Chapter 429 - Delineate
The sound of children’s laughter spilled through the crowded room as Fynn’s siblings clambered all over him. Scarlett stood near the corner with her arms folded, watching Fynn’s youngest brother—Kelnorin—quite literally swing from Fynn’s outstretched arm like some sort of tiny pendulum. It forced an unprepared Allyssa to scoot back from the nearby table, coffee cup in hand, before she could be clipped in the head.
Kat let out a short laugh beside her. Shin didn’t bother hiding his amusement either.
“Kel,” Velryrth snapped, the eldest sister—who was only a couple of years younger than Allyssa—fixing the small white-haired gremlin with a hard look. “Stop it. You’re going to hurt someone.”
Kelnorin stopped swinging, still hanging from Fynn’s arm. He frowned at Velryrth, but then a single look from Fynn made him pout and glance back towards Allyssa.
“Sorry…” he muttered.
Allyssa broke off from whatever silent exchange of glares she’d been having with Kat and Shin, blinked once, and offered an awkward smile. “It’s fine. Just try to be more careful.”
Kelnorin nodded, solemn for maybe all of half a second.
“Sure.”
Then he immediately went back to climbing over Fynn, demanding that he show how strong he’d gotten.
At the same time, Fynn’s other two siblings—a younger girl with cropped hair named Inayra and a teenage boy named Themyar—worked together to try to shove him off balance. They barely managed to move him, huffing with effort and muttering complaints under their breath as though the laws of physics were personally insulting them.
It seemed to be a theme. All of them, instinctively, had sensed that Fynn was stronger than he’d been the last time they’d seen him, and they were determined to test it.
Even Velryrth appeared tempted, judging by the occasional look she sent Fynn. But unlike her younger siblings, she seemed more aware of appearances with so many strangers in the house, staying seated at the table with Allyssa and the others instead of joining the chaos.
Meanwhile, a dark-haired woman with faint threads of grey moved around the room with careful energy, offering tea or coffee to anyone who wanted one and doing her best to play host. She looked mildly overwhelmed by the sudden crowd, but she didn’t complain.
Franka was, for all practical purposes, the children’s caretaker while Fynn was away. From what Scarlett remembered of her from the last visit—and from what Fynn had told her—she had once been close to his mother, though never involved in the Grehaldrael tribe’s affairs.
She probably had enough to deal with on an ordinary day, handling a bunch of miniature Fynns with evidently far more reckless energy than the original. With Scarlett’s currently oversized party descending on the place on top of that, it was impressive that Franka was still trying to keep everything moving.
That said, she hadn’t spoken much to Scarlett’s group beyond polite offers, even if Rosa had managed to draw her into a brief exchange when she handed her a cup. That was why Scarlett had been mildly surprised to see Franka pause for a few minutes to speak with Skyler and Regina, who somehow fit the room better than Scarlett’s party did — or at least knew how to soften their presence where they sat at the far end of the table.
Though Scarlett couldn’t help wondering how Franka might react if she realised Regina was an imperial princess.
Of the people who had travelled with them, the only ones not present right now were Carnwedain, Nol’viz, and Oveth.
Carnwedain and Nol’viz simply hadn’t seemed particularly suited to this sort of environment. They didn’t know anyone here, and they weren’t the sort to join in conversation either, which was why Scarlett had told them it was fine to wait outside. That likely meant two very still figures were currently standing somewhere near the house like decorative statues, not doing much of anything.
Oveth’s absence had been more practical. It had become clear almost immediately after the initial introductions that Fynn’s siblings were uneasy around him, and Franka, being a completely ordinary person, had grown visibly uncomfortable with him nearby. Oveth had taken the hint and wandered off to explore the outskirts of the settlement while they settled in. He’d seemed used to the role, so Scarlett hadn’t interfered.
As she watched Fynn and his siblings, her gaze drifted across the room and landed, inevitably, on Skyler’s group. There, she found herself meeting Briana Smythe’s eyes.
The Oathbound knight sat near the fireplace, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, watching Scarlett with a hard, assessing look.
They regarded one another for several seconds.
Scarlett let the corner of her mouth curl into a faint, deliberately knowing smile.
Briana’s expression only hardened.
Scarlett had had very little direct interaction with Briana. Between them, they’d exchanged maybe a handful of words at most. Still, it didn’t take much effort to tell that Briana didn’t like her.
Skyler, Regina, and the others all seemed to have more complicated reactions — a blend of unease tangled up with trust, grudging acceptance, curiosity, and caution. Briana was much simpler. She didn’t even bother hiding her hostility.
In most situations, that would arguably have been a mistake. Given the position Skyler’s group was in, openly showing that sort of contempt might have implied poor judgement. Scarlett had more than enough ways to make their lives difficult if she felt so inclined.
In Briana’s case, though, Scarlett knew it was the opposite.
Of everyone in Skyler’s group, the Oathbound woman probably had the clearest read on her. She’d already judged that Scarlett wouldn’t retaliate over something like this, and she was making it plain—without words—that she would protect Skyler against anything Scarlett might be planning, even if the rest of the group had become more willing to play along.
Naturally, there was a part of Scarlett that bristled at the challenge. But a much larger part didn’t mind it at all. If anything, she was glad her sister had someone like Briana at her side. The only thing that genuinely intrigued her was how Skyler had managed to earn that kind of loyalty so quickly. In the game, Briana’s full oath hadn’t come anywhere near this early.
Eventually, Briana looked away.
Scarlett wasn’t entirely sure why that felt like a small victory.
Her attention drifted instead to Melody, seated close to Skyler and the others but angled slightly towards the corner, almost tucked out of the way. She was fiddling with a half-finished piece of embroidery, head lowered, hood pulled far enough down that the bandages on her face were barely visible.
Scarlett watched her for a while. Then she let her arms fall to her sides and crossed the room, giving Fynn and his siblings as wide a berth as she could. She stopped in front of Melody. Skyler and the others turned to look.
“Melody,” Scarlett said.
The woman looked up, eyes wide, apparently not expecting to be addressed.
“Would you join me for a moment?”
They weren’t staying long. Fynn would spend some time with his family, and then they’d move on to his trial, where their groups would split up. There wouldn’t be much room for anything else by then, so this was the best moment to get this done.
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Melody stared at her for a few seconds, confusion eventually giving way to understanding. She nodded quickly, fumbling with the cloth in her hands as she folded it away.
“Y-Yes… yes. Please, just—wait…”
Her words faded into a quiet mumble as the embroidery disappeared into her robes. Her hands hovered awkwardly in the air for a moment before she tugged at her bandages, adjusting them, then stood. She licked her lips and looked up at Scarlett.
“L-Let’s go…”
Scarlett nodded and turned, only to hear Melody take one step before stopping short. She glanced back, one brow lifting.
“Ah—ah.” Melody’s mouth opened and closed. She looked down at Skyler, who was still watching them closely, then back at Scarlett. “Baroness…”
“Yes?”
Melody hesitated, then seemed to gather her resolve. “Can…Skye join?”
Scarlett studied her, then shifted her gaze to Skyler, who met it evenly.
It didn’t surprise her that Melody had spoken to Skyler about this. Scarlett hadn’t forbidden it, after all. What did surprise her was that Melody had been the one to ask whether Skyler could join. She’d half expected Skyler to do that herself.
“I see no reason why not,” Scarlett said. Then she looked to Regina and Briana. “Do either of you wish to join as well?”
Regina shook her head. “No. While it does sound intriguing, I suspect it might be best if as few of us are involved as possible.”
Briana didn’t speak, but Scarlett took it to mean she agreed with—or accepted—that reasoning.
“Very well. Then come.”
Scarlett turned again, this time flicking a quick look towards Rosa. The bard caught it, lounging back against a chair beside Kat, and shook her head with a small smile. Scarlett had asked if she wanted to be present, but Rosa had decided it was better not to. She’d said it might complicate things, which was fair.
The others glanced at her, but said nothing as Skyler and Melody followed Scarlett towards the exit. She paused only to tell Slate—standing next to the door—to come as well. Together, they passed through the house and out onto a rear porch overlooking a rocky cliffside.
Scarlett didn’t waste time. She conjured the [Eternal Flameweaver’s Athame] and tore open a fiery portal, stepping through it at once.
It brought them to the top of one of the cliffs overlooking the village. From there, the Whitdown Mountains rose to the south in a jagged sweep of snow and stone, while to the east the river cut its way through the land. Farther north, beyond broken cliffs and discoloured earth, lay the Blasted Lands.
A cold wind swept over them. With a thought, Scarlett pushed it back with her pyrokinesis, warming the air around them. Then she turned to Melody.
“Are you ready?”
Melody hesitated, glancing at Skyler and then at Slate, before nodding. “Yes.”
“Good.” Scarlett gestured. “Slate.”
Slate raised her hand, and a long scythe of black and silver appeared within it, light flowing along its haft.
[Eternity Made Whole] looked almost too flawless up close, elegant to the point of excess, and far too tall for the small girl holding it. And yet, in her grasp, it looked exactly where it belonged.
“Melody,” Scarlett said, refocusing on her.
Melody pulled [Adtia’s Silent Aspect] from her robes. She stared at the silver mirror for a moment, thumb tracing the etched patterns along its rim, then closed her eyes.
Argent light spread from beneath her feet, washing over the stone and wrapping them all in a pale glow.
Skyler watched with a slight crease in her brow, lips pressed together.
Scarlett nodded to Slate.
The scythe cut cleanly through the silver light in front of Melody.
Slate was a strange existence in many ways. As powerful as she was, it was easy to fall into the assumption that there was nothing she couldn’t do as the arbiter whose purpose was to enforce the compliance of the laws that governed the realms.
But by herself, there was very little Slate could do.
As much as she was an arbiter, she was also a tool. A magistrate who interpreted and administered laws, but who was fundamentally incapable of acting without the right structures around her. Without context. Without something to anchor her authority.
Unravelling Fate’s framework had required Scarlett’s power and the preparations Yamina had laid down over decades.
Today, just Melody was supposed to be enough. After all, they were only looking to answer a few questions.
Several seconds passed.
Nothing happened.
“The avatar must extend her hand through the tear,” Slate said.
Melody slowly opened her eyes. She looked down at the opening Slate had carved into the argent field. On the other side was a vast darkness, threaded through with faint pinpricks of light that scattered like distant stars.
She looked up at Slate.
Slate returned the look impassively.
Melody hesitated, then glanced at Skyler.
Skyler was quiet for a moment. She looked at Scarlett, then back at Melody, offering a small, steady smile.
“Go on,” she said. “But only if you want to. I’m here.”
Melody’s shoulders loosened, just a little.
She turned back to the tear and stared at it for several long seconds before stepping closer and sinking to her knees. Her movements were slow, as if she were afraid the ground might give way beneath her. Gradually, her hand lowered. Her fingers hovered at the threshold—
—and the moment they passed through, she froze.
Skyler stiffened, taking a half-step forward.
Even Scarlett tensed.
Then the world dimmed.
It didn’t become dark, but their surroundings grew muted, like the air just after nightfall. The argent light beneath them brightened in response, shimmering like the full moon.
Melody gasped and pulled her hand back.
The bandages around her fingers began to dissolve, breaking apart into drifting motes of silver. Clear, unmarked skin was revealed beneath them.
She recoiled.
“Ah, ah, ah—no, no…I can’t—never—”
She brought her hands to her face as the bandages there came undone as well, silver dust slipping through her fingers.
“Melody,” Scarlett said sharply.
Melody went still.
“You are not in danger,” Scarlett continued, keeping her voice firm. “Focus. You wanted to speak with Adtia. This is your opportunity.”
“I—I can’t,” Melody whispered, her voice breaking. Her bare hands pressed against her face, hiding it. “Can’t—can’t be seen. No. No…”
Her words dissolved into fractured murmurs as the argent ground beneath them started shuddering and writhing like it was boiling alive.
“Mel.” Skyler placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “It’s okay. Just breathe. Want to take a breath and count the stars for me?”
Melody shook her head, still muttering under her breath.
Skyler looked up at Scarlett, the uncertainty plain across her face.
Scarlett watched them both, a tight frown forming. She wasn’t sure why the bandages were disappearing, but it was obvious Melody wasn’t prepared for it. To Melody—to the Countess—they had never really been about hiding injuries or scars, even if she might once have told herself that. They had been built around her fears. Around a belief that she herself was unsafe, that her presence caused harm, and that being seen was part of what made that harm happen to those around her.
Just like Countess had never been her real name or title—only a borrowed container she’d imagined and clung to in order to emulate a rigid role with rules—the bandages were part of her identity in the way they imposed boundaries. They told her who she was, where she couldn’t tell that herself.
Accepting the name Melody had been one step towards defining herself, which was why it had genuinely gladdened Scarlett. But the woman still lived partly in a world delineated from reality, and Scarlett had never known a way to fully mend that divide.
And she didn’t know how to handle this either.
Would Melody be fine if they simply looked away?
Unlikely.
The bandages were as much for her to hide from herself as they were for others.
Scarlett reached for her [Pouch of Holding], quickly rifling through it for anything that might replace the coverings, even though she suspected whatever she found would simply dissolve the moment Melody put it on. Skyler noticed the motion and seemed to understand immediately, starting to search through a bag at her side as well.
At least if they could buy her a little time—
“If the avatar is unable to transition between two internal representations, you should enforce an intermediary state,” Slate’s voice cut in.
Scarlett’s eyes snapped to the homunculus as the girl continued watching Melody. Skyler looked at Slate as well, confusion flashing across her face.
Slate turned to Scarlett. “Adtia wishes to enforce resolution of character within her avatar. She does not appear satisfied with an undefined state. This approach is…reckless, I suspect. Should I intervene?”
“Can you?” Scarlett asked severely.
“I can impose an intermediary state.”
“What does that mean?”
Slate paused, her head tilting slightly. “I do not know how to explain it in a way you will find intuitive.”
Scarlett’s frown deepened. She glanced at Skyler, who was looking anxiously between them and Melody, who was crouched on the ground, muttering incomprehensibly. “…Either stop this completely, or fix it using whatever you just described.”
Slate nodded once.
She stepped forward until she was standing directly behind Melody. Her scythe rose into the air.
Skyler lurched forward. “Wait—no—!”
The scythe fell.
It passed straight through the centre of Melody’s head.
There was no blood. No wound. The blade simply travelled through her, light breaking softly around it, and Melody went still. Her muttering stopped.
Skyler halted mid-step, hands frozen just short of grabbing Slate. She stared down at Melody. “Mel…?”
There was no response.
Scarlett looked at the motionless woman, then lifted her gaze to Slate. “What did you do?”
“She could not maintain her own continuity,” Slate replied evenly. “Adtia wanted complete fidelity and internal coherence for communion. The avatar could not provide these. I have instead constrained the communion through a single stabilised pathway.”
Skyler rounded on her. “What does that mean?”
Before Slate could answer, the argent light beneath Melody pulsed. It rippled outward once, then drew inward, condensing into a single luminous thread that rose slowly into the air. The thread twisted, tightening, until it resolved into a single character suspended before them.
Scarlett stared at it, recognition coming only gradually.
It wasn’t modern imperial script. Nor was it Zuverian.
It was primordial.
Thainnith’s legacy didn’t translate for her immediately, but as she watched, the meaning eventually surfaced.
I see you.