for a minute, realizing he wasn’t entirely sure. Would there be a moment when he knew he’d remembered everything? He certainly remembered a lot more than he did before, making him feel further and further from the person who’d woken up in Frederick’s cottage, but there were still some things missing.

“I remember… a lot.” He admitted, not meeting Frederick’s eyes. “Not everything, through.”

“Are you sure you’re telling the truth?”

Orpheus turned to look at him, surprised, and Frederick quickly looked away, cheeks flushed a bit red.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was doubting you, I just-“ He bit his lip, chewing it nervously. “…I’m worried about you. I- I’m worried- it feels a bit like you’re sort of… outgrowing me. Whatever you decide to do, it’s going to change the world, Orpheus. You’re so important, and I’m just… me.”

Orpheus reached over and grabbed his hand. “You’re important too, you know.”

Frederick let out a snort, raising an eyebrow. “Really? I’m just a man. I can’t make magic or change the world, I’m-“

“You’re important to me.”

He blinked, looking a bit stunned.

“It’s true,” Orpheus insisted, making sure to look him in the eyes so he knew that it was genuine. “You’re very important to me, Frederick, in a way I can’t quite find the words to describe.”

“That’s-“ He cut himself off, looking quite lost for words himself. The perplexed look on his face made Orpheus’ heart ache terribly, because he wanted Frederick so desperately to understand. He wanted him to understand something that seemed impossible to explain.

“I need you to understand,” He spoke, making an attempt regardless of how impossible it seemed. “When I saw that man’s blood on my hands, I remembered so many horrible things. It was like the world had shattered into a million tiny pieces, and It truly felt like humanity was beyond fixing.”

He remembered the anger, the hate. The utter disappointment in the same betrayals, tragedies, and massacres occurring over and over again, people never learning from their pasts. The desire to just get rid of it all, and start with a blank slate. Seeing humans as pests instead of people.

“…Then there was you.” He whispered, his lip trembling. “You were so kind to me, for no reason at all. Even when you learned what I was, you still wanted to help me, even if it cost you everything.”

Frederick squeezed his hand. “Don’t give me too much credit,” He laughed. “It’s not like I really had a lot to lose.”

“Still. You could have left me there. Anywhere, really.”

The musician pursed his lips, falling silent.

“I just… I suppose I know what it’s like, to feel like you’re completely alone in this world.” He said quietly, intertwining their fingers. “…Like you aren’t wanted. -Did you know? It’s funny almost- we almost never would have met.”

Orpheus looked over at him, and saw tears caught in his long white lashes. “What do you mean?”

“After the incident, I was in the hospital for a while.” He explained, and while Orpheus wanted to ask questions, he had a feeling simply listening would give him his answers. “I wasn’t in too great of a state. Physically, the damage wasn’t too bad, but mentally… Well, to make a long story short, my family tried to put me in the care of an asylum. Indefinitely.”

“Oh- Frederick…” Orpheus said softly as the man’s voice tightened and he began choking on his own emotions.

“I tried so hard to convince the doctors I was sane. Everyone who spoke on my behalf treated me like a storm they’d been afraid of addressing, and not one person came to my defense. After a while, I almost started to believe them.”

He let out a sob, and Orpheus pulled him close, holding his hand tightly.

“-But I didn’t. I kept on going.” He sniffed, leaning his head on Orpheus’ shoulder. “I’m not even sure why. Maybe it was simply me being stubborn. But I’m glad I did, god- I’m so glad I did. I’m so glad I got to meet you.”

Orpheus grabbed a hold of the man’s face, gently wiping the tears from his wet cheeks, Frederick leaning into his touch like a starving dog, and the sight made him feel like someone had sewn barbed wire through his chest and into his heart, and if anyone tried to remove it they’d only do more damage than good.

The world had been cruel, and yet he was still kind. For this, the pain was worth it. He was an exception, an impossibility, and yet here he still was, an attempt to break the cycle. Orpheus didn’t know if there was anyone out there like him, and frankly, for the moment, he didn’t care. All that mattered was that he was here, and Orpheus would give up the world to keep it that way.

Orpheus cradled the man’s face in his hands and closely observed every beautiful detail about him, making an attempt to burn it into his memory to keep like a locket forever. Even with his eyes all red and puffy from tears, he was mesmerizing to look at. He was so flawed, so beautiful, so human.

Their faces were inches apart, and he felt Frederick’s breath hitch as he seemed to realize this, his face turning a bit red. He felt him swallow nervously as Orpheus gently tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, his finger brushing against the man’s fluttering pulse.

Without thinking, Orpheus kissed him.

Their lips met, and Frederick made a surprised sound, which quickly melted into a soft groan as he grasped the fabric of Orpheus’ shirt, pulling him closer. The warmth was overwhelming, intoxicating almost, the feeling of Frederick’s lips on his own nearly enough to drive him mad.

After a long moment, the composer suddenly pulled away with a gasp, panting heavily, his face not far from the colour of a beet.

“Sorry- are you alright…?” Orpheus rasped, a bit out of breath himself. “…You’re shaking.”

He seemed dazed, and it took him a moment to gather himself enough to say anything comprehensible. “I…” He gently brushed his lips with his own hand, seeming to be in utter disbelief. “You… kissed me.”

Orpheus paused for a moment, hoping he hadn’t done something he wasn’t supposed to. “…I did. …Are you upset with me?”

Frederick blinked, immediately shaking his head. “I- n-no! Of course not, I just- God, I feel a bit like I’m going to faint.” He laughed deliriously, placing a hand on his head.

Orpheus placed a hand on his shoulder, concerned, but Frederick just chuckled, leaning his head down and burying his nose in Orpheus’ shoulder, seemingly exhausted.

He smiled softly, setting him down on the soft bed of grass beneath them and lying down next to him. They might have bugs in their hair by the time they woke up, but he couldn’t imagine either of them caring right now.

“It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?” Orpheus said, and he didn’t miss the way Frederick immediately intertwined their fingers, squeezing his hand.

They both lay on their sides facing one another, the gentle and intimate sight of Frederick lying down beside him making Orpheus’ heart swell with joy.

“It has,” Frederick whispered, a relief in his eyes as he smiled warmly. “I think it’s been worth it though.”

“…We can’t stay here forever.”

His smile faded. “I know,” He sighed.

“So what happens when we wake up?”

“…I have somewhere we can go.” He said quietly, not looking particularly excited. “My- My family has an estate in town, the one we’re going to.”

“I-“ Orpheus frowned. “Would they even take us in?”

“Maybe not. But it’s worth a try, isn’t it?“

“Are you sure?”

“No, but it’s the best choice we have. We don’t have any money.”

Orpheus brought their intertwined hands up to press a kiss against the man’s pale knuckles. “…We can figure something else out.”

Frederick yawned. “Mmn… Can we decide in the morning? I’m tired.”

“Of course,” He whispered.

He lay there long after Frederick had fallen asleep, eyes drifting to the bruise on his pale hand.

The deep purple mark made his gut churn with guilt, though he knew Frederick would hardly care. The bruise itself wasn’t much, he knew that, but it represented something he was absolutely terrified of. Leaving him behind wasn’t an option, he knew that only chaos and death were left behind him, and while he could fight to protect him as hard as he could, what would happen if he couldn’t control himself?

His power was returning in a steady stream now, he could feel it trickling inside of him like a deadly poison. How long could he fight his own nature, he wondered? He’d keep trying, for Frederick, but a sad part of him knew that his fate was already sealed.

He wished he had more time. More time to make sure that Frederick was in good hands, and that he’d be happy. Truth be told, he didn’t quite want to meet Frederick’s family, knowing the way they treated him would only bring him more rage. But who else did he have in this world? Who would be there for him, if Orpheus wasn’t?

He sighed, finally closing his eyes. For now, he’d try to just enjoy the present. It was a beautiful night, and he had a feeling that they were completely safe, in this strange secret garden from his past.

. . .

When Orpheus opened his eyes, he was somewhere else.

Well, not somewhere completely different, he realized as he looked around. He was still in the garden, but now he stood in the middle, and it was as though several of the statues had reconstructed themselves. Warm sun beamed down from above, and he blinked, looking around for Frederick.

“Orpheus!”

Relief flooded his chest when he heard the man call his name, but the person who rounded the corner around the neatly trimmed hedges was slightly different as well.

He looked like Frederick, but instead of white, his hair was a pale and sandy brown. There was more colour to his face, and he didn’t look nearly as tired, and far more healthy. He was adorned with golden accessories and a lavish red coat, and had a confident glow about him that his own Frederick seemed to lack.

“There you are!” He sighed, looking worried. “I thought you might be here.”

Orpheus just blinked at him, trying to understand what was going on, before he suddenly realized that this was a memory. -But how was that possible? If this memory was from his past, then it would have taken place long before Frederick was even born.

“What do you want?” His own lips snapped, the malice behind his words surprising him. “I came here to be left alone.”

“Please, I’m worried about you.” Frederick pleaded with his past self, and despite the subtle changes, the familiarity of his words was definitely a giveaway, it was still him. “You’ve been acting strange ever since you started speaking with those birds, I don’t believe they’re a good influence on you.”

His past self let out a bark of cold laughter, sharply turning to face Frederick with a glare. “You speak of me like I’m a child. I’m not that pathetic, you know.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Frederick said, and the sadness in his eyes made Orpheus’ heart feel tight. “You know that.”

“Do I?” He spat, and Orpheus wanted nothing more than to shut his own mouth. “You’re all only upset because you can’t brush me aside anymore. Now that I have the power to express my opinions, I’ve become a threat.”

“I-“ Frederick looked distraught. “You don’t actually think all of that, do you? Orpheus, no one needs to get hurt-“

“They will regardless!” He shouted, and Frederick flinched. “Don’t speak down to me as though you’re all high and mighty. What would you be without that power she gave you?”

He could see the way his words viscerally wounded the man before him, and desperately wanted to stop, but he knew this was a memory, and it couldn’t be changed.

“That’s right, you’d be like me.” He sneered, holding his arm out for a raven to come perch. “-How I was, anyway. Pitiful. Pathetic.”

“Orpheus, stop it.” Frederick said, his voice trembling.

“-Or what?” Orpheus’ past self snorted. “Do you think you can fight me?”

“I’m not your enemy, Orpheus.” He pleaded, tears in his eyes. “I’m not going to fight you, I’m never going to fight you.”

His past self seemed to falter, seeming now to be a bit unsure. There was a connection here, one he had a feeling had been quite strong once upon a time. His past self didn’t feel nothing for this different version of Frederick, though there was a tear between them that grew larger by the second.

“Either you’re with my cause, or you’re against it.” He decided, his face hardening as he pushed aside his feelings.

“What- you want me to help you kill people!?”

His past self stepped forwards, grabbing Frederick’s hand and holding it softly between them. “If guilt is the issue, I can help you be rid of it. We can save this world, together.”

Frederick tore his hand out of his grasp, a horrified expression on his face.“Are you even hearing yourself? How would destroying the world save it!?”

All softness in Orpheus’ gaze vanished, replaced with cold, hard hatred.

“You’re just like the rest of them. I can’t believe I thought you might be any different.”

Orpheus suddenly felt himself ejected from his own body, now viewing the scene from a third person perspective. This person was no longer him, not anymore.

The man in the white suit turned away and began to leave, but Frederick chased after him, catching him by the wrist.

“Orpheus, wait-“ His voice cracked.

Orpheus cried out in alarm as the man wearing his body roughly seized Frederick by the throat, ebony feathers sprouting from his collar and up his neck. Of course, he couldn’t be heard- he couldn’t even move. He could only watch in terror as the half transformed figure held Frederick up off the ground, as he desperately grasped at the hand squeezing his neck, choking.

“Go ahead, ‘Composer,’ sing a note sharp enough to split my skull in two.” The nightmare growled, a violence in his eyes that made Orpheus scream out, begging for him to stop. “I know you can. Fight back, or it’s your life that will come to an end.”

“No,” Frederick wheezed, tears spilling from his eyes as his face began to turn red. “I won’t-“

“Fight back!” It roared, more feathers sprouting from his fury. “Fight back or I’ll take it from you!”

Frederick let out a strangled sob, but made no move to struggle or defend himself, his feet dangling above the ground and his face getting redder by the second.

The garden suddenly grew dark, an artificial shadow swallowing up the light from above, blotting out the sun. Orpheus looked around and watched plants wither and wilt from the shadows’ touch, and a glowing golden light seemed to seep out of Frederick’s veins and into the sickly looking clawed hand holding him.

His face was nearly purple now, and he began to fall limp, tears still falling from unfocused eyes.

“Stop it, you’re killing him!” Orpheus shrieked in panic, but his voice seemed stolen by the wind, not even reaching their ears.

Frederick weakly lifted up a hand to place on the nightmare’s arm, a last ditch effort to convince him to stop, looking at him with a pleading gaze.

“Orpheus,” Was all he whispered, and the man dropped him immediately.

He collapsed onto the cobblestone path, choking and coughing, gasping for air and trembling like a leaf. Some of the coughs came out as sobs, and Orpheus wanted so desperately to run to him, to make sure he was alright, but again he couldn’t move.

Instead, he looked at his past self, wondering what had changed his mind, and saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes before he quickly turned away, taking a deep breath as the feathers began to recede.

“…Don’t make an attempt to follow me again.” He said sharply, a final warning.

He began walking away, and as he did, he was swallowed up by a storm of black wings, which quickly consumed everything around Orpheus, including the ground beneath his feet. He began falling through darkness, the ravens’ screams drowning out his own. It felt a bit like he had been dropped from the top of a tall building, only he couldn’t see the ground or when he’d meet it. He couldn’t see anything, really.

Right when he felt like he was going to hit the bottom of the void, he woke with a start, letting out a gasp, his heart pounding.

He was simultaneously confused by and grounded by the warmth of another body curled up against him, and as he rapidly blinked the sleep from his eyes, he realized it was Frederick. The man had hardly stirred from Orpheus’ waking, burying his nose into Orpheus’ cotton shirt, letting out a sigh of contentment, cuddling against him, and completely unharmed.

Orpheus sighed in relief, letting his shoulders relax a little, not wanting to be an uncomfortable pillow. He ever so gently brushed some ivory hair out of the man’s face, noticing he had a few moles the Frederick in his dream had lacked.

He frowned, laying his head back down on the grass. That dream had been a memory, he was sure of it, but how could both of them exist? The Frederick fast asleep against him was completely mortal, there was no doubt about it, so what was he missing? Was this something Alice had done while he’d been sealed away? Why?

This Frederick hadn’t known him prior to rescuing him from the well, had lived a mortal life with a mortal family, so how could he be the same person Orpheus knew all that time ago? Had he remembered this before, he would have assumed Frederick to be some sort of descendant of the man he once knew, which he supposed was still possible, yet it didn’t explain the bond between them that he could feel in his very soul.

He genuinely couldn’t tell, if they were different or the same people. He supposed at the end of the day, it didn’t change much. He was human now, and Orpheus wasn’t.

The sky was pale, but the sun hadn’t yet risen, so he stared up at the fading stars with a sigh. He supposed he should wake him soon, as much as he wanted to lie here forever. As nice as it was, staying forever wasn’t an option. The things that were looking for him would find a way inside eventually.

He needed to get Frederick somewhere safe, in the hands of people who’d be able to protect him from what Orpheus was going to become.

Notes:

I’m sorry if the lore is confusing at all, it’ll make sense eventually I promise <3

You can follow me on @ferrymansam over on twitter is you want update posts.

Again, posting this very late, but I’ve gone over it about as many times as I can, so I hope you enjoy!

EDIT: SORRy for everyone who read the chapter’s first version without paragraph break, for some reason google docs wouldn’t fucking copy them over and I had to re-input ALL of them manually. I hate google docs!

Chapter 9: IX

Summary:

WE’RE IN THE FINAL STRETCH BOYS! The love for this fic has honestly blown me away. I’ve never made a complete story from start to finish before, not to this scale, anyways. Your support and viewership has made this all possible. Without it, I doubt I ever would have got this far.

If you ever want to send me fan content (I would actually cry /pos) you can find me over at @ferrymansam on both twitter and tumblr, and I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

(TW: Self-deprecating thoughts, mental breakdowns, slight blood)

Frederick could hear that song again, the one from his dreams. It was faint and fading, which is how he could tell he was waking up, but another sweet melody seemed to take it’s place. It was a birdsong, something simple- yet at the same time, so timelessly beautiful.

He wondered if birds ever felt uncertain about what they should sing. Did they feel that same paralyzing dread of the silence that came instead? Did they ever feel like their song was inadequate? He couldn’t imagine so, considering it was more of a method of communication for them. At least, that’s the impression he was under. Truth be told, he didn’t actually know a lot about birds. Maybe he could ask Orpheus.

Is that what music inherently was? A method of communication? Perhaps that’s why he’d always been so dreadful at it. How could he ever hope to communicate what was in his heart, if he couldn’t even tell what he was feeling? He knew how he felt now, of course, conveniently when there was no time to think of writing songs.

What kind of symphony would he write, with everything that had happened in mind? He could practically hear the torrent of emotions that churned inside his chest, replacing the emptiness that had once been there. An inspiration he’d been so desperate for in the past, but now that he had it, it didn’t seem as important anymore.

The bird’s sweet song continued, and still half asleep, he made a clumsy attempt to hum along with it. He wasn’t matching all of the notes, but he found he didn’t particularly care.

“Frederick?” The world below him seemed to shift, and as he blinked open heavy eyelids, he saw Orpheus’ face in the pale morning light.

“Mm?” He hummed tiredly, blinking slowly as the man let out a soft chuckle.

“You’re awake,” Orpheus observed, his voice hoarse and gravely from sleep. “Good morning.”

Frederick sat up, rubbing his eyes and inhaling deeply. It was a bit cooler, and he was quite tempted to curl up back with Orpheus on the soft grass, but he shook his head, knowing it wasn’t an option.

“What time is it?” He asked, his words slurring together a bit.

“No clue, but we should probably get moving soon.”

He heard the bird’s song again, vaguely reminding him he’d wanted to ask Orpheus something about birds, but he couldn’t quite remember what it had been.

“What bird is that?” He mumbled tiredly, knowing it wasn’t quite right but still saying it instead.

“The one singing?” Orpheus asked, looking somewhere out into the garden. “It’s a nightingale.”

Frederick’s eyes widened and he looked around, trying to catch a glimpse.

“Not the one you’re thinking of.” Orpheus chuckled, and he felt heat rise to his face.

“S-Sorry, I haven’t got the best grasp on what is and isn’t possible these days.” He grumbled, putting a hand on his face.

Orpheus laughed. “That’s completely understandable. I can’t say I’m very certain either, at least not- …never mind.” He said, his smile fading.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no, sorry- I just… it’s the memories. It’s hard to keep track of it all.” He sighed, looking exhausted in a way sleep couldn’t hope to repair. “I’m feeling less like myself, yet I don’t even know who that’s supposed to be.”

Frederick stepped forwards, placing two hands on each of Orpheus’ shoulders, startling the man out of the dissociative state Frederick could quickly tell he was headed towards.

“You’re Orpheus.” He said, putting a firmness behind his words that he hoped might bring him comfort. “You love watching birds from the window when you’re eating breakfast.”

Orpheus just blinked at him, confused, so he continued.

“You love reading mystery novels, and oftentimes you’ll predict the ending before you’ve even finished, because you’re so clever. You’re so observant that you notice things most people wouldn’t have remembered, and it makes me wonder all the details you see in the world around you.”

His gaze softened, but Frederick didn’t feel like stopping.

“-And you’re incredibly stubborn!” He added, making Orpheus snort. “You’ll never admit when you need help, even if you were on death’s door! You think it wise to carry every burden by yourself, even if in the long run it would be better to share. Like how you won’t admit you don’t like green peppers in your salad.”

His last comment seemed to break the man completely, his shoulders shaking with laughter, a smile on his face so wide he thought he might cry.

“What? It’s true. I wouldn’t have had to throw them away if I’d known not to use them in the first place.”

“Wh- I still ate them!” Orpheus laughed, giving him a playful shove.

“You ate some of them.” Frederick correctly wryly, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Despicable.”

“Alright, Alight, I get it, I’ll stop moping.” He chuckled.

“Good. I much prefer it when you’re happy.”

He stepped forwards, brushing his knuckles against the side of the man’s face, scratchy with stubble, but warm. Orpheus leaned in and gave him a soft peck on his lips, making his heart bloom like a bush of roses, full and red.

He couldn’t help the fluttery feeling it gave him, and he giggled as Orpheus pressed more butterfly kissed across his face, wrapping his arms around Frederick’s waist and pulling him closer.

He’d kissed women before, but that didn’t even compare to the feeling this stirred in his gut. He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face, which felt warmer than it had ever been in his whole life, though not enough to burn.

“Orpheus!-“ He laughed, blushing enough to make himself feel like he was floating.

He melted softly as Orpheus captured his lips in another kiss, humming in contentment as he closed his eyes. He could hear his own heartbeat in the back of his skull, and in the back of his mind, he dimly realized what a powerful grip this feeling had on him. Perhaps it should’ve alarmed him more, knowing what Orpheus was, but any sort of worry was immediately clouded by his own adoration.

Frederick was pulled back down to the ground by the sound of Donut barking, who was jumping up at their legs. He laughed, feeling a bit drunk on Orpheus’ affection as they pulled apart to look down at the dog.

“…I suppose we should probably get moving.” Orpheus said, waiting for him to catch his breath.

“I… yes, you’re right.” He sighed, looking out on the garden. “It’s a shame, it really is quite beautiful here. You think we’ll ever be back?”

Orpheus’ smile faded, a wistful look appearing in his eyes as he also gazed upon the lush sanctuary. “…I’m not sure. I’d like to remember this though. I’m quite sad I lost the journal you gave me, if only I still had it I could write all of this down.”

“You lost it?” Frederick asked, before remembering that really they’d lost just about everything but the clothes on their backs. “Ah, right, it was in the suitcase, wasn’t it? I didn’t see it when I was grabbing you one of my shirts.”

“If I’d remembered sooner we might have been able to go back for it, though I think that opportunity has long since passed. …I’m sorry, I should have held on to it better.” Orpheus mumbled, looking quite disappointed in himself, making Frederick chuckle a bit in surprise.

“It’s alright, it’s just a journal.” He said, grabbing Orpheus’ hand. “We can always just get you another one.”

“But I won’t remember what I wrote.”

“I’ve been here the whole time you’ve had it, haven’t I? I can tell it all back to you, if you’d like.” Frederick smiled, raising an eyebrow. “At least what I can remember.”

“No, it’s-“ Orpheus sighed. “It’s less about the memory thing, if I’m being honest. It was just important to me, that’s all. Because you gave it to me.”

“Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

“Well I can always give you another, can’t I? Better to focus on the present rather than the past, don’t you think?”

Orpheus smiled at him softly, glancing back at the garden one last time.

“…Yes. Yes, I think you’re right.”

. . .

Walking through the woods when it wasn’t the dead of night was significantly less dreadful, but Frederick still tried his best to keep and eye out for any strange figures between the trees. The only things he seemed to spot were deer, looking at him with big black eyes, filled with a skittishness he felt quite familiar with himself these days, before they bounded off back into the brush.

In one hand Orpheus held the compass, the other never letting go of Frederick’s, leading them through the forest, Donut trotting behind them.

Just as Norton had said, they came upon an old road that eventually led them into town. It felt almost surreal, to see people walking about and going about their daily lives, bustling about like there was nothing the matter.

They got quite a few looks, filthy as they were, though for once Frederick found he didn’t really mind. Now was his turn to lead Orpheus, squinting at street signs and trying to find some place he might recognize, though it had been quite some time since he’d been here last.

A few people seemed to recognize him, but thankfully held their tongues and kept walking, likely mistaking him for some sort of homeless madman that had crawled his way out of the gutter. He was tempted to ask for directions, but approaching anyone seemed out of the question.

As they got further into the city and the sidewalks became more crowded, they became less of a concern to most people passing by. His goal was to get to an upper class neighbourhood somehow, but they had no money for to take the tram, and Frederick could sooner see them getting arrested than making it to the Kreiburg estate.

“We need to find some place to clean up,” He sighed, looking around. “I really wish I still had my wallet right now.”

“You have any acquaintances who might be willing to help?” Orpheus asked, and he tried his best to think.

If there had been anyone to beg for pity from before, they’d now likely forgotten him entirely. The only chance they had was if they somehow miraculously encountered one of Frederick’s relatives on the street, and hope they didn’t call the cops on them for harassment.

He groaned, rubbing his eyes, before trying to focus on the faces quickly passing by. They were near some sort of square, so he scanned the crowd as best he could. He had to do something of a double take when he saw a familiar looking face across the plaza from them.

“Is that… the museum curator?” He squinted, and he could feel Orpheus tense considerably.

“What? Where?”

“Over there. What on earth is he doing here?” Frederick mumbled, brow furrowed in confusion.

He caught the gentleman’s piercing blue eyes, and a shiver passed through his body. He hesitantly raised a hand to beckon to him, but Orpheus quickly grabbed it and pulled it down, yanking him through the crowd in the opposite direction.

“Wh- Orpheus?” He choked, following him, but thoroughly confused.

“He’s one of them.” Was all Orpheus said, and yet Frederick could feel his stomach sink with dread.

“What- you mean one of the monsters?”

“Yes. He looks human, but I promise you, he isn’t.”

Frederick’s heart began pounding. Is that how the monsters had found them in the first place? He’d always assumed they were simple drawn to Orpheus by some sort of invisible force, like Orpheus himself was some sort of beacon they were being pulled towards. Would they have been fine if Frederick had never brought him to the museum?

He didn’t get the chance to think about it further as he noticed a small commotion ahead of them as a barrel of a nearby stand seemed to be shaking violently. Out of if burst water like a broken fire hydrant, followed by the webbed fingers of a woman with gills, who pulled a fishing spear out along with her, as though the barrel was much deeper than it appeared.

Alarmed shouts and screams of fear tore through the crowd of people, fleeing as the woman who looked like she’d been fished from the bottom of a lake looked directly towards them, making Frederick’s blood run cold.

“Shit.” Orpheus muttered, grabbing Frederick and choosing another new direction to run in.

“God- They’re really going to do this now!? With all these people around!?” Frederick shouted as they fled, crying out in surprise as a nearby shopfront exploded.

He whipped his head around to look, and saw a rusty penguin shaped robot treading over the rubble, red eyes locking in on them. Thankfully most people seemed to have gotten out of the way, but the sight still flabbergasted him. Orpheus pulled him out of his stunned state by the arm, and again they were running with the crowd, which had gone to complete havoc and terror.

“The fear will make them stronger- I don’t think they intend on letting us get away this time.” Orpheus shouted, his voice nearly lost to all the noise.

“Oh, great!” Frederick said, his voice cracking. If fear made them stronger then he couldn’t imagine the power they must be getting from this mass hysteria. “That’s just great!”

Abruptly, Orpheus pulled a sharp turn into an alley, nearly yanking Frederick’s arm out of it’s socket. There was a loud clang as he nearly tripped over something, and he now had to focus on dodging the obstacles in their way.

“Where are we going!?”

“I don’t know, somewhere with less people! I don’t want them to start killing bystanders who get in the way!” Orpheus yelled, weaving through alleys and taking turns with no set destination in mind.

Frederick honestly hadn’t considered that. They’d brought danger into this city simply by being here, and where he always saw the monsters as shadows that avoided the light, he supposed they must be getting desperate. How many people would they hurt before they got what they wanted?

He shook the thought from his head, not wanting to think about it. Right now they needed to focus on getting somewhere safe themselves, or even out of the city. But where would that put them? Back in the woods, or even the open countryside? They’d be hunted down in minutes if the monsters could now chase them in broad daylight.

“There, that warehouse!” Orpheus gasped, pulling them towards a large and mostly abandoned looking building for cover.

It looked far from secure, but Frederick supposed it was better than nothing, and after running a good ways into the building they took a moment to catch their breath.

“Okay, what now?” He panted, hands on his knees. “What’s our plan of action here exactly?”

“I-“ Orpheus spun in a circle, looking a bit frantic. “I don’t know,” He wheezed, looking almost afraid. “We can’t keep just-“ he sighed in distress. “Frederick, you need to get out of here. Please.”

“-Sorry, what? Orpheus I’m not leaving y-“

“Please!” Orpheus yelled, his voice breaking with desperation, making Frederick fall into a stunned silence. “You need- You need to get out of this building. I’ll lead them away, they’re after me, not you, I-“

He was cut off by the sound of metallic crashing echoing from somewhere else in the warehouse, and he snapped his head towards the sound, standing absolutely still for a moment, before grabbing Frederick’s hand and continuing to run.

It was surprisingly dark in the warehouse, not a whole lot of light coming in through the foggy glass, and the old machinery they kept passing made shapes and silhouettes that made his heart launch into his throat each time he mistook it for a threat. His heart was hammering, and he hoped very dearly that all this stress wasn’t going to give him a heart attack.

They burst into a wide storage room, and Orpheus immediately ran over and began trying to pry open one of the old crates. Frederick ran to help him, and they managed to open one of the sides.

“Go, go, inside-“ Orpheus whispered, but the man didn’t crawl in after him, making Frederick’s stomach sink.

“Orpheus-“ He gasped, clutching the man’s arm as he crouched, halfway into the hiding spot they’d created.

He placed a hand on Frederick’s face, staring at it with wet eyes and a sad smile, like it was the last time he might see it.

“Stay here,” He whispered, and to Frederick it felt like the whole word was falling apart, agonizingly slow, and all he could do was watch, tears forming in his eyes. “Please.”

Another loud crash came, presumably one of the creatures breaking through the thin metal door, and while Frederick tried to scream out for him not to leave, only a choked up silence exited his lips, as he realized that Orpheus had already left. Tears completely swallowed his vision, and he covered his mouth in an attempt to stifle any noise, curling further into the crate as not to be seen.

It wasn’t a very good hiding spot. They’d managed to pry one of the sides off of it, but that side still lay on the floor, leaving it open. It was low enough to the ground that if you crouched down inside it, you would be out of a direct line of sight of anything running by. He watched shapes of various strange legs pass by with a hollow gaze, but his heart froze as a certain pair stopped to linger.

A familiar fog swirled around the man’s feet as he hummed jovially to himself. His voice sounded familiar, though its not like Frederick knew any of their names.

He tried to hold his breath, but there seemed to be so little left in his lungs, resulting in him ultimately hyperventilating as quiet as he could.

Five long, sharp blades curled over the top of the crate, and while he was backed up into it as far as he could, there was nothing that could hide him the disturbingly simple white mask that slowly appeared as the man bent down to look inside. Without really thinking, Frederick brought his leg up and smashed his heel directly into it, and there was an angry and surprised cry as the monster fell back.

Shaking with adrenaline, he backed further into the crate, hugging his knees to his chest. The face of the faux gentleman returned, shards of the mask falling away, to reveal a much more horrifying sight- a featureless face, as though someone had stretched the white skin right over where his eye, nose, and mouth should have been. There was no expression, but he seemed amused in a cold and detached way, not far from how he envisioned the face of the grim reaper to look when it came for him shortly.

Frederick let out an undignified shriek as it grabbed him by the leg and yanked him out of his hiding place, the entire world turning upside down for a moment, before he was upright again, held by a cage of razor blades, each threatening to slice him like butter if he moved even an inch.

It was carrying him above the ground, and he could only hang suspended and completely helpless, paralyzed by his own fear. He was carried to an open spot in the middle of the room, the light shining down like a spot light from the fractured roof, illuminating Orpheus, surrounded by beasts and creatures, the museum curator smiling smugly at his side, an old fencing sword in his hand.

Frederick let out a cry of despair, realizing that it had all been for nothing, and Orpheus turned to look at him, pale as a sheet as realized the same.

“Are we all coming to our senses now?” The curator asked, and Frederick sort of wished he’d remembered the man’s name. What had it been again? Joseph?

“What do you want?” Orpheus spat, and Joseph just laughed, seemingly quite comfortable in this checkmate he’d arranged.

“I’ll be honest, it’s strange to see you like this, after all this time.” He hummed, tapping his fingers on the hilt of his sword. “Orpheus. Hah, once upon a time, you would have gutted me for calling you that. Then again, you aren’t really him, are you?”

“And what if I don’t want to be him anymore, ever again?” Orpheus said defiantly, and while Frederick wanted to feel pride for him, it was quickly overwhelmed by fear, as the sharp blades came closer to his throat.

Orpheus inhaled tightly and gripped his arm as feathers began to sprout from it, trying him best to push it back down. Frederick could tell he was angry, and god how he wished they’d had more time to help him learn how to control this.

“Doesn’t look like you have much say in the matter.” Joseph observed, glancing over at Frederick. “Even with his help, I doubt you could get both you and your little pet out of here alive. Not with all of us against you.”

“Why do you even need me then?” Orpheus snapped, gritting his teeth and breathing deeply, slowing the progress of the feathers. “What do you need a king for if you could just overthrow me?”

Joseph tilted his head, giving him a peculiar look.

“You really don’t remember, do you?” He laughed. “Or maybe you thought we’d forget, after all these years.”

Orpheus looked a bit lost, and Frederick realized he must have been telling the truth when he said he didn’t remember everything.

“You promised us.” Joseph hissed, his face cracking like glass, showing only darkness underneath. “You said if we helped you destroy it, you’d remake a world where we could be happy. That you’d right the wrongs the universe had committed against us! You can’t take that back, not after all this time in which you’ve left us to rot.”

Frederick suddenly realized, that the figures that surrounded them weren’t actually monsters, not really. They were people. Broken and angry people, but people nonetheless. His heart ached, and he wondered if he’d been offered something like that, wouldn’t he have done the same? A way to cure his pain, his loneliness? Of course. Of course he would have.

“You’ve been in pain,” Frederick choked out, all eyes suddenly on him, blades brushing against his neck. “All this time, you’ve just been in pain, haven’t you?”

As he blinked away tears, Joseph’s face was back to normal, a more gentle expression on his face.

“You understand, I’m glad.” He smiled, still always with a lack of humanity behind it. “You understand why you must die.”

“No!” Orpheus shouted, and Frederick’s breath hitched as he felt one of the cold blades drag across his cheek, cutting his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered, ready to feel the rest come slashing through his throat any second.

“Stop!” Orpheus roared, with a voice so commanding, it made the man holding Frederick pause, as though he’d received an order. When Frederick opened his eyes, he could see a purple glint in Orpheus’, filling his heart with dread.

He took another deep breath, but this time seemed to collect himself completely, straightening his posture. “If you so much as put another scratch on that man, I can assure you that you’ll never get what you want. Ever. I will never grant your wishes, I will never be your king.”

“Orpheus-“ Frederick gasped out, trembling as the crowd of creatures began to murmur to themselves in uncertainty.

“…But if you let him go,” Orpheus said, and when Frederick realized what was he doing, his heart seemed to drop out of his chest. “Then I will uphold my end of the deal.”

“No-“ He choked on his own sob, but no one seemed to be paying attention to what he had to say anymore. “Orpheus, do not.”

He let out a cry of surprised as he was suddenly let go, tumbling to the concrete floor, practically falling on his face. His head was spinning and it was hard to breathe, and by the time he’d raised his head, the tormented souls gathered into a swarm of shadows, which began obscuring Orpheus, who looked back over his shoulder, Joseph leading him with a hand on his back and a satisfied grin on his face.

“No!” He screamed, but his legs felt too weak to allow him to stand, leaving him only able to crawl his way forwards, tears flowing down his cheeks as he reached out a hand. “Orpheus, please! Don’t go, don’t-!”

Orpheus looked back at him one last time, his eyes filled with sorrow and an apology he knew that he didn’t have the time to put into words.

“I’m sorry, Frederick.” He said, and Frederick almost had enough strength to leap forwards and grab him. “…Goodbye.”

Just as Frederick lunged forwards to grab his leg, he seemed to vanish completely, leaving him grasping nothing but air. The only thing that remained was a silence so deafening he thought it might make his skull crumple inwards.

He couldn’t bear it, so instead he screamed. He screamed out in frustration and anger, banging his fists down on the concrete until they went numb and tingly. He screamed until his throat felt raw, until all he could manage were sobs, hot tears dripping off his nose as he gripped his head.

For the first time he’d been happy. He’d found what soothed the aching in his soul and made him forget the pain inside of him, and he’d just let it slip through his fingers like sand. It wasn’t fair- it was cruel and unfair, he’d tasted freedom against his lips only to have it stolen away from him.

He pressed his forehead to the cold ground and let out an anguished wail, that echoed into the silence of the empty warehouse, where he now sat alone. If only he’d been better. If only he’d been greater- braver, smarter, stronger, maybe he could have changed the outcome.

It was times like this when he thought about his brother. Well, he supposed it could have been a girl, but he’d always imagined it had been his twin brother. A better version of him, without all the flaws and inadequacies. Had his brother been born instead of him, would he have done it better? Would his father have loved him, his mother survived? Would he have been strong enough to save Orpheus?

He choked and sobbed, nearly pulling his hair out as he fell over onto his side, curling himself into a ball. His head ached and it felt as though someone had torn out his heart, leaving a gaping emptiness in it’s place that filled with his salty tears. He thought he’d already reached the lowest point in his life, but it appeared he’d been wrong.

He didn’t know how long he laid there crying, but eventually his voice gave out, leaving him only able to let out pathetic hiccups and wheezes.

Frederick could feel his consciousness dimming, but couldn’t muster up the strength to care. He knew he’d have to wake up at some point, but right now being unconscious sounded a lot better than whatever was happening now. He was exhausted, more than he’d ever been in his entire life, and as his eyes drooped shut, he could have sworn he’d heard a faint barking in the distance, growing closer as he slowly faded further away.

. . .

His sleep was dreamless, but not instant, like being suspended in darkness for a long while without knowing what was going on around him. He felt a bit like he did whenever he was ill, losing large chunks of time but his head aching too much to wake.

By the time he managed to fully regain awareness, his mouth was drier than a desert and his head felt too heavy to lift. He wasn’t lying on the concrete anymore, much to his surprise. The mattress beneath him was firm, like a cheap cot, and when he opened his eyes he was greeted with the sight of tall ceilings that arched like that of a church.

The temptation to simply close his eyes again was strong, but he jolted up in shock when he felt a cold wet sensation on his hand, and the thundering in his chest suddenly seemed quite silly as he realized it had been a dog, sniffing at his hand. The sheepdog seemed to perk up as he sat up, wagging her tail and giving a soft woof.

“Donut,” He rasped, his throat feeling as though it had been shredded to bits, the word barely escaping his lips. He coughed, and finally registered that there were actually quite a lot of people around him.

Some, like him, were rested on cots or mats, even sofas that had clearly been moved from elsewhere. His heart sunk as he realized that all of them were injured in some way, being tended to by a handful of stressed and overworked looking nurses and priests, who ran about the hall without a moments rest.

“Mr. Kreiburg, you’re awake.” A familiar voice spoke from behind him, startling him enough to make him jump.

He whipped around and saw Eli, who held his hands out in a calm surrender. “Please, I’m not going to hurt you, I-“

“Mr. Clark,” He sighed in relief, his shoulders relaxing. “I… I know now, I’m sorry- you were only trying to help us, weren’t you?”

He smiled kindly, placing a hand on Frederick’s shoulder. “It’s alright, you only did what you thought was right. I can’t fault you for that.”

“I…” Frederick trailed off, slowly coming to a realization as he looked around. “-I failed, didn’t I?”

“Failed what?” The librarian asked.

“Orpheus,” He whispered, the anguish returning. “I failed him.”

“You did what you could,” Eli said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Is he just… gone now?” Frederick asked, the thought devastating him beyond measure. To die, he thought was the worst option, but to be completely erased with not even a body to bury? No grave to grieve at?

“Orpheus? I’m not entirely sure. From what I understand him and The Nightmare King are like two sides of the same coin. As long as one exists, so will the other.”

Frederick had never been so relieved and unsettled at the same time before, hearing that from the man. Orpheus was alive, but deep down inside of him that monster would always remain, on the inside or out. The most terrifying thing was that Frederick still loved him. He could kill innocents and burn cities to the ground, but he wasn’t sure there was anything in the world that could sever what he felt. It felt like the threads of fate that connected them were now chains that had been welded into his heart.

But who was The Nightmare King really? Despite having been at Frederick’s side for multiple weeks, it felt like they’d never even met. Even if they had, would Frederick have been able to tell him apart from Orpheus? Or were they simply the same person? He sighed, dearly wishing Orpheus had told him more about this.

“I’m… I’m confused.” He rasped tiredly, rubbing his temple as his head began to ache again. “So he’s alive, then?”

“…For the moment, yes. Perhaps it’s best if someone else explains this to you.” Eli mumbled, and as soon as he finished the large doors at the end of the hall creaked loudly as they were opened, the figure of a sharply dressed woman stepping through.

Her shoes clicked loudly on the stone tile as she made her way through the centre with a purposeful stride. Her eyes were obscured by a veil that hung down from the hat she wore, giving her a cold and detached demeanour. Despite the dangerous feeling Frederick got from her, Donut trotted over to her and began wagging her tail as she sat obediently before the woman, who gently stroked the dog’s head.

Despite not being able to see her eyes, Frederick could feel her gaze turn to him, and he tried his best not to look as intimidated as he felt.

“Ah, I suppose the two of you have yet to meet,” Eli said, holding a hand out to introduce the woman, who was yet to speak. “This is Ms. Plinius, The Directress here at The Order.”

Frederick opened his mouth to utter a greeting, but was quickly interrupted.

“We’ve met.” She said, and he blinked in surprise.

“I- we have…?” Frederick blanched, a slight panic fluttering in his stomach, not particularly wanting to upset her. “I’m sorry, I- I don’t…”

She tilted her head a fraction of an inch, seeming to observed him closely from where she stood. “You really don’t remember.” She said, stated as fact, not a question.

“I’m… sorry? Wait- I remember your name, Norton mentioned you.“

“Campbell? Figures.” She sighed, crossing her arms. “How much do you know, exactly? How much have you remembered?”

Frederick blinked, completely puzzled by her phrasing.

“I… haven’t forgotten anything, as far as I know. Norton said something like that too, like I’d lost my memories or something. …Perhaps you’ve mistaken me for someone else?“

“You are different,” She muttered to herself, ignoring his question completely. “And yet…” again, she sighed, shaking her head. “Never mind that, come with me.”

She turned on her heel and began heading the same direction from which she came, and Frederick had to scramble out of the cot to follow her, trying his best not to trip over other patients.

“Can someone please explain to me what’s going on?” He asked, following her into the hallway beyond the door. Donut trotted at her heels a few feet in front of him as he struggled to keep up.

The building they were in seemed massive like a cathedral, the architecture reminding him of the library but on a much larger scale. It was quite dark, only lit by evenly spaced sconces on the wall that barely emitted any light at all. He could see windows higher up, but they seemed to be covered by something from the outside.

There was suddenly a quiet rumble, like a distant detonation, and he realized they might have been covered for a reason. Was it some kind of a war zone outside? Had things truly gone that far since he’d last been awake?

“-Please? What’s happening?”

“It’s better I explain this to you somewhere private.” She said calmly, stopping before a large wall of thorns that looked quite similar to the one Frederick and Orpheus had come across in the woods.

With a wave of her hand, the wall parted enough to let them through, and Frederick had little choice but to follow her into the dark passage. It opened to an empty circular room with a pedestal in the middle, and he gazed around at the pillars that held it up, ornately decorated with what looked to be gold. The thorns sealed tightly behind them, and Frederick could see no obvious doors or passage ways.

“I’ll assume you don’t remember how to summon your key.” She hummed casually, as though he’d understand what that meant, before primly taking off her gloves and tucking them into her pockets.

“I- no, what do you-“

Without waiting for his response, she clasped her hands together tightly, and Frederick became speechless as he watched a golden light shine from in between her fingers, despite him having seen there was nothing there. When she opened them, a golden praying mantis fluttering it’s wings crawled over her extended palm, before perching on her fingers not unlike a bird. It didn’t look completely real, to explain it simply, like some kind of ethereal projection made up of light.

He watched in awe as she held it out towards the pedestal, where it hopped and folded itself into a small hole Frederick hadn’t noticed before, causing the entire pedestal to glow for a moment. Nothing happened for a moment, but before he had the chance to speak, the floor began moving downwards, nearly causing him to lose his balance.

This was some sort of elevator, he realized as they descended, lights periodically swishing past as the strange machine picked up a bit of speed. He looked over to Ms. Plinius, who seemed quite calm, quietly putting her gloves back on.

“…How do you afford the electricity to power all these lights?” Frederick asked aloud, more to himself than anything. They seemed to be going quite far down with how long the ride was taking.

“Strange,” She hummed, surprising him with a response. “You asked me something similar the last time we were here.”

Frederick frowned, getting quite tired of this charade of people acting like they’d met him before. If he’d met her or Norton in the past, he was sure he would have remember them, as they didn’t seem the type to be easy to forget.

“Ms. Plinius, with all due respect-“

“Melly.”

“-Pardon?”

“Please, just call me Melly.” She said, her cool tone giving absolutely nothing away.

“Melly.” He repeated, finding that it indeed suited her much better. “I truly do think you’ve mistaken me for someone else. I’ve only met you just now, and I’ve never had any problems with my memory in the past.”

There was a long silence, filled by nothing but the scraping of stone as the elevator continued it’s descent.

“They’re fireflies.”

“…I beg your pardon?” Frederick blinked, baffled by her response.

“The lights,” She elaborated, tracking back to his previous question. “In fact, most of the lights in this building are powered by them. I created co-habitable ecosystem for them here, which allows them to light the lamps from within the walls.”

Frederick stared at her in disbelief, pieces falling into place inside his mind.

“Are you the beekeeper? Like- how Norton’s the prospector?”

“I prefer entomologist these days, but yes. I suppose that was my title at one point.” She sighed, shaking her head. “It’s a bit of an oversimplification, to call me that now.”

“Oh, I see.”

The elevator abruptly clunked to a stop, another thorn wall opening for them to walk through. It opened into another garden, however this one being far more tame and well kept. Water flowed through small channels in the ground, providing the soothing sound of running water in the quiet sanctuary.

As he looked up, they appeared to be in a large dome, decorated with glowing constellations, all connected by thin strings of light. As they approached the centre of the dome, a large and clear sphere surrounded by brass rings could be seen floating above the neatly trimmed trees, and a person seemed to be standing at a platform below it, where a much smaller sphere floated above a pedestal.

As they approached, the woman turned to look at them, and Frederick couldn’t stare up at her in awe. She wore a flowing white dress that hung off her shoulders, looking as though they ends faded into a wispy smoke at her bare feet. Her long blonde hair was loosely braided, but looked as though it had threads of golden woven in, making it shimmer in the low light. She smiled warmly upon their arrival, her brown eyes wiser than any owl, but her cheeks dusted with freckled that gave her an eternal childish mirth.

“Ah, Melly, Frederick, good, you’re here.” She said, looking nothing short of otherworldly.

“…You’re Alice.” He whispered softly, not needing to be introduced. “You’re Orpheus’ sister.”

Her smile turned a bit sad when he mentioned Orpheus, and she came down the steps of the platform to meet them.

“…Perhaps once, but I don’t feel as though I’m worthy of that title anymore.” She sighed, closing her eyes. “Not after everything that’s happened.”

“It’s not your fault,” Melly said, her tone much warmer than it had been before, and Frederick had the feeling she’d said the same thing many times before. “We’ll figure this out, I promise.” She said, holding Alice’s hand in her own.

“I’m sorry-“ Frederick blurted out, not intending on ruining their moment, but unable to keep it in any longer. “I’m so sorry.”

She looked at him, a bit confused. “What on earth for?” She laughed.

“I-“ His throat seemed to seize up, all his guilt boiling to the surface at once, making it very difficult not to cry. “Orpheus, I wasn’t able to- I wasn’t- I wanted to help him, but I couldn’t.” He stammered, tears welling in his eyes again. “He- he wanted to find you, to make sure you were alright, I-“

“Frederick,” She said, her sympathy doing nothing but making him want to burst out crying even more. “It’s alright, you did what you could, dear. If anything, I’m impressed- You’re the reason he managed to stay human so long.”

“I-“ He choked on a hiccup. “How do you know that? I don’t understand- I don’t understand anything anymore-“

She pulled him into a hug, and the warmth was almost overwhelming. It soothed the pain and the hurt, allowing him to breathe again, even if it was only in short bursts. Eventually, he calmed down enough for it to become slow and steady, and he wiped the tears out of his eyes and he pulled away, taking a deep breath.

“This all must be very confusing for you,” She said, a hand on his shoulder. “Let me show you something.”

Alice led him through the garden underneath the artificial stars, Melly at her side. The two of them seemed close, which he supposed was a given considering they stayed by each others side for hundreds of years. He was curious about them, but now was hardly an appropriate time for such a question.

They came upon a ring of statues, the first two depicting two very familiar faces, that being Norton and Melly. The likeliness was uncanny, and it looked like the marble might come to life at any second, carved with such careful detail it made him breathless. His eyes drifted to the next of the statues, one particularly elegant of Alice, and his heart squeeze tightly as he spotted one of Orpheus.

He looked younger, more refined than the Orpheus he knew, but it was him without a doubt. He didn’t smile, his gaze set blankly forwards as he held an open book in one hand, the other behind his back. He stopped briefly to stare, wondering if he’d ever get to see that face again, when he noticed a number of dried bunches of flowers that had been set down on the base of the statue, some fresher than others.

“I came here a lot, when I was missing him.” Alice said quietly, appearing beside him to look at the statue as well. “It almost felt like I’d lost him entirely, sometimes. But I knew was still sleeping, right where I’d left him.”

“…Why a well?” Frederick asked instead of the question he wanted to. He wanted to ask her why she’d sealed him away at all, even though he already knew the answer.

She smiled sadly, as she seemed to see through his question. “You know, I’m not sure. I thought it would be easier to hide him that way.”

“You never thought of letting him out?”

“Of course I did,” she whispered, her voice trembling, and suddenly felt terrible as he watch her facade crumble slightly. “I never wanted to do that to him, not ever. But, if I didn’t stop him, the damage he was doing would have never stopped. I tried, I tried to convince him to stop, but he just wouldn’t.”

Melly pulled her into her arms protectively, shooting Frederick a chilling glare that made his shoulders hunch in guilt. Alice sniffled, but quickly wiped the tears from her face, regathering her composure, squeezing Melly’s hand as she pulled away.

“It was the only way to stop him without killing him.” She sighed, the pain in her eyes making it clear to him that this hadn’t stopped haunting her in the hundreds of years that had gone by. “I thought it would buy us time to create a cure.”

“But it didn’t work.” Frederick said softly, remembering what Norton had told them.

She shook her head solemnly. “No, It didn’t. We tried every equation, every formula, but nothing worked. Then you came along, and now everything’s changed.”

“I- I still don’t understand,” He frowned, and as he turned to look at the next statue it only exponentially increased his confusion.

It was him. Perhaps not identical, as the statue didn’t seem as detailed as the others, as though it had never been completed, but without a doubt it was his own face carved in marble, staring back at him. He felt as though he’d been dropped into an ocean with no way to stay afloat, consumed by anger, envy, and despair.

Is this who his brother would have been? No, that didn’t make any sense, this statue was hundreds of years old. Had his memories really been stolen from him like they had from Orpheus? Was there an entire separate life he’d been deprived from remembering, where he’d been as great as he always wanted to be? No, that couldn’t be it either.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to yell at the two women for playing this sick joke on him in such poor taste, to throw away the last of his dignity and let himself wither away into an empty husk and disappear from the universe entirely.

“I’m not-“ He choked out, completely overwhelmed. “-But I’m not like you,” He whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’m human- I’ve had a human life- I went to school, I remember learning the piano, every birthday, I don’t-“

He let out a strangled sob, his vision blurring. “I’ve never been extraordinary, I’ve never been this person before. I want to be, but I never have been.”

The statue looked grand, of a confident man who tasted the success he so clearly lacked. He could tell just from his clothes, just from his smile, he had been someone- so why had he never heard of him before?

He hadn’t noticed falling to his knees until Alice crouched down to his level, a pity in her eyes that he hated. “I’m sorry. You’re right, this was never you. But at the same time, it was.”

“I don’t get it,” He whispered, tears blurring his vision.

“I have no intentions of questioning your methods, Alice, but do you think it’s wise to tell him about this?” Melly asked, her voice sounding miles away. “It might have been better if he’d never known.”

“Perhaps, but the circumstances are dire. That, and… he deserves to know.”

“Know what!?”

The two women exchanged a glance, Alice taking a deep breath.

“Frederick, you died. A very long time ago. This version of you, anyways.” She said, looking to the statue. “…It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t,” Melly insisted, but Alice shook her head.

“No, It was. Even in your past life, you loved Orpheus dearly- even after he stripped you of all your power and left you unable to fight.”

Orpheus had always felt familiar to him. From the moment he’d seen his face, it felt like they had met before. It was hard to imagine Orpheus would betray him like that, but he supposed he just had by leaving him in that warehouse alone. It had been to protect him, yes, but to him it was a betrayal all the same.

“You woke up after the battle was done, and you were furious with me for sealing him away.” She continued, her voice wavering. “You demanded me to tell you where he was, but I knew you’d only try to free him in your grief. Even if I had, the spell was much stronger when it was first cast, and you wouldn’t have been able to break it on your own.”

He could imagine it. The helplessness, the anger. It’s something he knew all too well from being a human.

“You tried everything to get him back. You raised havoc and rebellion, turning against us to consult his army, but without my power to protect you… you were killed before you even had the chance.”

“-But that’s not part of the story.” He mumbled weakly, having heard this tale time and time again. How had he become a part of this fairy tale from his childhood? “The Nightmare King dies, and that’s supposed to be the end.”

Alice looked at him, guilt in her eyes. “That’s the story we told, yes. The story that’s been remembered. To keep Orpheus safe, it was safer to remove you from history completely. I’m sorry, I truly am.”

Frederick felt numb, and he wondered if just now he’d finally reached his limit. Was this the amount of stress his mind could take before it broke completely? He wasn’t sure.

“…Is this the only reason Orpheus liked me? Because I reminded him of someone else?” He asked.

“No,” Alice said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Of course not. He didn’t remember you at all, nor did you for him. Somehow, the two of you managed to meet again as perfect strangers.”

“But- I don’t understand, how could I have come back to life? -how would I have known to find him there in that well!? How is any of this possible!?”

She smiled, hundreds of years of knowledge and thought behind her deep brown eyes, and she laughed a little bit. “Honestly, I’m not quite sure.”

Frederick blinked, and felt a bit like he’d asked god why he’d been created, and that god had just shrugged and said they didn’t know.

“…What?”

“I don’t know. It’s possible you were reincarnated somehow, but that’s far beyond anything I’m capable of.”

“But-!” He let out an exasperated scoff, approaching his wit’s end. “You- You’re supposed to have all the answers! You’re some sort of immortal deity, and you’re telling me you don’t know!?”

Standing up, she held out a hand for him to grab, a patient smile on her face. “No, I’m afraid I don’t have all the answers just yet. But, as I see it, the universe has given us a second chance. A second chance to make things right this time.“

Shakily, he let her help him to his feet, and he felt a bit like a storm inside his chest had just passed, leaving his heart rain-soaked but still beating.

“You are that second chance, Frederick.”

“But it’s already too late, isn’t it?” He sniffled, wiping his face with his sleeve. “I failed.”

“Not at all. If anything, you’ve played your part perfectly thus far.” Melly said, and Frederick jumped a bit, having almost forgotten she was there. “However, there’s still much work to be done.”

“Melly, there’s no need to be all mysterious.” Alice chuckled, shaking her head. “But she is right. I’ve been keeping an eye on the two of you. Even if I couldn’t be there myself, I’ve had some friends to help me out.”

The sweet song of a nightingale pierced the air, and he blinked rapidly, realizing that the garden’s trees were full of them. They were small, so easy to miss, especially when he’d been keeping his eye out for ravens all this time instead.

“You saw…?” He whispered in awe, before his face flushed red with embarrassment. “N-Not everything, right?”

She giggled. “Don’t worry, I gave your privacy when I thought it was necessary.”

He cleared his throat, rubbing the redness from his face.

“The point is, there’s still hope. You were able to reverse the effects of the curse while he was already mostly transformed.”

“I- Yes, but it’s not as though I’m entirely sure how I did it.” Frederick grumbled, trying his best to remember and coming up completely blank.

He’d only asked Orpheus to stay. Would it be different, asking him to come back?

“Follow me,” Alice sighed, leading him back to centre of the garden and up the steps to the platform. She put a hand over the glowing orb, and suddenly the stars above them vanished, replaced with skies full of fire and smoke.

His breath hitched with dread as he realized it was the city, as though the dome were now somehow atop a building, looking down at the skyline of buildings that were only silhouettes against the red glow below.

“God,” He whispered, frozen in horror.

“Most people have already been evacuated from the city with the help of The Order.” Melly explained, offering him a bit of relief. “Those who haven’t are being treated and sheltered here.”

“…What do we do?” Frederick asked, wide eyes filled with the reflection of flames.

“We need to get you there,” She said, pointing to a clock tower that was surrounded by a large dark cloud, that upon closer inspection, seemed to be moving. “From the intel we’ve gathered, we know The Nightmare King is at the top, using it as a vantage point.”

Frederick could only stare at the dark cloud of birds, churning like a storm, feeling sick to his stomach.

“We’ve committed most of our resources to keeping the monsters contained within the city, but most of them appear to be stationed around the tower itself. Sneaking you in there won’t be easy, especially with all the ravens keeping watch.” Alice said, looking to be deep in thought, as though a game of chess was laid out before her.

“Who- Who said I had to be?” He asked, blinking in confusion.

“It will minimize the amount of casualties at our expense.” Melly said, and he suddenly realized that they planned on sending people with him.

“Wait, no- I mean, wouldn’t it be better if I went alone?”

The two of them looked at him incredulously, and he scrambled to explain.

“The monsters, they aren’t allowed to hurt me.” He said, trying his best to sound certain. “Orpheus made them promise, that if hurt me then they’d never get what they want.”

“They already have what they want-“ Melly started, but Alice raised a hand, cutting her off.

“No, not quite.” She said, staring thoughtfully. “They don’t get it until the work is done.”

“Still, that relies on them keeping their word.” Melly huffed, crossing her arms. “Are we really going to trust all of them to keep that promise?”

“What about the ravens?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The ravens,” Frederick said, turning to Alice. “You said it yourself, the ravens are watching everywhere. We don’t have to have faith in all of their word, only Orpheus’.”

A long silence followed, and he began to worry he was making himself sound foolish. But it made sense to him- if Orpheus saw one of them break the promise, then by his own word he couldn’t destroy the world. Perhaps he would even go back to being Orpheus.

“That’s incredibly risky.” Alice said, looking him in the eye with a deadly seriousness. “On one hand, Orpheus cannot break a deal he’s made. The magic we use has that sort of effect on your soul. But on the other, if it doesn’t work, we lose our only chance at getting him back.”

“Is there any other option?” He asked, a sudden burst of confidence taking a hold of him. “It’s not like he’s going to provide a convenient opening for us to meet.”

“And what happens if he simply decides to kill you himself?” Melly asked, making him flinch. “May I remind the two of you, he isn’t Orpheus anymore.”

“He won’t.” Alice said, stated as fact she wholeheartedly believed. “Even as The Nightmare King, I’m sure he’ll be too fascinated with you to do so.”

“Are we really going to stake our world on that?”

“Please,” Frederick said, not wanting anyone else to die for his sake. “Just let me try. If I can just- If I can just talk to him, I think I can figure this out.”

“Is that a formal request?” Alice asked, feeling in a sort of way that she was asking if he was sure. “You’re asking us to trust you.”

Frederick paused, chewing his lip nervously.

“I- …Yes. Yes, I am.”

Notes:

Actually posting at a decent hour this time! Wanted to give this chapter the extra polish it deserved, considering the next will probably be the last! Also sorry for the lack of Alimelly, they are a background ship and there’s a lot of stuff going on. But they are in love, don’t worry

Chapter 10: X

Summary:

I’ll leave all my mushy gratitude in the notes and stuff, but I hope you guys enjoy it! Sorry if any of this feels a bit rushed, I wanted to get this out before AOM 2 drops in like a couple of days. If I feel like it’s not enough later I can always come back and rewrite it, I guess. I just really want this final chapter to be great for you all, as great as I can possibly make it!

(TW: Fire, injury, smoke, fear, threats, minor violence, minor body horror)

Around him, the city he grew up in burned. With nothing but a handkerchief tied over his nose and mouth to keep out the smoke, and a slightly water damaged journal hugged to his chest, he truly felt as though he were traversing the fires of hell.

He tried his best to hold onto the words Alice had given to him before he’d left. The Order had managed to recover Orpheus’ journal from the abandoned mine site, and she’d insisted he keep it close to him, that somehow it might protect him from harm.

“But how? It’s only leather and paper.” He’d asked, his heart strung tight as he ran his hand over the mud stained cover. It felt like the only remnant left of the Orpheus he knew, and he’d wanted to keep it safe, preserved- in the event that he didn’t come back with him, or he himself didn’t come back at all.

“It’s much more than that,” Alice had smiled, a knowing look behind her wise eyes. “It’s physical proof of the bond between the two of you. It holds a strength much larger than you know.”

Her vague words were his only scrap of comfort as he scurried through the streets, trying his best not to be seen. They were completely empty, save for the monsters that patrolled around every once in a while, but thankfully they made enough noise for him to duck out of sight just in time. His eyes burned and his heart thundered, knowing just how many people were counting on him to succeed.

The sky glowed an eerie red, allowing him to see the silhouette of the clock tower growing closer as he weaved through crumbled streets. It truly looked as though a bomb had gone off, decimating structures that were thankfully empty of people.

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stomach doing this if there were bodies littered about the debris, though every once in a while he would imagine one and had to stop himself from throwing up. What if the city hadn’t been evacuated first? Would Orpheus really have killed all those people in their own homes? Let them be crushed beneath the rubble, men, women, and children alike?

He shook away the thought, disappointed in himself for even thinking it. No, Orpheus had waited for the citizens to evacuate before he’d launched his attack on the city. What did that mean? Did it mean he was still in there, waiting for Frederick to come rescue him? It felt like wishful thinking, but he couldn’t imagine another reason. He was waiting up in that clock tower, biding his time. But he wouldn’t wait forever. Sooner or later, he would make a move, Frederick just needed to get to him before he did.

He was suddenly startled by an ear piercing shriek, not like any voice, but more akin to the sound of nails on a chalkboard. He stumbled, and in doing so, closely managed to avoid another of the sharp sounds, that sliced the stone wall behind him cleanly in half. He fell backwards in fear, shaking as he realized that he’d most likely almost been cleaved in two, and his gaze snapped to where the horrible sounds had come from, a tall figure approaching through the smoke.

The man, could he be called that, smelled like rot. His eyes were mostly covered by long, oily black hair so long that it nearly reached his feet. He held a damaged violin, not with his hands, that hung lifelessly at his sides, but with tendrils of his dark locks, which seemed to move on their own. While his eyes weren’t visible, a wide unnatural grin seemed to take up most of his face, which was stitched together like a patchwork doll.

“Oh,” He hummed, tilting his to reveal his empty eye sockets. “You’re The King’s little pet, aren’t you? What are you doing here?”

Frederick swallowed thickly, gathering his wits and trying his best not to wonder how the man could recognize him without eyes. “I- I-“

“You should have taken the chance to leave when you had it, my friend.”

The bow drew across the violin’s single string, and yet somehow it still managed to produce a melody. It fascinated him for a moment, before he realized that was what he’d been using to make those horrific sounds.

“W-wait! You can’t hurt me!” He blurted out, scooting backwards, gripping the journal so tightly the bones in his knuckles felt like they might pierce right through his skin.

The man paused. And then, he laughed. He laughed loudly, like Frederick had just told him the greatest joke he’d ever heard, and the dread in his heart was almost enough to make him sick.

“-And why on earth wouldn’t I be able to do that?” He chuckled, coming down from his fit of laughter.

“The deal-“ Frederick gasped, feeling like a trembling rabbit pleading with a fox. “If you hurt me, he won’t grant your wish.”

Frederick hadn’t thought it possible, but the man’s grin seemed to widen.

“And what happens, pray tell-“ He leaned in closely, looming over Frederick like a hungry wolf. “-If I don’t have a wish?”

He could feel the blood drain from his face, and all his muscles grow weak. He wondered how he’d faced death so many times already and it still made him shake and tremble like a child. One would think they were at least acquaintances at the very least, but it always seemed to come with a different face. How hadn’t he considered that? That perhaps some of the monsters truly were just that- monsters.

The man laughed again, and Frederick let out a breath that had been stuck in his throat. “I’m only jesting. But my, the look on your face. I can see why he’s so fond of you.”

“…What?”

“Your fear,” He grinned, coming so close that his rotten stench was almost enough to make Frederick’s eyes water. “It’s positively exquisite. I wonder how it might taste, if I severed all your fingers, one by one.”

Frederick’s body shuddered violently, and it took every ounce of will not to squeeze his eyes shut and turn away. It would have hardly helped anyways.

“…So do you have a wish, or don’t you?” he asked around the lump in his throat, forcing himself to breathe the rancid air before him.

“Only one, but I hardly need his help fulfilling it.” The man chuckled, making sure Frederick knew he held no power over him. “I wonder, would he even notice if I killed you? After all, if there’s no one to tell him…”

He was interrupted by the discordant cry of a raven, sitting at the top of the crooked lamp post just behind Frederick, glaring down at the man with a menacing look. The tall man scowled but stepped back out of Frederick’s personal space, a tendril of dark hair picking up a piece of rubble and throwing it at the bird, which squawked loudly, flapping over the land on the edge of a roof, where even more were perched, watching.

“Lousy corvids.” He grumbled, turning to Frederick with a sigh. “Why are you still here? Leave already.”

“I-“ Frederick took a breath, swallowing his fear and remembering his objective. “N-no.”

“No?”

“I’m going to see him.” He said firmly, standing up straight, still hugging the journal tightly. “Orpheus, I mean.”

This seemed to stoke the embers of the violinist’s interest in him, looking quite amused by his brazen stupidity. “It’s not him anymore, you know.”

He swallowed, hesitantly bobbing his head in a nod. “I- I know. I just-“ He bit his lip, knowing it probably wasn’t a great idea to divulge the plan to the enemy. “I… I didn’t get to say goodbye. Properly, I mean.”

The violinist raised a brow, not looking entirely convinced, but not very suspicious either. After all, what threat could he possibly pose? For once, Frederick’s feebleness was working to his advantage.

“You truly are quite peculiar, Mr…”

“-Kreiburg.”

“Mr. Kreiburg. Hmm, well if I can’t disembowel you, I might as well bring you to him.” The man hummed.

“R- really…?”

“I don’t see why not. It’s not like any of the others can do anything to stop you anyways.” He shrugged, glancing at where the ravens were perched, where even more seemed to have gathered. “Perhaps he just wants to kill you himself. Either way, it’s not really any of my concern. If you wish to be guided to your demise, then so be it.”

“I- um, thank… you…?”

“No need. You’re simply lucky that you haven’t had to pay the ferryman a toll, this time at least.”

. . .

It was something surreal to follow the violinist through the streets. In his mind a beautiful overture played, all the carnage, yet also the distinct emptiness of it all. If violence was an art form, and The Nightmare King the artist, then this work of his felt incredibly familiar to him. Something impressive, perhaps, but lacked any sense of soul or inspiration. His work would never be nearly as wonderfully tragic until people actually started to die. The grief, the terror, the anguish, he could imagine it all. He was waiting, planning his absolute masterpiece.

Was it strange that he was morbidly curious to see what it was like? If he failed, could he still watch fire rain from the sky and the blood flow like rivers? Would it be beautiful in some strange, twisted way? He imagined so.

They approached the clock tower that stood tall like a fortress and he swallowed, feeling smaller than he ever had. Frederick wasn’t short. In fact, some would consider him quite tall, but the way the shadows were cast and the beasts that loomed over him, make him feel like a young child, exploring the large halls of a manor he didn’t quite know.

With dozens of spine chilling glares burning into him from every angle, anxiously, he began to hum. He kept his gaze forwards, holding the journal and imagining it creating an invisible bubble of safety around him, hoping that’s how it worked. Nothing glowed or happened, so he had no way of knowing, and he desperately wished his faith was enough.

The monsters seemed to understand their stalemate, but that didn’t stop the malice and rage that bled from every single one of them, choking him like the smoke in the air.

Frederick followed the violinist through the massive wooden doors, and as they entered, he immediately looked up and became dizzy at the sight of the rickety old stairs that spiralled all the way up to the top. At the bottom, in the empty space of the middle lounged a large, lizard-like man atop a pile of crates and storage, speaking to Joseph, who’s eyes narrowed considerably upon spotting him.

“What is he doing here?” He asked, shooting the approaching violinist a look. “Can’t any of you do your jobs right?”

“His Majesty has a visitor,” The violinist replied, still grinning ear to ear. “Who am I to deny such a request?”

“Absolutely not.” Joseph snapped, his gaze cold and hard. “Do you take me for a fool? If it weren’t for the agreement, you’d already be dead.”

“Joseph,” The lizard man hissed, sitting up and cracking his neck, unravelling to his full height, which must have been at least four times the size of Frederick’s. “There’s no need to be so rude. If The King didn’t want him here, than I don’t think he would be. Let me take care of this.”

The man scoffed, turning on his heels and his tailcoat flapping behind him as he left, the violinist following not long after, leaving Frederick alone with the largest reptile he’d ever seen. He found himself staring teeth protruding from the creature’s gums, realizing he’d seen a similar sized bite before, one large enough to bite off a man’s head.

“You’re the one who bit Norton-“ He said, the words slipping from his lips before he could stop them. “-aren’t you?”

A layer of thin translucent eyelids blinked vertically, and Frederick tried not to shudder as it tilted its head to get a better look at him.

“I am. I suppose we never did meet formally, did we?” He said, surprisingly well spoken. “My name is Luchino Diruse. I apologize for our last meeting, it truly wasn’t anything personal.”

“Norton, is he-?” He cut himself off, realizing he might not want to know the answer. He didn’t want to know if Norton was dead.

“He’s fine.” Luchino grunted casually, and Frederick couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief. “He’s being kept elsewhere until he regains his senses.”

“-Until he’s like you, you mean?” He nearly bit his tongue in his haste to shut his own mouth, making himself want to shrivel up and die.

Luchino looked down at him curiously, drumming his claws on his leg.

“Do you know what we are, Mr. Kreiburg?” He asked, his tone sounding genuine, making Frederick jump that he knew his name.

“I… No, not really.” He admitted.

“Did you know that I’m a professor?”

“I- what?”

“I’m a professor. I’ve contributed multiple research papers that have been vital in humanity’s modern understanding of biology. They’ve all been published under aliases, of course.” He hummed, seeming to be a bit lost in thought. “I’m the reason we’re all like this.”

Frederick stared in disbelief, having not realized he truly didn’t know anything about this.

“Well, not entirely, I suppose.” He sighed, a forked tongue briefly flicking out to taste the air. “I messed with things that were far beyond my understanding- things that still are, really. I thought I was creating the next stage of evolution, and some might even say I succeeded.”

“…But?” Frederick asked into the silence that followed, earning him a chuckle from the lizard man.

“It’s true, we cannot die, but in a way that is a curse of it’s own.” He said, leaning forwards. “Unlike Joseph, who has clung to the promise of an impossible wish for all these years, many of us are tired. I hadn’t realized, how valuable it was, to be human.”

“Then how do I stop it?“ Frederick huffed, wondering, why Luchino was telling him all this if he thought that Frederick was simply walking to his own demise? “How do I fix this?”

The reptilian man grinned, eyeing the ravens that sat perched on the railing to the spiral stairs, then leaned in close and began to whisper.

“You must do whatever it is I did, all those years ago. You must bridge the gap between magic and science. It will feel like trying to build a bridge over an ocean, but something tells me it will be possible, if you have enough reason to do it.” He hissed quietly.

“That doesn’t explain anything,” He whispered back, exasperated. “-And I’m not- I’m just human, I don’t know anything about magic or science!”

The lizard man leaned back away, and Frederick had to keep himself from cussing him out for being so vague, but stopped, knowing the dark feathered birds watching them closely. Instead, he simply simmered in his annoyance.

“As I said, I don’t entirely understand it myself.” He said, standing up from where he sat atop the crates. “To know something inherently unknowable, it takes a different kind of thinking. I’ve been alive too long to ponder it now, I think, but perhaps you might see it at the right moment.”

Frederick sighed, looking up at the long climb ahead of him. “Well, I certainly have the time to consider it. If I don’t have a heart attack before I reach the top.” He grumbled, already feeling the aching in his legs. He was getting too old for this.

“Ah the stairs,” Luchino chuckled, tilting his head back. “I can give you a bit of a shortcut, if you’d like.”

“Uh, sure I- wha-!” Frederick let out a yelp as Luchino picked him up by the waist like a doll, and like he weighed even less. He clutched at the claws that were closed around him, before looking and realizing that he seemed to be calculating a jump.

“Wai- wait-!” He stammered, the ravens beginning to make a ruckus.

His protests were cut off by his own scream, as they were launched upwards so quickly, he could practically feel his heart drop into his stomach from the vertical force. There was a loud clang as Luchino grabbed one of the rails, and a brief moment of reprieve where Frederick’s brain managed to catch up with his body, but before he could even process it, they launched upwards once again.

This happened about a total of three times, the ravens squawking and swarming them, which only made him scream louder. With another loud clang, they landed at the top platform, where Luchino lifted him over the rail, and began swatting at the ravens, mildly annoyed.

“Oh relax, he’s fine.” He hissed, and after a moment the birds seemed to realize Frederick wasn’t being attacked, and began to settle down.

Frederick certainly felt less than fine, his head swimming with nausea and his ears popping from the rapid change in altitude. He was unharmed, at least, and felt a bit better than he imagined he would have if he’d climbed all those stairs himself.

“I-“ He wheezed, gripping the railing to regain his balance. “-A warning would have been nice-“ He said, swallowing back the bile in his throat.

“Every shortcut has its drawbacks.” Luchino grinned, hanging off the edge of the rail. The generally unstable metal groaned from his weight, making Frederick nervous.

“Just up that ladder, there.” He said, nodding towards a rusty metal ladder that went up further. “…Good luck.”

The lizard man leapt down before Frederick had a chance to thank him, though he wasn’t entirely sure he would have had enough breath to do so. He inhaled deeply, smoothing down his rustled hair, retying it in an effort to look less frazzled.

He jumped a bit when a raven beside him crowed loudly, and he glared, dusting himself off. “Yes, yes, in a minute.” He mumbled before turning to face the ladder, gathering up his courage or anything that could be used as a substitute.

He stood there a while, staring, his feet stuck to the ground. What would The Nightmare King be like? He’d seen depictions of him before, varying quite a lot, but he was more nervous to see whether or not he knew who Frederick was. Melly had told him that The Nightmare King wasn’t Orpheus, yet Eli had said they were two sides of the same coin.

Surely, Orpheus had to be in there somewhere. Otherwise he’d already be dead, wouldn’t he? He looked at the worn journal in his hands, tempted to open it, to read just a small passage to give himself any sort of comfort. He took another deep breath, deciding against it, and shoving it inside his vest as he began climbing the ladder.

The climb was longer than he expected, surrounded on every side by old pipes and metal beams. When he got to the top, it was unnervingly quiet. All the gears and machinery had gone still, like time itself was holding its breath. Swallowing his fear, he walked forwards, ducking under the stationary clockwork until he entered a large open space, where the reverse side of the clock’s face towered tall at the end of the room.

Many things had been gathered into the space, from what looked to be lavish furniture stolen from some of the more extravagant estates in town, tables full of various chemicals, and other strange objects he couldn’t quite identify. A breeze rustled some stray papers off of one of the tables, and he saw that a small part of the clock’s face was open, like a window.

A large raven flew through the opening, landing on the arm of a large figure who stood silhouetted by the yellow glow the clock’s face seemed to emit. There was a deep hum and the rustle of feathers, as the figure gently stroked the raven, murmuring something inaudible to it, before turning to show the silhouette had a beak of its own.

Frederick’s heart pounded inside his chest, his jaw wired shut and all his joints locked in place. Finally, the figure seemed to notice him, the bird perched on his long clawed finger flapping back off into the red haze outside. He turned, and Frederick suddenly realized that it was a mask, not unlike that of an old plague doctor, the circular glass of the eyes clouded entirely purple, giving no trace of an expression or discernible mood.

His mouth went dry, and it felt as though he’d forgotten how to speak. There was something about the sinister presence before him that petrified him so completely that he dared not even blink. It evoked some sort of primal fear within him, something woven into his bones from the day he was born. Suddenly it wasn’t so hard to believe he might have lived a past life, struck by the familiarity of a feeling he seemed to be experiencing for the first time.

Every muscle in his body screamed for him to run away, yet it seemed impossible to even consider moving at all. It was suffocating, that deep purple gaze. So much older than anything he had ever known.

“Ah, my dear little songbird.” A deep baritone voice purred, reaching every corner of the room. “How wonderful it is to see you.”

Involuntarily, a breath escaped his lips, and he quickly sucked it back in, praying he hadn’t noticed. He swallowed thickly.

“H… Hello.” He uttered, unable to keep his voice from cracking embarrassingly. “I…”

Frederick began to wish he’d planned what he was going to say. Even just a polite greeting to begin with. Now the chasm between them seemed so impossibly large, he couldn’t think of anything to put there. He remembered what Luchino had said, about building a bridge, but he had no idea where to start.

“You seem to be at a loss for words,” The dark figure commented, approaching slowly, footsteps echoing into the large space.

“Are you nervous?”

The blood in his veins turned cold as ice, and he was afraid for a moment he might have finally suffered a heart attack. The beating drum in his ears had become such a common occurrence he must have tuned it out. He stiffly tilted his head upwards to look at the massive beast-like man before him, trying to find any resemblance to the man he’d once been.

“Do you-“ He swallowed dryly, his hands shaking as they were clenched at his sides. “Do you… know me…?”

The creature let out a deep chuckle, crouching down to his level and reaching his sharp claw, which he realized resembled the tip of a pen.

Frederick flinched terribly as it came near his face, squeezing his eyes shut and shrinking away.

“Of course I do.” He cooed softly, and Frederick gasped softly as the creature used the sharpened point to do nothing but gently tuck some hair behind his ear. “…How on earth could I forget?”

He opened his eyes and shuddered, the beak of the mask inches away from his face. As he caught his breath, he slowly realized that it was moving, twitching and crinkling like a real face.

It wasn’t a mask at all, he realized, horrified.

Orpheus’ name fell off his lips, but his voice made no sound. If it did, it was only a breath, but even then the thing before him seemed to hear it.

The raven man stood, letting out a barely perceptible scoff.

“You are afraid.” He hummed. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re human. It is in your nature to feel fear.”

“I’m not-“ Frederick blurted, again his heart speaking faster than his mind. “I’m not afraid of you,” He breathed, trying to remind himself who the person in front of him really was.

“No?” The creature laughed, turning back to him.

“I know you’re not going to hurt me, Orpheus.” He said, feeling the weight of the journal over his heart. “I know you don’t want to do this, I know you don’t want to hurt anyone-“

The beast lunged for him in the blink of an eye, grabbing him off the ground and slamming him into the wall, making Frederick cry out in pain. It was forceful, and left him dazed, but not quite enough to crack any bones, as far as he could tell.

“Do not pretend as though you know anything about me.” The raven hissed, so close that Frederick could smell his hot breath, which smelled of rotten corpses. “I am so much more than you could ever imagine.”

His heart pounded, and his legs kicked open air as he was held by his torso, pinned to the wall. His breaths came in short uneven bursts, constricted by the large clawed hand that held him in place.

“Then why-“ He gasped, clutching at the hand with a trembling grip. “Why let all the civilians evacuate!?”

“What difference does it make? They will die all the same when the time comes.”

“No-“ He choked, panic rising in his throat. “No, the Orpheus I knew wouldn’t want to kill anyone, I know-“ He was cut short as the hand around him squeezed all the breath from him, leaving him unable to speak.

“Then perhaps,” The beast growled, and Frederick felt like his chest was going to cave in at any second. “You never knew me at all.”

Suddenly, he let go, and Frederick dropped to the floor with a loud thud, landing on his side and gasping for air. In his blurry and swimming vision, he could see the raven man walking away, back to the window, and he choked out a pathetic sob.

“-So that’s it then?” Frederick panted, swaying dangerously as he shakily tried to get to his feet. “Everything- none of it mattered?” He spat bitterly, hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

He stopped, but didn’t turn around or speak.

“What happened to coming back with me?” He choked out, feeling utterly hopeless. “To the cottage. You said you would, was that just a lie?”

He let out a sob of despair as his knees gave out, leaving him kneeling on the ground, tears dripping down onto the floor. He couldn’t believe he’d deluded himself into thinking he’d truly found love. Was he so desperate and lonely, that it could have been anyone who’d come along? Would he have been happy, had it been someone else? Or perhaps he was inherently unloveable. Maybe this had all been some cruel ploy to use him, and now that he was no longer needed, again he was being cast to the side.

He let out a miserable sound, his fingernails digging into his palms as he stared at the floor, hoping that maybe his eyes would simply run out of tears.

“…Weren’t you happy, then?” He uttered, in a small and broken voice.

In his anguish Frederick didn’t hear the raven headed man walk over to him, but suddenly he was there, sat in front of him, tenderly brushing away his tears. It seemed it didn’t matter what he looked like, Orpheus still couldn’t stand to see him cry.

“Of course I was,” He murmured softly, the otherworldly echo ceasing for a moment. “It was such a beautiful dream. I’m happy we were able to live it, if only for a short while.”

Frederick let out a sob, lunging forwards and burying his nose into a collar of soft feathers, squeezing him tightly. Orpheus seemed to freeze in surprise for a moment, before gently placing a large hand on Frederick’s back.

“Then come back with me,” He sobbed, crying into his chest. “We can run away, somewhere very far away, where no one will ever find us- Just you and me.”

Orpheus heaved out a heavy sigh, carefully peeling Frederick off of him, and holding his face.

“-In the end, that’s all it could have ever been, my dear. A dream.” He said, and Frederick's lower lip trembled. “I was always going to have to wake up eventually.”

Frederick let out a weak and tired laugh. It all seemed so terribly unfair.

“I can make it better, if you’d like.” The deep voice croaked, as he gently stroked Frederick’s face. “You don’t have to feel the hurt or the pain.”

“What do you mean?” He asked hollowly, not bothering to even look up.

“I can create a world where it's possible,” He offered, his voice quiet and gentle. “I could give you all the fame and fortune you so rightly deserve, make people see you for who you truly are.”

“That’s not what I want,” He muttered. Maybe once he would have wanted that, but not anymore.

“Then I can give you what you do. You and I, at the cottage, just like you said. A beautiful dream, where you wouldn’t even remember what pain was like.”

“…Would it be real?”

The long silence that followed told him everything he needed to know. The offer was tempting, certainly. To let go of it all, let himself be taken away and forget the millions of lives that rested on his shoulders. He deserved to be happy after all this time, didn’t he? It wasn’t like he would remember the cost.

He shook his head, chuckling to himself. “If I didn’t remember pain, then I wouldn’t remember you.”

“…Then perhaps that is for the best.”

“Shut up.” Frederick muttered, not enough energy to put any bite behind his words. “You can’t take that away from me. You can’t take away everything we went through together, not for anything in the world. I’d rather die.”

“Your death would not save this world,” Orpheus murmured from his strange beak. “If anything, it would only make me want to destroy it more.”

“Then kill me,” Frederick laughed, feeling only slightly out of his mind. “If you want to get rid of it so badly, then start with me!”

Orpheus fell silent for a moment, staring at him.

“…You were right.” He said, and Frederick blinked in confusion.

“What?”

“…I do not want to hurt you.” The raven headed man admitted, chuckling to himself. “How strange. You truly are something special, aren’t you?”

Stunned by his response, Frederick simply sat there for a moment blankly as Orpheus rose to his feet, once again turning away towards the clock’s face. A few minutes passed, and he realized that Orpheus was no longer paying attention to him, staring out the window instead.

“…You won’t stop for me, will you?” He asked, getting to his feet.

“No.”

“-But you won’t kill me either.”

“Correct.”

“Then what would you have me do?” Frederick asked, approaching his wit’s end. “…Just watch?”

Orpheus was quiet, not turning to face him.

“Return to the cottage,” He said, sounding distant and cold once again. “No harm will come to you there. No one will even come near, including me, if that is your wish.”

Go home, he was being told. Despite all the fighting, all the tears, in the end he’d failed. Was that all he was destined to do?

“Go home.” He remembered his old teacher telling him, on multiple occasions. “You have no talent, no hope to succeed. You are wasting everyone’s time by being here.”

The worst part was that he’d been right. Even after all his stubborn perseverance, he hadn’t improved or even changed a bit. He would always be stagnant, always unimpressive. He would always be the lonely little boy at the back of the room, unusual and unwanted.

He wasn’t going back to that cottage, not alone.

“…Can I at least give you something before I leave?”

Orpheus turned to look over his shoulder, almost as if he were curious. Frederick took this reaction to be something of an agreement, stepping forwards, closing the gap between them.

He reached into his vest and pulled out the mud marred book, gently dusting it off as best he could with his hands.

“Here,” He said, his lip trembling nervously as he held it out in front of him, waiting for it to be taken.

The thing that was once a man- and still was deep down he suspected, stared at him for a long time. Like the clockwork around them, he seemed frozen, only the breeze rustling his feathers giving away that time hadn’t stopped completely.

Hesitantly, he reached out a large taloned hand, and as though he suspected it might be some kind of trap, stopped just short, hovering inches away.

“….Why are you giving this to me?” He grunted after a long moment of contemplation.

“You said it was important to you.” Frederick said with a shaky smile. “…Don’t you remember? You said it was important because I gave it to you. So I’m giving it to you again. Or, returning it, I suppose.”

Carefully and tenderly, the raven headed beast took the journal, as though it were fragile and impossible to replace. He continued to stare at it, seemingly transfixed by it.

“This doesn’t belong to me.” He said quietly, his tone almost solemn. “Not anymore. I’m not the man who wrote this anymore.”

“That’s ok,” Frederick breathed, feeling like they were teetering on the top of a monumental precipice. “That’s fine. You wrote it in case you forgot, didn’t you?”

He looked back up at Frederick, perplexed.

“Why are you so determined to treat me like you did him?” He asked, sounding genuinely quite puzzled. “Would you really be willing to pretend like nothing has changed? That I’m not completely different?”

Frederick thought to himself for a moment, before nodding.

“I went into this knowing I didn’t know everything about you. Maybe I never will.” He shrugged, smiling. “Ultimately, that doesn’t matter to me. I will get to know you a thousand times if I must, and I will love every part of you.”

The stunned silence that followed made him realize what he’d just said, but strangely he didn’t feel embarrassed or regret it one bit. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d ever so clearly communicated his feelings into words so precisely before.

“…Oh.” Orpheus said, his voice trembling. Opening the book in his hands, he flipped to a random page.

“Yes… yes, I think I remember now.“

A bright golden light suddenly exploded from the journal, pouring off the pages and quickly flooding the room. Frederick gasped at the warmth it radiated, almost overwhelmed as it curled around him, weaving through the clockwork like long ribbons of cloth, extending out in every direction.

There was a loud groan as the machinery suddenly began to move, the entire room shaking from the force of the magical flood. Quickly, the clock tower started to crumble from the overexertion, and Frederick nearly fell right through the floor as it caved in, only to be caught by the ribbons of light.

He looked up and saw Orpheus, his original face returned, smiling at him through tears.

“Orpheus!” He cried, the loud sound of snapping metal foundations nearly drowning out his voice completely.

A chunk of concrete nearly decimated him from above, but again the magic shielded him, then began slowly closing around him like a flower, and Frederick could feel the panic set in as his sight of Orpheus shrunk to a small sliver, realizing he wasn’t protecting himself at all.

“Orpheus!” Frederick screamed, pounding against the inside of his prison of light.

“Don’t you dare leave me again! I will never forgive you!” He sobbed hysterically, a familiar helplessness washing over him. “Please!”

Orpheus just smiled at him, and the crashing and crumbling became too loud for him to hear what the man said, only seeing his lips move, before the light consumed him completely, obscuring all his senses at once.

Then he heard it, that song, again.

Two heartbeats overlapping, millions of threads cut and retied to weave a beautiful tapestry spanning infinitely in every direction. The singing was like no voice he had ever heard, something otherworldly, so far beyond the scope of what he was capable of understanding.

He wasn’t a strong believer in a higher power. Gods, or whatever one might refer to them as. Obviously, the things he’d seen recently defied any kind of logic, so he supposed it made sense, but never had he so clearly glimpsed it in person before. It was unceasing, incomprehensible, and yet somehow so unwaveringly warm and kind.

Was this how the embrace of a mother felt? So unconditional and loving, it made every bone in his body feel like it were made of glass. No words were spoken, he got the feeling he wouldn’t have understood them anyways, but he came to the understanding that something out there wanted him to be happy. Despite his track of fate always veering towards tragedy, something had been moving it back, offering him another chance.

Were he fully conscious he might have thrown up from crying at the feeling it gave him, but luckily he felt cradled in a dream, like a child being carried back to their bed.

He was suddenly so tired, and he could feel himself slowly drift to sleep.

. . .

Frederick slowly roused to consciousness from the delicate shadows of moving curtains against his face. His eyelashes fluttered open and he rubbed his eyes, sitting up in the plush white sheets below him. The window was open, letting in daylight and a serene breeze, and he blinked, looking around the room.

It was a nice room, large but devoid of any people. It was so peaceful and quiet, it almost made him wonder if he was still dreaming. He spied a vase of freshly cut flowers on the bedside table. It wasn’t a hospital, he could tell that much, but it felt strikingly similar to one.

Birds could be heard singing just outside the window, and he stared blankly for a moment, trying to get his thoughts in order, when suddenly he gasped, everything flooding back to him.

He stumbled out of the bed, his bare feet hitting the cold tile, and he swayed a little from getting up so quickly. He placed a hand on the wall to balance himself, and made an attempt to shake away his drowsiness, knowing there were much more important things at hand.

He needed to find Orpheus, he needed to make sure he was alive.

Frederick exited through the nearest door into a large corridor he immediately recognized, although it looked strikingly different when lit by the sun. He was in The Order’s building again, tall arches and pillars reaching far above him, light filtering through stained glass windows.

He looked both ways, but saw no one, making his heart sink in confusion and dread. Without thinking he began running down the large hall, relief flooding his chest when he turned the corner and saw people walking about further down. He kept running, but everyone seemed incredibly busy, not paying him much mind or attention.

Suddenly feeling quite lost, he looked for anyone he might recognize, anyone who could tell him what was going on. He nearly screamed when someone came up behind him and grabbed his shoulder, only to find an exasperated looking nurse who must have ran after him.

“Mr. Kreiburg!” She panted, catching her breath. “What are you doing up? You should be resting!”

Frantically, he shook his head.

“No- n- I- I need to know he’s alright-“ He stammered, whirling around, still looking for a familiar face. “I need-“

“Please, calm down.” She soothed, a few people giving glances at his manic behaviour. “We’re still organizing records of the injured and deceased, I-“

“Deceased!?” He shouted, his mind running at a million miles an hour.

“Please- be patient, everyone is anxious to find their families right now, it will all be sorted eventually, I promise.”

“Orpheus- I’m looking for Orpheus!” He said, clutching her shoulders, his voice breaking with desperation. “Is he alive?”

She blinked at him, clearly quite confused by what he was saying.

“I’m… sorry, I don’t know who that is.” She said, and Frederick clutched his head in frustration, trying his hardest not to snap at her.

“I need to find him.” He said, taking a deep breath and calming himself. “Please- just let me look for him.”

She sighed, looking him up and down for a moment.

“…Fine. At least put on some shoes, though, will you?”

. . .

He ran past people picking through ruins and cleaning up rubble, the skeletons of scaffolding already being erected to rebuild what had been destroyed. There wasn’t a monster in sight, making him afraid that perhaps he’d really just dreamt it all. He knew how unlikely that was, yet he believed that fear would likely always follow him, no matter where he went.

He began retracing his path towards the clocktower, a strong force guiding him there, like his heart was being pulled by an invisible thread. A few people called out to him, perhaps people from a time in his life that seemed ever so small now, but he didn’t even stop to look.

The sky was no longer red, and all the smoke had cleared, making him wonder just how long he’d been asleep. Days? Weeks? Did it matter? If Orpheus was crushed under the weight of an entire tower, Frederick would dig him out with his bare hands if he had to.

He arrived at the square, where it seemed a crowd had gathered, and he began pushing through, he began to see why.

Golden tendrils of light, not unlike the ones he remembered enveloping him in a cocoon of safety, extended out into the sky and appeared to be moving pieces of rubble. There were a couple shouts of annoyance as he tore his way through the crowd, trying to get a better look at where they were coming from, and his heart fell a little when he recognized Alice’s silhouette instead of Orpheus’.

The crowd stared in awe at her magnificent glory, and Frederick could hardly blame them. Still, he stood at the front of the crowd, feeling more than a little bit empty inside. These people would remember this for years to come, tell stories to their children, ensuring her memory for many generations more, yet he wondered if any of them even knew who Orpheus was. If they did, they likely saw him as a villain, a scapegoat in which they could pin all their frustrations.

‘The Nightmare King.’ What a silly title, he thought, as his lip trembled and his eyes burned with tears. He felt disconnected, drifting through nothing as his body remained stationary. He wasn’t sure he had it in him, to cry again. All the sound seemed to drown out his thoughts, leaving him an empty husk, staring blankly ahead.

Then, he saw another figure, and his breathing stopped.

He sparked his brain back into working, like a rusty old machine that just refused to give up. He couldn’t identify them right away, the dust clouds from the rubble obscuring their face, but he saw they also wielded the golden light, although less proficiently than Alice seemed to be.

There was a loud crash as a piece of rubble slipped from the magic’s grasp, and he heard Alice laugh, placing a hand on the person’s shoulder, as though she were teaching them how to control it. The dust began to clear, revealing the man sheepishly scratching the back of his neck, smiling back at her, words being exchanged between them that he couldn’t quite hear.

Frederick immediately ran forwards and vaulted the barrier The Order members seemed to have set up to keep the crowd a safe distance away, a few cries of alarm ringing out as he skidded down the gravel incline. He fell, scraping his arm, but he hardly felt it, getting up instantly and continuing his sprint.

“Orpheus!” He cried, tears blurring his vision as he ran across the large open space, the two figures turning to look at him.

Their eyes locked, and it was like the rest of the world seemed to vanish.

Frederick came crashing into his arms at an alarming speed, but thankfully Orpheus seemed to have been prepared to catch him, swinging him around and squeezing him tightly to his chest as he let out a tearful laugh of joy. Frederick buried his nose in the crook of his neck, squeezing his eyes shut and just holding him as close as he could. The sound of his breathing, the beating of his heart, it was like a drug he’d become hyper dependent on.

He inhaled shakily, letting his tears soak the collar of Orpheus’ shirt, simply savouring the moment as long as he could, before he realized they’d eventually have to separate, as much as he didn’t want to.

“Frederick,” Orpheus breathed, relief dripping from his voice like honey.

“You’re okay-“ Frederick sobbed, unable to stop himself from crying, knowing Orpheus would hold his face to wipe away the tears. “You’re alive.”

“It’s alright,” He laughed, rolling down his sleeve to dry Frederick’s face. “We’re alright… I promise.”

Frederick hugged him again, in disbelief at his unbelievable luck. He didn’t want to let go, not now, not ever. The universe had decided to give him this one last gift, and he couldn’t have been more grateful.

“How- how did you get here?” Orpheus laughed as they pulled away again, still holding him close. “You were-“

“-I ran.” He replied breathlessly, smiling so widely that his face was beginning to hurt. “I ran all the way here. I- I had to make sure you were okay, I-“

“Shh, hey- it’s okay.” He hummed, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Frederick moved to capture his mouth in one, but the man gently stopped him, nodding to the crowd of people who had suddenly become an enraptured audience to their reunion.

“Perhaps you two would like some time in private?” Alice offered with a giggle, and Orpheus cleared his throat, his face flushing red.

“Ah- um, y- yes. That… would probably be for the best.”

. . .

The chill of the late autumn air tasted like a refreshing drink compared to the stiff and hot atmosphere of the venue. It was being held within The Order’s castle- which is really the only thing he could think to call it. It was a beautiful building, massive really, but somehow the main hall had felt stuffy with so many people there. Perhaps it was simply the company that resided there, filled mostly with nobles who were pretending to celebrate, but all probably resented him and Orpheus more than anything else. He also didn’t particularly feel like interacting with his family and their passive-aggressively half hearted apologies.

Of course, the festivities weren’t strictly limited to the rich, and he sat smiling tiredly from a balcony as he looked down at the streets of the city, flooded with people, dancing the night away without a care in the world.

He sighed, leaning against the cold stone, resting his chin on his hand. The quiet rustle of wings caught his attention, and a smile wormed its way onto his face as he sensed a presence behind him.

“I know you’re there,” He chuckled, not bothering to turn around, already knowing who it was. “Your little servants aren’t very sneaky.”

The raven which had been watching him from a nearby tree for the past few minutes flew away in defeat, letting out a caw of annoyance at his vigilance, making him snicker.

“Mm, I can’t get anything past you, can I?” Orpheus replied, wrapping his arms around Frederick from behind and pressing a kiss just below his ear.

“Not possible,” Frederick grinned, turning to softly meet his lips as the cold biting at the tips of his ears suddenly melted away. “I know you too well.”

“Sorry,” He whispered gently, their noses still touching. “I know you don’t like me using them to watch you, I was just worried.”

“About what?” Frederick laughed, brushing his knuckles against the man’s jaw.

“Well, you all but up and disappeared, my dear. What are you doing hiding up here? This party is in your honour, after all.” He hummed, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

The musician couldn’t help but let out a snort. “God, don’t remind me. It really shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?” Orpheus asked, leaning in teasingly. “You needn’t be humble, my love, you did save the world.”

Frederick laughed again, pushing away Orpheus’ face with his hand and shaking his head. “That’s a massive over exaggeration. Besides, if they’re to celebrate me, then they should be celebrating you as well. It was ultimately your decision, in the end.”

“Yes, but I was still the cause.” He sighed, intertwining their fingers. “You don’t celebrate the dragon for being defeated, do you? Even if it was voluntarily.”

“Comparing yourself to a dragon, are we?” Frederick grinned, poking a bit of fun at him. “Quite an ego you have there.”

“You know what I’m trying to say,” Orpheus laughed, arms still wrapped around his waist. “You’re their hero. You deserve to be celebrated.”

“Mm… perhaps.” He sighed, turning to look back out on the city. “Not everyone thinks that though.”

“If you’re referring to those sour lipped executives and politicians, I can take care of them for you, If you’d like.” He said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Do not.” Frederick said, giving him a light chop on the head.

“I was only kidding,” He giggled. “-but you shouldn’t be worried about them. Alice and Melly will deal with them, I’m sure. I apologize if me being around has damaged your reputation at all, I know they despise me.”

“Don’t be!” Frederick huffed with a frown. “I couldn’t care less what those powdered fools think of me. I just don’t want them believing that you’re dangerous.”

“Like I said, Alice has that handled. She’ll be able to convince them that I’m necessary, after all I still need to help cure the others.”

Frederick sighed. “How is that going, anyways? I know you’ve told me some things- but overall, would you say it’s going well?”

“It’s going alright, I suppose. Norton and Professor Diruse have been a great help. Progress is faster thanks to them, but it’s still going to take a lot of work.” Orpheus said, guilt leaking into his voice. “I wish I could help them all right away. We’re still not sure if it’s possible to make them entirely human again.”

Leaning forwards, Frederick pressed a kiss against Orpheus’ nose, brushing away some of his hair. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Orpheus’ eyes didn’t meet his, and again that sadness was there. Something else about it was clearly bothering him, though he couldn’t imagine what it might be.

“That’s not the only thing bothering you, is it?” He said softly, watching Orpheus purse his lips, tilting his head downwards.

“…No.” He mumbled, leaning forwards and pressing their foreheads together. “…I’m worried- I…” He heaved out a sigh, closing his eyes. “I know it’s selfish, but I’m worried I won’t be able to be human either.”

“…I didn’t know that’s something you wanted.” Frederick said softly.

“It’s…”

He felt Orpheus begin to tremble and when he pulled back to look at him, he looked as though he were on the edge of tears.

“I’d like to be human with you. Because- I- otherwise, someday, you’ll leave me behind.”

“Oh, Orpheus…” Frederick smiled, the words bringing a deep ache to his chest. “You don’t have to worry about that right now. We have plenty of time.”

“I know, but we will eventually. And I- I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”

“You won’t.” Frederick assured him, whisked away by sentiments of love and comfort without thinking to actually consider if such a thing were really possible. “I don’t really know how yet, but we’ll figure it out. I promise.”

Orpheus smiled, looking up at him. “Thank you.” He laughed a bit, wiping his eyes. “Apologies, I hadn’t meant to bring down the mood like that.”

“Oh, shush. I’d offer to return to the party to lift your spirits, but I’d quite like to avoid the threat of encountering my relatives.” He grumbled, making Orpheus chuckle.

“Don’t worry, if they ever found you I’d just scare them off for you and then whisk you away with my devilish charm.” He grinned, and Frederick laughed.

“Ah, my knight in shining armour-“ He teased, bursting into another fit of giggles as Orpheus peppered feather light kisses across his face and down his neck. “S-Stop, that tickles!”

“Hmm.” Orpheus hummed as Frederick’s laughter slowly faded. “I’ll be honest, the party in there seems awfully boring. Why don’t we go dancing in town? I can even buy you some street food, if you’d like.”

“What if someone recognizes us?” Frederick asked, despite how wonderfully fun that sounded.

“So what if they do? It’s not like anyone’s going to stop us.”

Frederick blinked, realizing he was right. They weren’t fugitives anymore, and it felt as though he’d left the shackles of his reputation at the bottom of that well a long time ago. He hadn’t realized how completely and utterly free he really was, to do just about anything he wanted. The thought made him giddy from the possibilities, his heart pounding and his mind buzzing.

“Let’s go, then!” He beamed, the distant sound of street music calling his name. “Come on, hurry!” He said, grabbing Orpheus by the arm.

The man laughed in surprise, his excitement seeming to be contagious, as they ran through the empty halls, giggling like children. Frederick had never been so happy before, and later as he danced until sweat soaked through his shirt, arm linked with Orpheus’ who laughed alongside him, he decided this would do quite well. Life was far from perfect, there was still work to do, still homes to fix- but for now they were happy, and that’s all that really mattered.

Notes:

Yes, I couldn’t help but give them a happy ending. There were a number of different endings I considered, but they all felt cheap and unsatisfying, and I didn’t want to do that to you guys lol
I love Orpheus and Frederick so much, and the fact that the two of them are inherently doomed for tragedy, simply in the way that they’re written. But I wanted to give them at least one happy ending. If I write more fics for them, they probably won’t be as happy, so I wanted to give them one universe where they could be happy together.
This fic could have gone in so many different directions, but I’m pretty content with how it turned out, I think. There’s a potential for me to write different fics in the same universe (deviations or just scenes I didn’t get to write) but I have so many ideas for new stuff that I doubt it’ll come soon.
I’m so thankful for everyone who supported this fic. Like seriously, if it hadn’t gotten as much attention as it did, I probably wouldn’t have even written anything beyond the first chapter or so. Your love is what made this possible, what allowed this story to be written. This is my first finished long term fic, EVER, and it’s something that feels so surreal to me.
Also if you’re confused on whether or not Orpheus and Nightmare are the same person in this fic honestly so am I. He will be much more present in my next fic, shoutout to my fredmare mutual

I’ll plug my shit one last time @ferrymansam on twitter and tumblr if you ever wanna send me your thoughts or keep up with what I’m working on next. Ily all so much, thank you.