Chapter Text
Sleep well, friend.
A crushing thirst woke Aster. A girl with golden eyes stared down at them.
“You’re awake.”
Startled, Aster rolled out of her lap and onto the hard ground, coughing. Their thoughts came slowly, through a haze of red. Who was she? Where were they? Their memory dropped off a sharp cliff. A faint voice, a request. A farewell – a different voice, a man’s voice. Sorrowful. Then, nothing.
Slowly, the fits subsided, but the thirst was even worse now. Numbly, Aster tottered to their feet, gasping and swaying here and there, as if willing their swollen tongue to taste moisture on the wind. It was so dry here. They barely heard the girl’s next words. She was pointing at something glowing in the distance, sandwiched between ruined buildings and strange glowing spikes. Aster stumbled towards it, the girl coaxing the whole way.
“A spring will slake our thirst.”
The girl brought them to a tree, if trees were made of light. Its bark was ghostly white and the whole thing was gnarled, twisted in on itself. It looked dead.
“That’s what they said anyway,” she continued in the same measured tone. “This way…”
Aster stepped forward – then their blood began to boil. A strangled scream ripped from their throat, growing guttural, alien. A red mist descended, outlines blurred. Their brain burned within their skull.
“It’s alright,” the girl said.
Strangers, in jumbled parts, emerged from red static: electric blue eyes, an outstretched hand, a retreating back…then everything was red again. Agony spiked behind their eyes.
“It’s alright.”
Cool fingers closed around Aster’s arm. A sharp flash, then wetness. Blood. It fell onto a blue-white root.
New sprouts unfurled from dead wood. Its bark turned translucent and pulsed, then shone with a brilliance that made Aster shield their eyes. When they looked again, it was covered in new growth, and the whole thing stood straight again. Fruit appeared, swelling before their eyes, like ruby raindrops.
The girl plucked one carefully. “This is for you.”
Another wave of pain drove Aster to their knees. The girl supported them with one hand and gently guided the strange fruit to their lips with the other. Instinctively, Aster bit.
It was the sweetest thing they ever tasted. They closed their eyes and slumped to the ground.
A clammy hand grabbed Aster’s shin. They kicked, hard, and heard a crunch, followed by a bone-chilling yowl. In one fluid movement, Aster crushed the enemy’s head and planted their sword in its chest. Pinned like a bug, it gave one final sob before vanishing.
Aster leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, eyes darting side to side. They cursed their carelessness, passing out like that. The girl – they still didn’t know her name – was obviously unarmed. Rage at the creeps who took her burned like a coal in their stomach. Aster didn’t even know if the girl could defend themselves, or what would happen if she tried.
Although, it was only once they were thrown into battle that Aster learned they could fight, and beyond a level of self-defence. The sword they scavenged from one of the many dormant Lost was in pretty shit shape, but it did the job. Their foes were not particularly skilled, so instinct was enough – muscle memory was better than no memory at all.
If they stopped to think about the yawning chasm they had for a memory bank, terror would take them and never let go, so they pushed forward. It was worse, now that they were alone. They tried not to think of Oliver, to little success. It was he who explained the basics of the monsters they now fought: revenants who lost themselves to bloodthirst and the miasma, and became immortal shambling shadows of themselves. Perhaps he was simply being kind out of shared adversity. Still, Aster owed him. They found it hard to condemn Oliver for his carelessness, his attempt to reach out to a fellow captured revenant. He couldn't've known they were turning Lost. But now it was just Aster and this living hell. If a swarm of Lost didn’t get them, the building itself would, with its sudden drops and unstable footing.
Aster pushed down their fear, tempering it into anger. Anger was useful, particularly if they were to get out of here alive, and escape their captors. If they laid a hand on the golden-eyed girl…
Something howled in the distance. Something else gibbered much closer. Aster shuddered and forced themselves to keep moving.
The gibbering creature turned out to be a giant Lost, taller than Aster as it sat, gnawing on its own forearm. Aster was grateful their footsteps were light; it fell easily to their claw. One day it would reform. Aster hoped someone else would be the one to put it out of its misery again.
As they stepped cautiously around the corner, there was movement from a human-sized figure. Aster twitched, but this stranger was clearly upright and sane, with an intact ventilator mask. He had spotted them too, and was walking closer. He was dark-haired, and his blood veil fluttered with each purposeful step. It was more ornate than Aster’s, which leaned military-issue. The man was dressed well in general; only the wicked red blade he held comfortably suggested more.
“Are you a fellow explorer? It appears you’re alone.”
Aster nodded warily. The stranger was on the slender side, but built, and his movements were balanced; they would prefer to avoid a fight. Plus, it sounded like he was unaffiliated with their kidnappers.
“I’m on my own at the moment too,” he continued amicably. His one uncovered eye was placid, though startlingly red. “But I was hoping for a partner for the path ahead. What do you say? Just until we’re through here? Don’t worry, I’m not going to stab you in the back,” he joked. Aster blinked. They had the feeling he did not joke very often; he wasn’t very good at it. “The lost and the miasma here are enough as it is.”
He seemed genuine enough. And Aster did hate being alone in this awful dark place. “Alright, let’s go together.”
“Thanks a lot,” the stranger said. He looked pleased, from the visible half of his face. “I’m glad to work with you.”
“Likewise.” Aster nodded, and set off. The stranger followed, a half-step behind, glancing behind them. If he noticed Aster’s own backwards looks, he didn’t comment.
Unlike Oliver, the stranger largely kept his thoughts to himself, which suited Aster. He said what was necessary; Aster was much better at fielding tactical suggestions than nervous small talk. Then they felt guilty – Oliver was friendly enough, and Aster hoped he was okay, though they said none of this aloud.
And the stranger was a terror in battle. Thinking back, it made sense; he had been confident enough to venture that far alone. And he was attentive, taking out enemies that might have flanked them, throwing fireballs at any that tried to creep up on Aster. They could trust him to watch their back.
After taking out a cavern of Lost, they arrived at another tree. The stranger took out a notepad and scribbled something – its location, perhaps. After being sated by that odd red fruit, Aster could guess how important these trees were. Bloodsprings, Aster corrected, though from where they learned this they could not say. The girl with golden eyes never used the term, though Aster was lucid enough at the time to remember what she did. They nicked the skin of their inner forearm with their teeth, and let the blood fall.
The tree came to life, sprouting several small fruits that Aster picked and tucked away with a satisfied nod. Blood beads, the kidnappers called them. Whoever named them was a practical person.
When Aster continued up the path, the stranger did not follow. He was standing frozen by the revived bloodspring. Its new glow illuminated his wide-eyed stare into its branches. He mouthed something Aster couldn’t quite catch, then shook his head, trotting after them with an apologetic nod.
Aster nodded back. Up on the ledge was a smaller bush. It looked even more dead than the bloodspring did, but it perked up all the same once it tasted Aster’s blood. Immediately, the air cleared. The blood within Aster seemed to hum at the bush’s revival, and Aster felt a sense of safety wash over them.
The stranger, on the other hand, looked troubled. “...could you fill me in on the details later?”
Aster gave him a quizzical look. Had he never seen anyone do this? To be fair, neither had Aster, but the stranger had the advantage of not having global memory loss. They shrugged.
“Sure thing,” they replied. Perhaps the stranger could be of some help – he was strong enough, though the kidnappers outnumbered them greatly, and Aster was unsure how far his curiosity went. Either way, the girl who saved Aster was their first priority. Hopefully the blood beads would at least secure her safety.
The path became narrow and precarious – an underground lake, opened by a Thorn of Judgement, explained the stranger in awe. It glowed a soft dangerous blue, and Aster did not take a second peek. They were glad to be in the stairwells, moving up towards the surface. There were fewer Lost now, and the path became wide and uphill.
“Good,” said the stranger. “That’s light from the surface.”
They emerged blinking into a scene of carnage. Revenants lay unconscious everywhere, some dispersing before their eyes. The girl with golden eyes was lying prone; beside her was a familiar figure.
“Oliver? You…made it?” Aster called uncertainly. He was hunched over and twitching erratically. Was he sick? Or—
“RRAUGHHH!”
Clang . The stranger stood before them protectively. Oliver’s eyes were glowing through the mask – the old, broken mask – and he roared again, brandishing his hammer.
Aster stood rooted to the spot. The stranger who saved their life took up a fighting stance. “Once someone is lost, they can never come back.” His voice was even, devoid of comfort or pity. “Cast aside your doubt.”
The girl was still lying there, which meant she wasn’t critically injured, but she was still in danger. Slowly, Aster raised their sword. This time they would repay her kindness. And Oliver’s – Aster gritted their teeth.
The thing that was once Oliver shrieked and lunged. His hammer left a hole in the concrete where the stranger and Aster once stood. A deadly dance followed, both sword-wielders darting to get within his guard. In some ways they were fortunate: the frenzy of loss meant the creature wasn’t interested in defending.
Then the thing transformed . Aster leapt back, heart pounding in their chest. The humanoid mass of rot-grey flesh roared again, so loud Aster fought back a wince. They couldn’t afford a single misstep.
The stranger slashed at its thick calves; Aster followed up with a hamstring cut. The ground shook as the thing fell to its knees, and the pair whaled on it, circling its back and sides, always staying on the move. All too soon, it got up again, but was clearly favouring its injured leg. Aster rushed forward to repeat the move on its other side, but it whipped around – as if waiting for them to take the bait.
Pain burst through Aster’s body, then everything was upside down. They landed, hard. In the distance, the stranger was shouting, but Aster closed their eyes, focusing inwards, reaching for the regenerative powers all revenants possessed to a limited extent. The pain eased, and they wobbled to their feet using their sword as a support.
The stranger was struggling with the creature’s full attention. Aster cast another regeneration – their last – wincing as their cracked ribs fused, and leapt back into the fight with a surprise attack. The creature screamed. Its nondominant arm hung uselessly at the elbow. The stranger barely spared them a glance. He plunged that wicked sword into the creature’s heart. It dissolved into sparks.
Aster ran to the girl’s side, sweating from the low-level pain that persisted in their hastily-mended body. She stirred and looked around, reaching for Aster’s hand.
“You okay?” Aster said gently, taking her hand in theirs. It was soft and cool. She nodded slowly. Aster breathed a sigh of relief.
“How about you? That was quite the fall.” A small vial appeared before Aster’s eyes. The stranger dropped it in their other hand, concern on his face. They stared at the vial in confusion.
“Drink that,” added the stranger. Aster had no reason to distrust him now. They uncapped it and threw it back. It tasted like sour apples. The last of their aches and pains immediately eased.
“Thanks,” said Aster with a sigh. The stranger nodded.
“I’m glad she’s alright,” he said, scanning their surroundings. “By the way, both of you—”
All revenants must pay a levy.
Aster jerked their head up like a sparrow, but the stranger heard it too. It was coming from something nearby.
There are no exceptions.
A small red crystal lay in the rubble. The air around it distorted, muddying in odd swirling patterns.
“A vestige,” said the stranger, on full alert. “Best to stay away from those stones. Anyone who touches them is defiled, transformed into the Lost. Don’t listen to their whispers.”
Aster shuddered, taking his warning to heart, but the girl was staring now too. “I hear a voice…” she said.
The stranger didn’t hear her. He had his back turned again, keeping an eye out. “Once she’s settled down, let’s get out of here.”
Aster grunted in affirmation, but they couldn’t take their eyes off the vestige now either. It was not just red, they realised now – the facets clustered in the middle held deep violets and indigo, along with that mesmerising blood red.
…someone has to be sacrificed . Oliver. Aster would never forget that voice. Without blood beads, we won’t make it!
As if in a dream, Aster reached for the vestige. It was warm, like living skin. Suddenly, spikes exploded into Aster’s hand. They cried out, and the stranger called for them frantically, but the pain blocked out the rest of the world. Everything was on fire. Their vision went red again.
Oliver! Aster screamed silently.
“It’s alright.” The girl’s calm voice cut through the red. “You can do it.”
Aster shut their eyes, gritting their teeth. Oliver deserved more than to be put down like a rabid dog. What are you trying to tell me?
A cool sensation crept up the arm holding the vestige. It was power, and it was not here to provide relief, but to bend the world to Aster’s will. Aster opened their eyes. Blue fire engulfed everywhere that power touched. It reached the crystal, and two forces met in a dazzling light.
Aster opened their eyes again. The world was dim and oddly muffled. The other two were nowhere to be found. Voices echoed through the darkness – Oliver’s, they realised, and others they did not recognise. These were his memories. His struggles in the revenant world, a never ending battle against the thirst, and the will of the strong. Someone has to be sacrificed .
As if in a dream, Aster wandered through the ever changing landscape. Scenes played out as they passed, guided by floating lanterns. Did Oliver leave these, to guide any wayward travellers who fell into his deepest regrets? Aster could only watch as he took blood beads out of a child’s hands, hellbent on survival. Their kidnappers were much the same – they all just wanted to live.
Why was he showing them this? Why was he nice to them in the first place? Aster had nothing to say to him, even if he was there, only that it shouldn’t have happened this way. Useless pleasantries. They gritted their teeth and walked on.
A huge door awaited them at the end, and the girl and stranger. The man looked as bemused as Aster felt.
“Is this the past of one of the Lost? No, there’s no way…”
“Are we…inside the crystal?” Aster wondered aloud. The idea that they’d all simply shrunk was too much for Aster’s exhausted, near-hysterical brain.
“This is a memory echo,” the girl explained. Perhaps she knew this just as inexplicably as Aster knew what a bloodspring was called. “It’s a place where lost recollections still wander.”
“So, it’s not deliberate? It’s just all that happens to be left…?” Aster’s throat closed. They were angry, but at who or what they couldn’t say.
The girl laid a hand on Aster’s arm. “Come, let’s move on. If you use that stairway, I believe it should take us back to the world outside.”
Aster knew it was useless to ask how she knew. Her memories were missing too – when did she say that? When they awoke? Everything was getting muddled in their head.
When they passed through the door, the world tipped sideways. The stranger gasped beside them. Aster squinted in the sun. They were back. “What the hell was that?”
“It was a memory, carved into that vestige by the one who left it behind.” The girl’s voice never wavered. It was as if she was telling them what colour the sky was.
“I didn’t expect that I’d get dragged into it too,” said the stranger. He seemed to be calming down. Aster envied him; their own thoughts were a mess.
Pain brought them back: a dull ache in their dominant hand. They held it up with detached curiosity. The flesh was bloody and perforated by the crystal, but they simply had nothing left in them for regeneration.
“That looks painful,” said the girl. She took Aster’s hand into her own, heedless of the blood getting all over her white dress.
“Unfortunately I’m out of meds,” said the stranger with a frown. He produced a roll of bandages instead. “If you’ll allow me…?”
This seemed directed at the girl as much as Aster themselves. She nodded and shifted to support their side. The stranger worked quickly and efficiently, dabbing the worst of the blood away with a gentle touch. Aster didn’t flinch; it hurt much less than the vestige, and had none of the accompanying miasmic power. Their glove was in tatters though, and Aster didn’t think it was salvageable. They made a mental note to remove any gloves or gauntlets before handling strange whispering crystals. If they ever got a replacement glove. What merchant would sell a single glove?
“There, that’s better.” The stranger clipped the tail end into place and offered them a hand up, which they took. The girl got to her feet too, helping Aster up with a hand on the small of their back.
“Thanks.”
Aster looked into glittering red eyes. “Your power really is extraordinary.” There was no malice, only fascination in his voice, but Aster couldn’t quite meet his gaze. It was an awe that, coming from another revenant, would have flown too close to hunger. Though, perhaps Aster was being unfair, surrounded by the bodies of their opportunistic kidnappers.
The stranger seemed to attribute Aster’s behaviour to exhaustion. “Come with me. I know a spot where we can rest.” He offered his left hand. “I’m Louis. I’m researching blood beads. Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Aster,” they replied, shaking his hand with their uninjured one. “Thanks again for the help.”
Louis shook his head. They both looked at the girl. She tilted her head. “I apologise. I do not remember my name.”
“Give it time,” said Aster, patting her head. Her hair was soft and fluffy.
“She’s right,” added Louis. Aster twitched; that conversation would happen, but not now. “Rest comes first, for both of you. Come on.”
He set off at a steady pace, sword at the ready. With a glance at the girl, who did not seem at all distressed over her lack of memory, Aster followed.
Not long after they arrived, the girl indeed remembered her name: Io, though she could not recall its origin. Aster made a mental note to ask Louis; he seemed to know a lot about this world.
They were lying in a double bed, in a run-down chapel Louis called home base. He gave them a quick run-down of the world within the Gaol of the Mists, while Aster and Io told him their basic situation. The latter did not take long, though Louis was surprised to hear of such severe cases of memory loss. Apparently all revenants lost memories upon revival, often without realising.
There were other revenants at the chapel, some of whom watched curiously; it seemed Louis had explained the situation, but formal introductions were to wait until they got some rest.
Except Aster could not rest. Io was in the common area, where a lone bed sat beside the couches and – for some reason – a grand piano. Aster stayed at her side until she fell asleep, snoring softly, and Louis gently suggested they take a nap in the rooms around the corner.
Though his hospitality was a nice change from their last keepers, it was wasted on them. Aster’s thoughts ran in circles; too much happened, and they simply could not keep up anymore. At least they were comfortable leaving Io out there; Louis consistently treated them both with respect, though Aster wasn’t sure how long it would last. He had made it obvious he wanted to propose some kind of deal, which suited Aster. They would rather be useful than liked; one was far less ephemeral than the other.
At some point, Aster must have drifted off, because they jolted awake, sweating. They dreamed they were falling from a high place. Unsettled, they swung out of bed and stuffed their boots back on.
Io was still asleep when they rounded the corner. Louis sat at a weighty wooden desk at the other end of the chapel, piled high with books. He gave no indication he noticed Aster, so they milled about the couches, examining the chapel interior. A planning board, heavily used, occupied one wall of the alcove. A jukebox sat behind one of the couches, none of which matched the others. Magazines littered the table – Aster spotted a cookbook there too.
“You’re an unfamiliar face,” drawled a woman’s voice. Aster jumped. A blonde revenant with heavy eye makeup and a newsboy cap straightened from behind a pile of crates. “Easy there.” She gave Aster a long inscrutable look. “Has Louis stuck his head in another pot of trouble? Well, it’s none of my business, really. I’m Coco, a merchant by trade.”
“I-I’m Aster,” they said. The way she spoke, it was like Louis made a habit of picking stray creatures off the side of the road. In their case, it wasn’t inaccurate.
“You’ve forgotten almost everything, haven’t you?” She said, needing no confirmation. “It’s been a while since the Queen was dethroned, but the world’s no better now than it was then.” She explained a few points Louis skimmed or omitted, such as the plight of humans in current revenant society and the provisional government that sheltered them, while Aster asked questions. “The thirst for human blood can drive a revenant mad. Luckily you haven’t tasted it yet, have you?”
Aster shook their head.
“I recommend you never do,” she said, a stern note entering her otherwise lackadaisical voice. It disappeared as soon as it came. She crossed her arms. “Well, that’s all I can think of. Oh, and Rin’s the other trader here – go say hi.”
Feeling very mothered, Aster nodded again and wandered over to the counter and what looked like an armoury, where a red-haired girl with a ponytail stood in discussion with a tall man in camo pants. She was the only one wearing her mask.
“Hey, uh Rin right? I’m Aster.”
“Oh!” She exclaimed. “Yup, I’m Rin Murasame. I provide the back-home support for all the explorers here. It’s a pleasure! And this guy here’s Yakumo.”
The man gave a curt nod. There was a scar on his cheek, and his hair was a deeper shade than Rin’s, closer to a true red than Rin’s saffron. Louis looked up at their voices and gave Aster the slightest nod. He went back to his papers. Whatever he wanted them for, he wasn’t in a rush.
“Nice to meet you,” they said uncertainly. They could deal with enthusiastic welcome and unconcealed wariness but not both at the same time – thus, they turned to Rin. “So you don’t go out in the field yourself?”
“Naw,” she said. “I’ve got my own reasons for why I can’t go into combat…but leave gear and maintenance to me!”
“All revenants carry some secret with them,” Yakumo added, staring pointedly at Aster. They returned his look steadily. They spoke too soon; his wariness was easier to handle than Rin, and much more familiar. “Don’t do anything funny. I'll be keeping an eye on you until this talk with Louis settles down.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll try not to step on any toes,” said Aster drily. Yakumo narrowed his eyes but did not answer.
“If Louis brought you here, there must be some reason, right?” Rin said brightly. “Oh, it looks like your friend’s awake.”
On the bed beside the piano, Io sat up slowly. Aster excused themselves and strode to her side.
“Hey there,” said Aster gently. Io blinked up at them, and moved along the bed. Did she want them to sit down? Aster did so; the mattress squeaked.
“It’s…warm here, isn’t it?” She said in her slow measured way. Aster considered Coco’s patience and Louis’ hospitality. Rin sounded like a friendly person by nature, but even Yakumo’s caution never crossed into outright hostility.
“I think I know what you mean,” replied Aster. They wondered if she was thinking back on the revenants who captured them.
“Everyone wants to know more about me, but I don’t have the answer to any of their questions,” Io said. She looked a little forlorn, though it was hard to tell. “All I can remember is my name, and that my place is by your side.”
“By my side…?”
“I’m not sure. It was simply decided. One does what must be done. And for me, that is my mission…to stay at your side.”
Aster shook their head. It was troubling, and no kind of life for a young woman, but there was no use interrogating her. She did seem determined, in her own quiet way, to protect them back at the bloodspring, and later in the holding cell.
“So, those bandages…?”
“I was wounded while I was searching for you,” she said calmly. “I am not a very capable fighter.”
Aster’s stomach twisted. “You shouldn’t…no, never mind. Thank you. I’ll fight for both of us from now on.”
Io met their determined gaze with her wide ones, and nodded uncertainly. Aster squeezed her shoulder in thanks. Perhaps they knew each other as humans. Perhaps they were strangers. But Aster would repay the kindness Io had shown in this life, first and foremost.
“Am I interrupting?”
It was Louis, finally. Aster shook their head and stood. “Let’s chat.”
“Of course,” he said, leading them to the open area nearby. The crumbling walls let in the elements, and a view of the red mist. “Apologies for the wait, there were some preparations I had to make.”
“It’s alright. So, what did you need from me?”
He regarded them thoughtfully. “The ability to draw strength from experiencing memories…and the power to revitalise bloodsprings. Both unprecedented. Sorry, but could I get a sample of your blood? We might understand more if we analysed it.”
Aster blinked at him. Surely that wasn’t all?
Louis mistook their hesitation for resistance. “It won’t be much – just a small vial – so you won’t have to worry about bloodthirst.”
“No, it’s fine with me. Now?”
Louis nodded. Aster rolled up their sleeve and he produced a case with a syringe inside. They averted their eyes; it was fine when there was a blood veil in between, and they had consented, but it wasn’t the most comfortable experience. Thankfully, Louis did not try to make small talk, and it was over soon.
“Done,” he said, straightening. “It’ll take a while to get the results -- take it easy in the room back there while you wait.”
Aster grimaced. “I’ll be fine, I’ll just hang out here.”
Louis hesitated. “Alright. I’ll let you know when the tests are done.”
Relieved he didn’t push the matter, Aster wandered back over to Io, flopping on the bed. She gently lifted the arm Louis drew blood from, and cradled it. Aster smiled and held her hand.
“You look troubled,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t need rest?”
“A lot’s happened, that’s all.” They shrugged. “I’ll sleep when I’m tired enough.” They didn’t mention their poor attempts earlier; Io looked worried enough as it was. “I slept plenty before those assholes caught us, remember?”
Io looked down. “I do not wish to return to that place.”
“Yeah,” said Aster emphatically. “I mean, I get they were desperate. But they still treated us like dirt.”
“Your friend killed many of them.”
“Huh? Oliver?” An unpleasant feeling gripped Aster’s chest. “I wouldn’t call him a friend. And he was probably too far gone to know he was taking revenge…if it weren’t for Louis, he would’ve killed me too.”
“I’m glad Louis was there. Is he a friend?”
Her lamp-like eyes were hard to look away from. “Not really? Maybe? It depends what he wants from me.”
“He seemed impressed by your affinity with vestiges.”
“Yeah, I don’t think he has bad intentions,” Aster admitted. They raised their free hand, the one the crystal had ravaged. Louis’ bandages were long-discarded, and the skin there was lightly pockmarked with scars, but it was whole. The power that calmed the vestiges came from within Aster; it was dizzying, but also unsettling, not knowing something about their body. They already knew so little about themselves.
“Hey Io,” said Aster. They leaned into her shoulder. She was warm and soft. “Do you like it here?”
She hummed. “I like it.”
“Hmm,” was all Aster said. They closed their eyes. Though sleep did not come, their heart calmed down. The tiny rise and fall of Io’s chest, the rustling as she stroked their scarred hand, her thigh solid against theirs…though nothing about her struck Aster as familiar, her presence put them at ease, and familiarity could be built up over time. They breathed deeply, listening to the low murmur of conversation float through the chapel, the rustling of papers, boots echoing up and down…one set approached Io’s bed.
“I can carry them to bed, if you want,” came Louis’ voice, kept low in consideration.
“M’awake,” mumbled Aster. They sat up and stretched, Io laying a hand on their thigh.
“Do you need more rest? We can talk after.”
Aster shook their head irritably. “Just tell me what you—sorry, I mean, I’d like to know sooner rather than later.” They stood and made their way to the section of ruined wall; it offered a modicum of privacy.
Louis nodded. “I’ve done what I can do look into your talents, and I’ve confirmed something surprising. Revenants have blood codes that differ from those of humans. These types greatly affect a revenant’s abilities. However, your blood has no specific type – or maybe more accurately – your type is broken.” Aster’s eyebrows rose.
“Your ability – and the fact that you have no specific type – might be due to you possessing what we call a ‘void-type’. Your ability to restore vestiges and activate bloodsprings…that may be a phenomenon that's unique to void-types.”
“So, instead of A or B or whatever, I’ve got a wildcard?”
“More or less. Do you recall the blood code you got from that vestige?”
Aster frowned. They certainly felt something change…when they thought about it, the answer came clearly, as if supplied by another person. “Berserker.”
Louis nodded. “Your ability lets you use that power instead of your own native blood code. With me so far?”
To Aster’s surprise, they were, and they nodded. Most of this information, in fact, sounded familiar. But how?
“Supposing you are a void-type,” continued Louis. “There's a test I’d like to perform.”
Aster’s brows came together at the prospect of more tests. He had mentioned he was a researcher, and he certainly fit the mould.
“Don’t worry,” added Louis. “You’ll get something out of it. I’m going to give you some of my blood. If my theory is correct, it should act as a medium to give my power to you.”
It was an attractive proposition. Aster had seen Louis’ abilities first-hand, and admired his skills. If they were to survive in this world with Io, it would be useful to fold some of those skills into their own style. Though, that didn’t change how outrageous it sounded when said aloud.
Louis’ gaze was clear. Aster decided to meet his sincerity head-on. “Then, I’m grateful.”
“Great,” he said, lifting his sleeve. They were already cuffed below the elbow, so he didn’t have as much fiddling to do as Aster had earlier. “Well, here goes…” He looked expectantly at them.
For a few heartbeats, Aster just stared back. He wanted to do it now, right here? With no syringe? They weren’t exactly hidden from view; Coco glanced their way but said nothing. Perhaps seasoned revenants became desensitised to this sort of thing, but Aster only woke up yesterday.
“Ah,” said Louis, noticing their hesitation. “If it bothers you, I can get a vial—”
It was a tempting offer, but also a waste of a syringe. And Aster was curious; they had no memories of taking blood the old-fashioned way. “Don’t worry about it.”
They took his offered arm with both hands. His wrist was bony, and his veins stretched up and down the translucent area near the joint in faint green lines. Aster followed it with a finger, but with no real intention. It made more sense to try the elbow first.
The underside of his forearm was hairless, and quite soft. His skin was a shade paler than theirs, with a touch more pink than honey, and there was a noticeable band below the elbow joint where his tan ended and his true colour began. He was warm and very much alive. Weren’t undead creatures supposed to be pallid? Aster didn’t know where that thought came from either. Louis kept his body loose, watching them investigate with his own steady curiosity.
It was embarrassing to be watched so intently, but Aster pushed that aside. They lowered their head over his skin, sliding one hand into his sleeve to support the back of his elbow. Louis twitched. Up close, Aster felt his warmth more keenly – they wondered if he ran hot, like his fire-based Gifts suggested. Parting their lips, they lightly tongued the crook of his elbow, feeling for that tell-tale bulge. Muscle jumped beneath their lips. Aster held him in place more firmly with their hands, and bit down.
Louis grunted, but Aster spared him no attention, drinking up that delicious blood. It came in a rush, and they could barely keep up, sucking a spreading bruise into his warm, warm skin. Then, something clicked into place within them. Prometheus .
Their blood must have acknowledged Louis’. Reluctantly, Aster withdrew.
A smattering of blood had formed on the chapel floor. Louis’s arm was a mess; rivulets ran down to his wrist, leaking into his glove. When Aster wiped their chin, the back of their own hand was a smear of scarlet.
Louis did not acknowledge the murder scene; he was staring directly at Aster with an intensity that took them aback. He licked his lips. “Your eyes…”
“Hmm?”
“Nothing, just – they’re glowing.” He coughed and appeared to regain his composure. He regenerated his wound, and produced a handkerchief. “Do you feel any different?”
Aster lapped away the blood-smear on their hand. “Prometheus.”
“It worked, then.” Louis said, pleased. Perhaps he wasn’t back to normal yet; he wasn’t wiping down his arm, and anyway there was no way that scrap of fabric could do the job. His eyes never left Aster’s.
“Are they still glowing?”
Louis shook his head, a little harder than necessary. “It’s fading.”
Aster sighed. “C’mon let’s clean up. I think you just lost more blood than what you took from me earlier.”
The faintest smile touched Louis’ lips. “You’re right. There’s a sink in the corner, let’s go.”
A splash of cold water on Aster’s face was refreshing, but it took a bit of rubbing to get all the blood out. Louis stood next to them, arm extended into the sink. They left the curtain undrawn; neither were undressing that far, though Louis’ waistcoat lay draped over the bath. Miraculously, no blood had gotten on his white shirt. The mirror was small and cloudy, so Aster relied on Louis’ examination to get the last of their own spots out. He was thorough, almost too thorough for Aster’s heart; his intense gaze took some getting used to. Though, it was nothing like the look Aster had caught on him mid-way through the blood-taking: if they didn’t know better, they could’ve sworn his eyes were glowing. Inwardly, they scolded themselves for getting carried away, and scrubbed their chin harder.
“How about now?”
Louis frowned. “You keep missing this.” He gestured at a spot on his own jawline, with his clean hand. He’d removed his glove earlier; it was rinsed and drying on the rack. “No, not there. Here, let me.”
He gripped their chin gently but securely, and brushed his thumb over the offending mark. Aster flinched, but he let go quickly.
“Sorry, it was bothering me,” he admitted. Aster burst out laughing. It was hard to be awkward with him when he was this earnest.
Louis raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad you’re looking more relaxed now.”
Aster buried their face in a washcloth and exhaled into it. “It’s hard to be stressed out when we look like kids in a food fight.”
“I don’t think this counts as playing with your food,” he pointed out.
Towelling the ends of their hair that had inevitably gotten splashed, Aster shrugged. “A revenant can’t really feed another revenant, right?”
“Yeah,” he said. He had retrieved another towel and began wiping down his forearm. “Some enjoy the practice, but it can’t sustain us like blood beads – or human blood.”
Thinking back, Aster could see where the appeal lay, as long as it was only taking a little at a time. They would not take it lightly, from now on. “Have you ever had it? Human blood.”
Louis paused, fixing them with an unreadable gaze. “...no, I haven’t. The scent alone is intoxicating…some revenants can’t go back to blood beads after tasting it. I’d rather not risk it.”
“Sounds dangerous,” said Aster. According to Coco, most humans were safe in government camps, so it was unlikely they’d get so much as a whiff anyway. Come to think of it, she had also warned them against human blood.
Louis dropped his towel in a basket and motioned to Aster to hand over theirs, which they did with thanks. He put his waistcoat back on. His right hand looked odd without the glove. Normally their gloves made an odd pair, since he only wore his right and Aster’s right glove was tattered beyond repair. His hands were bigger though, so it’d be terribly mismatched.
Yakumo was waiting for them in front of the planning board when they returned. He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. Louis approached the board, a serious air about him. A blood bead lay on the shelf below the pinboard – he picked it up.
“You remember that scene we witnessed in the Vestige?” Aster nodded; it was hard to forget Oliver’s voice as he begged soldiers in vain to keep his blood beads, then the child begging in turn, and Oliver’s regrets, as loss began to set in.
“That kind of stuff happens every day here. Silva has taken most of the humans who survived under his protection, so revenants are left to rely on blood beads alone to slake their unending thirst. But…well,” he said with a sigh. “Nothing in this world lasts forever. The springs started to dry up, and so blood beads grew rarer and rarer. And the order Silva created by levying and distributing blood beads won’t last much longer either.”
Aster watched the softly glowing fruit in his hand; flakes like confetti swirled within. Louis’ expression was grim.
“The world needs more blood beads. Only then can we strive for fairness instead of petty favouritism.” He turned to the board, most of which was taken up by a massive map. Photographs were pinned here and there, with red threads marking their geographical locations. “That’s why we’ve been exploring the Gaol of the Mists. We’re doing research to learn all we can about blood beads.”
“But the miasma has been a real problem. It makes our thirst even worse, so our progress has stalled. Now, though,” he said, turning to Aster with bright eyes. “We have a glimmer of hope. Your power can clear the miasma. If you could help us…well, you’d be drawn into a bitter conflict…”
Aster regarded him curiously. He was being more considerate than they expected. Though, he was right – Aster didn’t need their memories to know they woke up in an absolute shithole of a world.
“Still,” he continued, looking at Aster with that same clear gaze. “The truth is, we don’t have a lot of hope without you. Will you join us?
It was a convincing speech, and another listener might be left all fired up for improving revenant society. Aster, on the other hand, thought him too idealistic. It was a noble goal – likely more noble than any other revenant group’s they could hope to fall in with. But ideals and societal reforms meant little to Aster. What they could understand, however, was kindness, and debt. Louis had reached out to them. And besides, Io said she liked it here, and Aster didn’t disagree.
“I’ll do it.”
Louis broke into a rare smile. “Thanks.” He held out an ungloved hand, which Aster shook with their scarred one.
“So, it’s a done deal?” Yakumo finally spoke. “Well then!”
He raised something red in his hand – Aster thought it was another blood bead, but it turned out to be an apple. He tossed it at Aster, who caught it. “From now on, you’re one of us. Yakumo Shinonome.” He offered his own handshake. Aster took it firmly. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing you in action.”
Louis nodded in approval. “Let’s get right into it. Here’s what’s going on…”
Their next destination was the old city ruins. According to past research, bloodsprings consistently appeared on top of bloodveins, a network of capillaries beneath the ground. With Aster around to disperse the miasma, they hoped to come closer to finding the source of all bloodsprings, by following these bloodveins.
“Sorry for the rush,” Louis added. “But we should head out as soon as you’re ready.”
“Got it,” replied Aster. “I’ll just let Io know.”
“Might wanna make sure your gear’s up to scratch too,” suggested Yakumo. Aster nodded thanks, then walked over to where Io was watching them with a level gaze.
“Did you get all that?” It didn’t hurt to ask – she looked spacey, but the girl could be pretty sharp.
“I heard most of it. What’s that?”
Aster was still holding the apple. “Oh, it’s Yakumo’s. Do you want it? It’s a fruit, kinda sweet-sour.”
Io stared blankly back at them, but reached out anyway. Come to think of it, revenants did not need to eat, so why did Yakumo give them an apple? With a shrug, Aster handed it over. Io turned it over in her hands.
“Is this our new home?”
It was surprising to hear it put that way, but Aster nodded. “Louis’ been good to us. I’ll see his mission through. You just sit back and relax, maybe ask Rin to show you around.” They had a feeling they could trust Io with the bubbly girl.
“...I’ll be waiting for you.”
Aster gave her a quick hug. “Be back before you know it.”
When they approached Rin’s armoury, there was an unfamiliar figure standing there, clad in sturdy white armour. He turned as Rin called out a greeting.
“There you are,” he said in a strong baritone. “The revenant Louis sees so much potential in. I’m Davis. I’m here on behalf of the provisional government…though people tend to drop the ‘provisional’ qualifier these days.”
“Aster. Nice to meet you,” they added, a little cowed by his official-ness and stern expression.
“Aww, don’t mind Davis,” Rin jumped in. “He’s a big ol’ softie.”
Aster heartily disagreed, but did so silently.
“You’re heading out?” asked Davis. Aster nodded. “You should know, there are rumours around of a revenant attacking other revenants. Foolish to turn on your own kind like that. The government is considering taking action with regards to this so-called “Hunter”.”
The thought was disconcerting. Aster frowned. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Don’t do anything senseless,” Davis warned.
“He’s just concerned,” added Rin. Aster gave her a lop-sided grin; Davis was forthright but not blunt or cruel.
“Anyway,” she continued. “I hear you can express any number of different blood codes! Aren’t you the lucky one! That means you can change your abilities to fit your current strategy.” A glint appeared in her eye. “Do you have any idea what a huge advantage that is in battle?!”
“Rin…” Davis shook his head.
“Uh, sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I got a little carried away. I can get a bit hyped up when I talk about weapons and fighting.”
“It’s alright,” said Aster hastily. “I wanted to ask you about this sword anyway.”
She brightened, then deflated when Aster presented the one-handed sword they scavenged.
“It’s…fine,” she sighed. “It’s a Queenslayer Blade; they made lots during the Operation. It does the job, but I know I can mod this thing…if you have the materials?”
They quickly realised Aster did not, but Rin rattled off a quick description so they knew what to look out for. Louis and Yakumo also knew what they were looking for, she assured them.
“Oh well, it matches your blood veil, I guess,” she said with a shrug. Aster had left it in the bedroom, but she must have seen it when they arrived. When Aster shot her a questioning look, she elaborated. “Queenslayer Claw, they churned these out by the dozen. Not bad either, though I could beef it up for you with the same materials.”
Aster sighed. They had a lot of work to do. “I’ll pick ‘em up.” Rin beamed.
“Maintaining your equipment is the difference between victory and death,” added Davis. “Your life is your greatest asset. Keep it safe.”
“I-I will,” said Aster. Rin was right, he was just concerned. It was a running theme, in this place, to their constant surprise.
Yakumo was waiting by the big chapel doors. Aster excused themselves, taking their sword and dashing around the corner to retrieve their blood veil. They ran into Louis on the way, who was shrugging on his own blood veil.
“You good to go?”
His gaze was clear and full of trust. Aster nodded and strode over to the chapel entrance. Time to repay that trust. Together with their new allies, they ventured back into the wastelands.