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There was a certain quiet in the morning that let Mirabelle get lost in her own head. Sharing a tent with Bonnie used to be a lively affair, but the quiet that clung to them served to keep Mirabelle quiet in turn.
She ran through her anxious thoughts once more. She needed to collect the final Orb. She needed to return to Dormont, unlock the House, and face off against the King. She needed to keep what had happened to Siffrin from happening ever again.
Her quest was always on her mind, but a new anxiety had been introduced ever since Siffrin had protected Bonnie from that Sadness. She had been terrified that he hadn’t survived, and that it was, in part, her fault. She didn’t want to think about what would have happened had Siffrin not been there.
If only she had been closer to Bonnie, or faster, or better with Craft, Siffrin wouldn’t have had to lose an eye.
All she had been able to do was keep enough of Siffrin’s blood in his body to make sure they survived being brought to the nearest town. Her Craft hadn’t been strong enough to stop the bleeding entirely, unless she wanted to be carried to the nearest town, too.
And now, it was because of her and her doomed quest that Siffrin was back on the road so soon. They had gotten all of four days before the King’s curse encroached on their infirmary bed. He had insisted that it was fine, but Mirabelle didn’t believe him.
Why was Siffrin even traveling with her still? They had lost an eye, but the incident had made them more invested in her quest, not less. He needed to keep moving to not be frozen by the curse, but he didn’t need to keep moving with Mirabelle. Finding a path through Vaugarde to another country was also an option, as was letting himself be frozen.
Did people frozen in time still feel pain, or did freezing extend that pain to an eternal moment, only cut off the moment Mirabelle succeeded?
A sting of pain in her index finger told her she had bitten down to the quick of her nail.
She winced, took her finger out of her mouth, and started changing out of her nightclothes.
If Mirabelle had been asked to describe Siffrin, she would be hard-pressed to come up with anything beyond the surface. What was motivating them to go on this quest? Were they bored? They hardly said anything about themself without prodding, and they had such a mysterious aura that Mirabelle didn’t want to bombard them with questions they had been asked a thousand times before.
Which left her back at square one: She didn’t know anything about the one who had nearly sacrificed himself to save Bonnie.
Mirabelle had just finished readjusting the brooches on her capelet when the scream rang out.
Bonnie, still partially tucked into their sleeping bag, shot up and peeked out of the tent.
Mirabelle ran out, heart in her throat. Was the camp under attack? Whose scream was that? It was too high-pitched to be any of the others in her party, but only Isabeau was around, standing a few meters away from his tent. His hair was messy, he was in his nightclothes, and he was staring at the tent as if it were about to leap out and attack him.
“Isabeau?” Mirabelle approached, hand on her rapier. “What's going on? Did a Sadness get in?”
“Uh!” He squeaked before clearing his throat. “Well, maybe? I didn't get too good of a look.”
“Oh no, is it in the tent?” If something was attacking Siffrin, it was being awfully quiet about it.
Madame Odile came out of her tent and joined the group, Crafting book in hand. “What's happening?”
Isabeau smiled awkwardly. “I thought I saw something, but let me check again, I'm pretty sure it was nothing!”
“Wait, what do you think you saw?”
“It's kinda embarrassing, but--”
A darkless blur dashed out of the tent. Siffrin skidded to a stop in front of the party, spun on their heel, and unsheathed their dagger.
He was followed by Siffrin, Siffrin, Siffrin, and Siffrin.
“What are those things?” the dagger-wielding Siffrin asked.
Bonnie ran over and pointed at the group of Siffrins. “Why’re there five Frins???”
Madame Odile narrowed her eyes. “Is this some kind of Craft? There's too little in the air for this to be an illusion…”
“You’re seeing them too?” Isabeau asked.
“Everyone!”
The party and Siffrins turned towards Mirabelle.
“I-I think I know what's happening! They're really rare in Vaugarde, but these are Doppelgangers!”
Bonnie squinted. “I'm not even gonna try to say that.”
“It’s a little hard to pronounce, isn't it? That's because they're from another country. Sadnesses are made from negative emotions, but people’s ideas of what those emotions are change from place to place.”
“So, if these really are Doppelgangers, what emotion do they represent?” Madame Odile asked.
“Um, the fear of being replaced?”
A few of the Siffrins tucked themselves into their cloak collars.
“But don't worry, Siffrin!” Mirabelle clasped her hands together. “We won't let that happen! Doppelgangers have the ability to copy people, but that ability has a major weakness! They can only copy people based on the memories of others!”
“Is that why there’re five Sifs now? One for each of our memories of him, and the real Sif?”
Mirabelle nodded vigorously. Doppelgangers only used the memories other people had of their target. The memories one had of themselves were too numerous and contradictory for a Sadness to make sense of. The memories of others, however, hit a sweet spot: They were simple enough for a Sadness to process while being complex enough to deceive with.
They wouldn’t be fooled. Mirabelle and her party would find the real Siffrin!
“Is this really more important than getting the last Orb, though?” a Siffrin asked.
As fun as the idea of having a pack of Siffrins face down the King was, there was a good reason to not drag the situation out.
“If you let a Doppelganger live for too long, it'll always, um… fight the original person and try to take over their life,” Mirabelle finished in a single breath.
“Crab,” Isabeau swore.
“Crab,” Bonnie swore.
Madame Odile refrained from swearing. “Well, you seem to know the most about how these Doppelgangers work, Mirabelle. What do you suggest we do?”
“Hm… First, let's check for any differences in appearance. Siffrin-- um, Siffrins? Can you line up, please?” They should be kept together, if nothing else.
The dagger-wielding Siffrin breathed out a long sigh and sheathed his weapon. “Fine.”
He and the other Siffrins stood side-by-side in a line. They were being awfully cooperative. Was that cooperativeness a Doppelganger trait or a Siffrin trait?
“Are we calling them all Frin, now? That's confusing.”
“Boniface has a point. We could number them to tell them apart.”
Isabeau placatingly raised his hands. “Only if you're okay with it, Sifs!”
A few of the Siffrins shrugged. “That's fine,” one said.
“I know just the spell!” Mirabelle faced the first Siffrin in the line-up and drew a line in the air. A lightless number one appeared on their hat.
“Okay, you'll be Siffrin Un…”
“Just call me… Siffrun.”
“Hah!” Isabeau laughed.
Mirabelle continued numbering. “Siffrin Deux…”
“Are you sure this is safe, Mira?” they said through their teeth.
“We can figure this out together. Nobody has to get hurt.” Mirabelle assured them as much as she assured herself.
This was the Siffrin who had left the tent first. Did that mean anything, or was Mirabelle reading too deeply into it?
“Siffrin Trois…”
They tucked their chin into their cloak and looked away.
“Siffrin Quatre…”
“Thanks,” he said.
“And Siffrin Cinq.”
They didn't react at all to being numbered. Did that mean anything?
Mirabelle stepped back and looked over the line. “Well, there’s already a pretty easy to spot difference…”
Madame Odile gestured at the group. “Siffrin Deux is slightly taller, isn't he?”
Siffrin Deux squinted. “The others are just shorter.”
Mirabelle returned to Siffrin Deux and furrowed her brow. “We’re the same height now…”
“Mira, what are you saying? We've always been the same height.”
“We've always been the same height… when Siffrin’s in heels! But you're a little taller than me!”
Mirabelle drew her rapier and pointed it at Siffrin Deux. The other Siffrins took a few steps back.
“W-Wait!” Siffrin Deux raised their hands and stumbled back, tripping on nothing before correcting himself. “There’s four Sadnesses here, and you’re singling me out? Who’s going to protect you from them?”
“You're awfully concerned about this,” Madame Odile chimed in.
“Of course I'm concerned! I need to keep you all safe!”
“Siffrin Deux, I said that we could figure this out together, and I meant that. If you could just… stand over there, then…” Mirabelle gestured off to the side with her rapier.
“And leave you all with the Sadnesses? No, I can’t do that, I won’t!”
“You wouldn’t be leaving,” Isabeau said, “just moving a little. If we’ve made a mistake, then we’ll figure that out as we go!”
“No, no, no, I--”
“Are you stupid?!”
Mirabelle’s eyes widened as she turned towards Bonnie. They were trembling, and their hands were balled up into fists so tight, their knuckles were going light. Pinpricks of tears were gathering, too small to spill over.
“Just get out of the way! Do what everyone’s saying and get out of the way!”
Siffrin Deux stood his ground. “You, too? If anyone would get what I’m talking about, I thought it’d be you, Bonbon--”
“Don’t call me that! You don’t get to! Go stand somewhere else, or die like the stupid crabbing Sadness you are!”
“But I’m not a Sadness! Would a Sadness want to keep you safe? Look!” Siffrin’s eye shone, but no tears spilled over as he pointed to it. “I still have an eye to lose!”
Bonnie gasped.
That moment was the closest Mirabelle could get to being frozen in time.
The real Siffrin needed to talk to Bonnie when everything was said and done.
Siffrin Deux was a Doppelganger, but what was Mirabelle supposed to do? It would have been ideal if there was somewhere to keep the Doppelganger Siffrins, just in case Mirabelle got something wrong, but they were in the middle of the woods. Was killing it an option? Or would that be rude? Change, she was thinking of stabbing something that looked like Siffrin! The real Siffrin would get the completely wrong idea if she went through with it!
“...Can we kill it now, or…?” Siffrin Quatre asked.
“Please kill it,” Siffrin Trois said, chin tucked into their cloak collar.
Oh, okay, apparently the Siffrins wanted it dead!
“No, no, I--!”
Siffrin Deux’s body distorted and began melting into itself. The brim of his hat dripped onto his shoulders and body, which sagged and sank to the ground. Their darkless and lightless shades mixed together, smearing with their features until they became a swirl of midshades. All that was left was a quivering mass of emotion and Craft.
Stories didn’t do the real thing justice at all.
Siffrin Un swept in and stabbed it. The wound bubbled over then burst into goo like any other Sadness. Most of the remains evaporated instantly. The rest coated the grass in a filmy residue.
Siffrin Un breathed in, and out. They shook off the remaining Sadness goop from their dagger and tucked it back underneath their cloak. “They're pretty weak.”
Thank Change that was over. Mirabelle returned her rapier to its scabbard.
“It's a good thing it went back to its original form like that,” Isabeau sighed. “Hey, Bonbon?”
Bonnie scrubbed at their face and glared. “What?”
“Want some help with breakfast? Nobody’s eaten yet, and it'll be hard to figure all of this out on an empty stomach, so…”
“...You’re helping make the fire,” Bonnie said as they started walking back to their and Mirabelle’s tent. “We’re having a serious breakfast.”
They then stopped in their tracks. “How many people am I cooking for…?”
“Five!” Siffrin Un said. “You’ll figure this out before Bonnie’s done, right?”
Siffrin Quatre shrugged. “Nine?”
“Don’t bother cooking for any of us.” Siffrin Trois gestured to himself and the other Siffrins.
Bonnie pointed at Siffrin Cinq. “What do you think?”
He looked away. “Do what you want.”
“Maybe I will!”
Bonnie returned to the tent and came back out with their cookware as Isabeau started rekindling the campfire.
“Let's keep going,” Mirabelle said. “Deux’s height was what gave him up, but it doesn't look like we can use appearances anymore.”
The rest of the Siffrins were too similar in height to make any certain calls with. As for clothes, they all had on the same hat, cloak, and heeled boots. Siffrin’s outfit was simple. It made sense that everyone would remember it accurately. Mirabelle doubted that anyone would have a perfect memory of what Siffrin wore underneath his cloak, though, so that was out.
Which left… what, exactly?
Madame Odile drummed her fingers against the spine of her Crafting book. “We could ask them questions about our journey, but if they're going off of our memories, they'd answer correctly.”
“That might be true, but they have to answer like Siffrin would, right?”
“Right. We saw some differences in how they answered Boniface’s question. If we gather up enough of those differences, and we know how each of us sees Siffrin, we can find which one doesn't fit.”
“The real Siffrin.” Mirabelle nodded.
Madame Odile sighed. “If this had to happen to one of us, I'm relieved it was Siffrin. My Doppelgangers would have been talking over themselves this entire time.”
“Oh, that'd make a good question! Siffrins!”
The Siffrins startled.
“Why are you so quiet all the time? Please answer as honestly as possible! Starting with… Siffrin Cinq!”
They nudged their head down the reformed line of Siffrins. “Why not start with Un?”
“You haven't been talking very much, and I want to hear what everyone has to say!”
“...I got tired of it, I guess. Talking.”
How did someone get tired of talking? Mirabelle wanted to ask more questions and tug at the thread of that mystery, but she needed to get to the other Siffrins.
“Sure… Siffrin Quatre?”
“Also got tired.”
“Don't just copy their answer?!”
Siffrin Quatre shrugged.
“Mirabelle,” Madame Odile interjected, “why don't we pull them aside and ask them individually?”
“O-Oh! Um, that's a great idea, but Doppelgangers get aggressive when they're singled out. If we separate one, and we don't know if it's a Doppelganger, it could attack while pretending to be Siffrin.”
“...Got it. I'm not interested in fighting someone's idea of Siffrin if I don’t have to, so feel free to keep going.”
“Alright. Siffrin Trois?”
“Uh. I just don't have much to say.”
Mirabelle suppressed the urge to ask follow-up questions again. “Siffrin Un?”
“I'm used to it.”
Madame Odile, who had been prepared to take notes, closed her Crafting book and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Gems alive, they all gave the same answer.”
“What should we do, Madame?”
Madame Odile glanced at Isabeau and Bonnie. They were chatting, occupied with building the campfire back up.
“We need something more polarizing to ask them,” she said. “Siffrins. How did you react to losing your eye?”
“Madame?!?!”
“Let them answer, Mirabelle.”
It wasn't a question Mirabelle would have asked. It was rude, asking personal questions while the real Siffrin was somewhere in the shuffle. Even so, Madame Odile had a point. They weren't going to get anywhere if they only asked about shallow topics. Even if they didn't know much past the surface, there had to be a bigger difference to spot!
Mirabelle nodded. “Alright. Starting with… Siffrin Trois?”
Siffrin Trois’ eye widened in surprise. Was he shocked he had been chosen first? If he was, he shook it off quickly.
“I don't remember much. When I woke up, I thought I still had the eye. And when you told me I didn't, but that Bonnie was okay, I… It was a relief. That's all.”
Mirabelle dabbed at an eye. “Siffrin Un?”
Their mouth twisted into a sheepish shape. “You said not to copy, but it's the same for me. I remember asking about Bonnie first thing. I, uh, kind of freaked out before I heard they were okay? That's the only difference I can think of.”
Siffrin Trois glared daggers at Siffrin Un. They had never made that face in front of Mirabelle before. Siffrin Trois certainly wasn’t her Doppelganger.
“Siffrin Cinq?”
They turned their head such that they were in profile to Mirabelle, their eye patch covering their face. “Everything happened so quickly. I woke up, and I thought that I still needed to fight off that Sadness. You see a lot on the road, but that… It scared me.”
So mysterious! “Siffrin Quatre?”
Siffrin Quatre sighed. “The others are exaggerating. It really wasn't that big of a deal.”
Mirabelle blinked. The difference was obvious, but was Madame Odile looking for a Doppelganger or the real Siffrin?
“What about Boniface?”
“They turned out fine in the end. That’s what matters, right?”
Madame Odile extended her hand to Mirabelle. “And what do you remember from that day?”
“It’s true that Siffrin’s been keeping quiet about his injury, saying that it’s fine, a-and I’m really sorry if that’s because of me, but…”
“But?” Madame Odile gestured for more.
“But when they woke up, they looked terrified. I had never seen them like that before! Isabeau was trying to calm him down, make sure that he knew he was safe from the Sadness, but Siffrin didn’t seem to care about that at all. That was when he asked about Bonnie, and I told him that he saved them.”
“Huh.” Madame Odile made eye contact with Siffrin Quatre. “I didn’t know.”
Mirabelle gasped. “That’s right! You were with Bonnie when Siffrin woke up, and by the time we calmed him down and got you, he--!”
“He looked like he hadn’t been affected at all, to me. Like not even losing an eye fazed him.” Madame Odile tilted her head down. She fussed with her glasses chain, caught herself, and pulled her hand away.
“Losing an eye must be a horrible experience. You could have died. You almost did. For me to think that you could shake it off is insulting, to put it lightly.” Madame Odile’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Siffrin. I’ll apologize to you directly once we’ve dealt with your Doppelgangers.”
“Madame…”
Siffrins Un and Trois had tucked themselves back into their cloaks. Siffrin Cinq was turned away, and Siffrin Quatre…
Siffrin Quatre was dissolving back into his Sadness form. It melted slower than the first Doppelganger. Thick droplets of the liquid that made up Sadnesses fell to the ground and gathered themselves back up into a blob. Carefree until the end.
Mirabelle stopped herself. It was rude to look for symbolism in how the Doppelgangers gave up. At the end of the day, they were still trying to copy her friend.
“I’ve got this one!” She dashed forward and stabbed the blob with her rapier. Just like the first one, it bubbled up around the puncture wound until it lost shape and disintegrated. If this was how weak their real bodies were, it was no wonder why they took on stronger ones.
The new lineup formed. They were down to three Siffrins: Un, Trois, and Cinq. Mirabelle’s Doppelganger, Isabeau’s Doppelganger, and the real Siffrin. Siffrins Un and Trois had been acting similarly, and there was something about Siffrin Cinq that drew Mirabelle’s curiosity, but nothing was certain.
Was there a question only two out of three Siffrins had the answer to?
Downwind from the campfire, Mirabelle suddenly smelled oatmeal.
“Oh, you narrowed it down to three Sifs! Nice!” Isabeau cheered as he returned to the group.
Bonnie walked alongside him. “Za said to make enough for five, so you’re getting yours when we know which one of you is real, Frin.”
“Sorry,” Isabeau said, “but we don’t have enough food for all of you.”
The Siffrins shrugged, and one of them murmured, “It’s fine.”
Madame Odile rolled her shoulders. “Well, we’ve dealt with my Doppelganger, so I’m going to have my breakfast.”
“Wait, really?” Isabeau raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t picking out your own Doppelganger the hardest way of doing it?”
“I thought it was the easiest,” Madame Odile said before walking away.
“Wait, I gotta serve you the food! Whoever cooks the food serves the food!” Bonnie ran, catching up to and quickly overtaking Madame Odile to get to the campfire first.
Mirabelle hoped they didn’t come back in time for another Doppelganger breakdown. Even if they were all fakes, the idea of Bonnie seeing something shaped like Siffrin melt into Sadness goo again discomforted her.
Isabeau nudged his head towards the campfire. “Aren’t you gonna eat, Mira?”
“I’m not really hungry right now.” There were still two Doppelgangers left. They needed to be found and dealt with. The King’s curse wasn’t waiting around for Mirabelle to finish untangling the mess of a few Sadnesses.
“Yeah, that’s fair. Three Sifs left…” Isabeau pouted thoughtfully. “Got any ideas?”
“I had just been thinking about how Madame Odile found her Doppelganger. If there’s a question I can ask that only two of them can answer, then I’d like to try that, but…”
Mirabelle wasn’t sure how Madame Odile was able to come up with her question. She had always been a quick thinker, but she had made it look easy! Was there something Isabeau and Siffrin had done together that Mirabelle was aware of, but not enough to feed those memories to her Doppelganger?
How was she supposed to know about something like that?
Isabeau hummed. “Maybe instead of asking them questions, we can ask them to do stuff for us? Something the real Sif would know how to do, but we didn’t pay close attention to?”
“Oh! Good idea!” Mirabelle already had a task in mind! “Siffrins, could you carve something for us?”
The Siffrins startled. Siffrins Un and Trois’ cloaks shuffled as they searched through them.
Siffrin Cinq wasn’t moving at all. “I don’t like carving in front of people…”
Siffrin Trois froze. “Um. I know how this looks, but I don’t have my carving tools on me. Honest.”
Siffrin Un let out a long sigh and rolled their eye. “I have mine, but there’s no point if it’s just me.”
“I-It’s okay, never mind,” Mirabelle said.
Isabeau patted Mirabelle on the shoulder. “I thought it was a good question!”
It was a bust, but each Siffrin had responded differently. There had to be a pattern in their differences. There had to be something!
Isabeau suddenly gestured for Mirabelle and leaned in. Mirabelle got closer, creating a group huddle of two.
“I have an idea,” Isabeau whispered, “but I can’t tell you what it is. Can I give it a shot?”
“Sure???”
“Okay! Thanks! Just keep doing what you’re doing!” Isabeau smiled as he pulled away. He rocked on his heels with his hands behind his back.
Mirabelle had no idea what Isabeau was planning, but she hoped it worked out. He was surprisingly good at solving tough problems in a pinch. That didn’t mean she should leave all the work to him, though. She needed to find her own Doppelganger, or better yet, spot the real Siffrin!
She needed to—
Isabeau suddenly drew back his fist. When had he put on his glove? Why was he attacking?!
“KABOOM!!!”
Was Isabeau attacking the Siffrins?!
Two of the Siffrins said something, but the specific word rushed out of Mirabelle’s head like water weathering a stone.
Isabeau threw a punch to the ground, but he came to a stop with a sliver of air between his knuckles and the dirt. Only a puff of aimless Rock Craft came out of the crystals on his glove. Beaming widely, he stood back up and disarmed himself.
He… faked them out?
“Change, I’m glad that worked! It would’ve been really awkward if it hadn’t. Mira,” Isabeau smiled at her as if he hadn’t just given her a heart attack, “did the Sifs say anything?”
“They did! They said… um, it was one word… I-I don’t think I heard it right, but Siffrin Un and Siffrin Trois definitely said something!”
“Nice! So, Sif Cinq, what’d you say?”
Siffrin Cinq bristled. “I didn’t say anything. Why does this even matter?”
“I’m glad you asked! This is, uh, also kinda embarrassing, but there was something I noticed about the real Sif. There’s a word he says when he’s annoyed or something bad happens. It took a while for it to even stick in my brain! I had never heard anything like that before, so I wanted to know more, and I found out that it’s…”
Mirabelle leaned in. “It’s…?”
“It’s stars.”
The sound had reached Mirabelle that time, but there wasn’t any meaning to it. Was it from a foreign language? Siffrin did have a unique accent—something about his r's and u's were different, but not in a way other travelers' accents tended to be.
While Mirabelle had been thinking, Siffrins Un and Trois had started blushing.
Isabeau clutched at his arm in lieu of a sleeve. “Ahahah, um, well! There’s that! Sorry for scaring you guys, but I figured if anything would get you to use that word, it’d be something happening all of a sudden!”
And it had happened to all of the Siffrins at once, so they didn’t have a chance to copy each other! Isabeau had gotten lucky!
Siffrin Cinq’s posture stiffened, but he stood his ground. “I could’ve chosen not to curse. Why are you singling me out over something so minor?”
Siffrin Un’s eye went wide.
Siffrin Trois tilted their head such that half of their face was obscured by shadow.
Isabeau sucked in air through his teeth.
It all clicked together for Mirabelle. “By itself, whether or not you chose to swear isn’t much, but all of this talking afterwards, and everyone's reactions… That’s information we can work with too!”
Isabeau nodded. “Mira, I’m guessing you didn’t know about any of this star stuff?”
“Not at all! Which makes you,” Mirabelle turned to Siffrin Cinq, “my Doppelganger!”
Siffrin Cinq narrowed his eye at Mirabelle, but the brim of his hat was already deforming. “So this is how you see me.”
Come to think of it, Siffrin Cinq had looked more mysterious to her than the other Siffrins. There were parts of him she knew about, but did she really focus that much more on the parts kept hidden? Or, rather, the parts she had never asked about?
The Siffrins had been forthcoming when answering everyone’s questions. A little too forthcoming, at times. It might have been because of the circumstances, but if Mirabelle were to ask more about Siffrin, would he answer?
Everyone was going to need a talk with Siffrin after this.
“I got it.” Siffrin Trois stabbed the Doppelganger before it had the chance to completely deform. With half of Siffrin’s face intact, it burst and disintegrated.
Two Siffrins left.
Both Siffrin Un and Siffrin Trois had killed a Doppelganger, so that information was useless to Mirabelle. Did it matter that one waited while the other hadn’t? If so, which was more like Siffrin?
That line of questioning was beyond Mirabelle, but she had a different question she wanted to ask.
“By the way,” she raised her hand, “what is a star?”
Isabeau hummed before his expression went blank. “...I don’t really know! Let’s ask! Hey, Sifs, what’s a star?”
“They’re what you see in the night sky!” Siffrin Trois jolted, standing like a student about to give a presentation. “They look like dots to us, but that’s just because they’re so far away. They’re actually giant, and they’re made of gas and light and fire, which is why they’re so bright.”
“The sun is also a star,” Siffrin Un pointed in the direction of the morning sun, “and it’s big enough that it caught our planet in its orbit. That orbit is why we have years, and the tilt of the planet is why we have seasons.”
Siffrin Trois spun on his heels and gave Siffrin Un a look, hidden from Mirabelle by the brim of his hat. Judging by Siffrin Un’s glare, it wasn’t a nice one.
The Siffrins might have understood what they were saying, but Mirabelle didn’t get a word.
Both explanations were equally unlikely!
How could something bigger than the world exist? How could something outside of the world exist? Wouldn’t something made out of gas and fire burn itself out eventually? Did Siffrin Un mean to say the world when they were talking about the planet?
It had to have been part of a mythology only they knew about, but one of the Siffrins was Isabeau’s Doppelganger. It was working off of Isabeau’s memories of trying to learn more about stars. Which meant that hearing about them might have jogged his memory!
Mirabelle clasped her hands together. “Did any of that sound familiar to you, Isabeau?”
“Y’know, I thought it would! Sif talked about the sky once, and it sounded like he knew what he was talking about! It really left an impression on me! But now that I’m trying to think about the specifics… nothing comes to mind. It’s like someone grabbed my brain and rinsed all the thoughts out of it!”
Mirabelle squeezed her hands tighter. “...So we don’t have a way of proving any of this, do we?”
“I was hoping one explanation would sound better than the other, but I can’t tell…! I’m sorry, Sif…! I’ve failed you…!”
“You really haven’t,” Siffrin Un said, tucking his chin into his cloak.
Siffrin Trois let out a long breath. “It’s fine, Isa.”
Isabeau groaned and took on an exaggerated thinking pose. “There’s gotta be something. Mira, is there anything you and Sif know about that I don’t?”
Was there? Mirabelle pressed her fingertip to her mouth.
“Nails.” “Nails.”
“Thanks, Siffrins.” Mirabelle lowered her hand. “Anyway, um, there might be something? I’m going to have to be a little vague, though.”
Isabeau smiled. “It’s worth a shot!”
“Okay! Siffrin, the real Siffrin, we did something the other day. Something with… personal grooming? It was before, um.” Mirabelle tapped directly underneath her left eye. “Do you remember?”
Siffrins Un and Trois’ eyes narrowed.
Blades of grass shuffled in the breeze.
“Okay, I’m going to take that as a no,” Mirabelle said.
What was she thinking, asking about something as forgettable as Siffrin helping with her hair? It had been a surprise when they offered, but they had taken to her curls like a natural. He must have worked with hair a million times before.
Did she really know Siffrin this little? Their Doppelganger needed to be found before it attacked! Having only one around made for an easier fight, if it came down to that, but how awful would that be? If it were Mirabelle in Siffrin’s boots, she would have thought that her friends didn’t pay attention to her at all!
Waiting until the Doppelganger attacked wasn’t an option.
Mirabelle couldn’t make a call based on which one was Siffrin. What if she made a call based on which one was a Doppelganger? The stories varied on how long it took for Doppelgangers to replace their victims, but other traits were so common, they had to be reflected in their real-life versions.
Isabeau stepped closer to Mirabelle. “Mira--”
Siffrin’s voice. “We could fight.”
Mirabelle stood up straight fast enough to make her brooches ding. She had been looking at the ground. Which Siffrin said that?
Siffrin Trois rolled his eye. “Sounds like a Doppelganger thing to say.”
“That’s a Doppelganger thing to say,” Siffrin Un hissed.
“You blinding--”
“I get that this is frustrating,” Isabeau cut in, “but let's take a minute to calm down, yeah? We can figure this out.”
“Are you stuck?” Madame Odile approached the group, Bonnie in tow.
Bonnie crossed their arms. “You should eat. Everyone knows you can’t think on an empty stomach.”
Mirabelle groaned. She had been hoping to find the real Siffrin quickly, but she didn’t know them well enough to tell them apart from a Sadness. What kind of friend was she?
Admitting temporary defeat, she nodded. “You’re right, Bonnie. I-I hope you don’t mind us eating, Siffrins…?”
Siffrin Trois pouted. Cute???
Siffrin Un huffed. “It’s fine.” Also cute???
Mirabelle and her party, plus a Siffrin, walked to the campfire and sat around it. Each party member was roughly equally spaced, save for the Siffrins, who sat farther apart from each other.
Was it a bad sign that they weren’t getting along? One of them was a Doppelganger trying to steal the real Siffrin’s life, but at the moment, it was doing its best to copy Siffrin. His mannerisms, his speech, everything. It was doing a good job of it, too!
But if it were Mirabelle who had woken up to four Doppelgangers of herself, she would have hated every minute. Even if a Doppelganger acted mostly like her, there were still certain things she would never say, and there were still certain things she would never do. Everyone else didn’t have constant access to her mind, so they wouldn’t know about her true feelings about her faith. They would have no idea about her opinions on romance and how they differed between real life and fiction. They wouldn’t know about…
…Needless to say, she sympathized with Siffrin. Even if Isabeau’s Doppelganger got a lot of the little details right, she was sure there were flaws present that the real Siffrin was spotting with ease.
She needed a question to cut through the little details and get at the core of Siffrin.
“Belle.” Bonnie nudged Mirabelle’s shoulder with a bowl of oatmeal.
“Oh! Thank you, Bonnie.” Mirabelle accepted the bowl and a spoon.
“No thinking about the Frins ‘til after you’ve eaten. Cooker’s orders.”
“Chef’s orders,” Odile corrected, following up on the adorable running gag they had started a couple of weeks ago.
Bonnie nodded sagely. “Chef’s orders.”
Had Mirabelle been that obvious? There was a knot forming between her brows from how much she was furrowing them. Taking a spoonful of oatmeal and blowing on it before taking a bite, she chanced a glance at the Siffrins while Bonnie was serving Isabeau.
Bonnie must have reused either their utensils or Odile’s, because both Siffrins had their own meals. Steam rose from each bowl. Splitting between two was less of a waste than five, but the real Siffrin was bound to be upset regardless. He always ate quickly, as if whatever food he had would vanish if he didn’t rush.
Between that fact and his memory issues was a conclusion Mirabelle didn’t want to draw.
If questions like “where are you from?” and “how old are you?” were too much for them to divulge, it was impossible for Mirabelle to try and dig deeper. He was keeping his distance. That had been working out just fine for him, up until he was targeted by Doppelgangers.
Siffrins Un and Trois each took bites of breakfast, and both of them filled their cheeks before swallowing.
They were like hamsters…!
“Isabeau. You even noticed something like that?” Odile spoke with a teasing tone, but Mirabelle didn’t get it. If anything, Mirabelle was impressed.
“It’s a memorable way for someone to eat!” Isabeau said between bites. “Don’t judge me!”
“It is, but your surprisingly good memory makes our job harder. Siffrin’s other Doppelgangers were easier for us to pick out, but we won’t be able to pull the same tricks with yours.”
Isabeau blushed. “M’dame, that’s a nice thing for you to say and all, but there’re definitely ways of telling apart my idea of Sif from the real deal.”
“I think…” Mirabelle chimed in, “whatever it is we ask them next, their answer will need to be something we all agree sounds like Siffrin. It can’t be something we all already know about, though…”
The party plus a Doppelganger lapsed into silence.
What kind of question would get at the core of Siffrin?
“Where are you from?” “What was your family like?” “Why are you here in Vaugarde?” They were personal, which would make for contrasting answers, but they were almost too personal. Mirabelle didn’t want Siffrin to think she was trying to take advantage of the situation to find out more about them. There was a reason he kept so much of his life private, be it a personal preference or some aspect of his culture. Mirabelle wanted to respect that!
Even so, finding and taking care of their last Doppelganger was surely more respectful.
“Thoughts?” Madame Odile gestured to Mirabelle.
Mirabelle fumbled with her suddenly empty bowl and set it aside. “Um! What if… a-and either of you can say no to this, Siffrin Un and Siffrin Trois, but what if we asked about your past? None of us know anything about it, so that’s information that your Doppelganger can’t possibly have. We’ll be able to tell your actual life apart from something Isabeau could only guess about, right?”
Siffrin Un shrunk into his cloak. “...Okay. If that’s what it takes.”
Siffrin Trois shifted in place. “What about, specifically?”
“A story from your childhood? I-It doesn’t have to be anything super personal! It just has to be enough for us to make a call on which one of you is the Doppelganger.”
Which wasn’t a good bar to set, but Mirabelle was hoping once she heard the stories, one of them would pop out as being unmistakably Siffrin’s. Or, at least, one of them would pop out to Isabeau as lining up with his mental image of Siffrin.
“It’s worth a try,” Odile said.
“This has probably been a trip for you, Sif, but we’re almost there!” Isabeau cheered, though his blush was lingering. Was he that embarrassed?
Mirabelle sighed. “Alright. Starting with Siffrin Un, could you tell us a story from your childhood?”
“...I don’t think there’s much there to tell a story about. I mostly kept to myself. I spent a lot of time outside, I guess."
Siffrin Un then straightened up and snapped their fingers. "Oh, one time, when I was little, I got lost in the woods!"
"How long were you lost for?" Mirabelle asked.
"A few days?"
Isabeau sputtered. "How old were you?"
"Uh. Don't remember? A little younger than Bonnie is now, maybe."
Odile leaned in slightly. "Did you find your way back home, or did someone else find you?"
"Every time I went out, my parents told me not to get lost, but if I did get lost, I should stay put until someone found me. So, I stayed put. It was kinda like camping. I ate what I foraged and killed time climbing trees until the grown-ups found me."
Bonnie narrowed their eyes. "You were all alone in the woods, and you weren't scared?"
"Not really?" Siffrin Un shrugged. "There wasn't a lot to be scared of. I knew I'd be found."
"Well, it's a good thing you were," Mirabelle said. It was safer to talk as if the story was real. Getting lost in the woods and not even being worried about it certainly sounded like something Siffrin would do. But was Mirabelle falling for the same trap Madame Odile had? There were things Siffrin was worried about, but would being alone for a few days be one of those things?
Mirabelle turned to ask if anything Siffrin Un said was familiar to Isabeau, but he was looking away. Either he was already embarrassed, or he was bracing himself for embarrassment.
She needed more information. She prayed Siffrin Trois would deliver.
“Siffrin Trois?” Mirabelle asked.
They hadn't moved much while Siffrin Un had been speaking. They were staring into the middle distance even after Mirabelle spoke. The shade of their pupil looked lighter than it should have.
“Um, Siffrin Trois?”
“Huh?” They startled and rapidly blinked whatever fog had come over them out of their eye.
“...Could you tell us a story from your childhood?”
“I don’t…” They took in a shallow breath. “I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
He was breathless, as though he had just run a marathon. “Up until now, it’s been fine. I didn’t think it’d go this smoothly. When I woke up, I thought I was in some kind of nightmare. Maybe I am? I don’t know, but how am I supposed to compete with something like that?”
Siffrin Trois outstretched his arm to Siffrin Un, who tucked their chin into their cloak in response.
“I can’t answer your question, Mira,” he said. “I can’t.”
With those words, one of the weights on Mirabelle’s shoulders lifted.
She hadn’t expected her question to work out so well! She had been so worried about needing to wait until the Doppelganger attacked! The talks everyone needed to have after were still on her mind, but they would be easier than what they had just been through. They had to be.
Mirabelle drew her rapier.
Siffrin Trois froze. Their pupil was down to a pinprick, and the bottom of their cloak shook from something other than the breeze. Was he trembling?
Oh, no, was he scared?
“Siffrin, it’s okay! I’m sorry that it had to come to this, but you don’t have to worry anymore!
“Siffrin Un!” Mirabelle pointed her rapier at the pins on their cloak. “You’re Isabeau’s Doppelganger!”
Siffrin Trois breathed in, and out.
Siffrin Un startled. “Huh? I answered the question, didn’t I?”
“You did! You gave us a very touching answer. I’m sorry that it’s not real.”
“What??? No, I’m not lying, I--”
“I didn’t say you were lying. I’m saying none of it’s real. You tried to answer, even though you couldn’t have truly known any of that from Isabeau’s memories and impressions.”
“And I’m saying that’s because I got it from my memories!”
“You did! You’ve been doing everything you can to prove you’re the real Siffrin. All of the Doppelgangers have been. But there’s one more thing about Doppelgangers I never mentioned to anybody. They always want to prove themselves! They’ll never give up pretending, not in a million years!”
“And Sif…”
“Siffrin couldn’t answer,” Odile said.
“But you could,” Mirabelle finished.
“Oh.” Siffrin Un’s shoulders fell with the realization. “But…”
Something darkless and absent settled in his eye. Stilted, as if his bones had already melted from the inside, he swiveled and leveled his gaze at the real Siffrin. His body hunched over, pulled down to the ground uncannily.
“But I was so close. I answered everything they asked! Even if it wasn’t real, it was something. They should have picked me.”
His chest gave way to the point of Mirabelle’s rapier.
“No, we shouldn’t have.”
The Doppelganger melted around the blade in its body, losing detail as it went. It became nothing but the shimmering half-liquid of a Sadness, then as it melted into the dirt and evaporated into the air, it became nothing at all.
It was over.
They had found the real Siffrin!
Mirabelle wanted to celebrate, but she took one look at Siffrin and held back the urge. He was staring right at where his last Doppelganger had melted. It wasn’t hard for her to guess what he was thinking. She wouldn’t have gone for such a risky move if she hadn’t been completely sure she was attacking a Doppelganger, but did Siffrin know that?
“I need to lay down,” they said before lowering themself onto the grass.
“But it’s still morning???” Bonnie shouted.
“Nah, he’s earned some floor time after all of that,” Isabeau said.
Odile grinned. “I’m there with you in spirit. Laying on the ground would ruin my back.”
With the anxiety of needing to deal with Siffrin's Doppelgangers out of the way, the new anxiety of needing to apologize took its place.
Mirabelle knelt down next to Siffrin and clasped her hands. “Ahh, Siffrin, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you like that! I thought it was obvious you were real after we asked for those stories!”
Siffrin hurriedly sat up, adjusting his hat as he did. “Mira, it’s okay, really. It all worked out in the end, right?”
“It did, but I’m still sorry.”
“As long as we’re getting our apologies out of the way, I’m sorry, too,” Odile said. “It’s good to get to say that directly to you, and not a Sadness with your face.”
Isabeau rubbed the back of his neck. "Me too. Everything was already awkward, and I wasn't exactly helping towards the end."
"It's not any of your faults, though? You were all busy…" Siffrin glanced at Isabeau and started grinning. "Sifting through Doppelgangers."
"Bad," Mirabelle said. Even so, she was glad Siffrin was back. Not that he had gone anywhere, but he might as well have.
"Terrible," Madame Odile commented at the same moment Isabeau barked out a surprised laugh.
Bonnie sat in place, arms crossed and head lowered. The sight tugged at Mirabelle's heart, but there wasn't much she could do.
There also wasn't much she could do about the impending curse. If only she had more time to talk with everyone, more time to have let Siffrin heal, more time before everything but her was cursed to have infinite time.
Mirabelle had her party. As they wound down from the Doppelganger incident and began the familiar routine of breaking up camp, she hoped they would be enough.
Under the time limit of Mirabelle's quest, the daylight hours were for traveling or questing. Given how dangerous even the unfrozen trails were, they didn’t make for the best environment to talk about what had happened. Everyone needed to be on their guard.
It was only when the light grew dim that Mirabelle’s party made camp. They were deep in rural Vaugarde, with the nearest villages too far off-course from the Orb to justify going to. Despite the months she had spent with company, the memory of Mirabelle quietly starting a campfire by herself was still fresh. Was it selfish of her to prefer listening to everyone working and chatting? Her quest had been doomed when she first received it, but having Isabeau, Madame Odile, Siffrin, and Bonnie with her gave her a hope against that doom.
She needed to talk to Siffrin. Her mind was going to spin around in circles until she did.
Going through the motions until everyone, herself included, had retired to their tents, Mirabelle sat up.
There was a certain quiet in the night that let Mirabelle get lost in her own head. Siffrin had been smiling and joking around as usual throughout the day, but Mirabelle didn’t want to take that as confirmation that she didn’t need to do anything. Talking was still the right thing to do. “I’m sorry” was easy to say, but a real apology needed an assurance alongside: a promise that what had happened wouldn’t happen again.
Mirabelle doubted another Doppelganger invasion was on the table, but that wasn’t what she was worried about.
Over the course of her travels with Siffrin, she had repeatedly made the mistake of thinking they wanted to be distant. If there was something else stopping him, some barrier keeping him from reaching out, then wasn’t it on Mirabelle to reach beyond it?
The long day had tired Bonnie out. They were tucked away in their sleeping bag and snoring softly. A quick rustle of the tent flap wouldn’t wake them up.
Mirabelle slipped out only to spot Siffrin laying on the ground near the campfire pit. What were they doing out so late?
Her footsteps were quiet, but not so quiet that Siffrin wouldn’t hear. He had taken off his hat, so rather than the brim of it moving, it was Siffrin tilting his head towards her that told Mirabelle he was awake.
“Hello,” Mirabelle whispered when her feet were next to their head.
Siffrin made a sound of acknowledgement and straightened out their neck.
“Mind if I sit here?”
They shook their head.
So quiet! Mirabelle smoothed out her sleep gown and sat down, hoping she didn’t get too many grass stains on it. How did Siffrin’s cloak stay so darkless when they were constantly laying down in it? She shelved the question for later. She hadn’t disturbed Siffrin in the middle of the night to ask him for laundry tips.
“Um. I don’t know if now is a good time,” Mirabelle admitted, “but could we… talk? About the Doppelganger incident?”
“What about it?” Siffrin asked, still looking straight up.
“Well… I still feel bad. I know I said sorry, and everyone else did too, but that doesn’t really mean much, does it?”
Siffrin said nothing.
“I-I’m not saying our apologies were fake, but, um… It’s hard to believe an apology when you don’t know if what happened is going to happen again, isn’t it?”
“Like more Doppelgangers showing up?”
“Not that. They’re already pretty rare. I’d think another curse had been placed on Vaugarde if we saw more than one group… I meant not knowing you.”
Siffrin made a questioning sound.
Mirabelle rested her hands in her lap and fidgeted with her fingers. “I don’t think I’ve been a very good friend to you. I had to use what I knew about Doppelgangers to find the real you, not what I actually knew about you.”
“But if you knew more about me, they would’ve been better at copying me?”
“That’s true, b-but!” Mirabelle jumped up to a normal volume before she pulled herself back down to a whisper. “If I knew more about you, we could’ve used those memories to find my Doppelganger faster. And it's nice to get to know someone without needing to tell them apart from a Sadness.”
"…I guess, but I…"
Siffrin opened their mouth by a fraction. Their pupils went glassy, and without closing their mouth back up, whatever tension had been between their brows relaxed into a smooth nothingness. Was it some kind of Craft, or were Siffrin's thoughts having that much of an effect on him by themselves?
“I still can't.”
He wasn't saying he didn't want to.
He was saying he couldn't.
To travelers, Vaugardians were open books, but Mirabelle had only discovered this over the course of her journey. Was she being rude by forcing her idea of friendship down Siffrin's throat? Was she reminding him of a cultural barrier too wide to cross?
Or was she using those fears to justify keeping someone she called a friend at a distance?
“...Are there things you can share?”
“Huh?”
“I mean, I'm sure your idea of what's personal is different from mine, but there are still things you talk about. Maybe, before we get to Dormont, we could talk more? Is that something you’d like to do?”
Siffrin’s breathing was even. Over the sound of it and Mirabelle’s own breathing, the beat of her heart was pounding in her ears.
“...Yeah. I’d like that.”
"Oh! Oh, that's great, Siffrin," Mirabelle whispered, toeing the line between keeping quiet and showing her excitement. "Um, we don't have to started on that right away, obviously. It's pretty late. I only wanted to talk about this now because I had been thinking about it so much."
Siffrin hummed. At some point, his eye had closed, and as he opened it, he pulled himself up to a sitting position. Bits of leaves were stuck to the back of their cloak. They brushed them off, and despite having laid on the grass, there weren't any stains left behind. Change, it had to be some kind of Craft. Mirabelle needed to ask about it at some point. She was too curious not to.
Later, though. Mirabelle yawned, and a few seconds later, Siffrin yawned back, their jaw popping with the motion.
"Sorry," Mirabelle said. "I'll let you get some sleep. We have another day of travel ahead of us, but the Orb is staying still. Hopefully, in a couple of days, we'll all get to sleep in real beds."
Siffrin nodded.
Mirabelle moved to stand. "Well, good night--"
"Wait, Mira. Can I ask you something?"
Mirabelle stopped moving. "Sure?"
"…When I couldn't tell you a story about myself, was that all you needed to know? A couple of the Doppelgangers didn't do everything they were asked, either. What made that different?"
"There are layers to it, I guess? Like when I asked for them to carve something, they didn't refuse to do it completely. They said things they thought would sound like you. If I pressed more, I probably could've gotten them to, and we'd have found you so much faster, but…" Mirabelle scrubbed at her face. "There are a lot of ways I would have done this differently."
"Oh."
"So, it was that, and there was something Siffrin Un said that stuck with me. I didn't realize it then, but when he told that story, and when he said 'I knew I'd be found,' that wasn't right, either. Doppelgangers target people afraid of being replaced. To say that in another way… Doppelgangers target people afraid of not being found."
Siffrin stayed silent.
Did they think if they spoke up about their eye, Mirabelle would have found some way to replace them?
Were his inner feelings about going on this quest with Mirabelle so strong, they had attracted Doppelgangers right to him?
Mirabelle wouldn't know unless Siffrin told her.
"This is obviously really personal," Mirabelle said, "and you don't have to explain it to me at all, but… It wouldn't have been better if some Doppelganger had taken your place. We care about you, okay? We wouldn't have gotten this far without you. So, no matter what, even after we go our separate ways, I want you to remember that."
Siffrin's pupil went glassy again, but the paleness from before wasn't there. Neither was the blank expression they had had. Rather, they smiled softly, letting their eye crinkle.
"Thanks, Mira. I will."