The Restoration Protocol

14 || reflect

They don't encounter Jugo or Riis in all the time it takes to get back to the PIPTIA station. Not biting at their heels, nor in the furthermost reach of their frequent, frantic glances at the castle which is quickly swallowed up by Hollowmire's thickest blanket of fog. It would seem they simply...gave up. As if they realized that once the thieves were outside of their home, it didn't matter anymore. Their precious key is gone...

...and in Soleil's possession. Making three out of a total of five. Passing the halfway mark to their goal, Mariko wishes she could be happy. But her heart stings more with every step they take away from the castle, all the way to the bridge overlooking the Carcass Ravine, and to the station lying not far from its reach. It's as empty as when they left it. Not a traveler to be seen aside from themselves. It's a moment to rest — but little more than that. Julian finally takes notice of Sebastian's head injury. The blood, rolling down the side of his cheek while he endeavors not to show how it hurts. And Mariko catches a glimpse of something intense flash across Julian's face. He insists straightaway that they head back to his shop in Wynsmith. It's near another PIPTIA station, so after running the idea by Soleil, Julian receives her approval that it should be safe for them to go back.

Not that he would really need her permission, anyway. Anyone could tell just by looking at him that Julian wouldn't have taken 'no' for an answer. He would have gone whether she liked it or not and dragged Sebastian back there with him. Despite her many functions, Soleil regrettably confesses she knows nothing of human medical care. Electrical engineering can't cure a head wound. Weapons couldn't stop the bleeding.

It isn't even a serious injury, Sebastian claims. It stunned him at the time, sure, but any dizziness the impact may have inflicted faded in seconds. And by the time they make it to House of Valentine, he insists the sting of the cut has already begun to die down as well. No need to cause a fuss. But Julian causes one anyway. He only keeps his silence as they speed-walk the short distance from the station to his shop, and from there the active volcano sets off.

Mariko feels responsible. Only Sebastian faces the wrath of Julian's fiery anger, and he wasn't even the one who came up with the idea to steal the key. If anything, Mariko believes she should have gotten lectured — not that she enjoys being yelled at by adults, but it would at least make more sense. Sebastian is the main reason she made it out in one piece. Real life or not. She can't deny it meant something to her that he bothered to help at all. That said, she decides not to wait inside the shop while Julian is tending to Sebastian's injury. Mariko distances herself. Daylight has shed itself upon Wynsmith by this point, but the waterfront district is still rather peaceful and without much commotion. It would seem news of Soleil's 'kidnapping' has been kept under wraps after all — either that, or the people of Paracosia's capital are doing an impressive job of remaining composed. They're sure to wonder where she's gone, though. Their precious Keyholder and beloved songstress and symbol of hope...

As she sits by the edge of the boardwalk overlooking the ocean, Mariko's eyes wander over to the Keyholder in question, standing as motionless as a statue with her face and hair once more shielded from view. Soleil has expressed a desire to distance herself as well, just for the time being. Though she doesn't say so explicitly, it's clear she feels responsible for Sebastian getting hurt, too. It was her idea, after all. Thus, in a display of humility and remorse, Soleil goes as far as to give the three keys in her possession to Mariko for safekeeping.

"Although it's shameful to admit, I may have done the same even if I had been alone," Soleil had told her moments ago, "but I wasn't alone, so I shouldn't have taken the risk. Forgive me."

Mariko tried to reject it. But Soleil was so insistent that she felt she had no choice. Now the three keys hang about her neck. She tried to put them in her backpack, but something stopped her. A sort of glowing ring materialized around them as she prepared to drop them into the open bag, and when she let go, they just hovered. Indisputable evidence of their value, she assumes, that not just any player could snatch them up and hide them away from sight. A strong breeze passes by and they clack together like gentle windchimes. Mariko holds one up in the palm of her hand. The silver key spins and the name carved into its side catches a ray of light.