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So Tails is talking to Professor Pickle on video, and I happen to walk by on my way down to the kitchen. “Is that Sonic?” the Prof says, loud enough for me to hear through the open door. “Sonic, how are you, my boy?”
It’s been a while since I talked to him, so I come over. Otto is with him, the two old men peering at Tails and me, with the camera giving us a good view of their noses. “Heya Prof, Otto.”
“It’s been too long, Sonic,” Prof Pickle continues, “and I can’t get out like I used to. Do come by Spagonia sometime, won’t you?”
Well, as it turns out, Soleanna’s Festival of the Sun is coming up soon. You’re already gonna be here for my birthday, and I wheedled you into coming early an extra couple days so we could go to the festival together. (“It’s in SOLeanna,” I said. “There’s fire involved. What’s not to like?” You rolled your eyes, but you said you’d come.)
I tell the Prof I'll be at the Festival with a friend, so it'll be an easy jaunt over to Spagonia. He lights up. “Marvelous. I look forward to seeing you both.”
You arrive right on time, alighting a few feet from the door. It amazes me when you do it, even now. We used to fall into each other’s worlds, Chaos-tossed and confused. Now, you walk up to the house as if coming back from a gentle stroll on Emerald Coast, and you wave at me, as if you know I’m watching.
Tails is busy, so I fly us out to Soleanna in the Tornado myself. You’ve never liked flying, so we keep the cockpit closed and you sit behind me, sleeping, or reading, or talking to me to keep your mind off the heights. I tell you every time we have to fly somewhere, you can meet me directly, or I can teleport to your world first to guide you, if it’s somewhere new. But you insist on flying with me anyway, and I don’t mind. Together we watch the sun set through the clouds.
When we arrive in Soleanna, the city is already bustling with people. We wind our way through the shopkeepers selling their wares, meals and mementos and sparklers. You take all this in with a keen eye. A man with a camera asks if we want our picture taken, and you oblige him and me. He captures the two of us standing on a bridge, leaning against the railing and each other.
Just before the boat parade begins, I lead you to my favorite rooftop that has the best view. I guide you to a spot close to the roof center, keeping myself between you and the edge until we are both sitting. The music kicks up a little—the parade is beginning.
We watch. I interrupt the silence here and there to point out different people and their roles as I’ve pieced together. Some of the people are the same year to year; others are new. You watch, listening and nodding and smiling just a little.
And then, there’s the Royal Boat. The biggest of them all, it's grander than I’ve ever seen it, and the Duke and Princess wave to the adoring crowd. “I think it’s a special anniversary,” I say, peering down at them. “Tails told me there was an experiment with Solaris, but the Flame suddenly went out—”
“It’s her,” you say, and when I whip my head around, your pupils are narrowed to slits.
“Who, Princess Elise—”
You’re standing now, staring dead on at the Royal Boat. You take a step towards the edge of the rooftop, and then another, and before I can think about it fully—damn you and your speed—you’ve hopped off the edge onto another rooftop below, heading right for the Royal family.
You race down like a person possessed, and I scramble after you. I skim the buildings with my eyes to find a way down to intercept you—the only thing I have on you right now is that I know the city better than you do. Even that I’m not sure of, seeing you leap from one rooftop to another without hesitation. A single coherent thought flits across my mind—”This feels familiar”—threatening to pull with it a series of Not-Memories, but I shove it down. “Not now, not now,” I mutter under my breath, pulling my mind back into sharp focus.
I do this just in time to see your foot brush the ghost of a building, and you fall.
I lunge after you, willing my spines flat, hoping I can fall fast enough to catch up. Your eyes are wide and wild with fear, too disoriented to know which way is up. We collide, my momentum sending us onto another rooftop instead of the ground, and we tumble until we finally come to a stop, tangled together.
The first thing I do when I can see clearly again is look you over. You’re shaken, breathing hard, eyes wide still, but you seem lucid again. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“You okay?” I manage to say.
You, staring into the air in front of you, take in a shaky breath.
“I don’t know what came over me,” you say, looking down.
I place my hand over yours. “Do you wanna leave?”
You hesitate. Slowly, you raise your eyes to look beyond the edge of the building, to the Royal Boat where the Princess and her father continue the parade, none the wiser. When nothing happens, you let out a breath.
“No, we can stay,” you say, tone even, as if nothing's wrong.
For the rest of the evening, you don’t let go of my hand.