233. Lament

Faint clanking reverberated across the town square, its source a workshop Zetius hadn't noticed on his first visit. A strange chimney sat atop it, puffing white smoke. Through a glass window, racks were filled with various weapons, while the adjacent shop displayed armour and all sorts of artefacts Zetius had never seen before.

The arc smith was a scrawny man in a thick leather apron, his gaunt frame a stark reminder of Jack Squire — and the life he once lived. That felt like a distant past now. The smith paused, eyed Zetius strangely for a moment, then returned to his work with a long pole.

Zetius and Cubie strode past the chit-chatting royal guards in their uniforms, the tips of the spears resting at their sides, pointing skyward. Fifty metres out, Zetius spotted another major teleport platform of a similar design.

They walked deeper into another section of the square, where buzzing crowds shopped for groceries. The sweet scent of fruit whiffed from the stands where an old lady sat in apparent boredom, fanning herself with one hand. The ecstatic shows and carnivals had ended, and now everyone had to return to their lives. That whiplash was something Zetius understood all too well.

Then, he spotted her. Her crimson hair stood out above the rest. Making a cone with his hands around his mouth, he bellowed, “Astrid!”

“Zeta!” Astrid emerged from the crowd, followed by Aurelia and Friederich. They quickened their pace, their faces a mixture of intrigue, excitement, and worry.

“Zetius, you’re on your feet. That’s a new recovery record.” Friederich held up his fist, and Zetius raised his to bump it.

“Never better,” Zetius smirked.

Aurelia chimed in, her voice bright. “I knew you’d be in good hands when I performed the channelling ritual! Celestius Vivian is indeed the best doctor in the world!”

“Not a real doctor, though,” Zetius grumbled to himself, the thought of his recent interaction souring his mood.

“What did you say?” Aurelia asked, not following.

“Nothing.” He cleared his throat.

Astrid stepped close, clad in shiny red armour with a proud badge of honour on her left collarbone. The tall girl stared at him, her eyes scanning him from top to bottom. “You appear to be in peak condition. What did she do to you?”

“Nothing much!” Zetius snapped, failing to sound nonchalant. “Anyway, there’s something to address.” He stepped aside, revealing the luminous, spectral girl behind him.

“Hi, everyone! It’s me, Cubellina!” Cubie waved anxiously, uncertain of their reaction. Would they feel differently about her now?

A collective gasp escaped their throats. Aurelia glanced up at her surrogate child. Yesterday, she was the size of a football; now, she was a fully grown woman, beautiful and possessing a form that even the goddesses envied.

“What is going on?” Aurelia’s jaw remained ajar for a moment before she snapped it shut and clasped Cubie’s hands. “Cubie! You’re so cute!”

“Hehe, thanks, Mama,” Cubie chuckled.

Friederich massaged his forehead with his index finger. “It’s a chaotic race, but I think I saw it too. She manifested a full apparition right before Zetius landed that decisive strike.”

“That strike was fantastic! You really taught Celestius Nyrethein a lesson, Zetius. I couldn’t be prouder.” Astrid smiled, her teeth flashing. She clapped him on the shoulder; each impact sent a tremor down his legs.

“It seems everyone is getting excited.” The elven mage wove through the crowd from another section, carrying his natural charm with him. His dazzling, bewitching look drew the eyes of the ladies nearby.

“Apologies for my tardiness.” Willhelm carried a paper bag of apples, his boots clapping firmly on the cobblestone. Behind him, Lampi, Canis, and Frain flocked closely, wearing expressions of delight.

Lampi bowed low, her horned head dipping. “It’s my fault! I’m so sorry, everyone! I forgot my book at the hotel!” she said, her voice shaking.

“It’s okay, my dear Lampi. It was a mere minute,” Willhelm spoke up, waving it off. The others forgave her without a second thought.

Canis stroked his chin where a beard might have been in his wolf form. “So this is the new little Cubie.” He gently offered his hand toward her. “If I may?”

Unsure, Cubie eyed Zetius and Aurelia, who both nodded in approval.

She reluctantly placed her hand in Canis’s. He squeezed it gently in examination. “Your manifestation is a true wonder,” he exclaimed. “A projection of this kind is usually hollow to some degree, yet you have substance — flesh and bone. It's a true transcendence of the arcane.” Finally, Canis let go and tipped his invisible hat theatrically.

“You mentioned she is a mythic tier, right?” Willhelm questioned.

“Correct. She is classified as a mythic-tier essence,” Zetius replied firmly.

“Can you try this?” Willhelm reached into his bag and handed her an apple. Cubie accepted it with a grateful look before nibbling on it like a child.

“It’s sweet!” She smiled with her eyes closed.

“Fascinating, indeed,” Willhelm remarked.

Taking her turn, Frain approached. “Whoa! You’re taller than me!” She measured their heights back and forth with a flat hand.

“Sister Frain!” Cubie wrapped her arms around her, sharing a brief, warm hug. They giggled endearingly at one another before parting.

The Lioness then turned to Zetius. Her purple eyes locked onto his before she handed back a long cloth that was draped over her arm. “It’s your arc coat, Zetius.”

“Ah! Thanks for keeping it safe for me.” Zetius nodded appreciatively, taking the coat and sliding it on. The long fabric flapped and cascaded down his legs.

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The party chatted and chuckled together, but for Zetius, their voices soon faded into the background. He found himself scanning the area for someone else. Shouldn’t she be with Frain and Canis, given they were from Germund?

There, a few metres from the group, Lupus stood with her hands clasped behind her back like an outsider. Her gaze lingered on a far-off scene, her silvery hair fluttering in the wind. She reached up to brush a stray lock from her lips. She was still as beautiful as the day he last held her in his arms.

“Go on, you idiot.” Astrid slapped his back, making Zetius jump. He glanced back at his friends, and their supportive expressions gave him the courage he didn't know he needed. Self-doubt had crept in and nested in his heart, but he knew it was time.

“Be right back,” he whispered before striding away. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, a slight quiver in his step. Each footfall felt so wrong, yet he pressed on until he stood before her.

“Lupus,” Zetius said, confronting her.

Slowly, she turned to meet his gaze, but he failed to hold it.

Lupus didn’t say a word. She just studied him, probably trying to piece together how this young man could be her late husband. How much of Jack Squire was left in him? Was he still the same man she had loved? She had doubted, with no way to prove it.

“Zetius, right?” Lupus finally spoke, her voice cold. It held none of the warmth she’d had for Jack.

“Yes. It’s my true name.” Zetius’s eyes fell to the ground. An unexplainable tightness seized his chest and throat, and he found himself gasping for air. No matter how he tried to brace himself, his psyche wasn’t ready for this.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Zetius.” Her words crashed over him like a massive wave. She stepped past him, pausing only to add, “Goodbye.”

Do something! Bloody do something! His mind roared, struggling to break free.

“Wait! Lupus,” Zetius snapped. Before he knew it, his hand shot out and gripped her wrist, refusing to let her go. She looked at him with those same dull eyes. He was a stranger to her, but he would not accept that.

“I’m Jack Squire. I’m coming back for you…” He confessed, his lips trembling.

“My husband is dead, Zetius.” She stressed his name. “You may have his name, his memory, but that doesn’t make you him. You need to understand that.”

“What…” Zetius felt the blow. His world slowly crumbled to dust.

Lupus studied him — his youthful visage and his sculpted physique. Zetius was an arcanist, through and through. Jack Squire had been a kind gentleman who would rather die than disrespect a lady. He was, without a doubt, a simple man whom she had loved dearly.

“You’ll have to let it go,” Lupus said firmly. “Let go of my hand.” Her voice hardened.

It was no use. The Lupus he knew was truly gone. He had been lying to himself all this time. And what about Jack? Was he still the same person? He wasn’t even sure about that himself.

“Lupus, I’m not letting you go. How can I? See, I remember every single word—”

“Cut it out already!” Lupus raised her voice, loud enough to draw glances from others. “You’re not him. And I’m not her! Not anymore.”

He wanted to say more, to explain everything, but would she listen? Or would she only see a man wearing her husband’s face? The words stuck in his throat, never to leave his lips.

“You won't find the same person twice, even in the same person,” she whispered. It wasn’t clear if the words were meant for him or for herself. Perhaps they were for both of them.

“I don’t love you, Zetius…” She muttered, ever so softly. Yet, he heard every single word. And it struck him hard, harder than any arcane could even do.

Zetius just stood there, his mind plunged into the abyss; it could no longer process her words. His body turned into stone, too dumbfounded to act.

With a sharp tug, she snapped her hand out of his grasp and stomped away. She left him with sorrow, disappointment, and rejection. His gaze downcast, Zetius bit his lip, forbidding his tears to spill. He had to be strong, even if his heart had just shattered into a million pieces.

At the far platform, a portal hummed to life. Lupus walked past the guards and stepped through the mesmerising warp without a word. Canis and Lampi soon followed, one at a time. The last was Frain. She took a reluctant step forward, then retreated and ran back to Zetius, her arms outstretched.

The lioness leapt into his embrace, and he caught her.

“Zetius… I’m so sorry,” she whispered, nestling her head against his chest. She felt it all too well, the pain he had to bear.

“It’s alright.” Zetius rasped as he brushed her blonde hair gently. “You take care of Lupus and yourself, okay?” he said, forcing his words to remain steady.

“I will, Zetius. I will.” Her voice was small and trembling as tears streaked down her cheeks.

Cubie approached and lightly tapped Frain on the shoulder. “Sister Frain, we’ll visit you often.”

“Promise!” Frain blurted out, and Cubie nodded. The two exchanged a final, warm hug before Frain departed for the platform, where the royal guards ushered her toward the shimmering portal.

With tearful eyes and trembling lips, Frain looked at Zetius one last time before disappearing. The portal dispersed into motes of light, and they were gone. Just like that.

Zetius’s heart sank into the void. Hades’s hell, he could barely stand. This was the end of the road. He found it hard to accept, but he decided to tuck this pain deep inside.

The rest of the party watched him with worried gazes, none daring to speak into the thick tension.

As he and Cubie rejoined the group, Zetius forced a smile. “Sorry, guys. I messed up.”

His attempt at levity prompted only awkward reactions. Aurelia cupped her lips, Friederich shielded his eyes with his hand, Cubie drew her lips into a thin line, Astrid stood frozen with her body visibly clenched and her eyes unblinking, and Willhelm offered a weak, sympathetic smile.

Realising the mood had soured, they all agreed to split up. Duty called, and they were all needed outside Borealis Castle.

“Stay strong, Zetius,” Willhelm said, and they exchanged a respectful nod.

Astrid was next. “I’m sorry about that,” she said, biting her lower lip guiltily.

“It’s not your fault.” Zetius sniffed, brushing his nose and steadying his voice. “Where to?”

“Back to the flagship.” Astrid opened her arms wide, and they exchanged a hug. “Keep your channel open, you hear?”

“You bet,” Zetius whispered, closing his eyes.

Soon, they teleported away, one by one. Friederich and Aurelia were the last to leave. While Aurelia was still clinging to Cubie in a long, lasting embrace, Friederich gave him an empathetic glance. “You sure you’ll be okay, Zetius?”

“I will be. I always am,” Zetius said, not meeting his gaze.

Friederich gently placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “If you need anything… anything…” he emphasised.

“I’ll call, and you’ll come,” Zetius completed the sentence.

“Me and—” Friederich paused, eyeing Aurelia. She agreed with a deliberate, slow blink. “—Aurelia will come to you.”

“Thanks. That’s quite reassuring.” Zetius attempted another smile. Friederich turned to say goodbye to Cubie, giving Aurelia her turn.

“Stay out of trouble, would you?” Zetius jested, a joke that failed to land in the heavy air.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Zetius. You’ve been through a lot.” She gently pressed her palm against his chest, feeling the gentle vibration of his heart. “Just know, I’m here for you. Always.”

“I know,” Zetius grunted, feeling a sliver of bliss amidst the maelstrom in his heart. “And I appreciate that greatly.”

“Speak soon.” Aurelia took a step back and rejoined Friederich as the portal rippled deeply behind them. They gestured a final, small wave before disappearing.

“Mama…” Cubie mumbled, her voice small and filled with sorrow.

To her surprise, it was Zetius who softly ran his fingers through her hair, offering comfort.

“Hang in there, Cubie. We’ll get to meet up with them soon. I promise.” Zetius clasped her shoulder and pulled her close. Humming softly, she rested her head on his chest, watching the portal destabilise and disintegrate into dots of light.