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betterillusionist · 11 days ago

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Not Quite Friends

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Headcanon context:

Simeon Firemane - ex-spy from Dragonspyre who managed to escape to Ravenwood near the end of the Dragonspyre Titan War. He's married to Roland Silverheart.

Roland Silverheart - a druid born in ancient Ravenwood who watched his people be killed by the Dragonspyrians fleeing from Rydall's Plague. He has since been able to overcome (most of) his grievances and has married Simeon Firemane. Can be easily gaslit over simple details due to his age.

Boris Tallstaff - minor deity-type entity with the power of stories. His physical body is made up of hundreds of magical talismans. Lives/Imprisoned inside of the Ravenwood Library because of Roland.

Ivan Soulsinger - former Dragonrider whose spirit is now stuck inside of his family's heirloom sword.

{Written & posted at the request of @raynee-main}

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"We're here, daemon," Roland growls as he holds the heavy vault door open without a care in the World. The heat of lava streams into the space first, invading the cold air and consuming it whole.

"Oooh!" Boris hums with great interest as he rushes inside. He curls around the mysterious device with immense curiosity. A bright crystalline blue gem pulses in its affixed slot in a small black box, humming with otherworldly resonance. There's a second, smaller slot on top, which is currently empty. It sits at the bottom of an elevated dais, upon which sits an intricately carved piece of wood. The runes, however, are dormant.

Once he's finished with his inspection, Boris' chest flutters open, and from the cavity within he retrieves a short stack of papers and a green crystal that he can just barely cover in full with his fingers. He lets the papers float before him - three in total, two informational and one note - to make it easier for him to scan them.

- Place the Knowledge Crystal in the receptacle on top of the main panel (one with blue crystal) - Touch the blue crystal - Wait for the portal to fully open before entering - If the runes don't light up, flip the Knowledge Crystal and try again

Note p3.4 -> If you think this will ruin Roland's opinion of Simeon, please don't bring him with you. I know it's unfair for him to not know where he came from, but seeing it first-hand is not something to be taken lightly. It will be as real as it had been for us. Not just the war, but who we were to each other then, too.

Boris does exactly as the instructions say. The green Knowledge Crystal slides perfectly into the small slot atop the forward black box. Once it is nestled into place, it starts to shine with silver sparkles and hum along to the crystal below it. Then he carefully places a single papery finger to the one right below. The moment it connects to its smooth surface, the whole machine whirls to life. Bright blue energy rushes up the steps and fills the runes of the arch, bathing the two in its brilliant glow. A portal appears in its center, expanding outwards from a single central point. Its surface is murky red and purple as its hazy edges swirl like storm clouds. Distant echoes emanate from within, though the words are far too hazy to make out in full. At least the thing works.

He turns back to the instructions.

Once inside: - Don't stray too far from the crystal's owner (me), or you'll risk leaving the past and you will have to start all over again - Don't stop events from occurring. History must fly its course - Each memory only lasts for so long and contains a gateway that leads further in. Its appearance is different every time, but it will usually glow

Note p3.5 -> This is "the past" through my memory. As such, I can't tell you how it will flow, but there should be a pattern to it. You'll just have to figure it out on your own. But interact with the world as much as you want. Don't worry, it won't change anything in reality. It will all stop on its own whenever you get to the point where I die, if it brings you that far.

He turns to Roland, who stands quietly in the vault's opening, still supporting the door with a tireless arm. His long white cloak hides away most of his knightly armor, a red cross painted over the polished metal chest plate. His silver eyes gaze curiously at the Bookkeeper and the machine, though he is still quite grumpy on the inside.

"Explain," he demands at last.

Boris raises a fist to his mouth and "clears his throat", as the mortals say. "I had expressed some interest in learning more about what happened during the Dragonspyre Titan War, and Ivan graciously loaned me his Knowledge Crystal-" He stops his spiel abruptly as Roland scowls with skepticism. "Hey, I'm not a thief!" Boris defends.

"Simeon is aware of this, oui?" Roland checks.

"Well, uh, that I don't know," Boris admits with a shrug. "It all happened kind of fast. But Ivan's okay with it, so…"

"Morceau de papier volant ignorant…" the knight growls beneath his breath. Boris keeps back an eye roll of his own. Of course he's embellishing the story a fair bit - basically all of it - but only to try and dissuade the brute from following after him out of his knightly obligation. This is not that important and he can do this on his own. What harm can he be to the greater Spiral inside of a memory anyway?

"It's just archival work, Roland, it's nothing fancy," Boris says, waving a hand back at him dismissively. "I just need someone to stand guard while I poke around."

Roland, as he (sadly) expected him to, shakes his head. He steps into the room properly, releasing the vault door and allowing it to swing shut behind him. His cape very nearly manages to miss getting caught between the door and its bolted frame.

"You will not leave my sight, daemon," he declares.

"For the love of Creation, I'm not a child!" Boris exasperates. "I've done this stuff before without-"

"This is the deal we struck. Vous vous conformerez."

Worry creeps its way across Boris' face as he can only bring himself to straighten his posture. He does have a point, unfortunately. So now it's time for him to be blunt. With a sigh, he opens his mouth once more, speaking firm and clear so that there is no room for the knight to misunderstand him, "Ivan thought that it's important for… at least one of us to know what kind of people they used to be back then. If you think you'll be able to handle that-"

"Bien sûr," Roland states with confidence as he glides forward. As he passes Boris, he wills the papers back into their stack, hiding Ivan's notes from his gaze. He can't help but worry as he follows the knight through the ominous portal. Hopefully he's overthinking the outcomes. He just has to have faith in Roland. Yeah… This won't destroy any relationships... hopefully.

>>> [ Memory 1 ] <<<

An armored dragon crashes out of the ashen sky, leaving a crater in its wake and ejecting its passenger. Although armored, the boy bounces and rolls down the destroyed street, crying out in pain as he tumbles uncontrollably. A staff flies from his hand - a bright red shaft capped with a golden dragon curling itself around a perfectly spherical ruby - along with his sword. He lands with his back to Roland's feet, huffing and puffing in an attempt to gather what little of his senses remain.

Boris takes the liberty to slap a talisman to the knight's shoulder. The runes painted on its surface glow with brilliant blue light as it makes contact with his metal. Before Roland can give him a wary glare, Boris states, "It's just for translation."

The boy's hand wraps around his sword and swings it wildly through the air behind him with an angry cry. Roland catches it with ease, the blade's spectral blue metal clanging against his gauntlet. Startled, he looks up. It's Ivan, not too much younger than his ghost. His face is horribly scraped, with little pieces of stone and dirt lodged between bright red streaks that tear his face open.

He's tired, broken, and shell shocked. Tears start to glitter in his eyes as they dull, fearing the worst. That his life is over.

But that time has not come just yet.

Boris flashes him a warm smile, bending forward to get a clearer view of the wizard's face. "Hi there! Don't worry; we're here to help you. Right, Roland?" He raps the back of his hand against Roland's gleaming chest plate. In answer, Roland releases the sword and lowers his arm, his head raising up at the sound of another, more immediate threat. The marching of heavy boots and the rustle of wings echo across the ruined landscape of what once was a lively city street. Roars of bloodthirst and war rise with warning. Roland goes for his greatsword in an instant, the long blade flashing beneath the darkened sky.

Ivan, however, turns to the limping dragon. Its massive body blocks the road beyond it, shielding the wizard from its view. And beyond it is a wall of hazy color, an incomplete picture that Ivan never got to see, or perhaps blocked from his mind. Its wings spread and mill uselessly at its sides, revealing holes in its leathery skin. Broken arrow shafts still lodge themselves in its underbelly. "Blitz!" he cries out, scrambling to his own injured feet. He doesn't get two steps before his legs give out, making him stumble down to a knee.

The downed dragon turns its armored head to Ivan. Its voice is deep and smooth, with only a hint of pain in its throat, as it speaks, "Ivan, run."

"But-!" the wizard tries to argue, his grip tightening on his sword, only for Blitz to beat its tail against the ground and roar at the sky. "A rider's promise is his word. I will buy you time. Go, Ivan! Live!"

The result of a conversation driven to breathlessness finally arriving at its climax. And with the dragon's words, Ivan's sword flares with brilliant white light. The wizard doesn't react to the sudden change, still enraptured by his dragon. Roland raises an arm to shield his eyes. Boris is the only one that takes action, understanding exactly what's going on. The memory must be ending, and the gate has opened.

>>> [ Memory 2 ] <<<

His finger draws away from the blade as he looks up. No longer do he and Roland stand on the battlefield surrounded by ruins. Here, the houses are whole, and, while the sky remains ominous, there's the sounds of life all around them. Soldiers walk up and down the street. Dragons with their young dance overhead. Some hold aloft other wizards clutching little red and gold sticks - staves similar to Ivan's. No one pays the two obviously out-of-place strangers any mind, as if they had been standing there all along.

Roland lowers his arm and blinks in surprise, taken aback by their sudden change in surroundings. "What did you do, daemon?"

"Brought us to the next memory, I suppose," he answers.

Ivan himself is standing not far away, a brown satchel hanging down from his shoulder to rest by his hip, a white roll of bandages in his hand as he gingerly tends to an injured dragon. His sword, which is inside of a leather scabbard now, is left resting against the side of a metal fence. He must have taken it off so that he could treat the injured beast.

From the busy and faceless crowd then emerges a red specter that glides across the way, emitting an air of importance. It walks right up onto the sidewalk and stalls at the fence's edge, not daring to enter. The dragon's weary eyes open to peer at the newcomer, though it hardly moves much for Ivan's sake.

"Ivan Soulsinger?" a familiar voice asks. It's with a thick and sharp German accent that has all but gone by present day, but there's no doubt in Boris' mind that Simeon has made his first appearance.

Ivan's head tilts but doesn't turn as he remains focused on his duty. "That's me. Did another drake-?"

"Don't worry, it's not important," Simeon reassures him. "I'm here to inquire about your dragon, Blitz."

Ivan's face contorts, even as the rest of his body fights to remain calm. He continues to wrap the bandage around the wing, but his fingers are starting to shake. "He's still injured from patrol," he lies.

"After five days?" Simeon hums.

"It's pretty deep. He'll need at least another week-"

"What if I told you he was dead."

Ivan comes to an abrupt halt. His fingers curl around the ball of bandages, trying to crush it with his might. At last, he turns around, and the red specter takes shape. It is, indeed, Simeon, though it's hard to tell. His outfit is sharply different from what Boris is used to seeing. A red cap hides his eyes from view with its long bill, with half of a golden star embroidered on its front. He wears a red suit and matching pants, a cape fluttering behind him, its metal clasp hanging above his heart. Dark silver shoulder guards glint at them, a curled dragon painted on in black ink. His boots are slim but firm and appear slightly cushioned, too. His arms are wrapped around his back, and an empty smile is spread across his face.

"You-!" Ivan breathes through gritted teeth. He looks just about ready to cut down this man where he stands.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to write you up, either," Simeon promises, holding up one of his hands in a calming gesture. "I'm just here to figure out what happened."

Ivan lets out a huff. "How did you find this out?"

"I work reconnaissance," Simeon replies. Boris can't help but release a skeptical huff of his own. Simeon just lied right to Ivan's face, so easily and without skipping a single beat. Reconnaissance? That's only half of his job description. He looks to Ivan, fully expecting him to call out his bluff, but looses that hope just as fast as it had built up. This is but a memory. Ivan doesn't know anything about Simeon yet.

Ivan's shoulders slump, his eyes straying to the ground. "We were ambushed while out on patrol. Blitz… didn't make it. As you saw."

"And you didn't help him," Simeon asserts.

The wizard inhales sharply, a cord having been struck within him. "I… I did. I tried. But…" He shakes his head hopelessly. It would have been him against an entire army. If he had stayed, he would have most certainly died. But it's not like Simeon knows that.

"So you fled from the enemy and left your dragon to die," the Pyromancer sharply accuses.

Ivan steps forward, pushing his enraged expression right up to the bill of Simeon's hat. He dips his head low so that Ivan can't get a good look at his face.

"You would have run, too, if you were me," Ivan replies.

Simeon frowns, though it's just as emotionless as his smile. He's thinking, but Boris can't tell what it could be about. Ivan eventually steps away, returning to the bandaging he had abandoned. Simeon lingers for a moment longer before turning to go.

"Thank you," he says, his voice rather flat. The tat of his shoes fades away into the busy air. Once he senses that the stranger is gone, Ivan releases a heavy sigh. He rests his head against the side of the dragon, who doesn't seem to mind much. As he leans, the bandage he holds begins to glow. The path forward is now open to them.

Boris doesn't hesitate. He pushes himself over the fence, leaving Roland behind on the sidewalk, still enraptured by the moment. His sudden movement breaks the knight's concentration, however, but he's too late to hold the Bookkeeper back. He's already upon the second gate, hand outstretched…

>>> [ Memory 3 ] <<<

"Ah-!" Ivan yells in alarm. His hand rears back, abandoning the bundle of bandages he was reaching for. Boris lifts his hand as well, yanking his head away. He wasn't expecting to be that close to his face! "You again!" he breathes at last, anger boiling just beneath his words. He shifts on his knees, preparing to stand.

A young drakeling bounces at Ivan's side and hisses up at the floating boy, sputters of flames curling from its nostrils. Boris lifts himself away from the tiny creature in an instant, raising his legs as high as they can go to avoid catching fire. The curse of having a physical body… But Ivan moves fast as well, curling his arms gently around the agitated beast's neck to hold it at bay. "Calm down. It's okay…" he reassures it, though he eyes Boris with great suspicion.

"You remember me?" Boris asks, intrigued by this sudden development.

"Of course I do!" he snaps back. "Where did you go? You said you were there to help!"

"Oh, uh… yeah, about that…" Boris replies with a weak chuckle. How much should he say to the memory? It seems like they're moving forward in time, so it makes sense that some past knowledge will be retained. Ivan didn't warn him about stuff like this happening, though this could all just be his Crystal's unique quirk. But if that's the case, he doesn't want to wind up in a situation where the story strays so far from what it's supposed to be that he'll have to restart from the very beginning.

Though as luck would have it, Ivan's gaze becomes distracted, flickering beneath the floating being before him, farther down the path. Boris can hear it, too, soft yet firm. Marching footsteps. Ivan blows a breath through his teeth, his face turning livid. He releases the drake from his grasp and finally rises.

Simeon is waltzing down the slope - this time, they're situated along a spiraling pit bustling with hyperactive drakelings and their elders - arms behind his back just like last time. His march falters as he lays his eyes on Ivan's new friends, clearly not expecting the extra company. Boris can feel a cold, judgmental air pass over him. But he doesn't need to finish his trek, as Ivan storms right up to him, his trembling hands latching onto his collar. Simeon doesn't seem fazed as the boy shakes him around with all his might.

"You wrote me up!" Ivan spits, trying to keep himself from yelling too loud.

"No, I did not," Simeon corrects him calmly.

"How else did I get reassigned so quickly?"

"Did you really think you could hide a dead dragon for very long? Someone was bound to find out-"

"You found out!" Ivan states, shoving him away.

Once he regains his footing, Simeon simply raises a fist to his mouth to clear his throat. His other hand slides into a pocket and withdraws a small green Knowledge Crystal - the very same one Ivan is letting them use - and presents it to the boy before him, jumping right to the business he is here to conduct, "I am Officer Simeon Firemane from the Dragonspyre Intelligence Agency. I would like you to become my informant."

Ivan is quiet, though he emits an aura of stunned surprise.

"I stand by my promises, Ivan," he continues, lifting his chin a little higher. "I did not report you. That is not within my purview. But I promise that if you work with me, I will help you however I can. Starting with this." He waves the Knowledge Crystal higher. Ivan's head tilts forward, obviously staring at the thing with restrained interest.

Suddenly, Roland surges forward, a mass of muscle and might barreling towards the two echoes. Simeon snaps his arm back, narrowly avoiding Roland's blade as he swings it between the two, severing their conversation. Ivan as well takes a step away from the knight, startled.

"Roland-!" Boris can't help but call out in alarm.

"You are not Firemane," the knight growls down at the spy. His grip tightens on his hilt. A subtle warning that he isn't to be trifled with.

Simeon frowns ever so slightly beneath the knight's stern gaze, as if this were but a minor inconvenience to him. He gives the Knowledge Crystal a toss, flipping it over the greatsword that divides him and Ivan, whom hastily catches it on the other side with clamoring hands. He doesn't relax until the Crystal is securely in his grasp.

"Think about it," Simeon says to Ivan as he takes his leave once more.

"What do you think you're doing?" Boris exclaims, finally darting forward himself. "We're supposed to be observing, not getting in the way!"

But Roland shakes his head, his face firm. "That is not Firemane's aura."

"Of course it won't be! Alignments can change! Just look at Ivan and-"

Ivan is staring back at him, the Crystal being held gingerly in his hand. His expression is blank, but he is aware. Very aware. A pang of panic shoots through Boris. Did they say too much?

"Who… are you two?" the echo asks.

Boris whips his head around, trying to find the next gateway to no avail. They - and by "they", he really means "Roland" - must have cut what was supposed to be a much longer conversation incredibly short. Now they're stuck needing to explain to the memory of a dead man that he's… well…

Ivan slowly bows his head, his eyes straying to the Crystal he now holds. Simeon wasn't shy about who gave the thing to Ivan in the first place, though he had framed it like a peace offering or a gift. Here, it's more like a token. A promise. A desire. His fingers curl around its smooth edges, and he releases a long, shaky breath. It sounds like he's figured it out all on his own.

"I don't really have much of a choice, do I?" he asks.

"Um… not really," Boris admits with a shrug.

"And you're already familiar with that officer?"

Boris lets out a long sigh. "Yes."

Ivan's gaze remains fixed up the path. Simeon stands nearby the memory's wall of haze, his face clearly turned towards them. He's not trying to hide the fact that he's stopped to observe the group for himself. If Ivan's echo can retain memories, then surely Simeon's can as well. Which means they'll just have to be extra careful.

"I hear the DIA is quite ruthless with hiring and promotion," Ivan comments, fiddling idly with his new trinket. "He must be above exceptional to be an officer already. And to have spare Knowledge Crystals to hand out…" He can't help but return to the gem again as his thoughts trail off.

"Are those things rare?" Boris inquires.

"They are now. Dragonriders used to get them, but with this war, all the blank ones have gone to the more… 'important' people." He can't seem to help but roll his eyes. "I guess the preservation of dragon riding isn't 'important' anymore."

"Scum," Roland comments quietly.

"But you're not here for that, are you?" Ivan guesses, returning to the two visitors as he pockets the Crystal, removing it from his sight. "To learn about dragon riding, I mean."

"No, we're not," Boris replies a bit more comfortably. "We're actually trying to stalk Simeon-" Roland shoots him a glare, driving daggers through Boris' thin skin. "-but since he wears his Crystal 'round his neck all the time and won't tell us anything, you're letting us use yours as a substitute!"

A weary and mildly hurt smile tugs at Ivan's lips. "I see…"

"You wanted us to do this," Boris tries to reassure the echo. He reaches back into his body and retrieves the handwritten note and instructions, holding them out for Ivan to see. "Even wrote a whole essay and everything!"

"Is this wise, daemon?" Roland asks as Ivan stares at the papers with interest. "Letting the dead read his own handwriting?" Ivan stands a little more rigid at the sound of his comment as he shuffles to the next paper.

"You don't just call it out like that," Boris mutters back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "He's already figured it out anyway. Why not?" Roland still releases a disapproving huff, turning back to observing their surroundings.

It takes Ivan a while to read it all, but when he finally reaches the last page, he laughs. "Damn, you weren't kidding! I never write like this in class!" His smile falters as he reaches the bottom of the page, however. That, Boris will admit, was perhaps an oversight on his part.

"Anyway, we're stuck here waiting for the next gate to open," he says, quickly ripping the papers from Ivan's hands with a casual flick of the wrist. "Don't know when that'll be or where."

Ivan nods, though his attention diverts itself away from Boris and back towards the drakeling he had been trying to care for earlier. It plays with the bandage ball with happy snorts, using its sharp nails to roll it between its paws. He steps back over and retrieves the ball from the ground. "That's not a toy," he chuckles softly, lowering himself down to his hands and knees. The drakeling lets out a disappointed whine that's only soothed by the Dragonrider's soft touch along its snout. "Sorry about that. Where does it hurt?" The drakeling turns over one of its front paws, revealing a small cut that bleeds a dark gold substance.

As Ivan sets about fulfilling his original duty, Boris takes a glance over his shoulder. He just barely manages to catch a glimpse of Simeon's boot disappearing into the fog. He stuck around for quite a while…

But there's still no gateway, which is what's troubling him. And with this being only the third scene, he doesn't have enough information to try and predict what it is they should be looking for. First his sword, then the bandages… His eyes dart to Ivan's Crystal-shaped lump in his pants. It can't be that, can it? If it is, his armor is doing a good job at blocking the light. And if he's right, he can't help but wonder where they will wind up next.

"Ivan," he speaks up, floating down to the Dragonrider's side. He points to his pocket and asks, "Can I see your new Crystal real quick?"

He blinks back, confused for a moment. But then it dawns on him why he is being asked such a random question. "Sure." He shifts his leg to reveal the small cut in the fabric of his outfit. Sure enough, barely managing to leak out into the ashen air are the lightless rays of white he's been waiting to see.

"Perfect!" he beams back. "See you in the next scene!"

"Uh… yeah," Ivan breathes back as Boris reaches out for the Crystal.

>>> [ Memory 4 ] <<<

"Thirty-two dragons."

A paper rustles. "It says there's six still out on patrol."

"That report is getting updated tomorrow. Two were sent out yesterday and they haven't come back. Another went missing two days before-"

Ivan pauses as his eyes go wide with surprise. Boris keeps down a gasp as he flies backwards, pressing his hands against Roland's armor. Simeon's head snaps back not even a second later, his cold gaze scanning the empty space behind him.

The four have been crammed into a small room constructed out of blueish-purple brick. It's only slightly larger than one of the dorms at Ravenwood. Bed, closet, desk, and pots of dirt, all decorated with the Dragonspyre crest. Besides the obviously pre-provided basic necessities, an air of Death magic hangs in the air. A black banner adorned with a white skull hangs over the bed. A hanger has been nailed into the brick, where Ivan's satchel rests at the ready. Beside it is an empty staff mount with a bright red backing. His Knowledge Crystal has been set out on his desk, next to his writing tools and a small stack of books.

Roland's massive form shifts behind Boris as he crouches down, the ceiling not quite high enough for him to stand completely straight.

Simeon finally turns back to Ivan. "Is everything alright?"

"Ah… yes," Ivan stammers back, trying to downplay his shock. "Sorry, I just… remembered something that I forgot to do."

The Pyromancer lets out a hard hum. It's doubtful that he believes such a weak excuse. Boris certainly doesn't, even though he knows the reason why the Dragonrider freaked out.

"The Dragonriders have been instrumental in keeping track of the enemy's movements," Simeon says at last in a flat, matter-of-fact tone. "Of course, there's always certain risks that come with such a task, as you no doubt know." Ivan slowly nods back, his eyes dulling as Blitz springs to his mind. "Don't worry too much. The Hatchery is well secured, and casualties are few and far between overall."

Ivan shifts his weight around uncomfortably. "Right…" he mutters back.

Simeon's swagger isn't even fazed by the dour student standing before him. In fact, he's already turning towards the door, his business concluded. "If you have something else to get done, I will take my leave. Honor and glory, Ivan."

"Honor and glory," Ivan halfheartedly echoes.

The spy strides across the room, luckily skirting around Roland's brutish figure on his way. It's not like he can see the two at the moment, though Boris can't help but heave a sigh of relief once the door snaps shut and the three are left alone in the small room. He lifts his fingers away from the knight at last. Ivan has to blink a few times to comprehend the sight before him.

Finally, he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Couldn't you two have picked a better time to appear?"

Boris smiles and shrugs back. "Sorry! We can't really control that."

Ivan just shakes his head and sits down on the bed next to him. His shoulders slump, seeming exhausted.

"Well, thanks," he says. "It's been… hard talking with him."

Boris just hovers in the air quietly, his lips pursed as he swirls with sympathy. Poor Ivan. It's hard to not make comparisons between the echo and the ghost. He's never seen the Dragonrider look so down before since he first met him. Of course, it could largely be because he's dead now; the normal trials and tribulations no longer apply to him in quite the same way. But in here, they plague the boy as heavily they once did.

In the silence, Roland sees it fit to kneel. His eyes shut so that he can think, his jaw stiffly clenched. A low, rumbling hum emits from deep within his throat as he thinks. Boris can't help but feel bad for him, too. As much as he hates to admit it, the druid is getting up there in age; he's probably struggling to find his footing with how fast the Knowledge Crystal has been moving. It's a young mind eager to show them everything. Boris would love to slow things down for him, too - he barged right in without letting Boris prepare him in advance, and already that's caused a small problem - but he doesn't know how he'd be able to do that.

"Is he okay?" Ivan asks, nodding towards Roland.

"Oh, yeah, of course he is!" Boris replies with a smile, patting the knight's shoulder. "He's just getting a little old for this sort of stuff."

"Silence, daemon," Roland demands beneath his breath.

"Look, you could have stayed behind," Boris points out, poking at one of the wings on his helmet. "But you didn't."

His eyes crack open, shining silver staring off into the distance of his own mind. They eventually shift over to Boris, slow and smooth, and he demands, "His papers."

Boris flicks his eyes as he produces Ivan's written instructions. Only his instructions. The knight yanks them from his hand and begins to read them over as Boris drifts to Ivan's side.

"Hey," he whispers into the echo's ear, his voice becoming the soft rustle of papers blowing in the breeze, "I'm going to need you to play along with me. He's going to ask where the note is, and we're going to pretend like it doesn't exist. Okay?"

"Why?" Ivan breathes back.

Roland is already weighing the two sheets of paper in his hands, scanning them both at the same time. He's starting to scowl, something amiss deep within his gut. Boris probably shouldn't be saying this at all, but Ivan's already seen the papers. And once the two of them leave, all that Ivan knows in this instance will be forgotten.

"Because him and Simeon are married," he replies. Ivan sucks in a sharp breath, shifting on his bed. Boris rests a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

Roland looks up, his glare sharp and accusing. "There are three."

"No there isn't," Boris retorts, forcing a frown across his face. "It's just those two."

"Don't play games, daemon," he growls back. "I saw you with-"

Boris shakes his head. "All he gave me were those two sheets."

A chip carves itself into his face, confusion slowly tinting his annoyance. He takes another glance at the papers in his hands. "There are references written here-"

"Yeah, I saw that," Boris sighs, trying to sound annoyed by the "small, unexplained detail" scrawled beneath each checklist. "I guess there was supposed to be a third one that he just forgot to hand over." He gives an exaggerated look towards Ivan to get his attention. He lifts his eyebrows at the Dragonrider expectantly, his eyes darting back towards Roland. Now is as good of a time as any for him to speak up.

"Yeah…" Ivan speaks slowly, turning towards the knight, "I, um, I only read the two, too. Sometimes I leave that kind of stuff in for personal reference and I forget to erase it. It's not really meant to mean anything to other people…"

"Ah, so that's why," Boris hums.

Roland releases a heavy sigh and, shifting the papers into one hand, rubs his aching forehead. Boris gives Ivan a soft pat on the back, even as he wears a troubled frown. It's for the best.

He floats back over to the knight and gently reclaims Ivan's instructions. He lets them go without hassle. Boris opens his cavity once more, careful not to show it to Roland or rustle the note still inside or else immediately expose his lie. He can't help but feel bad. He likes to mess with Roland's ailing memory so long as it's about something benign and silly. But this time he's treading on thin ice with his perception of Simeon. He still can't tell for sure how Roland will emerge from this experience yet. The last thing he feels the knight needs to read is big, bold, block letters screaming at him,

DON'T TRUST SIMEON

He might take that advice back into the real world with him. That would almost certainly bring about an early end to his newest partner, a man he already had to break down his own ancient barriers for to trust enough to fall in love with.

A growing glow of light catches Boris' eye. On Ivan's desk, one of his books begins to take on the gateway's bright halo. Boris almost jumps at the mere sight of the gateway, but he flinches just as hard, holding back. Dread settles on his papery form. For the love of Creation…

Roland looks up once more, alerted to the change in his environment. He follows Boris' outstretched arm towards the glowing book. "That means… it is time to move on?" he asks, recalling the instructions he just read.

"Yes," Boris confirms with an airy breath. Roland shifts on the ground with a grunt of effort, climbing back up onto his feet slowly and carefully. He has to hunch forward at the waist to keep his head from ramming into the ceiling. Seeing that Boris isn't moving, he lumbers up to the desk, an armored arm extending from beneath his cape.

"Bye!" Boris manages to chirp, giving Ivan his best cheerful wave. The Dragonrider blinks back at him, though he does manage to raise his hand in a parting gesture just before the book drags the two forward into time.

Please, please, please, don't let this next memory happen in the library…

>>> [ Memory 5 ] <<<

Roland lifts his hand and his head as the colors of the world clear up once again. Boris keeps back his first visceral reaction - panic. It's the Academy library. For the love of Creation, why did Ivan's memory have to bring them here?!

The book itself rests on the central desk, waiting on top of a pile of others to be returned to their rightful places on the shelves. There's not many people here milling about, and those that are present are dressed head to toe in armor. To be fair, there is a war going on presently; who has the time to pick up a good book anymore? Ivan is nowhere to be seen, though he must be around here somewhere.

He turns his gaze to the second level, searching… Ah! The faintest rustle of a book just barely reaches his ear.

He taps Roland's shoulder, causing the knight's head to turn ever so slightly.

"I'm going to look for Ivan up top, if you can look around down here," he proposes.

Roland heaves a reluctant sigh. "Do not cause trouble."

"I won't, I promise," Boris semi-lies. He should really be the one telling that to Roland. He doesn't know if this will count as causing trouble, but he still must go. He best deliver a warning now, just in case…

He rushes off before his smile can falter and dives into the outer-ring of bookshelves. Almost instantly, he feels a second presence latch onto him, staring at him with a heavy air of confusion and panic.

The papers rustle. You…?! How is there…? Why is Roland…?

Don't worry, he tries to reassure his past self, we're inside a Knowledge Crystal.

An air of understanding passes through the space between them as the Bookkeeper settles down. Interesting…

I don't have much time, Boris starts. I need you to stay away from Simeon Firemane. You know who I'm talking about, right? That officer from the DIA?

Ohhh, him! Why?

If you're not careful, he's going to find out about… us- you- yeah, you. And for my sake, I don't want that to happen. Memories are retained from moment to moment here, so-

Oh… his other self hums quietly, stiff with disappointment. He takes a moment to breathe, the books nearby gently fluttering. I'm sorry, that… that already happened yesterday. You're too late on that.

'Yesterday?' Boris breathes back, the tomes near his consciousness tremoring. What? There shouldn't be a yesterday, should there? But then he remembers some of the comments and reactions Ivan has made. How he kept reacting like many, many days have passed by between each scene. Does that mean that the time when him and Roland travel between memories still simulates itself? And that the characters within the Crystal still live through history, but can also act in accordance with the knowledge that the two Crystal travelers impart onto them?

He had been getting close. It was only a matter of time, the Bookkeeper confirms. It was like… he knew what he was looking for already.

Did you two talk?

No. But he knows. I'm sure of it. I'm sorry.

No, it's okay… Boris mutters. But just… just don't talk to him, whatever you do.

…Okay…

With that, Boris breaks free from the shelf, leaving his past self to zoom off. Peering over the railing of the second floor, he doesn't see Roland anywhere. Has he found Ivan yet? He hopes he has. He also hopes that he isn't causing any more trouble…

Boris doesn't have much of a hard time locating him once he floats back down to the first floor. The bookcases are quite low, letting Roland's towering head stand well above them. If he were to stretch his arms up above, he'd come close to touching the underside of the second floor. His head is already bent, his gaze engaged by whoever stands before him. Boris holds back a relieved sigh as he approaches, not wanting to jinx himself just yet.

"...be surprised if he's done... things," he hears Ivan comment, his voice muffled by the environment. The Necromancer lets out an airy breath full of frustration. "He... really likes that little piece of paper."

Boris comes to a gliding halt on the ground, his footsteps soft. He runs a hand along the side panels of the bookshelves. The brute's large back faces him as he peeks around the corner.

Roland's cloaked figure heaves, releasing a conflicted hum. "He has reasons for his methods."

"Of course you'd say that," Ivan grumbles.

Roland's head tilts to the side, unsure what to make of his comment.

"Ah, you found him!" Boris says at last, making his presence known. Roland turns his body, revealing the short wizard standing before him. Ivan's eyes are weighed down with black bags. He doesn't even try to put on a friendly smile as he regards Boris. "For the love of Creation, Ivan! You look-"

"Yeah," he yawns. "I've been studying."

"In the middle of a..." Boris' thought trails off as Ivan shoots him a glare. Right. What a stupid question for him to ask. Classes will keep going right up until the Academy is destroyed.

Roland shifts, making his cape sway behind him. His silver eyes are locked onto Boris so intensely that they appear to begin vibrating. Boris kicks himself up into the air to lend the knight's stewing thoughts a private ear.

"Firemane's alignment has darkened again," Roland confides. "It is..." He doesn't finish, but Boris can interpret. It's making him worried. Boris can't help but frown back, trying to imagine in his mind what it is Roland can see.

"Well, time still seems to simulate itself-" Boris starts to explain, only for Roland to shake his head.

"No," he states. His eyes shift to the side, gesturing to Ivan behind them, who stares up at two whispering Crystal travelers with a rather annoyed expression. "He... made it."

Seeing as Ivan has quite a clear view of Boris' face, he does his best to keep down his bewilderment. Ivan did what? What in the Spiral happened down here while he was off on his short detour?

He's about to ask Roland to clarify his extremely vague statement for him when a small ray of light peeks out from beneath Ivan's sleeve.

Oh no, it looks like the gateway is opening again. He'll just have to pester Roland for more details in the next scene!

"Oh, well, looks like it's time to go!" he announces suddenly, gesturing to the Dragonrider. Ivan scowls and looks down at himself, trying to find what it is that Boris is waving at. It takes him a moment, but he eventually rolls up his sleeve to reveal a simple leather and iron bracelet clinging tightly to his wrist.

"This?" he asks, holding it up to Boris. The Bookkeeper nods back with a smile he feels is probably a bit too wide. "My... Academy bracelet?"

"Yep, that's it!" he says, darting forward, one hand already outstretched. Only this time, Ivan yanks the gateway away from him.

"Hang on a second!" Ivan demands. "Don't you realize what's going to happen?"

"What? Do you want me to apologize in advance for appearing in your face again?" Boris sighs.

"Well, uh... I don't know. But I'll probably be at school! You can't just show up on campus grounds like that!"

"Why not? We just invaded your dorm-"

"Simeon, you flying bucket of dragon dung!" Ivan hisses back. "Simeon's going to be there!"

"I mean, he's already been present-"

Ivan makes a small, strangled noise as he blasts Boris with a burst of air. With it, though it's hard to say for sure, the entire library - the memory - feels to tremble ever so slightly in response. It makes his papers rustle anxiously as his magic tries to figure out what exactly he just felt.

"Ivan, please, we have to move on now," Boris tells him gently. "Whatever it is you're worried about, we'll just have to deal with it whenever it happens."

Ivan remains steadfast in his decision for just a few seconds longer before finally relenting, holding his bracelet up for Boris to touch. But his tired gaze fixes itself elsewhere, not wanting to watch the floating stranger flash out of existence.

>>> [ Memory 6 ] <<<

The colors blend together as formless voices chatter incoherently in their ears. The memory is not quite yet clear...

{Check back later!}

#wizard101 #wizzy101 #wizzy #writing #fanfic #headcanon #short story #to be continued #roland silverheart #simeon #ivan soulsinger #boris tallstaff #request #i have been possessed

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