Chapter Text
Another day, another letter. The pile grows larger and the hours longer. Since you (and the rest of the world) unfroze not a day goes by without pacing the room, the beach, wherever your feet bring you. The rippling anxiety is becoming effortless. You’re so exhausted. Whiplash would drain anyone of their strength in the end.
But! The newest letter. It arrived with Marloe the postwoman this morning. She smiled brightly as she handed you the mail, “Looks like they’re getting closer!”
You bite your lip as you take the letters from their hand, eyes locked on some very familiar handwriting. You ask, “What makes you say that?”
“Look at the return address.” She taps the corner of Boniface’s letter, “This came from Leawynn’s post office not two days ago!”
Your heart clenches with each smiling breath. Eagerly thanking her, you rush back inside to read what could be the final letter in a series of letters. Like your favorite book coming to a close. But this is happening just outside your door. All your wildest hopes, the best possible outcome - Somehow, something in this vicious world has gone right.
Boniface ran. And they found safety. They found protection. Heroes, saviors, a group of warriors who literally saved the world with your sibling in tow. It was a remarkable and inspiring story to anyone in town, and probably all of Vaugarde and the world beyond.
To you, relief and stress blended in a cacophony of noise ringing in your ears. You thought your tinnitus was bad before the King’s curse spread. Now you can’t go a moment without the piercing tones clouding your senses.
Deep breaths. See a doctor when you can afford it. Bonnie comes first.
You tear into the letter like a kid on Snowmelt Dawn. These letters are the best gifts you could possibly receive. You’ve been learning so much about this cast of characters, each of them writing a bit about themselves in each letter. Bonnie said (rather, they wrote) it was their idea. Such a smart kid. Now, when they bring four strangers (four adults) home, you won’t be so unprepared.
You hope they recognize how considerate Bonnie is. You shake your head, your braided ponytail slapping your shoulders. Start reading. A saga is coming to a close.
.
Dear Nille,
WE’RE ALMOST HOME!!!! We’re in Leawynn, we stopped at this little place to take showers and sleep in real beds and eat food. And!!! I bought LOTS of ingredients and food and stuff. I'm gonna cook a BIG dinner for everyone when I get home.
Dile says by the time you read this, we’ll be outside Bambouche. If she didn’t need so many naps-
(The paper is crinkled a little here, seems as though “Dile” pulled the letter from Bonnie.)
Odile here. I wouldn’t need so much sleep if someone didn’t wake me up asking every question under the sun. But, yes: We should be there shortly. If postal schedules are to be trusted.
(You don’t like that Odile complained about Bonnie. But she’s hard to gauge through text alone. The others are far more verbose. Well, Mirabelle and Isabeau are. Siffrin doesn’t write much but always draws a little smile or frown or whatever they’re feeling.)
(More crinkles, seemingly flattened out. You recognize Mirabelle’s flowery handwriting.)
I’m excited to finally meet you! Bonnie has told us so much, I feel like we’re already great friends! They said you like detective stories? I have this book, “Mirrors of a Changeless Age” . I think you’ll like it!
(Right. She’s a Housemaiden of Change. That’s fine. That’ll be fine.)
(The pencil-lines have darkened, like too much force is being pressed into the paper. Isabeau.)
Nille! I keep asking Bonnie if you prefer your full name but they don’t seem to care what you think. In a good way!! I mean! They like your nickname! So, I bet you do too? Maybe?? Never mind. WE GOTTA JUMP IN THE RING!! SPARRING MATCH, FIRST THING WE DO WHEN WE MEET!!
(You smirk. Bonnie’s described him as a “huge tough mountain with a soft gooey center” so… maybe you have a chance in a fight? Your boxing gloves could use a dust-off.)
(One last piece of unique handwriting from the quiet one.)
I hope you like us! :D
(Shouldn’t be too hard. Even if they’re strangers to you. You haven’t been able to write them back because they’re always on the move. The long road from Dormont to Bambouche has gnawed at you every day and night. You hope you like them all, too.)
(You hope you can set aside your fears.)
(Bonnie’s taken the letter back to finish it off.)
What a dumb thing to say. Of COURSE you’ll like everyone. They’re great. Don’t tell them I said that.
(You’re so going to tell them.)
See you soon, Nille! OH go buy some peanuts. I ran out. Can’t find more in the city.
(A please would have been nice. Each of them signed their names at the bottom. This chapter is over, the book is closed.)
You can’t stop smiling. Even with all your nagging fears and trepidations, this is the most excited you’ve ever been. After so many months (some frozen and some melted) Bonnie is coming home. You can finally get back to normal. Go to work without worrying that they’ll show up at the house and you’re not there. Fall asleep with the ocean waves instead of the never-ending static in your ears. Cook meals for two again instead of crying over a meal for one.
You’ll need to cook meals for six, at least until the saviors all go home. Though, Bonnie has been bragging about how much better they’ve gotten at cooking. You wish you could have seen them grow a little.
A frown sneaks onto your face. Shake it off, kiddo. If they’re almost here, you need to get outside and be on lookout. There’s a lot inside the house that still needs to be cleaned or fixed before you have guests, but you’ve done all you can. Your old bedroom still has that massive hole in the wall after the last storm (sleeping on the couch in the living room has somehow gotten comfortable). The bathroom faucet isn’t working. Banging on it with a hammer hasn’t worked (as often it doesn’t) but you can’t afford a plumber. Maybe one of the Saviors has some secret talents? Anything to avoid washing toilet-hands in the kitchen sink.
That’ll all have to wait. You grab your monocular (one of the last things you took from your old home) and step outside, the screen door rattling against the wall behind you. Your sandals sink into the sand a little and the high-noon sun warms your scalp. Closer to the ocean now the waves drown out the ringing in your ears and the thoughts in your head.
You raise the monocular to your eye and extend it. The dirt road to the southeast weaves between grass and sand, where the beach meets the firm earth. Leawynn is at the end of that road and Bonnie must be taking it home.
Unless they took a carriage through the south road? Maybe you should head into town and wait there. No, no. They’ll stick to the shore. Bonnie knows the shortest distance between two points is a straight line.
They’ll stick to the shore.
You should be able to see them.
…Breathe, Pétronille. Breathe. They’ll come.
You lower your monocular and stare out into the ocean. Two islands break the horizon: Mwudu’s rocky coast to the east with it’s towering mountains touching the sky, and another to the north. The horizon swallows that island away every time you look at it. You can’t help but feel lost and empty when you look, and a headache strikes when you try to remember its name.
If there was anyone living there, you hope they’re okay.
Again you allow the crashing waves on the shores into your ears. You close your eyes and breathe in the salty air. Your heart is rabbiting, but you don’t think a panic attack is coming on. Last thing you need right now.
The beach is soothing enough, though. Back to your sentry. You scan the beach with your monocular down the road to Leawynn.
Movement. There, right there, do you see it? Dark shimmers against the edge of the sky. Could be anyone. Could be animals. Could be the wind. But they’re getting closer. Or larger. That’d be quite the sight, some distant creatures expanding toward the sun. You’d say these were fairytales but the King’s Curse put things in perspective. Nothing is impossible.
Reunions included.
The shimmer becomes four, three tall and one short. Crab. Must be a different group of travelers. You groan and sit down in the sand. They’re not coming. They’re not coming. Give it up, go inside, eat lunch alone.
Stop it. You smack your temple to force those thoughts out. Then you smack it again until it stings. You stand up and look down the-
There!!
There’s not four, there’s five!! Bonnie is getting a piggyback ride from one of the Saviors!! They’re staring into a pair of binoculars and you frantically wave to get their attention.
“Bonnie!!” You call out into the wind. Their head turns as they scan and finally, finally, they lock eyes with you. They quickly pass the binoculars to the Savior who takes a look. Bonnie lifts their arms up high and waves back as hard as they can.
They made it! They’re alive!! This wasn’t some fever dream, some anxious scenario your brain dreamed up. This is it!
You drop the monocular in the sand and run. Your sandals continue to sink down, you should have put on proper shoes. You ditch them and run barefoot, hot sands biting at your soles. They’re all getting closer, and they’re running too! You try to control your breaths but you can feel tears streaming down your face. You’ll be bawling soon, as much as you try to hide that side of yourself from anyone.
You call out your sibling’s name again, and they’re calling out yours and still waving atop the savior’s shoulders. An idle thought asks in the back of your mind, how is that savior not sweating like a crab in that cloak?! Doesn’t matter. Closer, closer, closer still.
They look… good. Healthy. Not covered in scrapes or bruises or tattered clothes like you expected. You’ll still need to check them out. Just in case they- Woah!
“NILLE!!!” In a swift motion of sheer agility, Bonnie stands on the savior’s shoulders and jumps to the ground. They charge toward you ahead of the group and you scream through your tears,
“BONNIE!!!” They tackle you and knock you backward into the sands, you wrap your arms around them so tightly you fear their back might snap. Anything to keep them beside you. You’re choking on your sobs as you kiss their forehead. They’re crying too, of course they are. They’re tough, so are you, but this isn’t a time for bravado or posturing. Let it all out.
Back and forth you both incredulously state the obvious. “You’re okay!” “I was so worried!” “I can’t believe it!” “I missed you so much!” Talking over each other as months of anguish sail away like a ship on the tides.
(If you hadn’t sent them away, they would have woken up next to you.)
You catch a glimpse of the saviors. The taller woman is very much out of breath. Must be Odile. The short woman and buff man are wiping away their own tears, Mirabelle and Isabeau. The cloaked one, the one that carried Bonnie - They’re smiling so widely you can count their teeth. You wonder how they lost their eye. Siffrin, that’s his name.
It’s hard to hear over both of your sobs, but Odile says something through her tired exhales. “I can’t believe it’s finished…”
Siffrin looks up at her and chuckles, "Finished? Funny, I think we’re just getting started.”
You have no idea what he means but you don’t care. It is finished. It’s time to go home, to start again. Feels like years since you were able to breathe so easily, to let go, to hug your sibling. Bonnie is alive. You think you’ve actually just said that aloud. Not the best thing to say to them but it needs to be said. Feels real again.
Minutes fade into hours and days and weeks of you two hugging and crying. But eventually, you stand and brush the sand off to find not a single moment has passed. Bonnie clings to your waist like a lifeline. You take a few deep breaths and get a better look at your saviors. Not much time to take it all in before you do what you must.
“I…” A lump forms in your throat. You close your eyes and swallow it down to try again. “I can’t thank you enough, all of you.” You had a little speech prepared for them all, rehearsed back and forth between you and the mirror. Gratitude is important and you want to get it right. Still, as they look upon you with smiles and tears, the words vanish like gulls over the ocean. “I don’t think I can ever repay you.”
Isabeau laughs, a hearty and powerful sound that makes you jump and want to look over your shoulder. He says, “We should thank you! Bonnie’s done so much for us, I don’t know what we’d do without them!”
Really? They weren’t a bother? You’re glad to hear. Bonnie is capable of handling themselves but never got along in groups very well.
Mirabelle sniffles and clasps her hands together at her chest. Her brooch jingles, symbols of Change rattling alongside your quieting tinnitus. You shudder. She cheerfully adds, “They’re an excellent chef!”
Oh, they didn’t blow up the camp stove? Good!
Odile arches her back and stretches, tucking more hairs behind her ears. Neat and composed, or she tries to be. What is she hiding behind that composure? “And they have a unique perspective. We’re all very glad to know them.”
“Lucky we found them.” Siffrin, the quiet one, tilts his head and smiles. They’re… familiar, somehow. You can’t put your finger on it. The accent, maybe?
No time for deduction. Thank them again, profusely if it gets your point across. You open your mouth only to inhale sharply. Bonnie hugs you tighter and you bring your fist to your jaw, biting your finger nervously. It’s too much. This is just too much.
Isabeau walks closer (too close) and outspreads his muscular arms. “Are you a hugger? I feel like you’re a hugger.”
Odile shakes her head, “Isabeau, we’ve just met her. Shake her hand first.”
He looks over his shoulder and smirks, “Why shake her hand when I can pick her up and shake all of her instead?”
“That doesn’t make sense.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. Embarrassed? Frustrated? You can’t read any of them, not yet. You need to figure them out quickly if you’re ever to let them get close.
“Sure it does!” He turns back to you, “Skip the formalities and go for the kill! Whaddya say, Nille?”
Nicknames? So soon? He must be used to Bonnie’s nickname for you, since it’s all they call you. Your gut tells you to turn him down and hold out your hand. But again, Bonnie hugs you tighter. You sigh and relent with a bit of a forced smile, “Sure. I-”
He barrels into you like a charging wildebeest. His embrace is a vice and you immediately feel trapped. Your heart is pounding, you want to push him away, to wriggle out of his death-grip and grab your hammer. You look down to see if Bonnie has been defeated by this (loving) hug. They’re still there, unbothered and calm.
With a hum and a squeeze, Isabeau relinquishes his grip and steps back with his hands on your shoulders. “We’re gonna be great friends. Bonnie told me you’re in Bambouche’s boxing league?”
You clear your throat and try not to think about how this stranger just hugged you. Candidly, you nod and say, “That’s right.”
He taps your shoulders and says, “Great! I haven’t boxed in ages. Up for a little one-on-one?” He leans in and loudly whispers, “I love these people,” he nods toward the group, “But they can’t handle my manly punches.”
Siffrin’s smile slacks disapprovingly.
Mirabelle crosses her arms and says, “I can handle them! I simply choose not to!”
Odile chuckles, “Siffrin here is the only one who can take a real hit from our resident fighter.”
He slinks into his collar and shrugs. That’s… an odd reaction.
Finally, Isabeau takes his hands off you and backs up. You can breathe again. He says, “True, true. But I mean, a proper spar! Two warriors, fisticuffs, pugilism! The art of the duel!” You suspect that he’s the life of every party, a gentle giant of sorts.
“Isabeau,” Mirabelle smiles and shakes her head, “Maybe let’s get to know her before we put her in the ring?”
“Fair enough!” He grins at you, and you try to smile back. Too many people, too many strangers. But, Bonnie trusts them. You’ve never met a better judge of character.
Bonnie squirms against you. They haven’t said much. You tussle their hair under their pillowy hat. “I got some soup heated up, if you’re hungry.”
They look up at you and grin, snot bubbling from their nose. “Yeah! What kinda soup?”
“Beef barley.” One of their favorites.
“I LOVE BEEF BARLEY SOUP!!!” They gently punch your leg a few times, “We gotta go all the way back to the house? Why didn’t you bring some?!”
You laugh in earnest, “Would it be better if I was carrying soup when you tackled me?!”
“I WOULDN’T HAVE TACKLED YOU IF YOU HAD SOUP!!” They roll their eyes and run toward Odile, grabbing her hand and pulling. “Come on! I wanna show you my room!”
Odile takes her hand back, “I’ve been tricked by that hand more times than I can count in the last few weeks. Did you wash them after our last bathroom break?”
Don’t talk down to them. The thought passes but it’s something to keep an eye on.
Bonnie crosses their arms and bemoans, “Yes, Dile. I washed them.”
“Are you sure?” She glares at them but has a hint of a smirk.
“YES!!” Bonnie stamps their boot in the sand, “Ask Belle, she was there!”
“It’s true, Madame Odile. I saw the whole thing!”
Madame Odile? Does she insist on that title? So many questions. You should have brought your notebook.
“A likely story.” Odile cracks a full smile and says, “Next time, maybe. I can’t keep up if you try to run, you’ll take my whole arm with you.”
“Fine.” Bonnie perks up and says, “I’ll take Frin’s hand! Frin-?” They look around, as do you all. Where did he go?
Siffrin is only a few feet from the group but somehow snuck away unnoticed. He’s standing closer to the shore and staring off into the sea. Northward, toward that crack in the horizon. The nameless island.
Ah. That’s why you recognized their accent. It’s the same as Tasha’s.
“FRIN!!” Bonnie yells toward them. Unnecessarily so: he’s right there. “Come see my room!”
He turns around with a bright smile and nods. Bonnie charges toward him and takes his hand. Together they lead the group up the beach and toward your house. You’re about to let strangers in your home. Just remember where you keep your tools.
(a sharp tone flares in your eardrums and you wince)
…Stop thinking like that. They saved Bonnie. Bonnie trusts them. Now you need to trust Bonnie.
Soup sounds pretty good right about now.