Chapter Text
Steven doesn’t know who the child is. Over the past month or so, he’s caught glimpses of the sidelock hair and clean white garbs accompanied by quiet laughter and the feeling of being watched. It’s eerie, but he doesn’t really mind. Marc hasn’t mentioned it, and the child isn’t intruding in their lives, so he leaves it be.
There are more pressing matters, after all. From frequent blackouts to job hunting to mentally adjusting to everything that’s going on, Steven isn’t particularly eager to add another curveball to the list. He convinces himself that it’s nothing important, nothing related to Ammit or her cult still at large. It’s just a trick of the light or his sleep-addled brain messing with him more than usual.
Over here.
He tries so hard to ignore it.
He is ignoring it.
He’s ignoring the fact that the glimpses have since turned into full stares. That the child is too defined to be a mirage and the chatter too clear to be wind. That he’s not just watched but observed.
What does it want? Don’t engage, but what does it—?
Steven stops in his tracks and looks around.
Oh, would you look at that? He’s lost. Leave it to him to get caught up in his own thoughts and wind up on some street he doesn’t know.
Some street he doesn’t… Now, hold on. How did he get here?
He hasn’t walked that far. He didn’t miss any stops or blunder a turn. He was on his way home on a road he has long known, taking the same steps he took the day before, and the day before that. He’s sure of it.
He must have blacked out.
Someone else—it’s still strange to consider that there are others—took control. He still blacks out sometimes with Marc, but he’s usually around to share what happened. If not, there’s Layla or lingering emotions that help fill in the gaps.
Now, there’s nothing.
Right, well. Steven will get them home. He just needs a familiar street name or his trusty map app to get back on—
Aaaand he doesn’t have his phone on him. Great.
This way.
Something tugs him forward and nearly throws him off balance.
“Woah, that’s…”
The clouds above clear to illuminate the street, outshining the lamplights and filling the sky with constellations. A faint path stretches under the moon, leading off the main road to a small sidewalk. It’s beautiful, like a visual siren’s call. A will-o’-the-wisp.
Steven prods Marc but can’t reach him. He can’t ask if this is a side-effect of their time as an avatar or if he should be wary of the pull. Not that he has much of a choice here.
Unbidden, he takes a step. Then another. He doesn’t resist it, but he thinks he should. It feels like that day in the Alps when Steven first encountered Harrow, only the puppetry is done from without and not within. A call he follows rather than fights.
He starts walking both out of compulsion and free will. It’s a peculiar sensation.
A shadow passes beside him and he jumps.
Do not fear. You are safe.
Okay. Safe. Yeah. Just follow the yellow brick— uh, moon lit road.
Which leads to… a park? Given the time of night, no one’s there.
Steven walks over to the swings and sighs. He might as well. All the crazy in his life needs some sort of outlet once and a while, and indulging himself won’t do any harm.
He sits down.
Hello!
And scrambles off the swing.
Laughter.
The child is on the adjacent swing, leaning over his knees with a smile as Steven climbs back to his feet. He looks up at Steven, dark eyes empty with a void greater than his face allowed.
Alright, yeah. There’s no way he can ignore that.
Hi, Steven.
“How do you know my name?”
It’s a stupid question. This child is obviously a god. Egyptian by the style of hair and clothing. His skin is an odd shade, almost green. That, along with his obvious connection to the night, reminds Steven of…
“Khonshu?” As depicted by statues and paintings, at least.
The child nods. An aspect of him.
“Aspect?”
He scratches his head with his shepherd’s crook. Ah, Khonshu has three aspects to his name. Defender—the one you know—Watcher, and me!
Steven squints at the child, at Khonshu. At… “Traveler?”
Close. Pathfinder. We’re all Travelers.
The child kicks off the ground, moving back and forth like a pendulum. Rhythmic. Steady. Corporeal. And yet the lights phase through him as if he isn’t.
“Why did you call me here?”
Because Defender got overwhelmed and Jake couldn’t stay.
At the name, something rebels inside him. “Jake?”
The child gapes. You… don’t know Jake?
Before Steven could ask why he should, the boy floats off the swing and stops right in front of him.
After a tense staring contest, he lowers himself back on the swing. He’s a friend. I’m worried about him and Defender. There was so much to do when Watcher and I were gone.
Everything the child says sparks question after question.
Def didn’t say anything about us, did he.
“Not to me, no.”
But you are our Moon Knight, right?
Steven frowns. “Not anymore. Khonshu released us.”
The boy quirks a brow. Released you?
“Yeah, both of us.”
A beat passes as he stares at Steven, then groans into his palms. Of course he did. Of course he did. He breathes in and exhales slowly. Def’s always pushing too far, looking for loop— I swear, he acts more childish than me. And I’m a child!
Steven sees him flicker out.
I know, I know. But Def isn’t—
He flickers again.
Should Steven be doing something?
Okay, well… Steven should know. Marc too. You know how much it—
The third time he flickers, Steven spots feathers.
I know you’re mad at Def, Watch, but they’re not like Harrow. Steven—
“You’re like us.”
The child— no, Pathfinder turns to him with his mouth open, words falling out of his mouth before he settles with, Yes. That’s… what I meant by “aspects.”
“You have three identities.”
Same difference.
Steven approaches and, with an eager wave from Pathfinder to join him, sits on the swing. “Where were you when Ammit…” he gestures with his hands. “You know.”
Pathfinder nods sagely, which looks a tad humorous with the sidelock and youth. Harrow took a toll on us. He, um, hurt me. Def got scared and locked me and Watch away.
He stops swinging.
I felt him move the stars, he says in awe. That’s my job, but it never felt so big. I felt him struggle, and I felt… you.
Steven hums. He remembers that day. How can he not? He held the heavens with his hands and spun through 2,000 years of time. At that moment, he and Khonshu were connected, bound together by a link Steven now knows was never severed.
“What happened, then?”
We got imprisoned. We got out. Ammit got away. Def couldn’t keep the walls up anymore.
Sounds like Marc and him. “Why reach out to me?”
Pathfinder grins. Why not? You’re my avatar, my counterpart. The same way Marc is Def’s and Jake is W— oh. Right, um. He bites his lip and shrugs. I like you. You’re nice.
There’s that name again. “Who’s Jake? And how am I your avatar?”
Pathfinder opens his mouth to answer.
And Steven finds himself at home.
“What…?”
“Steven.”
He looks for a mirror, then stops when he realizes that wasn't Marc.
“Deja de buscar.”