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The… woman standing before Wise unnerved him endlessly the longer he took in her features. In the depths of Lemnian Hollow he was well aware of the dangers of Miasma and the effects it had on one’s perception, even suffered said effects himself and kept his composure together. Yet right now he can’t help but feel completely out of his element as he stared at ‘her’.
That woman is so achingly familiar it hurt him. Yet she was also so unfamiliar that he had no right to recognise her. But he did anyway, and found himself helpless. The navy blue hair messily kept, the soft face twisted into an unnerving grin, the black dahlia that supplanted her pins.
The elegant black and white dress that shouldn’t flow as easily as it did on her frame, the black umbrella held with uncharacteristic poise and grace, the long tails of her hair that blew into frame with the wind, the piercing, lifeless red eyes that bore holes into his soul, the red jellyfish that accompanied her.
Is this woman… truly Belle? It can’t be. It just can’t be her. Whatever this thing is, it’s wearing her body for whatever ends. So why does it look like her? Why did it choose this facade? And as if the uncanny feeling couldn’t get worse, she spoke.
“At the crossroads of fate, we meet ♭.”
That voice. That gentle, disarming voice Belle wore with aplomb now twisted into sickening sweetness. This isn’t her. There is no way this is her.
Get yourself together, he thinks to himself, trying to calm the rising panic at seeing this twisted mirror of his sister. He needs information from this thing first and foremost if he is to take action.
“...who are you?” The woman before him raises a hand to her chin in a contemplative pose before answering.
“Who am I? Hm, it seems to me you already know the answer.”
A verbal stab in the gut. His grimace escapes his face unconsciously. He hates being completely out of his element like this but the subject matter is just too close to his heart. How is he supposed to keep his composure when his sister is missing while she’s standing right in front of him?
“Nothing else? Alright, let me give a suggestion then,” the woman picks up from his silence, “In the mythological fall of Phaethon, after he is struck by Zeus, his body falls into the river Eridanus to begin his eternal rest. So you may slot me into your memory as… ‘Eridanus’.”
Eridanus. Wise knew the myth of the chariot ride and fall from grace to heart. It’s how he and Belle came up with the name ‘Phaethon’ after all. At the very least, this ‘Eridanus’ knows him personally enough to pick up on that detail. But,
The only person who fits that criteria… is Belle.
“What did you do to Belle?!” Wise practically begs. The panic is getting worse, the thoughts are getting darker, his lungs are too tightly constricted, his heart is several beats too fast, “Leave her body! Now!”
“I am protecting her. It is my sole purpose.”
“Protect her from what, exactly?!”
“Why even ask that question? Is the answer not obvious to you?” Eridanus almost sneers at Wise for the perceived slight at her intelligence, “I will protect Belle from everything that dares to harm her ♭.”
At that moment, in the swirling abyss of thoughts in his head, a terrifying thought crossed Wise’s mind.
“...even me?”
“If you become a threat to Belle, then yes. Even you, dear brother ♭.”