Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“... Then when I got back from the shop, I realized they, uh, didn't actually ring up a couple of things. Like I said, they were tired, so… Anyway, I guess that means I stole some apples? Sorry.”

The shk shk shk of wood being carved was nice alongside the recorder’s voice. Originally, you only bothered to look at this channel because a friend of yours mistook them as you! How weird! Because you don't carve. Not anymore, at least, you've Crafted some of your hand scars away in favor of controlling your appearance.

You have to admit though; he does have a very similar voice. If you started a channel telling stories over videos of origami folding, you'd probably get mistaken as him too. Although you at least try to sound interesting when you talk.

Despite that, you're a fan. Their stories were boring retellings of their day, but they make nice background noise, and their carvings are beautiful works of art. The wood sounds might also have a more genuine ASMR element to you? This is certainly the first time it's ever worked on you.

Once he's done staining the little wolf statue a dark shade, he wipes up the table to the point that it's jarring to see it so clean. “Uh, oh, right. I'm heading to the art fair in my area tomorrow. I'll be selling a few of these carvings if you're interested. Um… In Dormont, Vaugarde, if my language wasn't obvious but I know I have an accent– Anyway, bye.”

As always, the video awkwardly cuts off. That's maybe the worst part…

Didn't Mira schedule your hangout tomorrow for an art fair? She was going to look for some hand-bound fanfiction or something.

Curious, you check the video’s upload date. Half an hour ago! Stars, you're quick with it, huh? Unfortunately for you, WoodCarverrr is decently popular so you don't get to put a cheeky little “first” comment. Most of those comments seem to be from a different country entirely, though, (the curse of the internet, really: Some northern hemisphere country practically rules it.) and even the few Vaugardian ones don't know where tiny little town Dormont is. He's not going to get much of anything sold based on popularity alone!

… Hm…

You send Mira a quick text that you'll need some help looking for wood carvings. She seems ecstatic you're taking an actual interest in the fair. It's not that you weren't interested before! It's just… Well, looking around your small apartment, there's a little too much empty space, you never know when you're going to pack up and leave. Paintings and books and pottery would be bad to carry.

That wolf statue is small, though!

The next day, you and Mira are in the center of a relatively crowded fair. There's an abundance of stalls selling products of art or the service of creating your own. You're in the prettiest thing you own; a flowy sundress with a wide hat. Not your preference, but impressions matter in public!

As you're pulled along the many stalls, you realize a fatal flaw in your plan to support a local artist: They've never shown their face on camera. The best guess you have is that they're pale, and as far as you know they just have vitiligo and only their hands are pale. What else could identify them…

He isn't Vaugardian, he's mentioned a few times, and he sounds like you. Unless he suddenly has the courage to shout and advertise his stuff, this information is useless to you.

“Siffrin?” Mira stops dragging you down the path as she looks at another friend of hers in the distance. Which is fine! She can have friends you don't know about!! She has so many!!! It's not like you're the only person she can bring to the fair because she only invited you!!!

(Get a grip, Loop!)

“Mira?” Your own voice calls. Your mouth didn't open.

Oh, stars, no…

When she recommended their channel, she neglected to mention that she was personally friends with them. She also neglected to mention that they look EXACTLY LIKE YOU!!!

You angrily gesture between yourself and the disheveled clone neatly placing carvings on his stall. Mirabelle giggles and shrugs. “I kept forgetting to tell you! I'm sorry! I-I also didn't want to assume anything?? I figured if you didn't know them already then you probably… Weren't related???”

“Ew.” This apparent Siffrin responds. “I mean, no offense to you, it's just weird to think I would have any relatives. And we aren't super alike…”

Is he blind–

Well, yes apparently, half at least. Funny, you are too. You fold your arms impatiently anyway. “Seriously? Exact face and voice aren't super alike? You're funny–” Stars, you… Really don't want to say his name. You actually used to go by it, based off of a favorite play of yours, which isn't uncommon. People in Vaugarde take their names from fictional stories in a pinch all the time.

Weird coincidence that they have it. “Stardust.” You settle for. It just seems right, like sawdust! For the carving!

They grin really wide. “Stardust? So we have the same belief too? Anyway, we’re not identical or anything, you have different eyes and brows and stuff… Now that I'm thinking about it, I think you also have wider shoulders than me? And, um, less muscles, but I do a lot of hunting, and–”

You turn away and wave him off, hiding your embarrassed blush. “OKAY!!! That's enough pointing out my body in public, please!!! Just– Just give me one of those. I… I actually saw your stuff before, so, uh, I'm interested. In it. I saw yesterday’s video.”

Mirabelle steps in front of you like a precious guard. “I saw it too! Do you have that wolf for sale? Lo– I was really interested in it.”

Oh, Mira…

S… Stardust nods and hands it over. The exact one from the video, ferocious and rearing back on its hind legs. “Free of charge for a friend. I can also carve you whatever you want, Mira, as long as I can record it.”

“Why do you do that, anyway? You don't seem like the clout-chasing type.” You throw your voice over your shoulder at them.

They just shrug. “It's basically a video diary. I lost a lot of my memory a few months ago, so keeping my hands busy and reminding myself of the day keeps things in. And if I ever forget something I can just go back to a recording.”

That's… Really interesting, actually. “But… Public recordings?”

“I don't have a lot of video storage so once I have a week uploaded I deleted them… Can… Can they be private?”

“Aw, Siffrin…” Mirabelle sighs. “I should get you a flash drive… And you can! Private them! But I think everyone's been really nice so far anyway? And they're relaxing! So I definitely wouldn't mind if you kept it up!”

Neither would you. “Does it work? What's your first memory without having to watch back what you said…?”

Stardust thinks on it for a while. “I guess… I woke up while traveling once, in the forest just outside Corbeaux? Late-winter.”

That's…

Didn't you do the same thing?

Didn't you… Pray… For something around then?

Oh no.

Chapter Text

You don't know what you got yourself into.

Actually, you never really know what you're getting into before you start. It was too exciting! A real chance to look at the stars as close as you physically could! Your family always knew the scientific aspects of stars, that they weren't all too different from your sun, from your planet. Chemicals and heat and light. Things that float in deep space, always circling something else.

And yet it still felt like you're a piece of dust getting in one of the Universe’s many many many eyes. Something so small, impossibly seen, yet tangible.

And a bit bothersome, based on how the star in front of you holds you by the back of your cloak with the tip of their fingers.

“It's sweet, how you think you know what's going on.”

As if they could read your mind. Yes, this is only one of their forms, a human mind could not comprehend the whole of the Universe. It's just… Too large! Too complex! You'd explode before you could try!

The star tilts their massive head at you, squinting the strange projection of eyes on the center of their face. Their star face. “Cute, seriously, you're so confident about it! Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I'm not the Universe?”

“B-But–” You don't even need to speak. You feel like you must. How are you breathing? How are you here? It was… It was some kind of Wish, right? “But we're all a part of the Universe, right? So even if you aren't… Aren't a representative…”

“I would think you'd know the difference between ‘part of the Universe' and ‘The Universe,’ Stardust.”

Stardust…? A name? A title?

They answer before you can dare verbalize your confusion. “I’m sure you've heard of it! Distant clusters of stars, speckles of particles, those waves of colors in the night sky.”

Colors???

“For you, it's a nickname. My Stardust, the parts that have yet condensed into something… Like me.”

The star switches from dangling you to holding you gently in the palm of their hand. You don't remember when they did this. You wish you had your notebook! There were so many questions for anything celestial! Whether it be the Universe itself or someone not. It's all left your head, though…

With all your mental might, you think of one on the spot. “So… Wh-Which star are you? I've graphed them all–”

They laugh at you, light and bell-like. “Oh, you wouldn't know me, by the time my light reaches your planet you'll… Be something else.”

Which probably means a corpse. “Do you have a name, then? Um! We… We name the stars we see, but it's not like anyone's talked to them before to ask. Do stars have names of their own?”

The hand you're on jostles right as they remember not to move you. Despite being in the vacuum of space you still feel a sense of gravity just like on Earth. At this point, you're half-sure you're just dreaming. They use their other hand to tap where a chin would be.

“Hmm… How about… Loop!”

“Lupe?” How strangely human.

“No no no. Loop. A cycle, a circle, y'know, one of these?” Loop draws a figure eight in the air… void…? “You'll see why soon enough.”

An orbit.

How vague. What else should you expect out of them, though? You can't imagine there's much they can describe without getting into incomprehensible territory. They're god-like, you're lucky you're allowed to hold a conversation.

Slowly feeling the reality of being here, you avert your eyes and count the endless stars of their body. Those stars you remember like the back of your hand. “U-Um… How far out are you, then? From Earth?”

Loop shrugs, almost tipping you over from just the subtlest of movements. “How would I know? I don't know how you measure things, and it's not like I want to learn the human concept of blinding math to figure it out.”

You're a little shocked such a being swore so casually. Is blinding still a swear to them? It's how it was used, but…

“Yes, Stardust, I swore. Stars, I can see you getting worked up over nothing in that little head of yours! Do you need to be sent back?”

“What?” You lock up. “What- What did I do- Sorry um-” Did your thoughts upset them?!

“No!!!” They cry, almost dropping the playful tone they've had this whole time. “I can't believe I forgot how– I don't want you to be overwhelmed, is all. This is a lot to take in and you seem very prone to spiraling!”

Oh… That kind of makes you feel better. Not the spiraling part, you don't do that, that's what deeply depressed people do and you've never been more elated in your life! But it's nice that something, someone, so far above you would make the effort to be comforting.

Loop gives you a strange look for a moment. They sigh (how???) and lean close. Did their face get smaller? Could you always feel all of their fingers pressing against your back?

They're definitely shrinking. In a blink, Loop’s your size and you're standing on nothing. “My precious Stardust.”

You feel cold. Freezing. Their palms on yours are warm. Burning. “Loop?”

Closer, still, until the heat of their face flushes yours. “You need a break, I think. Remember! No Wishing to come back unless you’re actually ready to leave Earth!”

“What–”

The notebook open on your desk is ruined from the drool of your nap. Gross.

You push it aside and look around, the last fibers of your dream refusing to fully whither away. Was any of that real? Surely not, right? You're still in your family’s observatory, surrounded by a thousand paper cranes. The Wish Craft for that ritual shouldn't be nearly enough to transcend like that!

So it must have been a dream. A dumb dream where a star with half your voice calls you ‘Stardust’ and ‘Precious’...

With a yawn, you stretch and lean back in your chair, feeling a low pop in your back. That's going to hurt once you lay on a flat surface in the morning. Maybe you should invest in a firmer bed? Or it's just time to turn the mattress around, otherwise you're going to sink in and build a little dent of your ruined spine.

You turn on a lamp and check your reflection in the star-facing windows. Messy darkless hair, eye bags, glowing lips.

What???

What??????

?????????

The glow fades soon enough, but the memory is burnt in.

It wasn't a dream.

… And Loop kissed you.

Chapter Text

This was perhaps the worst idea you could have ever had.

Scratch that. This is the worst idea Siffrin ever had!

It's easier to put the blame on someone else when you know exactly who they are.

So, maybe you got a job a few months ago, food service, and maybe it's running you a little harder than it should. More than should be legally allowed perhaps? But you're not a lawyer.

And there's this guy you hate serving, you don't even know his name, but he'll always mumble his order and then wail at the rest of the restaurant for something or other. He's annoying and freaks you out. But he's useful??

You were complaining off-handedly, mostly trying to piss him off enough to leave– He's been in the booth for two hours! You have to turn tables!– and you were running your mouth about how you have to serve double your seating group because no one wants to work dinner rush with you, how the chefs always yell at you for forgetting orders when you have 50 to put into the janky ticket system, how you barely even get paid because you make just enough tips to be below minimum wage but the tips themselves are still awful!!!

Anyway, he said there's a solution to that. Something you should already know how to do. “Just ask the Universe. With the proper amount of belief and effort, it will come true.”

Now–

“Stars blind it–!!!”

A loud crash interrupts your short break. The break you only got half of because some “guest” wanted to keep chatting your ears off! You hear the aggressive insults of the chef and line cooks, already knowing you're going to have to deal with a different weepy person after work now.

Your clone walks out of the kitchen and leans against the same wall as you, crossing his arms and doing his breathing exercises. “Dropped a well-done steak.”

You can't help a violent laugh, covering your mouth before the customers stare at you. “Who's rich enough to get a blinding steak here?! And well-done, seriously? Just tell your table the cooks burnt it and are making a new one out of the kindness in their hearts~!”

Siffrin doesn't seem convinced, still too worried about being a hassle, about saying upsetting things. When you did that Wish ritual, you didn't think it would work. You also didn't think your clone would be… So soft? Emotionally? It makes you wonder what you were like the moment you took this job. You did say you wanted someone eager to help you, so maybe that was interpreted as when you were a new hire.

“New” hire. As if you've even been here long enough to not be new. This place is just soul-sucking.

It was easy enough to give him your old name and beg your boss that “a close friend of mine really needs a job, they'll work minimum and we're short staffed anyway.” It sucks that they reminded you that you are not a good server. They're clumsy, they don't know how to interact with people, they can't remember orders even when they're on a smaller workload.

You really haven't changed much at all. You're no better. He's no worse. He's better because he still has some soul left.

Your spine protests as you use it to push off the wall. “I need to get back to it. Go on your break, I'll cover for you. How long was your table waiting?”

Siffrin bites their lip and avoids your eye. “Uh, 40 minutes?”

“... Oh, Stars.”

“I forgot to put the ticket in for a while…”

The things you do for him. Which is insane! You needed help! Why do you have to cover his blinding ass?! To make matters worse, his table has the crying guy again. STARRRRS!!!

You put on your best 4-months-ago impression as you approach. “I am so sorry for the wait, sir, the kitchen accidentally burnt your order so you're going to get a fresh plate free of charge. It is simply unacceptable they've taken this long for the first one!”

He slowly waves his hand dismissively. “Ooh… That's quite alright… The longer I'm out here, the longer my mind is off of things… Tell them to take their time…”

If Siffrin tells you there's a reservation for this table in the next hour you are going to throttle them. “That I will!” Maybe you'll also ask them if they can prove the rumor that asshole cooks spit in the food. Or not. One can dream.

Speed-walking to the drink station, you spot Siffrin suspiciously filling up the exact soda orders you just remembered you forgot. “You look mad.”

“I am mad. I hate that guy.”

They raise a brow. How come theirs are thicker than yours? It's not like you trimmed them. “What exactly did he do? He's annoying, but, like, not some weirdo, right?”

You give him your best dumbfounded stare. “Are we really the same person? Or course he's a weirdo! Who sits for hours alone at a fancy restaurant–”

“We're wearing t-shirts.”

“Crying his eyes out and talking about rituals to the servers?”

They obnoxiously wink and set their drinks on their tray, swinging it up with no effort or spills. You're starting to think it's just the hot plates burning your hands that make you clumsy. “A ritual you willingly did.”

“I hate you, now.”

“Do you want to take care of your own tables’ drinks then?”

“Nope~! Thank you Stardust~!”

Chapter Text

This has to be it. The final part. All you need to do is put in that blinding coin.

You're grateful for your family, more than ever somehow. Even if they don't really know what they did to help.

There's a perfect replica of you sitting in your woodworking chair, situated to be facing away from your messy desk. You knew how to carve the wooden bones, you've seen your own broken body enough times to memorize it. Isa gave you a few hand-made copies of your cloak and hat, perfectly Crafted to keep warm and cool. He even taught you how to sew yourself!

That certainly made it easier to put the skin together, tough fabric holding in thousands of layers of elastic, Crafted to move like muscles, cotton filling in the shape like fat and blood. Mirabelle and Odile helped you study the anatomy for it. You didn't bother with organs. They wouldn't need them to live. They don't need to deal with those complications anymore!

Unless you counted the coin. You lift their cloak and open the little compartment on their chest, where a heart would sit.

When you started this project, you swore you wouldn't use Wish Craft like this. Anything powerful enough to bring back the dead can be interpreted in too many ways. But… It’s been a decade since you saw them…

You kiss the coin.

You place it into the body.

You lower their cloak and rest your forehead on theirs.

There was a meteor shower tonight. You don't need to see them to know they're there. To know the Universe will guide you.

“Please come back to me. Please come back to me. Please come back to me.”

Nothing happens for a long time. But that's okay. Your wish needs to be heard, and sound takes a long time to travel out to the stars.

Then…

The fuzzy skin glows, warms, then flinches violently. You pull back to watch Loop figure out their false tendons and nerves. It takes a moment for them to realize exactly what you've done.

“St-Stardust?”

“Loop.” Your heart is leaping out of its chest, as if it was going to squeeze itself next to that coin. You want nothing more than to yell their name, cling to them, cry until there's no more tears to shed… But you can't overwhelm them. “Welcome home.”

They bring an arm up to their eyes. You gave them both eyes, half-moons with pretty lashes. You don't know if they have their full sight because of that. They're basically just realistic beads set into the face of a doll, after all.

They lift up their other arm, using their delicate fingers to poke and prod at their skin. Then they press until they can feel the strain of their muscles, and the solid body of their bones.

“What…” Loop pulls at the hem of their cloak, mimicking hyperventilation. “What did you do, Stardust?!”

That's to be expected. Loop said you'd see them again, that you needed to return the coin, but the Universe wasn't kind enough to grant that wish. You were patient. Stars, were you patient. Too patient.

Loop starts to claw at their collar only to snatch some skin against a pin. Then they notice the pins. Rather than a coil holding it closed… It's two little diamonds.

You tap at your own once their eyes are on you. “I couldn't have done it without her, Loop. Please be careful when you take them off, Bonnie already chipped her before and they were inconsolable for a week.”

“Her–” They freeze up. Their eyes gloss over. Unfortunately, you couldn't find a way to make them cry. Too much moisture and their body will get… Really gross.

You can practically hear the next words before they say them. What am I, your test dummy?! “She said she was ready. You know she wasn't actually old enough to pass in 10 years, any longer would make things worse for her. It… Got complicated at the end there.

“But you,” You distract your thoughts of Odile by grabbing Loop’s hand. Just as soft as when you put them together. “You promised, Loop. You said we'd meet again. And you lied to me. I thought we were through with lying?”

They tremble from your touch. You're not quite sure how. Bodies are strange, aren't they? “It was… It was really that long? Stars, I… Odile died before I got back?!”

It's not quite recent enough to tear up at her name, but you almost do anyway. You just nod.

Loop goes slack, the only life left in them are their blinking eyes and slackjawed expression. “Oh, Stardust…”

“I know, I should have done this sooner. I know it was unfair to you to wait so long but you said we'd see each other again–”

Loop shoots straight up and grabs your wrist, clenching until you can feel their bones trap yours. You don't want to know how much force they're putting into that fake body of theirs. You were hoping… That it's temporary, that they could be real again! What if they snap a limb off like this? Can they take the strain?

“You shouldn't have done this at all, Stardust. I finally got what I wanted. I wished for rest, and I no longer had to live with the consequences of leaving a whole timeline of my family behind to die!”

Their grip tightens. “Loop–”

“I know that makes me a blinding coward. I don't care anymore. I didn't have to care anymore! You have a full life ahead of you, I was lost thousands of years ago, and you're trying to choose for me regardless! I'm not going to fill her empty space! I'm not going to live in this stupid puppet body!”

A snap.

You panic.

You grab a whittling knife and stick it into the back of Loop’s hand. They yelp and flinch back enough for you to free your wrist. Loop’s trying to avoid looking at the split threads while you heal your dislocated joints.

“Don't find me.”

Before you can ask what they mean, they run out of the room faster than you could anymore.

Chapter Text

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like a pirate with that eyepatch?”

You're sitting in the crow’s nest with Loop, their shining face providing just enough light not to fall off the pathetic railing this ship had up here. “Hardy har, Loop.”

“Yar har har, you mean?”

They laugh dangerously loudly as you shove them against the center post. Loop is annoying, but they're great at navigating, and you definitely need the help now that you can't see half of anything. Having Loop is better than having to ask for help, too… Even if they're a bit of a secret.

“Mira says we aren't pirates. Pirates, like, pillage and plunder and do all sorts of other crimes.”

“Right! Because you and your party bought this ship? And your supplies? You've legally entered every country and local governments know you're on their waters?”

You glare at them, which is probably half as effective as before too. “Show us the way to any government as tolerable as Vaugarde and maybe we can figure it out.”

“...”

It was a year ago that Vaugarde froze in time. You and your party were supposed to save everyone, but… You all barely scraped by just trying to reach the King. It was a miracle you noticed that opening trap!

You were all too exhausted to fight, so in an attempt to reason with the King, to have him step down with a chance for forgiveness, he froze all of you but Mirabelle. Then he froze himself last.

Mira managed to unfreeze you, having just learned the Craft skill for it, and she tried to unfreeze Euphrasie. Then people in Dormont since they were the last ones to freeze before you… Even then, it was too late.

“Maybe…” Loop begins, uncharacteristically soft, “Maybe Ka Bue can help you. It shouldn't take long to sail straight there if you start now.”

After asking every sea-side southern hemisphere country for help, you have found yourself farther north. If only Odile was willing to skip a majority of the world to go straight home.

If only your own blinding home wasn't–

Best not to dwell on that. Obviously your own country couldn't help either. They… Your party doesn't even remember going there. You hardly remember yourself. You just know that things are worse ever since the Island’s existence was erased from memory. You don't even get to confide in anyone about it! Everyone else just lost their home too, you shouldn't remind them.

At least they can remember it.

“How did you get up here anyway, Stardust? Surely the Housemaiden wouldn't let you climb up so soon after your injury.” Loop thankfully distracts you.

You shrug and look up at the stars, blinking away Loop’s light and trying to not mistake their body as the sky. “Everyone’s asleep while we anchor. It's a rope ladder, you hang on tight and feel for the higher ledge. It's not complicated.”

“Right…”

There's bandages under the eyepatch. It was awfully itchy until Isa Crafted it away. You're grateful, but knowing what your situation looks like to everyone on land, you kind of wish he didn't choose to make it such a common lightless style eyepatch. Not that you have the materials for a glass eye anyway.

You absentmindedly scratch your face out of habit. “Anyway, know where we should actually go next? Food's… Running low.”

Loop rubs their arms and stargazes with you, legs dangling over the top of the ladder leading to the deck. “You'll hit land if you keep going straight north, any detours are longer trips. And… Be extra careful about storms. It's hurricane season.”

They acknowledge your hum with a nod. It's not all the nautical details Odile prefers, she still greatly overestimates your experience with the ocean. She'd have a better time getting sailing information from Bonnie.

“Will you ever come down to meet them, by the way?” You ask your star guide. “I can't keep taking the credit. I don't even know what I'm talking about when I tell them where to go. If they could just get it straight from you–”

“But you're all who I care about, Stardust~! Why should I have to put up with awkward conversations when I have nothing interesting to say anyway? It's not like they have to know where the words come from, they just need to be true!”

… Well, it's not like Loop's ever steered you wrong before. It's supernatural, the way they always know how to keep you and your party in the best of health. Advice like “Don't dock here, they'll confiscate your ship.” And “Don't eat the local produce, you're allergic.” It's saved your tails for a long time.

They must be too shy. It is a little weird to have a complete stranger in the only safe space left in the whole world, so you get why they'd be nervous about showing themself. Odile probably wouldn't react well, Isa and Mira would give the benefit of the doubt, Bonnie really shouldn't have to deal with any more complicated situations…

The sun starts to rise. Soon, Loop’s brightness will blend in with the rays of the darkless sun and they'll be completely invisible to anyone who bothers to look up at the sails during the day.

“I should head down, now. I don't want anyone to catch me out of bed so soon.”

“Oh? You're not even supposed to be walking around? Naughty, naughty, Stardust!”

You cringe a bit. “Yeahhh… Goodbye, Loop.”

“All the way up here just for me?! I'm so touched! I just can't believe you crawled your sorry skin out of your nice and soft bed in the middle of the night just for me~!!!”

“BYE, Loop.” You waste no time in feeling for the way back down. These ropes dig into your stolen gloves like a precious memory, you're not sure you'd fall even if you were fully blinded by that strange aquatic Sadness.

Unfortunately for you, Bonnie’s on the deck by the time you reach it. They glare at you for a long time, then promptly run back into the ship to tell on you. Blind it.

Chapter Text

There was an undead with your face.

Every morning, just past the fence, it was looking straight at your bedroom window.

You didn't have to worry about it coming in or anything. The undead lose their Craft energy so there's nothing they can do against Odile and Isabeau’s many Crafted defenses. Still, it's weird. And every time you bring it up to anyone else, they don't believe you.

So you stare back today. If someone catches you staring, they can see it too. Or maybe they can finally confirm that you're losing it.

It was strange. It didn't even try to walk forward to reach you. The base must have smelt too much like humans by now, you'll sometimes get a minor hoard trying to get in only to end up with a mess to keep Bonnie away from. Why did this one never seem hungry?

You keep staring. And staring. And staring…

Okay, that's enough of that. You're bored.

There was a tree you used to climb out of the base, purely kept up for scouting purposes. Odile would probably freak out if she knew you jumped the fence using it… You just don't like taking the resources already stored here, it's easier to find stuff for yourself.

You head outside and climb up the tree, quickly scanning the area for your deathly ghost.

It stayed for once, still looking at you, still not moving. You know it can move, though, because it's not there all the time.

“Hey.” You make a shooing motion down at it. “Go away, freaky.”

The undead opens its mouth, and…

“They were mine.”

It says in your own voice.

Okay… So… Undead shouldn't be able to speak. They are actually dead, and they've been completely unresponsive to all attempts of communication before. They also don't tend to walk for long distances, and you know for a fact this town did not inhabit someone who looked exactly like you before.

… Maybe it just vaguely resembled human speech? “Who were?”

It doesn't respond for a long time. Yeah, so, a dud. False alarm! Just some creepy mouth noises!

“Do you want them to live?”

Oh okay. False false alarm. You're actually getting a bit scared, now. This is probably a sign to just drop your dagger into its skull, but… Would your friends get mad at you for letting it live? Or for killing something that might be useful? At what point is a corpse undead enough to be killed again, anyway? Is talking enough of a sign that they're still alive?

“Answer me, Siffrin.”

Your blood runs cold for a moment. “Who?”

“You know who.”

… It must mean your party. “Then of course I do? Duh? That's kind of a lame threat when you haven't even tried to get in.”

It seems angry now, but sighs and shakes the expression off its face. Undead shouldn't breathe, either. “Follow.”

Huh???

Without waiting for your response, it decides to start walking away. You don't know if this solves the issue or not???

… There's no other undead around…

You hop off your branch and follow it. The slight weight of your dagger is tucked on your hip, if anything goes wrong you can get out of there fast. Something that can talk might not try to kill you, but if it does… You don't think you'd hesitate, even with your own face.

Thoughts start to swirl as the undead leads you further into the city ruins. Should you be doing this? This is dumb, you're just going to get yourself hurt or bitten. It's definitely leading you away from your friends to kill you.

Then the city thins, leaving a wide, overgrown circle around the base of a massive tree. The undead walks under it and sits on a root tall enough to be a table. You're gestured to sit across from it.

“That's better.” It takes a deep breath, inflating the no-lungs space in its chest. You can tell there's no lungs on account of the massive hole between where breasts used to be. You couldn't tell before, but it's not actually wearing anything. It's just… Covered in enough dirt to look like dark clothes from afar.

(It's skin was strangely flat, though. You're not going to try and investigate that further, but it feels uncanny…)

“I'll start,” It places a hand over its unbeating heart and leans forward. “As you could tell, I'm not like the rest. I'm a person, for one. They/them, a fellow traveler, as old as you are. I lived a life before all of this and I'm not too keen to lose it. Not like this.”

Oh, introductions? You guess that makes things a little nicer. “Um, I'm Siffrin, he/they, I don't really travel much anymore because of the whole…” You toss your hand towards the city, where there's dark figures slumping around in various shadows, all just a little too far away to be an issue.

Is this place safe just because it's pretty? It looks like it's some kind of nature reserve or park, but it's still in the center of the city. There's a lot of undead around here.

The one in front of you crosses their leg over the other and tries to grin. It's awkward. It's your own, but even you can tell when a smile looks forced. “We have the same goal: Keep your party safe. I'll tell you right now that your nice spot won't last the way it is now.”

“How do you know?”

“Please, I exist. Who's to say there aren't others like me? Ones smart enough to break in, and malicious enough to try.”

They have a point… And the Craft defenses aren't infinite, they need to be supplied with energy constantly. If any one of you gets too exhausted they're coming down.

They hold out a hand, covered in lightless grime yet still sparkling like stars. “I have a few ideas that might help, if you'd allow me?”

Are you supposed to take it? It has to be a trick, right? They're telling on themself, saying there might be others like them but they're the nice one. And what about what they said earlier? “They were mine”? It sounds like they want your friends for food.

It's smarter to investigate more and not immediately be hostile to some kind of new life. Pulling your sleeve down enough to tuck into your gloves, you shake their hand.

They yank you forward and pull your limb up to their mouth.

Chapter Text

There is a person hiding underneath the very expensive equipment behind the stage. Someone who absolutely should not be backstage. Someone who was very clearly mistaken as you and forced to do your job.

Now you know why the lights look awful, why the microphone’s in the wrong position, and why your boss gave you a glare the moment you walked in.

They're hiding underneath their hat, holding the rim down to block their face as they obviously sob. You have no clue what to do about this!!!

… First things first, you're on a strict schedule, as self-inflicted as it is. You place your bag by them and run to fix everything. Adjust the lights, move the mic, set up some pre-show music for seating. The doors don't open for another 15 minutes or so, you hope that's enough time to figure this out.

“Hello, stranger.” You kneel next to them. They flinch and look up at you. At first you thought the clothes were a coincidence, darkless hat and cloak with invisible stitching, but they truly have your face. No wonder this whole thing happened!

They wipe their face, largely just the right side, the left eye didn't have any tear tracks. “H-hey, stranger. Am I- Am I in your way?”

You shake your head and hold a hand out, which they don't seem to notice much less actually take as they crawl out of the sound equipment. “Question of my own; are you meant to be here? This is normally my job. Thanks for… Not moving any of these cables, by the way.” Frankly, you weren't taught what they're all for and you'd rather not have to deal with the consequences of them being touched.

“... There's a show tonight, right…?” They blink roughly and stare at your face. They must have just noticed the similarities. “Um… I think I misread the starting time? It said to come early for seats, but I guess the show doesn't start for an hour? And- And they let me in, but then kept yelling at me to do things, and- S-Sorry…”

If you wanted to lose your job, you'd give some folks a piece of your mind for not only pulling some doppelgänger in before seating actually starts, but for actually having the gall to yell at who they assumed was you.

You like having money, though. “Well, let's go clear things up, and I'm sure the club will give you a refund on your ticket for the inconvenience.”

“Ticket?”

You struggle to keep your teeth from grinding. “Drink. Free drink. Lucky you! I get a free shift drink every show~! I don't mind if you have it, I'm not fond of getting drunk at work.”

It doesn't take long for you to explain the situation and have your boss profusely apologize for involving some random person into the very very very expensive booth and touch the expensive tools (stars know how many times you've been told how priceless everything is for a dingy underground clubroom.)

Your drink is made and you get to sit at the bar with them while literally anyone else handles proper seating. “So, Stardust,” a name you made up on the spot, as they seemed to lock up when confronting your fellow staff and you needed to tell them something. “You thought this was a theater?”

He takes a sip and nods immediately after, shyly covering his mouth as some boring craft beer spills down. “Mhm. Uh, I saw a couple of videos with some theater productions from here, but it doesn't… Look anything like it? The address is the same, though, and the website said there'd be music…?”

“Club music. Y'know, parties, pop stuff, the occasional local rave for some reason. I found this place the same way but apparently they don't really do the full stage stuff anymore.” Which is a shame, you would have loved to do something far more involved than… Keeping a single microphone leveled for advertisement announcements.

Stardust shrinks in their seat. “Oh… Blind it…”

You check the website on your phone for tonight’s event. The tech you need to work with doesn't tend to change, and usually you aren't told if it needs to be changed until you've been here for an hour anyway, but… “Looks like it's karaoke tonight. That's kind of like a musical, if you're interested!”

That didn't really cheer him up at all. He just shrugs and keeps drinking.

“Or, uh, I can tell you if there's anything you'd actually want to go to? It's not like plays and things are totally off the table here…”

They seem a little interested but doesn't otherwise comment on it, simply looking to the very tiny stage with a half-glitchy projector lighting up the side of it. “Mn.” Is all you get.

You're suddenly regretting using up your free drink for the night. “Well, listen, it's not a good look on me or the club if our first customer of the night decides to leave. They still think you paid to be here. How about you give this place a fair shot and see if you'd still be into some other performances?” You largely just don't want to be blamed for “losing” the club money by “chasing him off.”

“... Alright.”

Another stressful shift saved by Siffrin!!!

“Great!!! You don't even need to stick around for the whole thing, once it starts it'll get really dark so no one will know if you're walking out. Thanks for giving it a shot– ah, wait, by the way, what's your actual name?”

“Siffrin.”

What.

Chapter Text

“Please let me in please let me in please let me in–”

You keep knocking, harsh winds threatening to pull your hat off your head. Winter was early and it decided to announce itself with a killing storm. You were incredibly unprepared, you couldn't get the funds to stay somewhere nor could you supply yourself any food.

The last hope you had was the first shelter you saw, a small home in the middle of nowhere between rural towns, smoke coming out of a short chimney yet with no lights on inside. So you slam your fists against the door in hopes Vaugardian kindness forgives your desperate rudeness.

When the door opens, you have to hold your breath, because this is when you die.

There is a person alone in the forest who looks exactly like you, if a touch older and weary. They stare not in surprise, but as if they expected you to arrive at any moment. And this is when you fully realize that you have not asked a fellow human being for shelter, but rather… Something that lured you here.

You also realize that you might not mind dying in this place, under a bright wooden ceiling, next to a fire, learning more about this entity that will surely take your place in the world with an eye like that.

Because then you would not die alone and forgotten, buried in snow.

The stranger wordlessly invites you inside, aside from a simple “knock the snow off your hat at the door.” Which you follow. Their voice is yours as well.

There are no other doppelgängers in the house. Was it a sign of death just seeing one, or did it have to be thrice? Or were you doomed the moment you didn't question what you saw directly to their/your face? Maybe it was listening to their command that will do you in.

Their voice changes suddenly, as if they wanted to hide what they are. “Welcome to my abode, Stardust~! You can stay until the storm ends, then you're free to leave. Would you like anything to drink? Water, tea, coffee, chocolate’s hard to come by lately–”

“When will you kill me?” Might as well get it over with.

They look at you strangely, blinking their one- no, two, eyes? No, one– You can't tell. Their face isn't even covered and you can't tell. There's symmetrical motion but your mind can only register their right side. A confused, stressed, falsely cheerful half-moon eye curling up with a wide smile. “What do you mean?”

You gesture at your hair, face, and swiftly take off your cloak to reveal that they're wearing the exact same turtleneck and baggy lightless pants as you. “You're meant to replace me, right? I'll have to die for that to happen.”

“... Ah… Hha! Hahahihihi!!!” They hide their unhinged laughter behind their palms. “S-Sorry! Sorry! Just– You got things a little backwards there! No, I'm not going to kill you, and like I said before; you can leave! Whether that be now and risk hypothermia, or later, you'll always be allowed to leave, unharmed. Let's start over.”

The apparent not-murderer does a little flourish and bows theatrically. “You can call me Loop. If you're so convinced we're the same, you can call me by the royal We pronouns. Or they/them for simplicity. And wouldn't you know, there's already a difference right there, identities.”

It felt like they were trying a little too hard to convince you that you're safe. You don't truly care if you are. If someone wants your life, they're free to take it, you're not really doing much with it anyway. “I'm Siffrin, he/they. I guess you're right about that… And you already knew, somehow.”

Loop winks, you're not sure how you know this, then strides across the room to pull down a few boxes of tea, preparing something without waiting for an answer.

Might as well. You hang your cloak up on a rack you don't bother to look at and seat yourself at the small dining table set in the middle of the kitchen.

Despite fully believing you won't wake up tomorrow, this cabin still felt cozy. There's not many decorations, or really much of anything aside from some basic furniture and food storage, but the empty space feels welcoming. Like it was inviting you to add to it, to make this lonely place a home.

“How long have you lived here?” You ask casually, because there's no point in stating the obvious again.

Loop sets down two cups, freezing for a moment after. Then they go back to retrieve the squealing kettle. “A while. I don't tend to linger, though! Too many places to see, I'm sure you're familiar with the feeling?” They pour something that smells sickeningly sweet before sugar is even added. “I’ve been stuck here since winter began, however. Living off of a surplus of rations for the past couple of months.”

“Winter barely started.”

“...” They smile and sit with you. “It's quite cold this far south! But anyway, who’s counting? I've never seen the snow reach up to the windows these past few seasons so I don't think this storm will make traveling impossible. By tomorrow, or maybe the next day, you'll be on your way.”

The tea just tastes like burnt sugar. You struggle not to cough. Loop notices anyway and gets you some water that thankfully tastes normal.

“... May I ask, in case you're wrong about yourself, if you'd make it peaceful?”

They stare with an expression you can't read. A face you've never pulled before.

“It’s the least I could do, Stardust.”

Silence is filled only with howling winds.

Chapter Text

Here they come now! The “saviors,” the supposed heroes of this story. There were three last you checked. You plan to keep it that way!

The Housemaiden.

The Fighter.

The Researcher.

You've told them your warnings, you've made yourself awfully cryptic and scary! With your history of disabling traps you've certainly tried to create a few non-lethal ones. Turns out you're bad at it. It's been a while! You forgot you didn't really know how to disable traps! You were just fast!

That doesn't matter now. The party sees you as an honest threat. Good.

You stand on the branches of a large tree at the edge of the clearing you know they'll set up camp in. Just on time; the Housemaiden breaks out of the woods on the other side of the field, followed closely by the Fighter, Researcher, and–

And…

The Traveler.

If you weren't supposed to be in hiding, your head would flare with a darkless hot rage. You told them! You told them to watch out for any rogue trying to join their party!!! That they're an accomplice! That you're only bothering to say something because they betrayed the King!

While the situation was quite literally the opposite (you still internally gag at knowingly associating yourself with him,) they couldn't have known that! The Researcher was supposed to be so suspicious she'd shut down the Housemaiden’s invitation on her behalf! Because why in the world would they allow someone like him on the team?! When their nemesis repeatedly warned them that he doesn't have their best interests at heart?!

Then you struggle to not slap your own face in despair. Of course they let them join!!! Their nemesis said “hey, I hate this guy.” SO OF COURSE THEY WOULD WANT THEM ON THE TEAM!!!

You dangle your legs off the branch and stew in your anger. Fine. Whatever. At least this time around the party doesn't seem so exhausted if they just fought that Sadness. Your subtle training with them is working! As long as he doesn't get killed in the House, things should be just. Fine.

… If they're not exhausted, then they might have some energy for another training session. You'll have to keep it short, act more teasing than properly threatening. Your character tends to flip between those.

Before they can settle down and get their equipment out– they hate when your little fights interrupt their downtime– you leap out of the tree and land several feet in front of the Housemaiden, brandishing a Scissors Craft sign and clicking your heels against a nearby rock to further make yourself known.

“Why, good afternoon, Housemaiden!” You bow deeply, “I see you opted to not follow my very explicit advice of letting that traitor in with your group. Just because they hate the King doesn't mean they'll give you any aid.”

“Loop!” The Housemaiden shouts, not really in surprise. “Like we'd listen to you! Siffrin was nice enough to actually help us out!”

You very much ignore the confused look of your past self. He wouldn't recognize you like this, thankfully. Not only has your body Changed in mystical ways, you're also wearing something a little too impractical for his tastes. And yours, but you need to sell yourself as a proper villain.

The Fighter runs up to her side defensively. “Just leave us alone, Loop! We're already behind on schedule and we've been through enough today.”

The Researcher doesn't even bother to acknowledge you, only quietly filling Siffrin in about your whole deal. There's a chance she's catching onto your plan… It's not like you've ever seriously hurt anyone.

Keep going. “Pray tell: how behind are you in reaching the King?” You'd pair the question with a smile if you could.

There's a pause. The silence rings in your ears.

Wait.

Your loops started the day before the entire country froze over.

Blind it! You forgot to consider that! You just wanted them to be stronger, to be able to beat the King! But there's not going to be a King to kill if they can't get there before he finishes his conquest!

“Loop? Are you normally this quiet?”

It felt like your heart dropped into your stomach. Mirabelle hasn't sounded so soft towards you since–

Don't get distracted!!

You slash the grass next to her and get into a familiar battle stance. “I-I warned you! If you're not going to listen to words, then maybe I should teach you a lesson about mingling with traitors like Stardust!”

Siffrin tilts his head at the nickname. You refuse to say the real thing out loud. As soon as you lunge forward towards the Housemaiden, hoping to be blown back by the Fighter’s shield, Siffrin instead speeds himself up to shove you away.

They don't bother letting you get a hit in. You have to drop to the ground to avoid their blade, then roll away from a Craft attack, then jump over them as they toss another strike in your direction. Was fighting always this dire?!

As determined as he is, you have years of experience under your sparkly studded belt. Even when an attack does land it doesn't do much except expose that your blood has turned darkless like his covered roots. There's a stinging pain but otherwise you're fine to keep going.

You're locked into a familiar back-and-forth. Lunge, dodge, swipe, dodge, going around each other in endless circles. Two sets of metallic heels click and snap in a rhythmic beat.

“... Hey…” Siffrin’s eyes start to sparkle as you continue fighting. “Do you know any musicals?”

“... I sure do~! Probably a couple more than you!” You play into it. Musicals weren't always your favorite, singing and acting are different things and some people can't do both well.

“Do you know the– Ah, stars, what was it? It was a romance, but the lead and antagonist’s sidekick fought like this! And it had this great choreography, I think it was tap dancing alongside the orchestra?”

“Time’s End. I've… I've heard of it.” You try to recall eons ago, humming the chorus before your brain can fill in the empty space that was the bridge. Siffrin bounces along. At some point they've stopped attacking you. Despite the grass and rocks making a terrible stage for tap, not that you even have the proper shoes for it, they hum with you and start swinging their arms as if they were using the sidekick’s longsword.

Someone’s giggling by the time you're both too dizzy to continue. It turns out to be yourself. You end up on the ground again as your legs twist into your stupidly complicated skirt and lacy cape. But you keep laughing. Why can't you stop?

Siffrin’s giggling too, taking a moment to breathe before offering his hand to help you up.

“... So, have we negotiated something, or do you normally help your enemies stand after a battle, Siffrin?”

The Researcher is a gift from the stars, because she shocks you into finally shutting up. Good. Your chest hurts. You slap Siffrin’s hand away and stand on your own. “I believe I've had enough dancing for one day! I’d recommend you push yourselves just a little harder, Saviors, if you want to make it to Dormont before the end of the world~!”

You dash off before another word gets exchanged. This changes a few things. They need to pick up and take care of the Kid in just a few weeks, too! At this point you might as well find an orb before them and drop it right at their doorstep.

Chapter Text

“-And we're happy to showcase a new local band that's already being nominated for quite a few awards! They'll be playing at the Dormont Theater before heading on over to Corbeaux to wow the city folk! From the Saviors’ newest album: Twilight Breeze!”

You turn the radio off just as the piano starts. Ugh. It's petty, refusing to even listen to your own composition, even though you gave them permission to keep it!!! But it hurts! Knowing how far they're getting without you. That they're only doing so well because you left in the first place.

Now's not the time to get distracted, however. Isabeau left a few of his things at your place and you'll be damned if you selfishly keep his junk just because you're jealous. It's not his fault you decided to use this stupid car’s stupid radio.

Whatever. He's going to be practicing with everyone else at Odile’s place, it'll give you a good excuse to say that you didn't leave because of any of them and you'll be on your way as soon as possible. This also means you won't have to have the same conversation twice, thrice, etcetera. Maybe you can also wish them luck on the new album? Is that too self-centered? You wrote it, after all.

Well, the main melody at least, Pétronille was always better with percussion and nothing was ever complete without Mirabelle's supportive bass.

You wonder who's the new pianist… Or maybe they have just enough recordings left from you to get by? No, that's stupid.

You opt not to pull into the driveway, instead just pulling over a few homes away so no one can really… Anticipate you? To have not enough time to get mad? Stars, you're awful… But it's fine. You grab Isabeau’s sweaters and make your way down to the loud house playing your music.

They could be using recordings, actually, the piano has the same hesitancy you had at the same sections. Where bits of memory distracted you. It's harder to make out over the guitar and drums. Yes, you wrote the melody, but you always played supporting roles, and Isabeau was usually better at transcribing your keys into strings…

You have to walk between a few other cars before reaching Odile’s front door. Are they going to pack themselves into one vehicle for their trip? Or are they going to crowd every parking lot by bringing each car? Not that you'd get to know. Well, you could, but then you'd be stalking them across the country. You're not doing that.

Oh, the song ended before you could knock. It's probably better to wait for them to give each other criticisms before they can forget because of you. They actually know what they're talking about when it comes to music.

… A window’s open. You can hear them. You shouldn't…

You're just standing here!!! It's not your fault they're audible!!!

“Great work, everyone! I know it's a bit of a slower song, but let's try not to rush the drumming, okay Pétro?”

“Fiiiiiiine. But I wasn't rushing, this song isn't somber, it's just calm. I think Belle was dragging a little.”

“Was I? I'm sorry! I just got really into it and it felt maybe a little sadder than usual? You're right, though, Pétronille. You have the best timing out of all of us and I did feel like I was almost a beat behind you…”

“Alright, kids, last practice before we're packing up for tonight. I can't let you get exhausted before our final local show.”

“Of course, M’dame!”

Okay. They're done. You raise a fist to knock–

“Oh, wait, Sif? Did you have any notes? It's your song, what do you think the pacing should be before we go live?”

What? Did he see you walk by the window? Does he want you to answer? That's creepy though, isn't it? You said you needed to get out, that you couldn't deal with it, that you just wanted to forget your own songs… You're not allowed to be here, to give input.

“Um… It kind of feels right going at Mira’s pace? It's not supposed to be a sad song, but… It kind of makes me feel that way, anyway.”

You didn't say anything. You don't bother to keep holding onto Isabeau’s sweaters as you rush to the window and properly peer inside. It's creepy. It's blinding stalkerish.

There is a person sitting behind Odile’s antique piano, awkwardly hunching over and fingers itching to play something again. They have your hair, your face, your eyepatch, your clothes, your name. And they're claiming to have written your songs! And- And- And everyone’s looking at them like they did!!! Like their input blinding matters!!!

Mirabelle lightly tugs on Isabeau’s sleeve. You still don't know how they don't get in the way of his playing. “Hey, shouldn't we be practicing the stage name for him? We're live tonight, we can’t slip up…”

Isabeau nods with an “oh” mouth. “Yeah! Sorry, Sif– Stardust, I mean.”

“That's fine.” Your imposter responds, “I… I forgot why I'm the only one with a stage name…?”

Pétronille tiredly spins her drumsticks. “Because you sorta made your ‘quit’ public and felt more comfortable being anonymous. I still don't know what kind of marketing this is, everyone knows it's you, but whatever works I guess.”

But you did quit! Everyone knows that too!

And who in the world was Stardust?!

…

They're…

Your stomach churns at the thought.

They're your song. That was the title of your goodbye. The one you never… Completed? Rendered?

Showed your band at all?

Odile taps her fist against a coffee table. “Come on, one last round. Then we're resting our hands. Siffrin, I'm looking at you.”

Stardust nods and gets ready, just as everyone else does. Pétronille counts them in as they play Twilight Breeze again.

You remember why you can't play anymore. While barely noticeable, Stardust’s playing pulls a memory long gone from the star in your chest, echoing melodies and lullabies you should have forgotten.

Unable to control yourself, you crouch under the window sill and cover your mouth as you sob. You've been replaced. Your song replaced you. Your memory is no longer your own.

Chapter Text

You. Are. Exhausted.

It felt like it's been months, if not years, since you could travel for longer than a few hours at a time. You can barely remember the times you walked from midday to midnight between villages. Even with the help of your family you need to sit down and eat more than you used to!

That's probably a better habit, though. You aren't totally convinced yet.

At least you get to have a cushioned bed today. They were worried you'd panic about having your own inn room but you insisted it'd be better than sleeping next to people without the night sky in view. Too familiar. Even if Isa didn't share the bed with you, you'd hear someone’s breathing, that's enough to take you back there.

Now you get to flop back onto a soft mattress in a completely dark room. It's getting colder outside, you kind of welcome it after your fever a few weeks ago. It'll make snuggling up in the covers feel amazing when you're not too lazy to take off your cloak and change into night clothes.

… Maybe you can just close your eye a little early…

…

…?

Something was placed on your forehead?

There's more stars outside the window than there were before. Did you actually fall asleep for a while? Whoops! You sit up and watch the thing fall off your head and into your lap.

It's a silver coin. No unique scratches or grooves, just a single silver coin. You fish through your cloak pockets for Loop’s coin, the precious thing that you need to return. It's sitting in your hand now, under the cloak, not with this other coin.

Just like before, you somehow know. This is your coin, the one you gave to Loop before they disappeared, when they promised you'd get to give theirs back. And yet they aren't here to fully complete the trade.

You blink and look around the room. It's completely lightless. “Loop?” There's no star head or anything to showcase where they are. Did they really just drop this off and leave? “Are you here?”

There's pressure on your shoulder. You look down at it to see nothing but a shadow in the shape of a hand. Looking closer, you can just barely spot little glitters of bright stars before the hand and wrist fade into the darkness.

“You are here,” You place your hand over theirs before they disappear again. They flinch, but stay. “Why can't I see you? Can you say anything, please, tell me you're real?”

No response. If their head isn't a star anymore then maybe they can't talk at all? They're not just a hand, right? That's kind of a terrible reward for helping you out of the loops. You could also be still half asleep and completely imagining things.

Please don't be a dream.

You think it only once. Once isn't enough to make it real. If you Wished for something around Loop you're sure they'd find a way to bring you into a fight again.

Their hand twists on your shoulder until their wrist points from behind your body to in front of it. Then they place a second hand on you. Shadows wrap over your hips as if they were straddling you. There's another chilling spot on your head as you feel breath huff against your face.

Slowly, you bring your own arms out of your cloak and let them hover above you. When they drop, they disappear behind the darkness. Behind Loop. You run them along their back until you can map out their spine and the base of their neck.

Your eye threatens to blind itself with tears. “You're here. You're here you're here you're here–” You can feel their hair, the same length as yours, their ears hidden underneath, their icy cold cheeks that instantly warm in your palms. They're brought even closer until your lips paradoxically burn from the chill of theirs.

It doesn't matter that you can hardly see them, that they aren't talking to you, that they feel like snow, they're here and they're alive! All that's left is to give them their own coin back. You're hesitant to do so. What if they leave after? Not that it's fair to keep it from them in the hopes they'd stay…

Their coin floats and disappears into whatever pocket previously held your own. Loop traps you in a hug before bringing their face back to yours again. They're here to stay. At least you hope this is what this means. You cling back.

What does this look like to anyone else? Are you hugging the air or can they still see the shadow that makes up their body? What even happened to them, anyway?

… Are they your shadow?

You don't get to worry about it that night, simply content to be held and hold someone back without fear.

The next morning, however, you are very worried. Because Loop has disappeared, and your coin is still in your lap. Did they leave? Did they think your family would walk in and find them? Did–

There's a tapping on your arm, the part that's shaded away from the morning sun by the rest of your body. You watch as the skin dips from the slight pressure of invisible fingers digging down.

Okay. Loop is your shadow. Or at least they're the shadows attached to you somehow. Can they live like this? Are they okay with it?

“Does… Does light hurt you at all, Loop?”

They pause. They might not know how to answer.

“Um, one squeeze for yes, two for no.”

Two squeezes. Good! Good… You get out of bed and slowly turn in the light, watching as your shadows unnaturally twist, as if they're avoiding the little faded edges of the shade on your skin and cloak. Loop continues to press against you to let you know they're okay.

You don't really know if you're okay with this. You don't mind them living on you at all times, this was their body at one point anyway, but this can't be the best way to live. “Let's figure something out.”

Yes. They say. They squeeze?

… You want to see them again.

Chapter Text

You don't get long to panic about your very sudden death, because as soon as you realize just how real it felt and that you actually really did die… You can't help but get distracted by the sound of a bell? A small one, smaller than the one you found in the closet next to all those tonics… Ding ding!

Then there's a small light above you, fluttering around kind of like a hummingbird. Your eye’s a little blurry and you're still struggling to breathe so you can't really make out what that light even is.

You breathe slowly in… And slowly out… Done thrice until your heart calms down.

Mira walks up the same as before? That light disappears as she leans over you. “Good morning, Siffrin! Or, good afternoon I guess. Did you have a nice nap?”

She said that exact same thing too… No words come to mind. You really did die, didn't you? And you're repeating the same day? And there's a… Bell? Haunting you? A ghost of yourself? Stars, you hope not.

“... You're still half asleep, aren't you?”

Are you??? Mira tells you not to nap for too long and heads back into town.

You died.

You died you died you died–

That bell is back, flying over your hat and landing on the tip of your nose. What you see isn't some kind of bug or bird, but rather a tiny star with long pointy wings. It starts scolding you? It has the body of a person in the shade of the night sky, and it's waving a finger in your face as if you did something wrong. Which you guess you did, because you died, you failed to see that trap, you–

“Ow!!!” It just smacked your head?! You sit up and watch it tumble down to your lap. It seems more upset than seriously injured. Good! You didn't exactly want to hurt whatever it was.

… Weren't there stories about these kinds of creatures? You're forgetting the word, but they're tiny tricksters, right? Don't give your name, don't eat their food, don't step in a circle of mushrooms. Couldn't you also distract them with games? Or… Math? There was that thing about dropping things and they're forced to count them?

Wasn't that vampires? That might have been vampires. You should ask Mira about it.

The star is flying back in your face and repeatedly bonking your forehead. “Okay, okay! I'm getting up!” You pull yourself to your feet as it stays level with your eye. You watch as it seems to realize those little ding ding sounds it makes aren't understandable. Then you see it fly over to a stick on the ground and pick it up with a strange amount of strength compared to its body size!

S-t-a-r-d-u-s-t it spells in the dirt, then draws some crude art of you.

“Me?”

It nods, draws a stick figure of itself, weirdly without a spiky light head, and then spells out /-o-o-p.

“Your name is Loop?”

It nods once more! It– Oh, they're spelling pronouns and some sort of introduction. They then write I'm here to help with the (time)loops!

So you did go back in time!!! And Loop is your guide? You're not sure what you'd need help with. If you can get past that trap then you should be set to defeat the King! Especially if you can retry as much as you want.

Loop seems to understand your line of thinking and ponders on what else to write. Whatever explanations they have might be too long to comfortably say. You could probably read their finger-writing in the dirt, but then you'd have to press yourself against the ground to see it. So tiny...

If they just had some ink they could use their whole body to write… And they wouldn't be digging themself into dirt.

Oh! Duh!

“Let's go ask Odile for a pen–”

They frantically shake their head and pull on your cloak collar before you could walk off. Rude! “What? It'd make it easier for you, right?”

Loop can't decide on how to explain themself for a while, but they end up going back to their own name and underlining it repeatedly. Why was…

Suddenly you get it. If Odile asks why there's a little mystical creature following you around that needs a pen, she'd eventually figure out you just looped back in time. That you died. And you can't let her know that you failed everyone at the start of the House!

“I can't tell them about the loops, I get it now…”

They don't seem too happy at that conclusion, but they shrug it off and choose to sit themself on the brim of your hat. Alright then.

Did you mess up saying Odile’s name? Is Loop trying to help you without getting you stuck in whatever fantasy realm they come from? That must be why they called you Stardust. Does a name have to be self-given or is just knowing the name enough for them??

You really need to ask Mira about whatever creature Loop is, she might have some books on it.

Loop’s light disappears as you enter Dormont proper. You poorly go through the same conversation as yesterday with the exception of not making Mirabelle sad. Success!!! Then you watch as she sits on the library bench to sort through various papers, just like yesterday, today, whatever time it is now. Would it be too weird to ask her about Loop right after you just talked?

Might as well. “Hey, Mira? What were those, um… Fantasy people? Tiny and can fly?”

Her brows furrow in concentration, or confusion, before her eyes light up. “Oh! Fairies? What about them?”

“I dunno,” You shrug, hoping you don't sound suspicious (of what???) “I was thinking about them but couldn't remember what they were called… Thank you!”

You run off before it gets too awkward. Loop returns, seemingly uncaring about being visible to the Running One. They flutter in front of your face and point at you while bouncing…?

They're laughing!

They're laughing at you?! Was it that weird?! Stars, you shouldn't have run off like that, huh…

Oh well. Loop’s gone by the time you head to the clocktower. Time to see how they can help you beat the King.