Nothing needed to make sense. This was the emotional wave Raime was riding, fully letting themselves be taken by the current. A term Avril had taught them a long time ago was “suspension of disbelief”. Not like they had any issue with following the flow of stories, it was more to explain why she had gotten tired of discussing them with her mother. Alina would read every book, and even wholeheartedly recount them to Avril and Raime, but clinically thrashed almost every one of them if asked about her opinion. Was this why she rebutted so hard against Raime? It would be easy to point at such a shallow reason. Raime would’ve lost their mind trying to push back against the onslaught of incomprehension these last few days kept throwing on them. It was like a decade on passive observation crashed upon their back as some kind of penance. Should they plead, should they praise? Raime decided a short term solution didn’t need to be abstract.
“35%?”
Much to Raime’s embarrassment, the balcony they had chosen to have another talk with Avril wasn’t secluded enough to keep them from running into a neighbor from U40. This one, a tall and lanky human with an opaque mask of multi-colored tainted glass, Raime didn’t know the name of either. The balcony was high up on the Starboard side, far from their complex, dangling from the side of a street and only held by being stuck between two buildings, leaning against each other. It had only enough space for a small round table and two chairs on opposite ends, but that was exactly Raime had wanted. The plan felt flawless but hearing it explained in excruciating detail by Avril to their neighbor who could’ve been from floor 0 or 7, Raime only wanted to disappear, burying their face in their left elbow.
“35% Jovian wine. Two bottles. Imagine my surprise!”
Their eyes hiding the rest of the world for blissful seconds, Raime was spared from the physical reaction of their neighbor but clearly this had not satiated their curiosity as he attempted another question.
“And the lock on their arm?”
Death would be a mercy.
“You know how it is with alcohol,” Avril leaned against the table to whisper to the neighbor, “some people can get… grabby. I’m the one who holds the key.”
Haunted by the jiggling of the keys, Raime shivered. It had truly felt like a masterful idea at the time. Two bottles in one hand, a door padlock in the other and a destination. But now that their left arm was locked to the railing, there was no escape from how ridiculous this made them look. At least Avril seemed to be taking it in stride.
“Uh-huh. Well I’ll leave you both to it then, have fun?”
With that, Raime heard the neighbor go back to the busy street and disappear in the night. They let go of the comfort of their elevated elbow to face Avril again, barely containing her laughter. Raime could feel the heat on their face.
“Grabby, really?”
“Am I wrong? Wasn’t that the idea? Shackling the beast for my safety…”
Raime groaned and took a swig of the already half empty bottle. In their well thought out plan, they hadn’t considered glasses. So one bottle for each and nothing more to it.
“And you could’ve defended your honor. “No sire, I’m only cuffing myself to this dingy balcony to protest…” what’s there to protest around here.”
The alcohol was already taking its toll on the both of them, the intoxicating air of the Hull’s night life enhancing it even further. Bubbles rising to their head, Raime glanced to their left and grabbed the railing tight with their bound arm, motivated by a need to prevent cramps and to retain balance. Down below, beneath the balcony, a narrow crossroad bustled with activity nearly four stories down. Raime had found this oddly placed nook many years ago, they had thought then that it would fall on it own but it prevailed where a lot of the Hull’s architecture kept shifting. Once again, it felt like a good idea at the time.
“I think I’m gonna hurl,” Raime whimpered.
“A choice, then,” Avril sighed, slamming her bottle on the table.
The sudden noise startled Raime, not doing any favor to their strained stomach.
“Who will be your victim?” Avril continued, barely restraining her laughter, “The poor passerby below, or me?”
“I’m not barfing on anyone.”
“Better not do it on yourself then, I actually like that suit.”
Raime looked down on their already wrinkled vest, shamelessly open to reveal the black undershirt. Without paying attention, they had already gotten comfortable in it, even if it hadn’t been tailored for them. Would it be presumptuous from them to ask Avril if they could keep it? The question would have no problem spilling forth if Raime wasn’t more focused on keeping their esophagus locked tight. Instead their eyes wandered, fast enough that the myriad of lights blurred together, dancing uncontrollably across their vision. They gripped the railing tighter. When their eyes settled, Avril had gotten closer to their face, unblinking, her elbows sternly planted on the table. Raime instinctively recoiled backwards.
“So you’re not gonna tell me what you were working on before?”
It had been her first question, after popping the bottles open. Raime had deviated, expertly they thought. The both of them had more topics of conversations to go through but the bottles echoed emptier now. Inebriated and unable to flee, their defenses felt built of mud. Maybe this is what Raime had been looking for. Avril’s eyes were digging knives into them, even then, after escaping the museum and the pressure of the Major, a selfish temptation made their heartbeat quicken.
Raime shook their head and gulped, sending the acids back down, “Nah, I don’t ask about your work either you know.”
“Excuse you?” Avril replied, legitimately outraged, “You’re the one who gets queasy and refuses to hear about it, and then I only have my mom to complain to.”
Avril was still close enough that they could smell the alcohol from her breath. Why were they even avoiding the question? Was it still that same grip around their throat that had prevented them from confiding to Avril, even before the incident? Raime rocked from side to side, as far as their shackle would allow, as if to unhinge the balcony from the side of the street. Once again lights fluttered around them and they closed their eyes.
“Tell. Me.”
Insistent. As her voice rang incessantly in their ears, Raime recalled the Major. In that cloister, it had once again felt like the end. So soon after finding a sliver of resolve, too early to even get a tangible lead about their identity. Every hiss, every whistle, every brush of wind gathering around him brought them back to facing Gale. Raime remembered what would’ve happened next. Maybe the Major himself would’ve been strong enough to subdue them. The thought only occurred to them now, when Raime had faced him for the first time their first instinct had been to run. Flimsy resolve, but could anyone blame them? Could she blame them? Would she? In the end they decided to stay, and in the end nothing happened. The Major had to have been looking for Gale and his associates, for the hired helpers too maybe, and most importantly for the monster.
The tension only stood at a standstill as both Raime and the Major were focused on the professor’s story. Even under the incomprehensible pressure, they ended up getting lost in Sihvan’s words. How long had it been since they had the opportunity to sit and have a tale recounted to them? As they got out of the building and were left with their original purposes, Raime found it in themselves to stare directly at the Major. Emboldened by nothing in particular, they reached out. The lenses behind his opaque mask only betrayed blurry images of his inner patterns. Raime saw how inscrutable the Major really was, but they had gotten a sentence out of him. Light, receptive, expecting but not demanding. Not one bit that betrayed suspicion. They had sat next to each other and he knew nothing. Raime couldn’t repress a small smile.
“I’m a spy,” Raime giggled.
Avril’s immediate surprise in getting a response was as quickly soured by how ridiculous the actual answer had been. She grimaced and slumped back into her chair with a loud sigh.
“Anyone tell you you’re a great liar?”
Raime wouldn’t say anything more, but right now, they truly were. Neither Avril, nor the Major of the Cors had a single clue. It felt so easy, so natural, an effortless extension to the comfort Raime was feeling in their own body. It was meant to be, it was their path to follow, it vindicated them in not taking the leap off the Hull’s wall. They would go back tomorrow, because why wouldn’t they?
“Say, say,” Raime deviated, “You knew the Marrow Tree is real?”
“What about it?” Avril replied, her voice echoing in her bottle as she took another swig, “Stupid, yeah there’s a bunch of statues all around the city because they were all fan of a niche knight tale… Dumbass.”
Avril was clearly lashing out at them, but even under the effects of alcohol, Raime didn’t find it in them to match that energy. Had it truly been obvious? But if everything from the story is true, then…
“Is that what you found at the museum?” Avril continued, filling in the staggered silence, “That’s as far fetched as you can get.”
“Doesn’t make sense, right? They’re supposed to have won…”
“You wouldn’t think so with how much you always cried at the end.”
That was hardly relevant. Avril was always the one who wanted to hear this story again, and it always ended with only them in tears. Raime couldn’t call the experience pleasant, they didn’t even like the story that much. Through blurry eyes and runny nose, they could tell Avril was watching them. She wasn’t one to react in any way, listening in complete silence, yet both of them ended up having a lot to talk about afterwards. It never made sense to Raime why they were the only one affected this much by fiction. If Sihvan would recount the story again, maybe knowing it was real would lessen the effect. Aside from that, Raime simply hoped they had grown out of it.
“Well it’s an idea. And if it leads nowhere then I don’t fucking know…” Raime mumbled, looking down to their side.
With that unconvincing declaration, they passed their near empty bottle from their right hand to their bound left hand and decidedly poured the remainder of its contents out of the balcony. The wind carried the heavy liquid across the crossroads, raining upon the passerby at the express delight of Avril.
“I hold no scorn for thee, wretches of the earth,” Raime exclaimed loudly, “I bless your existence with my seed, so that you may grow anew, amidst the pure and the unsullied!”
As stoic as she could be when reading or listening to stories, right now Avril was in tears, gasping for air, laughing in exhaled wheezes. Raime saw her look at her own bottle, probably contemplating, but hers was nearly empty and so she finished it off to take herself out of a coughing fit.
Raime was contemplating as well. The possibility that the Major had played coy to lure them in a more prepared ambushed tomorrow wasn’t null. But did such a powerful frame need this kind of subtlety. No, he was none the wiser, and Raime’s chances of finding anything useful about themselves would increase tenfold while hanging out with the closed fist of the Cors. It made sense, in a situation that made no sense. A wave of angry voices were rising from below, it seems the 35% shower wasn’t to everyone’s liking. The initial euphoria had worn off and Raime scooted their chair far away from the balcony. The padlock’s chain yanked them right back from getting too far, to the strained chuckles of Avril.
“They’re all coming up to get you now,” Avril whispered, her voice raspy from laughing too hard, “How do you plan to get out of this one, spy master?”
She was jingling the keys in front of them. It was better for Raime to remain locked here until they sobered up but with the amount that they’d ingested it could take well until sunrise and even still… Why did they think this plan was anything more than deeply moronic to begin with? Anxious panic started to set in, a fleeting thought of cutting their own arm off passed through their head but was unanimously discarded.
“Hey. Hey.”
Avril had noticed Raime was starting to sweat profusely and stopped taunting them with the keys. Instead of handing them over however, she let them sink in her vest’s pocket and rose from her chair, slightly stumbling.
“I have a plan to get you out of there fast, don’t move okay?”
“Haha,” Raime laughed nervously as Avril bolted to the street and slid into a nearby building.
Two empty bottles and an empty chair in front of them. The full extent of the nonsensical choices that had led them here was laid comfortably upon their shoulders. Forward, forward, forward, they must march on. Raime looked up to the sky, trying to find the other planets of Sol. At one point they could’ve found them in minutes, granted that they were visible. With Raime’s current brain capabilities, the effort was in vain. Sihvan’s words when they were over the calendar came back to them.
“What happened to you, little moon?”
“Eyes down.”
Raime obliged. Avril was standing over them, landing one foot on the table, knocking the bottles to the ground. She was holding firmly on a long tube snaking all the way to the interior of the building she’d entered. The muzzle of it yawned wide in front of Raime’s face, suspending their entire body in freezing shock. Gallons of sweat felt like they poured from their hands, gripping the edges of the chair like their life depended on it. Raime’s eyes couldn’t escape the abyss they were staring into, their heart beating out of their chest.
“I promise it’ll be quick,” Avril giggled, unlocking the muzzle.
The last thing Raime heard was a crescendo of gurgles from the inside of the tube before they were sprayed with enough water to send them crashing against the railing.