The Advent of Madness: My Twin Sister And I

Clicking my teeth, Swish!, his hand swept through thin air instead as I leaned backwards like an acrobat, avoiding the 'accident' that had almost happened.

Staring upwards at the aimlessly floating hand above my head, I tapped my foot onto the ground and darted backwards, dragging him along with me away from the fragment while keeping close attention on his movements.

On his hands, arms, legs, torso, and even head.

Anything could go 'hilariously' wrong at any moment, and I couldn't let this man touch my body.

No, only Esme and Hilda are permitted to do that.

Not that there is anything hilarious about his Curse; it drags Hildekar's name through the mud, it makes others see the worst in him, a worst that, for lack of a better word, does not even exist.

Alas, that is the punishment of Curses.

That is the ailing balance that supersedes Blessings.

Without this balance, there can be no Awakened, there can be no Heirarchy. Heh, it is both a blessing and a curse.

Regardless of all that, though:

Hildekar is no longer staring at the fragment.

I glanced back at him as I dragged him towards the rubble to grab hold of the rope again; his eyes were no longer trailing towards the fragment; they drifted elsewhere, towards the architecture of the citadel, even towards me at times.

Whatever it is that is influencing him, it is not glued to the fragment.

It just so happens that of all sections of the citadel, out of each aspect of this archaeic fortress, it is the fragment that pulls him the deepest.

I'm not sure precisely what influence the leak had over him, but there is a correlation. A link between this influence that lingers over our heads and each person specifically. I'm not entirely sure how this connection functions, but it is there.

That, I am confident of.

So, I dragged Hildekar up the rubble, his eyes twitching and darting all over at any passing building, collapsed roof or shattered pavement, while we made it up to the roof.

Now...

I stared at the rope tied around the house's chimney, then I stared back at Hildekar; I can't let him touch it. Not in this citadel. Were it The Canary, then it would be for the best. However, in this case, I wasn't willing to take that risk. It's too dangerous.

I did have some fleeting belief that maybe, just perchance, one of these idiots would arrive at The Canary and make use of the web of ropes I'd set up. Alas, it doesn't seem like they'd made any use of it.

Unless someone snuck by me in the past hour and went back to The Canary, having bypassed whatever influence was keeping them glued to their places.

"Hildekar. I know you can hear me somewhere in there in that mess of yours. But I can't let you touch this rope, do you understand?" I tugged at Hildekar's hand as I turned to face him.

Still, the man's attention was set elsewhere, but I had to believe that he understood what I meant.

I had no way of tying him up. Tying him up would require a rope of sorts.

And I can't use rope.

Even a rope formed from Curses counts as a rope; it's not the fabric of a real rope that is the danger, but the very concept of a rope itself that is the danger.

With that warning complete, I took the final step towards the rope and grabbed hold of it.

As for Hildekar...

I held my breath.

He stood uncomfortably close to the rope, his eyes lazily drifting over towards it on occasion. But each time that occurred, his pupils would twitch. They would almost imperceptibly struggle before turning away.

"...Phew."

I sighed with a smile.

We were safe, for now.

Hildekar could still, somehow, hold himself together. It's almost miraculous, but none of us would have made it this far without some form of mental fortitude.

Mental fortitude.

A critical aspect of our survival.

Of my survival.

I state that he has mental fortitude, I believe that I have mental fortitude...

But, do I?

Did I?

When the metal split apart, when the ruins broke free of centuries of sorrow; when it all started-

Did I have the mental fortitude, even after years of torture, to survive that encounter? Had I even survived it on my own will, or was it that dreaded thing we call luck?

And how about the others?

How about Hildekar?

In this state, can I even call this mental fortitude?

Or is it luck?

I don't know.

Only Hildekar can know.

Only they can know.

Now...

I need to go to the next person.

Even as I stared at me through the parted void to my left, from within the stream of liquid, from beyond the veil;

Even as the memories flashed by;

Even as the Archaeic Ruins of the [Fourth Light] stung my brain with the devastating reality forced upon us;

I must move.

I mustn't stop.

.....

...

I mustn't stop writing.

I mustn't let the past shackle me.

I mustn't let the future fall apart.

The [Fourth Light].

The Third Checkpoint.

The Third Archaeic Ruins of-

...

.....

I must walk.

I must bring them together.

The clock is ticking.

Only three days remain.

-----

Scratch... Scratch...

Sluggishly scratching her long, wavy, scattered brown hair, the lady lying on the ground in front of us continued to lie there with her eyes wide open, staring into the dark skies.

Her usually frigid green eyes drooped lazily as she yawned while enjoying the decadence of lying there and doing nothing.

Laziness has truly gripped Nemora.

At least I could guide Hildekar around, and speaking of Hildekar, he was standing behind me, trying to walk away to a nearby chapel. But I kept a firm grip of his hand; I wasn't going to let Hilda's cousin get away that easily.

But never mind Hildekar, and also, never mind Nemora.

She wasn't my second target.

My second, also last target of the day, before I head into the core of the citadel, is-

Step.

Here she comes.

Step.

Walking around the corner on her predetermined route with a scowl on her face, a frown bubbling in a mixture of annoyance, and a vague hint of sorrow.

Her black hair, ashen with dust, cascaded tirelessly as she trudged onwards on her never-ending walk.

Blood dripped from the hollow of her shoes, which, by this point, had filled with coagulated and fresh, flowing blood. It was a flowing trail of crimson that carved a path behind her throughout the citadel, a dismal display of months of non-stop travel.

Except, this time, she came to a stop.

Vanessa ignored Nemora, as usual. Instead, she focused on me. She focused on Hildekar, who stood dazed behind me.

The annoyance tinging her face proliferated rapidly, turning her face upside down as she took a heavy stomp towards me, spilling more blood onto the ground, "The fuck are you doing here? Here to piss me off again? Fuck. Fuck. Can you just fuck off?!"

Her mouth was too dry for spit to fly out, but had it not been dry, then I'd surely have been drenched. She practically crawled her steps towards me, slamming the ground beneath her as though she were venting to it.

"What do you want?"

"Can't you just piss off?"

"Fuck off?"

"All of you are just annoying. Every. Single. One. Of. You."

"Can you leave me be?"

She took another step closer towards me; this time, she towered over me.

"Can you go elsewhere?"

She leaned over me, almost slamming her forehead down on my scalp.

"Was that ruin not enough for you already? Can't you leave me to join them? For us to join them? Won't you stop pestering me? Won't you-"

My open palm rose before Vanessa could speak another word.

Smack!

A piping hot mark throbbed on Vanessa's tilted head. Blood dripped from her split lips, whilst her forehead popped with writhing veins; not from anger, but from annoyance.

Annoyance that stabbed her to her core.

"If you're so annoyed. If you want to be left alone so badly. If this citadel is annoying you so much with its cursed past..."

I slowly rubbed the fingers of my palm, as though I were hypnotising her. The fingers of the same palm that was raised by her face and similarly throbbing, as I hadn't amplified it with Curses, as I did not allow myself to force Vanessa to experience this pain alone.

"...then come along with me in three days time. I have a way to end your annoyance. A way to allow you to be free of this annoying cycle of attempting to find a way to end the annoyance."

Vanessa's body rattled with another violent wave of annoyance; her hand swept up as she thrashed away at her hair, turning it into a mess. But, at the end of this outburst, she clicked her teeth in annoyance and sighed with a breath that almost tasted of distaste.

Pulling up the middle finger close and personal to my face, to the point where I could smell the fragrance of her naturally soft skin:

"Fuck."

"Off."

"Three days."

Then, she turned away.

She left with the promise of three days.