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Four hundred years.
She still can’t quite wrap her mind around it.
The people who found her have all been very kind, at least, despite their obvious confusion. Not only that, but apparently they did some sort of magical procedure while she was unconscious. She can move – sit up on her own, speak without her words coming out awkward and mushed, drink the glass of water at her table, even walk the short distance to the washroom without stumbling and falling. It’s nearly as much of a shock as the four hundred years, though on the whole, it’s a far more pleasant one.
There’s so much that she’s missed. She still tires easily, needing rest often, and so it takes several days for them to fill her in on everything. Y’shtola, the woman with cat ears, says that the fatigue is a good sign; it means her body is trying to recover.
She’s learned most of their names by now. Y’shtola and Shale are the ones who found her. There’s G’raha, who says he went through something similar, once, being held in stasis for years. He tells her that it’s perfectly normal for her body to need to readjust, even without taking the levinsickness into account, and that she’ll get stronger soon. She’s glad that the twins like to wear different colors, or she would have a terrible time telling them apart until they spoke, although she thinks she’s starting to notice more of the differences.
Wuk Lamat is fascinating; Sphene’s never seen anyone who looks quite like her before, even though there’s something oddly familiar about her. She’s like a ray of sunshine, bright and warm and friendly, though a thread of sadness runs through her when she speaks of the Endless Sphene. (Sphene can’t help but wonder if the fur that runs across her skin feels as soft as it looks, though she’s also aware that asking to touch it would probably be incredibly rude, and tries to shake the very persistent thought from her mind.)
There’s Ardwin, as well. She has a way of taking up space in a room. Some of it’s her physical stature, to be certain. She’s tall and broad, even more so than Wuk Lamat, but she moves with the same sort of masterful, easy grace as Otis and Zelenia do- did, Sphene reminds herself with a sharp pang. More than that, she has a gravity to her. It’s subtle, but Sphene was trained in politics and court manners, and this is exactly the sort of thing she was supposed to learn to notice: the way almost all of the others revolve around her, just a little, even Wuk Lamat, who she’s been told is the co-ruler of a nation spanning two continents. Sphene was taught how to figure out who held the most power in a room – a critical skill for diplomacy and negotiation, figuring out if a monarch was the true seat of power, or someone else held their strings – and there’s no doubt that among this group, the locus of power settles around Ardwin.
And then there’s Arkose.
Sphene has no idea what to make of Arkose.
For the first couple of days, they don’t really talk to her. They just sit in a chair in the corner, silently watching her. Sometimes, their gaze is critical and evaluating, trying to figure her out. Other times, they hold anxious vigil, as though they fear she’ll disappear if they look away. If they aren’t staring at her, they remain a fixture in the room, fidgeting with bright-colored little balls or tapping at a small, glowing tablet.
Arkose makes no attempt to speak with her directly, but she does overhear them talking with the other group members on occasion. She catches a bit of an argument between them and the red twin, Alisaie, something about a porxie, which she evidently wins by glaring at them. Another time, she thinks she hears raised voices from outside the break room after they step out with Ardwin, who returns alone.
“Is everything alright?” Sphene asks her. “I thought I heard shouting.”
“Ah, it’s nothing. Arkose is… having a particularly hard time, with all of this.” She shrugs. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t about you, exactly. They’re used to me having lots of advice, and I was fresh out of stock. No big deal. They just need a little space to cool off.”
Sphene frowns thoughtfully, a theory beginning to form as to their strange behavior. “Is it something to do with the other version of me? I suppose if they’re from Everkeep, they would have known her.”
Ardwin blows out a breath. “You could say that, yeah. You’ll have to ask Arkose. It’s… not my story to tell.” She shakes her head. “Sorry. I should let you get some rest. Do you need anything before I go? Juice? Snacks? Teddy bear?” She smiles on the last one, though Sphene gets the feeling that it’s an honest offer as much as a joke.
Sphene shakes her head with a polite smile. “No, I’m alright. Thank you.”
“Alright, if you’re sure. And don’t worry about Arkose,” Ardwin reassures her. “They’ll come around, I expect. They just need time.”
Arkose is back in their usual spot the next day. They glance at her occasionally, but mostly fuss with the little colored balls or the tablet.
When the others head out to pick up food, and Arkose stays behind, she decides to try and broach the awkward silence between them. “So, er, Arkose. Do you juggle?”
“Juggle?” They look baffled for a second, then look down at the bright green ball they’re holding. “Oh, the balls. Haha, no, I’d be trash at it. I have- had, I guess?- levinsickness, too, they’re supposed to make my hands stronger.”
They stand, moving from their corner to the chair next to her bed. She can see it as they walk towards her, now that she’s looking closely; they’re more confident on their feet than she is, but they step a little higher than necessary, likely a lingering habit. Likewise, as they sit down, they lean on the side table for support.
“Here, want to try?” Arkose asks, offering her the ball they’re holding.
Sphene holds out a hand, and they hand her the ball. It feels strange, sort of rubbery, with a little give to it and a textured surface, probably to make it easier to hold. She tries to squeeze it, the same way she’s seen them doing. It’s surprisingly difficult.
“Oh- my bad, let me get you an easier one,” Arkose interjects, noticing her struggle. They pull out a different ball from their pocket that’s a light pink, instead, and trades her for it. “There, that’s the one I had to start out on.”
Sure enough, it’s far softer, though she can feel her hands starting to get tired after squeezing it a few times. “How long did it take you to get to the green one?” she asks.
“I mean, it was a few months for me, but you’ll probably get there faster if you try. My recovery went a little differently. It wasn’t the same as you where I woke up and poof, all better. I cheated a little.” They chuckle. “You know how reflections are a thing? They all used to be the same world, once. When it got split into shards, so did the people living there – and it turns out Ardwin and I used to be the same person.”
Sphene’s eyes widen. The same person? “So that would make you… soulmates, then?”
Arkose nods enthusiastically. “Yeah! Pretty neat, huh? I still can’t quite believe it sometimes, she’s so cool.” They give a besotted little sigh. “Oh, plus, it meant she could siphon off some of the levin from me. It wasn’t as good as the porxies, but it was way better than before. Alisaie finally talked me into getting porxie’d a few days ago, though, so now I’m cured? Ish?” They shrug. “Still going to have a bad time if something zaps me, but I should be pretty stable apart from that, Alisaie said.”
“How did you find out you were soulmates? You seem so…”
They laugh. “Different, I know. She said it varies a lot, between souls. Some look and act almost exactly alike. Ours are apparently all over the place, looks-wise, except for the eyes.” They point at their sky-blue left eye, the color a perfect match to Ardwin’s right. “She thinks a lot of our personality usually comes through, and bits of the old name tend to stick. We got along like a house on fire right away, but she only figured it out when we touched – the levin tried to balance out, meaning I zapped the hells out of her.”
“Oh no!” Sphene exclaims, a hand flying to her mouth.
“Oh, she was fine, said it barely hurt. I was so confused, though, I had no idea what was going on, and meanwhile she was freaking out like she had just won a kajillion credits or something.” Arkose laughs at the memory. “It’s been amazing, she’s been taking me so many places, like I always wanted to…” They trail off, face falling a little as they look at her, then look away.
“If I may ask,” Sphene ventures. “You knew the Endless version of me, didn’t you?”
Their gaze snaps back to hers. “I- Yeah. How did you…?”
“Ardwin mentioned you’ve been having a hard time,” Sphene says gently. “And that you knew… her. She wouldn’t say anything else.”
Arkose winces. “Yeah. Sorry, I know I’ve been acting weird. It’s not really fair to you. But… well… we used to be friends.”
Sphene feels her heart seize in her chest with sudden, terrible hope. “I had friends?”
Arkose looks at her as if she’s ripped their heart out.
Her brief flare of hope curdles into coldness, sinking into her stomach.
After a long, silent moment, Arkose turns away, staring into the distance. “It’s… complicated. A few years ago… we had a fight. A really bad one. We didn’t talk anymore, after that. Then she died, and… I don’t know. I’m from Everkeep. I don’t wear a regulator, but it was the first time someone I knew died.”
“I’m sorry,” Sphene says, aware that the sentiment is entirely inadequate. “If it’s not too much to ask… what was the fight about?”
They look at her again with a face heavy with old pain. “I don’t think I’m ready to tell you. Not yet. You’re… different, from her, I think. Maybe you wouldn’t have done the same things.” They sigh. “Though to be fair, it wasn’t totally her fault. I’m the one who stopped talking to her, and I said some terrible things too.”
Sphene tucks her knees up, leaning her chin on them. Not particularly dignified, perhaps, but she doesn’t feel very dignified at the moment. “Well, would you make the same choices now, knowing the outcome?”
“I mean, a lot of it’s not even relevant anymore. I’m not the same as I was.” They shrug. “Though… you aren’t the same either. I dunno. Everything’s different now.”
“I suppose so,” Sphene says. She wraps her arms around her legs. “…I never really had friends before. There were other nobles’ children, but most of them were far older than me, or far younger – and of the few close to my age, there was always the expectation of… marriage prospects.” Her nose wrinkles in distaste. “And once I took up the crown, it felt as though there was a rift between me and everyone else. I loved my people. I still do. But there is a great difference between being someone’s queen and being their friend.”
“I don’t think the Sphene that I knew had many friends either,” Arkose says. “I was just very persistent.” They smile at her.
“I am certain she cared for you a great deal, then,” Sphene says gently.
Their smile turns sad, and they give a small, bitter laugh. “I know she did. That was part of the problem.”
Sphene feels as though the outline of the issue is starting to come together, and she suspects it has something to do with the regulators: something that her Endless counterpart was apparently a great proponent of, and something that Arkose, from what she’s heard, is in the minority in abjuring. Her best guess is that the Endless Sphene tried to convince – or even force – them to wear one, though the idea turns her stomach. She has always done her best to avoid forcing others to follow her own beliefs.
On the other hand, she almost hopes that it’s something that simple and easily avoidable. The idea that she might accidentally make a grave enough error to drive away her only friend is rather terrifying, otherwise.
“I hope that you’ll tell me more, when you’re ready,” she finally says. “But as you said, everything is different now. Perhaps this is a gift, in a way. A chance to try again.”
Arkose looks at her with careful hope. “Yeah. I’d like that, I think.” They reach out a hand.
When she takes it, they beam at her.
The moment is interrupted by the breakroom door sliding open and the rest of the Backrooms crew barging back in, loud and cheerful and bearing large plastic bags of carry-out food. Taken by surprise, the two of them aren’t quite fast enough to disentangle their hands before Ardwin and Wuk Lamat, leading the rest, turn the corner.
Ardwin’s face lights up. “Oho!” She hip-checks Wuk Lamat – Sphene suspects it would be a high five, except they appear to be in a competition for who can carry the most bags of food. “Told you it would work!”
Arkose’s ears go partway back and they stand from their chair, pointing an accusatory finger at Ardwin. “You! You left us alone on purpose, didn’t you? You set me up!”
“And?” She grins, entirely unrepentant. “Worked, didn’t it? Look, you made it to best-friend-first-base already.”
“You shut your big mouth-”
Her grin turns wicked. “That’s not what you said last ni-”
They shove their hands against the base of their ears. “Lalala I can't hear youuu-”
Sphene looks between them, and then makes baffled eye contact with Wuk Lamat. “Are they… normally like this?”
She chuckles. “Oh, yeah, this is totally normal. Don’t worry, you get used to it. It’s kind of a relief, honestly, I’ve never seen Arkose so quiet for so long before. It was starting to weird me out.”
“Have they told you about the soulmate thing?” Sphene asks. “You know, I think I’m starting to see it.”
“Uncanny, right?”
Sphene looks back to Arkose and Ardwin only to see them both staring at her and Wuk Lamat. They’re still as dissimilar in appearance as ever, though she’s now acutely aware of the shared eye color – Arkose’s left eye, matched with Ardwin’s right – and their expressions are oddly alike.
The odd-eyed pair turn back to each other.
“You told her about…?” Ardwin asks, gaze flicking back to Sphene and Wuk Lamat.
“Uh – was I not supposed to?”
“No, no, it’s all good.” Ardwin smirks. “Five hundred gil on Lamaty’i.”
“Raise you seven cred on Sphene. And no hints!” Arkose counters.
“Bet.” The two of them fistbump with deep solemnity.
Sphene turns back to Wuk Lamat, utterly at a loss. “What are they betting on, precisely?”
“Who knows?” Wuk Lamat says, shaking her head. “Half the time, I’m pretty sure they’re the only ones who know what’s going on in each other’s heads.” She turns around. “Hey, Ardwin, what’s with the betting?”
“Sorry, no hints,” Ardwin says cheerfully. Arkose mimes sealing their lips.
Sphene and Wuk Lamat look back at each other, two sets of chartreuse green eyes meeting, and, in near-perfect unison, shrug.