Let’s Not [Obliterate]

 

It took a while for Theora to calm down. She only managed to take a proper look at the Frame on the third try. There were well over a dozen people in it, standing in front of Dema’s house, smiling at the viewer.

Dema, having patiently waited, happily took the opportunity to point at the first person and go, “Lostina!”

Lostina looked a few years older now. Her black hair was fuller and shorter. She was smiling wide, holding what looked like Theora’s copy of To Hell With the Author.

“She’s the one who like, organised it all.” Dema made a motion encompassing the entire picture. “You know how there’s a Class called [Summoner] in their world? And how you made a big mess and scratched a hole between theirs and ours?” Theora flinched. She did remember. “Well, after we were gone, Lostina ended up researching that because she figured, if [Summoners] can open rifts to the world of Errata, then why not to ours too? She tracked down some items you left behind to use as guides, and found a [Summoner] who offered to help.” She pointed at another person in the picture, next to Lostina. “Decided to get framed too, for some reason.”

Then, Dema tapped Gonell. “When Gonell’s time in the first Frame ran out, she went to help with the asylum for a few years. She joined the Frame later.”

Theora looked up, wiping away tears. “Joined later?”

Dema nodded. “Yeah! At the start they never sealed themselves for long. Didn’t know when you’d be back, so they were like, let’s just stash ourselves away for a year or two and see what’s up when we get out. They also wanted to let stragglers join. Gonell joined at the fifth time or so? I think Lostina also skipped one or two framings to live with Gonell for a while.”

Somehow, the idea that people were using the Frame of the Lost like a carriage moving them closer to Theora and hopping on and off as they pleased almost made Theora start crying again, but she tried to focus as Dema continued her explanation.

“Fia!” she said, pointing at a woman in her mid-twenties. Braided, silver hair, still the same boyish coquette clothing, but not looking like a child anymore. “She and Skuld spent like ten years trying to find other Giant Rhinos. But then they kinda figured they must really all be gone. So then they decided to come back to us.”

Theora frowned. “I can’t see Skuld.”

“Oh, yeah!” Dema looked up, giggling. “She wouldn’t fit in the Frame! Too large. So Fia finally got to see her ‘in person’.” She pointed at a woman grumpily staring away in the back row with a gigantic horn on her head. She had grey skin with red outlines, and looked large even in human-shape. She also had two rhino-ears and was well-endorsed with curves and muscles. She seemed somewhat embarrassed, too.

“Ah, and here’s Kara,” Dema said, pointing at nothing. “Harrik’s sister. Don’t worry, she’s just invisible. She joined when she was the same age as her brother, standing next to her. Probably to tease him or something. That blotch there in the window is the Shade. Was a bit shy, but it worked out. Ah, and here are Hel and Bal. Their daughter moved away from Hallmark at some point, so they said their goodbyes, since they weren’t going to see each other much after. The two didn’t want to live the rest of their lives out alone, so they decided to join the Frame too.”

Then, she pointed at Ulfine. “She said she’s only in it for ‘research’. I guess she wants to see you find all of Time.”

Even Ulfine… Theora’s gaze wandered around. “I don’t think I recognise all the others.”

“Family of people who joined, and stuff. Friends. Some decided to join just to meet you, I guess? To say thanks for saving their lives. Not like anyone had a reason to say no to people who wanted to join.”

Theora frowned. “They would sacrifice all their time just to meet me?”

Dema raised her eyebrows. “’Course they would! I mean,” she grazed over the picture, “you didn’t hesitate to throw away part of your life for them, either. Makes sense to me.”

It made sense? How did this make sense? Theora had only done the absolute bare minimum — after causing all the issues in the first place. She’d apologise to all of them once they got back.

“But like,” Dema went on, “of course, eventually they kinda grew tired of reframing themselves every year. From their perspective, no time passes, so they’d just have to go in and out of Frame non-stop for weeks or months. So when it became clear you’d be gone for a while, they increased the sealing time. Will take a while until they get out again.”

“A while.” Theora inspected the picture as closely as she could, trying to engrave every detail into her memory. “How long?”

With a thoughtful hum, Dema got up and stretched. “Like. Right now… Ninety years? About that.”

Theora’s eyes widened. Ninety years? She stared at Dema, then back at the Frame.

Lostina. Gonell. Fia. Skuld. Hell and Balinth. All of them.

She would get to see all her friends again in just ninety years?

They’d all decided to stay, just for her, and they’d be back in the blink of an eye so she could hug them and never let go. Theora sniffed. “I’m the luckiest person in the entire world.”

Dema snorted.

After scanning the picture a moment longer, Theora asked, “What happened to Treeka?”

“Ah! She’s in the garden room, in a pot.”

“‘In a pot’?”

Dema nodded. “Yeah! The spirit transmission Skill needed to put her into a body that can grow together with her. So we decided to wait for fruit season, and then Bell transplanted Treeka’s spirit into one of her own seeds. The seed grew into a new tree and kept growing and growing, but eventually it died, so we transplanted her again. She’s a seedling now. Will probably take a while until she can talk again.”

Even Treeka had made it. Oh, this was incredible. “I can’t believe they waited for me. I can’t believe it. They gave up everything for me. For me.” Theora hiccuped. “How can I ever repay them?”

Dema gave a smile of indulgence. “Bun Bun, they didn’t wait, as, like, a favour. Pretty sure they stayed because they wanted to see you again. And like, ’course they did! I’d do the same! You’re worth any wait, no matter how long!”

Theora knew that wasn’t true, but hearing it made her feel fluffy and warm anyway. This was the best dream she’d ever had. Except it was all real, which made it an even better dream.

She blinked. Those thoughts didn’t make a lot of sense. “I think I’m a bit tired.”

“No being tired!”

Theora let out a laugh. “Why not? I may have slept almost all the way home, but it wasn’t very restful. A bed would be better, perhaps.”

With a frown, Dema went, “You gotta stay with us a bit longer! Alright?”

Mildly amused, Theora tilted her head. “I expected you to support me getting some rest.”

“I do!” Dema hopped up and down a few times. “But if you sleep now, you’re gonna sleep for a long time, right? Probably?”

Theora rubbed her eyes. They were very tired. “Probably.”

Dema nodded. “And you said you felt like this might be a dream? But it’s not! So if you go to bed right now… you might feel like it was all a dream again. Right?” Dema stared intensely. “So maybe stay up with us and talk to us for a while to make sure it’s all real?”

Theora couldn’t argue with that logic, it was far too sound.

 

First, they took a bath. For Dema, it was the first bath in years, and she acted the part, overjoyed in splashing hot water all over the dark slabs of the basement bathtub. For Theora, it was the first bath in centuries.

She took solace in the steam. The water uncoiled her muscles strained from the weightless conditions of space. She hadn’t realised how she’d been willfully overwriting the demands of her body to keep herself steady and moving. 

Staying awake was so very difficult. And yet, to the best of her ability, Theora tried. She gave it her all. Her very all.

“Alright,” Dema said, waking her up. “We’ve been in here for like, an hour or two. Wanna get out?” She stretched, letting out a raspy moan. “Gosh, that was great. You doing alright?”

“I am doing alright.” Dozing off in warm water had been such a luxury. Theora pushed herself up and put on a dress Dema had fetched from some cabinet along the way. Theora had lost a little bit of weight. The dress felt loose, despite appearing to be the same size as the ones she used to wear. “I think I might be hungry. Perhaps I should go and bake bread for all of us.”

“Oh, we have a really cool bread oven now!” Dema pointed up, vaguely in the direction of the yard. “You should definitely try it when you have the chance.”

“I shall. Could you help me walk? It’s difficult somehow.”

Dema wrapped Theora’s arm over her own shoulder, then gently grabbed her hip to keep her up.

“You could use more force, if you wanted to,” Theora said.

Dema tightened her grip, and it was a blessing. Theora had not expected to miss the sensation of feeling pressure on her bones so much. 

“Done down there?” Isobel yelled into the basement. “Dinner’s ready!”

The dining room was in the other wing of the house — not far, but they had to go up the stairs and then walk down the corridor. Theora barely remembered any of this. When Bell carried several plates past them, Theora noticed how slow she and Dema were. They both really needed sleep. 

Antankla was helping set the table, and her movements seemed so practised that Theora assumed she must have spent quite some time in this house. Isobel was already sitting in a chair, hopping side-to-side on it with clicks and clacks, smiling. Bell only sat down once Theora and Dema had found their places.

A big pot filled with potato vegetable stew was waiting for them, and when everyone was sitting, Isobel jumped up — first reaching for Theora’s bowl.

“Oh, no,” Theora let out. “The others were probably hungry, too. I didn’t manage to help at all.”

Isobel ignored her, and so Theora helplessly had to watch being the first to receive food. Bell giggled at her plight.

“You should probably all go to bed after this,” Bell mused. She had her tendrils braided and was pointing at the others with her spoon. “You’re all spent.”

“Wha?” Dema let out. “All of us?”

“I mean, yes.” Bell watched Iso fill her bowl, then took it with a single loosened tendril, before braiding it back into her hair. “Dema is overspent on mana, and she died on impact. None was [Computing] your route for years to make sure there weren’t any mistakes, and the last days of making sure launch goes well have been rough on them too.”

“I’m fine!” Iso chirped.

“And Antankla just told us the trip here took her a week. A week in the rain. I’m surprised she can still stand.”

“You are the one to talk,” Antankla said, cheerfully. 

Bell flushed, looking at her lap. 

“I don’t think you are wrong, though,” Antankla continued. “I, for my part, could definitely rest a little. I honestly didn’t expect to meet you properly.” She gestured to both Theora and Dema. “So I’m glad that you made it back safely.”

“Oh, right!” Dema said. “You’ve been wanting to ask Bun Bun a question, right? Could do that now!”

“If you don’t mind.”

It took Theora a moment to realise Antankla was addressing her. “I don’t. Please do.”

“Well. As you may know, I met your friends in the Lands of the Dead, after someone put my soul into this body.” Theora wasn’t sure she knew any of that. “This brain, unusually, still has some fragments of memories. The original owner had volunteered their body for use as a vessel for me after dying — they were a [Mage], though, so maybe I should have expected potential quirks. Be that as it may — those memories speak of a hidden location. I have spent some time researching this place out of curiosity, and the research led me to you. So, my question is this — have you been to the Silver Quaints?”

It was difficult to follow along, and Theora tried her best. She sifted through what little remained in her head, in hopes that any of this might ring a bell.

It didn’t. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I remember.”

“Theora,” Bell said, sternly. She was staring, and her blue skin flared in faint bioluminescent frizzles. “You’ve been lost in a hostile environment for almost two hundred years. No sound, nothing to see, nothing to feel. It is a miracle that you even remember our names. Don’t be ‘sorry’ for not recalling some small detail.”

“I didn’t think she meant that kind of sorry!” Isobel said, cheerily. 

Dema squirmed. “I’m pretty sure she did.”

Bell turned to Antankla. “In any case, An — Let Theora spend a while back on this planet, among people. That might help. Also, you could give her a book to read on the lore of that place.”

“That’s a very good idea,” Antankla said, nodding. “Thank you, Theora if you’d be willing to read it, of course. Since this matter is dear to the donor of this body, it is quite important to me too, so please forgive my brashness.”

Theora shook her head. “Feel free to be brash with me. I will do my best.” 

Dema giggled. “An’s being really polite today. Makes me nostalgic.”

Bell tutted. “You are going to make her self-conscious.”

Indeed, Antankla was averting her face. “I-In any case,” she said, “Thank you. I will bring books when I come over next time. I’ll have to find some that aren’t written in Relief.”

 

“Bedtime!” Dema cheered. 

It was dark outside by now. Theora lay down, drawing Dema close. “Bedtime.”

Leaves rustled outside among the pattering of the Rains of Fire. Neither of the two closed their eyes. They just kept gazing at each other, holding hands. 

Dema finally gave in with a laugh. “Can’t sleep.”

Theora took a deep breath. “I can’t, either.”

“Why not?”

Theora bit her lips. “Do you sometimes think everything might be too good to be true?”

“Overthinking again, huh?”

“Maybe.” Theora grazed over Dema’s fingers. “I don’t know. I thought things were too good to be true during our return journey. But I had that thought even before I got lost in the Grand Voids. When I look at you, I think, this may be too good to be true. And that… that I might wake up. That it was all a dream. And that, in reality, I haven’t ever met you.”

Dema pulled her closer. “I was really surprised when someone came into the Cube of Solitude after so long. And yeah, I thought it was pretty neat when I could convince you to tag along so I didn’t have to be alone. I think meeting you was like, the best thing ever for me. And even while you were up there, I knew we’d get you back. I knew we’d come for you.”

Theora nodded. “I still wish I’d come for you earlier.”

“You know,” Dema rasped. “I waited.”

“What? You waited?”

“Isobel did the manipulation thingy, and then Bell received the Orb, and gave it to me. And then I waited.”

“You waited,” Theora echoed.

“Yeah. I really wanted to snap it. But I was a little stunned. Left you up there for almost ten seconds. Hurts, right? I’m a bad girl. Should have come for you earlier.”

“I don’t understand what you are saying. That does not compare.”

“It does!”

“Two wrongs don’t make a right.”

Dema shrugged. “Call it revenge, then?”

Theora shook her head and frowned. “You didn’t even do it on purpose. I forgive you. What do you mean, you waited ten seconds? You should have waited a bit longer. Made sure you were ready. It was a big jump. You didn’t even know where you might end up. I could have been anywhere. You should have waited longer than ten seconds.”

“That’s it, then,” Dema whispered. “You made sure you were ready.”

Theora’s eyelids fluttered, having her own words used against her like that. It was incredibly unfair and untrue but she was too tired to argue with it.

“And,” Dema continued, “so what if it’s a dream? I’m gonna find you.” She stroked down Theora’s arm, and then closed a soft grip around the blood bracelet. “We’re gonna find each other, ‘cause we’ll still have these. They are dream-proof!”

Theora huffed out a laugh. “You just made that up.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true. Dream-proof.”

Theora nodded, and finally pulled the blanket over Dema. Dema spread the other half over Theora.

“We’re dream-proof,” Theora murmured.

Dema nodded against her forehead. “Sleep well, Bun Bun.”