Shattering Realization (Pt 4/4)
Star Souls AU
Not the end of the AU, buuuut of this section of it :3c
Sif’s awake! This means everything is back to normal… right? Right? Of course, Odile doesn’t intend to just let it go that easily. Some things are answered, others are not.
Odile POV
<< PREV || FIRST
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Odile slept surprisingly well considering Boniface almost gave them a collective heart attack the evening before. The troublesome preteen apparently decided to sneak into Isabeau’s tent and snuggle up with Siffrin in such a way they could barely see them. If not for the fact that Mirabelle caught Siffrin moving slightly, they likely would’ve been out all night. While she would’ve appreciated their rogue at least attempting to signal them, it didn’t seem like he could very easily talk, and the sight of him stroking Boniface’s hair was admittedly enough to warm even her overly practical, often abrasive excuse for a heart.
Of course, even the best sleep and mostly finely crafted sleeping bag in the world would not prevent her back from hurting after another night of camping. A truly disconcerting number of clicks and pops filled the tent as she sat up, trying to ignore the twinge of pain. Nothing to be done for it except a stretch or two—battle-specialized healing craft only did so much for muscle aches and old bones.
Odile put on her day clothes and shuffled out of her tent with a container of tea leaves, the siren song of caffeine calling to her. Thankfully, it seemed all was more or less as normal in the little group. Mirabelle and Boniface were already up with a fire going, the preteen cooking some eggs. However, there was one thing both odd and relieving: Siffrin was also awake, helping feed twigs into the blaze.
“Good morning, young ones. Good to see you feeling better, Siffrin,” she said.
“Mm hmm. Same as ever!” Siffrin chirped. “Just needed a longer nap than usual, sorry about that.”
That was an understatement. “Siffrin. Being asleep for over a full day does not count as a long nap so much as a short coma.”
Mirabelle jolted in place. “Madame! Should- should we bring that up? I mean-“
“It’s fine?” Siffrin said. “I knew it was coming. So… what do you want to know?”
“Nothing that can’t wait until after we’ve all eaten and I’ve gotten caffeine in me.”
Boniface side-eyed Siffrin, scraping at the eggs with unnecessary aggression. “… ‘Cept Frin. You can’t actually eat, can you?”
Siffrin hid his face in the collar of his cloak, head tilted so his hat hid his eyes as well. “Not in the traditional sense, no…”
“…. So what? Have you just been throwing your portions out?”
“Of course not!” Siffrin said, shaking his head emphatically. “That’d be a waste! I’ve just been sneaking them onto other people’s plates.”
Mirabelle gasped. “So I’m NOT crazy! All those times I thought that the food wasn’t ending, that more just kept appearing, that was you?!”
“Um. Yes. Sorry?” Siffrin said.
Boniface sighed, “You don’t gotta humor me anymore. I guess I keep the same portions though, since everyone was eating your share anyways?”
“Oh. Yes, that’s fine,” Siffrin said.
Odile put on her tea, and Mirabelle went to wake up Isabeau as breakfast was done. Bonnie divided up scrambled eggs for everyone who could eat, but…
“Oh? Siffrin? Are you not hungry?” Isabeau said, earning a charged look from everyone. “Did I say something weird?”
“I don’t have a digestive system, don’t worry about it,” Siffrin said.
“Oh! Oh… right. I guess you wouldn’t,” Isabeau said.
Odile read a book for most of the rest of breakfast, but it didn’t sound old she was missing much of interest. It was abnormally quiet. Siffrin apparently decided to start cleaning up before everyone was even done, the mess mostly gone by the time Odile finished her plate. She sipped the last of her tea—strong and black, just as she liked it—and decided it was about time to address the elephant in the room.
“So, Siffrin, you aren’t human,” Odile said.
Mirabelle immediately started stammering, Boniface mumbling something with their arms crossed while Isabeau looked nervously at Siffrin. Siffrin, however, simply nodded. If she didn’t know that his face was crafted with naturally a neutral expression, she’d assume his current smile was literally painted on.
Of course, he didn’t say anything, and neither did anyone else, so seemed she’d have to take the lead here.
“So what are you then?”
Clearly he was some form of supernatural being, but that narrowed it down surprisingly little. Given how human he usually acted, it seemed most likely he was a ghost, but assumptions were dangerous. Besides, ghosts tended to haunt important areas of objects and usually had an agenda, a reason to linger, and to be blunt, Siffrin seemed fairly aimless. So presumably, he was a spirit of some sort, but that did virtually nothing to narrow it down. “A spirit” could encompass anything from the simplest Sadness to, arguably, gods. Of course, there was always a chance he was built into the doll that housed him, making him something artificial, and really it was going to be faster to ask.
“I don’t know,” Siffrin said.
Oh she could feel the migraine coming on. “… what.”
“I don’t remember really…?” Siffrin said. “I know I’ve been wandering around a while, but I don’t really remember why. I guess just because I don’t have anything better to do?”
Old suspicion flared up as she narrowed her eyes. Generally speaking, spirits didn’t just “forget” what they were, at least not any developed and/or human-like enough to have coherent thought.
“So… you aren’t a ghost?” Mirabelle said.
“Maybe…? But if I am, I’m kind of bad at this,” Siffrin said. His eyes slid between all of them as he pulled one leg into his chest. “Sorry, I’m sure this isn’t making me sound any less suspicious or weird, is it?”
“Not really, no,” Odile said. “But I suppose if you’re telling the truth, it’s not entirely unheard of…” She’d heard a few tales of amnesiac gods, of things great but either stupid or unfathomable, of spirits and beings who hid things for reasons. It was hard to tell what you were dealing with until it was too late. Pressing him too much was probably a bad idea. Better safe than sorry.
“You seem to know a lot about this, M’dame,” Isabeau said. “Is your field of research spiritology?”
“The word you’re looking for is Phasmology, and no, it’s not my field of research. Much of what I’m saying is more or less common knowledge in Ka Bue, though I’d argue that we’ve historically placed too much stock in the works of spirits and ghosts. Though I suppose it’s only natural. Much easier to blame something you don’t understand on an unknown spirit than try to find the science behind it. That said, I don’t think you know what a heated debate is until you bring up the Bright Death in a room full of Ka Buan historians. I got a rib cracked for that.”
“… huh.” Was all that Siffrin had to say. Taciturn as always, it seemed.
Mirabelle cleared her throat, speaking with the slow deliberation of someone holding something back. “So… Even if you don’t remember what you are, you’re aren’t flesh and blood either, are you?”
“Nope,” Siffrin said. “I’ll admit, I don’t know the name for this material, but…” He was grinning. Was grinning that grin. The grin that came before a particularly bad pun. He was even rubbing his hands together. “If you want a closer look, I can give you a hand with that!” And then he tossed his hand to Mira.
As in the whole thing.
It just. Popped off.
“SIF?!”
“OH CHANGE OH CHANGE OH CHANGE-“ Mirabelle shouted, hands fumbling with the detached limb until instinctively flinging it away.
Odile felt vaguely nauseous, and Boniface’s eyebrows were furrowed together. They came to hide behind Odile.
And Siffrin was laughing. Though as they all kept staring, he seemed to wilt in front of them. “Uh… too much? Sorry, I-I thought it’d break the ice…” He got up, awkwardly shuffling to where his gloved hand had landed and putting it back on with a pop, wiggling his fingers demonstratively. “See? Good as new! No harm done!”
“Sif. Siffrin. Buddy. Are- are you okay? That doesn’t hurt, does it?” Isabeau said, hand hovering in the air.
“It doesn’t. I’m designed to come apart, when I need to,” Siffrin said. He hesitated only slightly before pulling his cloak and sleeve up, exposing his elbow joint. “I actually, um, have to take myself apart sometimes. For cleaning.”
Mirabelle’s eyes were a bit too wide, but she kept her composure surprisingly well for someone who was screaming moments ago. “Is that… scary? I mean, you have to take yourself apart.”
“I mean, not really? It’s probably like taking a bath to you guys.”
Isabeau was staring intently at the exposed “skin” of Siffrin’s arm, face flushed. Gems alive, that man was head over heels, wasn’t he? Getting flustered from the slightest showing of not-skin.
Odile rolled her eyes, unable to deny the fondness in her heart for these four. “Like taking a bath… vulnerable and personal, especially with the element of limited movement, but I’d imagine that any fear would wear off, if it ever existed.”
“O-Oh! Yeah! That makes sense!” Isabeau said. “If, uh…”
“If…?” Siffrin said.
“Nevermind!”
Gems, these two. Get a room. Actually, they all should, preferably at an inn. They needed to get moving.
“Well, I’d be interested in seeing how all of this works, but we did get held up a day or two. We should get moving as soon as we can,” Odile said.
“Yes ma’am,” Siffrin said. He started pitching in, helping others pack. After all, everything he owned was conveniently kept on that one body and its many hidden pockets and apparent crevices. One day, if they beat the curse, she’d find them all. Not today though.
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I prefer tea, but buy me a Kofi?
