you stupid viner @imnotcameraready - Tumblr Blog

Apr 23

more than beliefs (13: into the unknown)

A/N: well, howdy :^) long wait, i lost my job and got a new one in between, but im glad to be back on this! i finally finished a future chapter, so now i get to publish this one <3 and i get to write the real drama lol

WARNINGS: i think there's one injury but beyond that, there's just a lot of tension and some of the consequences of violence in previous chapters. honestly not much that warrants warnings for in this one.

Words: 6,424

here it is on Ao3!

here are the MtB masterpost and the full Chivalry series masterpost!

hope you enjoy :)

It should have been nearing daybreak, Logan thought, watching the sky. He was holding onto Patton’s waist, Virgil holding his arm and one of the Dragon Witch’s back spines. The Thief and the Bard were seated in front of them, both holding onto one of the Dragon Witch’s spines as well. Before them, the Dragon himself was carrying the Damsel and the Artist, who had made himself a shotgun. It kept shifting into a 30’s style Tommy-gun, though. Logan had a hunch he couldn’t decide on which weapon.

“Here,” the Dragon Witch hissed.

She gestured her head towards a patch of land, right at the ledge. Near the end of the river, actually.

The Dragon grunted in agreement and landed first, letting the Damsel and the Artist slide off before changing and hustling out of the way to give her a landing spot. While she let them off her back, the Damsel peered over the edge. The Dragon kept his hand on the Damsel’s shoulder, bracing him in case.

They were creations, after all. It wasn’t clear what would happen to the Sides if they were to fall into the Subconscious, the terrifying rift beneath even the Imagination, far enough from Thomas’ mind that he couldn’t ever reach it (hence the name) but all creations that Thomas thought less about were swept below. That’s what Remus had explained.

Remus had elected to just meet them there, and that’s what he did, appearing around the Dragon’s back near the edge. It was likely he hadn’t known about the border dweller either, since they lived on Roman’s side. Just barely.

“How did you meet this person again, Vi?” the Thief asked, gently wiping his sword on his leg.

The Dragon Witch changed back into her human form, hands folding neatly in front of herself. “I had been cleaning my wounds after one of Roman and I’s scuffles when I saw him. He has an entrance below the cliff.” She pointed down.

“You and Roman fight?” Logan asked.

“He’s got an entrance where?” the Bard asked.

The Bard blinked, stepping back and gesturing forward for Logan to ask his question. Acquiescing to him.

The advisors had been doing that more. Asking him things. Giving him room to talk.

Last Logan remembered, the advisors were usually reflective of how Roman perceived him. Logan pocketed the analysis but he was still surprised to be deferred to so many times. It was like Roman listened to him. But that couldn’t be right. Especially not after this morning’s argument, when Roman sprinted out rather than let him finish.

Or — and Logan hadn’t considered this at first, but the more he thought of it, the more it seemed plausible — Roman was so upset because he took Logan’s word seriously. So Logan telling him that his ego was too big…meant something to him. And Logan didn’t know how to feel about that, knowing that his words held that much weight. He wasn’t really used to it.

“Sorry,” Logan still said, and the Bard waved his hand.

“Nope, no worries!” he hummed, and when the Thief called the Bard closer to the edge, he followed.

Hm.

Logan cleared his throat and looked back at the Dragon Witch, who nodded slowly. She was still somewhat difficult to read. She reminded him, a little, of Patton.

“Yes. Someone has to train the Prince and the Duke in their ways.” She clicked her claws together. “I was made to help guide them. Made to be a guide, by them. And sometimes that involves a spar or two.”

Remus interrupted now, patting the Dragon Witch’s arm in a familiar way. She reached over, gently rubbing his shoulder. Her size meant her hand nearly engulfed his entire upper arm, though. A little intimidating.

“Brother dearest and I have made a lovely little family ever since we Split,” he chirped, grinning ear to ear. “In here, it’s just been Roman, me, and Mommy here.”

Patton cringed and the Dragon Witch herself sighed. “Remus,” she snapped.

“Sorry, mommy,” Remus responded, grin growing. “Sorry—mommy, sorry—”

After the fourth ‘Mommy,’ Virgil shoved Remus’ arm, and he laughed even louder. At least Virgil was chuckling, too, and the Dragon Witch was hiding a grin behind her hand. With her other hand, she gestured toward the ledge, and the advisors hurried toward it. Logan followed quickly, not wanting to follow Remus’ shenanigans, and once Remus followed Logan, Virgil was close behind.

Patton hung back, one hand gripping either end of his cardigan in a nervous way. This whole situationship was nerve wracking and he had a few questions for the Dragon Witch. But he didn’t really know where to start.

He cleared his throat and tried, though. “So you’re pretty familiar with Roman and Remus, yeah?”

“I am,” she seemed…not cold, but guarded. Patton wondered what she thought of him. Both of the twins had pretty strong feelings about him, after all, in completely opposite ways.

Patton scratched the back of his neck, watching Logan talk quietly with the Damsel as they looked over the edge. The Bard approached and the Dragon wrapped his tail around the Bard’s waist as he, too, leaned over the edge to look for the entrance. They were all careful and not at the same time.

Suddenly, Patton’s stomach felt tight. There was a lot he could have done to be more careful. Should have done. Should do. He wanted Thomas to be the best person he could be and he knew that, because that was one of Thomas’ wants, it was something Roman pushed himself to do, too. But he didn’t even know what made someone a good person.

Roman staked his whole good-twin-evil-twin dynamic on Patton’s rights and wrongs. But Patton didn’t know what was right. What was wrong.

And Remus seemed…Remus cared. A lot! About Roman.

Patton wanted to ask the Dragon Witch about what Roman and Remus were like. About what he’d missed. But there must not be enough time right now for that conversation.

No wonder no one took him too seriously. He didn’t think he could handle it, in all honesty. To be taken too seriously.

So now Patton was here.

Standing in front of his ex-boyfriend’s actual self-made mom.

Surrounded by his other ex-boyfriends.

Wondering if he was even good enough at his job to be worth it, let alone a good enough person.

Golly gee. He hadn’t meant to get that deep!

“So,” he started. And stopped again.

This must be awkward. He knew what he wanted to say but he didn’t know how to put it into words. He swallowed and began again. “You did a good job. Raising them and all. Roman is…a very good person.”

The Dragon Witch huffed, shaking her head. “I taught them how to fight. And gave them a place to keep talking to each other. What makes Roman a good person is his desire to be one, and that’s all,” she argued softly.

“Mhm.” Roman did just want to be a good person, right. “But thanks for…thanks for taking care of him. And Remus.”

There was a lump in Patton’s throat stopping him from admitting the final thing. The final part that really, really made it hurt. The part he failed at.

The unspoken words must have gotten through somehow, because the Dragon Witch chuckled. Her smile was slight, but the sound she made was guttural, like it came from deep within her stomach. She lifted a claw and lightly dragged it along Patton’s forehead, brushing some of his hair out of his face, and with one click of her claws again, pushed his glasses up for him.

“You’re too hard on yourself, Morality,” she hummed.

Well… “Golly,” Patton smiled a bit, and it must have been more of a grimace, because hers tightened ever so slightly, too. “I’ve never been told I’m too hard on myself, more of a softie and all.”

He patted his chest to enunciate the joke and she sighed — maybe he laid it on too thick.

“But…thanks. In all truth, I don’t…everyone’s all mad at Janus and, well. He’s been a bit of a spoilsport while trying to make his points. But I feel like…I don’t know. I let Roman down,” Patton fixed his glasses again slowly, watching everyone examine the border.

The Bard gestured for the Dragon to hold his waist, said something Patton was a little too far to make out, and then the Artist created a rope. They got to tying the rope to the Bard’s waist so he could be lowered down. As tall as he was, he was still the lightest of them all, it seemed.

Logan was directing the group, explaining how to make a pulley for the Artist, while Virgil fussed over making the Bard the best harness.

The Dragon Witch hummed beside him. When Patton looked up, he saw her watching the group as well, idle thought written across her face. The ends of her scarf were dancing in the breeze behind her and it must have been pinned impeccably for it to not come undone in the whipping wind.

“Perhaps you did. Perhaps everyone did. But disappointment is not the end of the world. In fact,” she glanced back down at him with a shrug. “It can turn into a new opportunity, if taken wisely.”

“Like…a second chance?” Patton asked.

The Dragon Witch grinned. “You could call it that.”

It hurt. Disappointing people, upsetting people, making the people he loved sad always hurt. But it was just as important for him to not forget that he had another opportunity.

Patton nodded, turning her words around in his head. “Thank you, Vi. That was really nice to hear,” he said.

All sincerity. No jokes to be had.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her smile, too.

“Holy fuck—Eric!” the Bard shouted.

The duo turned their full attention back to the group as the Thief’s cloak flapped once more, falling over the edge. Patton yelped, hurrying forward. The Dragon lunged forward, too, almost letting go of the rope holding onto the Bard.

Still, the Thief seemed to have jumped with a purpose. He landed on a ledge, skillfully. Knowingly?

He was looking all around the cliff face, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. Virgil bent down, kneeling on the ground to watch him. He quickly leaned back when a bit of the ground crumbled beneath one of his hands, but the Damsel grabbed the back of his hoodie with an open hand.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Virgil shouted at him.

The Thief looked up. There was terror in his eyes for sure, but not just of the cliff.

“I’ve been here,” he shouted in response.

The Bard made a face, eyebrows pinching in confusion and anger. “How the hell have you been here?”

“I’ve — here,” the Thief slid to the side, gripping onto the wall on holds and stabbing his feet into holes that….he must have known were there. “Jump where I just was. The entrance is on that platform.”

With one of his legs, he pointed down, toward a platform that was just far enough down to seem like ground. To not seem like a platform at all, other than how the Thief had called it.

This was risky. Patton glanced at the Dragon Witch, who watched the advisors move with her lip bitten. He wished they’d all had more time together. If she’s important to Roman and Remus, then she’s important to her, a member of the family, and he wished he got to catch up some more. He wonders what the advisors are, to her. This must seem extra dangerous.

“Here,” the Dragon took the rope from the Artist with both of his hands, tail leaning back as a counter weight, as did his wings. “I’ll hold on, Cadence. You get onto the ledge and once you’re on the platform, untie yourself. I can fly myself and Philly down but everyone else’s gotta climb. The platform’s too small for me to be full dragon.”

“I wonder if that’s on purpose,” Logan murmured. “Vi, you said this advisor, this…Director. He seemed paranoid?”

The Dragon Witch nodded. “Yes—”

“Sorry, Scary Godmother, but can I ask for a bit of quiet? I need to focus,” the Bard called out.

He was already climbing down to the other platform that the Thief had just jumped to. And he wasn’t the most acrobatic of the advisors, not known for literal parkour like the Thief was, so these were some tricky maneuvers.

It got the Dragon Witch to quiet up and there was a brief moment of tense silence as the Bard climbed onto the first platform. He brushed himself down and watched the Thief — who’d waited, holding onto the cliff as the Bard reached solid ground — as he shuffled to the side and then literally, again, jumped. Onto the final platform.

Once on the final platform, the Thief walked forward, disappearing briefly into what must be a cave before walking back out. “It’s right here, and there’s enough room once everyone’s on. It’s just a hard jump,” the Thief lifted his arms, pointing to the holds he had just been on. “Grab there and shuffle to the side. I’ll tell you when to jump.”

The Bard shifted his ukulele behind himself and puffed up his cheeks. They were both stressed about this. He was trying to focus and the Thief was just stressed, point blank.

“You’ve got this, Cadence,” the Artist called from the top. “I’ll go after you.”

The Bard looked up at them, giving a quick thumbs up to the Artist before reaching for the first hold.

He tried not to think of how far the fall would be as he shimmied, keeping on the front of his heeled shoes. The Subconscious looked like nothing because it was nothing, it was a pitch dark void of nothing and it was every color imaginable. It was everything and nothing all at once because that’s exactly what it was, the lack of thought.

He tried not to think about how actually slippery the dirt was under his hands. How there was dirt that was going to get under his nails. He’d just done them a few days ago, gotten them done at some place in the cityscape daydream with the Playwright and the Damsel.

Oh, fuck, he just tried to think about the Thief below him.

“You’re good there, Den. Jump and you should be good,” the Thief shouted.

The Bard didn’t hesitate another second before jumping. The holds weren’t exactly over the platform so he was jumping sideways, beneath the waterfall created by the river flowing over.

He had one leg on the platform and that was enough for the Thief to grab his shirt, then his arm, and yank him fully on.

The Thief’s arms wrapped around his waist and the Bard pressed his face into the Thief’s hood.

Oh, god.

The Thief pressed his lips against the Bard’s head, kissing him messily and whispering, “You did it, Den. You got it.”

“How the fuck do you do that every day,” the Bard hissed into his neck, letting out quick, adrenaline-filled breathes.

The Thief laughed, and the Bard held him tighter.

“Are you two good?” the Dragon shouted.

They should get up. The Thief helped the Bard up, gently helping brush the dirt off his dress before signaling up. “We’re good! Gonna untie the rope and step back.”

The Artist climbed down next, realizing halfway through that he could create a slightly bigger platform for himself. He couldn’t redirect the water too much and he didn’t want the platform hitting the waterfall, but it was just big enough that his jump was much easier. He scrambled up besides the Bard, hugging his arm, and the Thief threw the rope back up for Logan.

“This is so fucked up,” Virgil groaned. “Oh my god.”

“Are you coming with us?” Patton asked the Dragon Witch, who put her hand on her chest.

“Me? Oh, no, I don’t think I should. I imagine you’d want someone watching from up here,” she said.

She brushed her dress down and stretched her wrists, watching Logan slowly and methodically climb down.

“Couldn’t you just create stairs?” he asked the Artist.

There was a pause, and then a laugh. “Shit, you right.”

“DAVID! YOU MADE ME CLIMB THAT SHIT!”

“HEY-HEY, I CLIMBED IT TOO! DON’T HIT ME!”

“Hit him harder.”

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

Logan sighed. The Bard had smacked the Artist over the head as he laughed, a small delay before he waved his hand and a stairwell popped itself out of the stone cliff face. He even made a railing on the other side, boxing Logan in so he wouldn’t fall. It was at a weird angle to get to the platform, but at least it was safe.

The stress must be taking the edge off his critical thinking. That would make sense. Once he reached the platform, Logan gently patted the Artist’s shoulder, and the Artist waved him off with a tired grin.

“Sorry about that,” he said.

“It’s alright. I should have suggested it earlier,” Logan countered, but the Artist shook his head.

“Nah. Glad you brought it up now. I can’t even imagine Pops trying to make that jump.”

True to form, Patton managed to trip on the safe stairs, and Virgil kept him upright until they were on the platform.

With stairs present, the Dragon and the Damsel just followed last. The Dragon opened his wings near the back for the cliffside wind to buffet. Once they had descended, the Artist handed everyone flashlights he’d made and he flicked his own on the entrance.

The light shone on the Thief, who’d moved closest to the cave’s entrance. Despite being carved into the side of a cliff, the cave itself looked very unnatural. The walls were uncharacteristically smooth, dark grey with cuts of white quartz sparkling in the light. At some point further within, the Artist’s flashlight illuminated a wall at the back of the cave with two directions splitting off. On the wall were cuts in the stone, barely visible. Two arrows pointing either direction. One, the one on the right, had a slash through it.

“I’ve been here,” the Thief repeated, pointing toward the cave. “I made those cuts.”

The Bard was besides him, holding his shoulder with one arm. It must be grounding in some way, because the Thief was still shaking in his arm.

“When?” the Bard asked.

“In…I’d have nightmares. I thought they were nightmares. Of a maze. Sometimes there was a guy telling me to get out. But there was always a maze. And I’d solve it, and it’d change,” the Thief explained. “That…I thought they were dreams, but it must have been the Director.”

“It’s beyond weird to have a maze as your foyer,” Virgil grunted. “What’s the point?”

“We didn’t try any other method of getting in. It’s possible other entrances are laden with traps and the only way to truly enter is the maze,” Logan suggested, gesturing toward the maze. “I assume there’s no light inside?”

The Thief shook his head. “No. I sleep with a short sword, that’s how I made the marks, but…well, sometimes there are torches. But…”

Now, he tilts his head, rubs his forehead.

None of them had slept. The Dragon, Bard, and Artist had searched through the night. The Damsel had been thinking. Virgil and the Thief had been looking for the Child, and Logan, Janus, and Patton had waited for them at the Tree. Suffice to say they were all tired.

And the sun was just breaking. Logan could see the sky changing color, a bright glow coming from the east. After they settled here, they should regroup and rest.

“I met him. He’d come and taunt me,” the Thief explained with a sigh. “But it also…felt like he was afraid of me. Even though like, he was the one bringing me here, making me run this circuit. I don’t know.”

The Bard squeezed him tighter and the Thief gently patted his arm. He leaned his head against the Bard’s shoulder with a slow exhale. To the Thief’s other side was Virgil, who was staring into the lit cavern, eyes trailing over the rock.

It was manipulative. Felt pretty stereotypically evil to have a rock maze, but Virgil had learned that no one here was really a stereotype.

“Did he ever introduce himself?” he asked.

Maybe it wasn’t just the Director they were going toward.

The Thief nodded. “Yeah, but not by the Director. He said his name was Macbeth.”

“Maybe that’s his name,” Patton suggested.

“He said he was one of us, but I…I always thought it was a dream. So I didn’t take it seriously.” The Thief gestured forward. “Macbeth would make me find my way out. Maybe he was dropping me in the center.”

“It would be very-very opportune of him to have dropped you at h-at his own house,” the Damsel warned. “And this is a labry-lab-la…labyrinth. I imagine there are traps inside.”

The Thief snorted. “Crazy shit, if that’s his security system. Why me?”

To that, the Damsel just shrugged. Hard to know for sure without knowing more about him, but if the Director is that paranoid…hm.

Logan did enjoy puzzles and mazes were no exception, but this was more dire than he could normally stomach. There was one more option, though if this…Director were making sure every counter was accounted for, then it might not work. But it was worth a try nonetheless.

“Before we truly enter,” Logan interrupted, holding a hand out as the Damsel tried to enter the maze. “David?”

The Artist had been staring into the darkness of the entrance, face set in a slight scowl. Otherwise blank. For such an animated man, the lack of reaction was harrowing at best.

“Yeah?” he sounded tired.

“Is there any way for you to manipulate the maze?”

Patton gasped. “Oh! Yes!”

The Thief perked up, too, and all eyes quickly turned to the Artist. Who just sighed.

His disappointment was obvious in his tone, waving his hand, fingers tense. “I’ve been trying. Since we got to the platform, realized it was a maze. But none of the changes are sticking. It’s…”

Now he rubbed the back of his neck, tugging a little at the fabric of his hoodie. “It feels like there’s someone else resetting all the changes. I think this guy can manipulate the environment.”

Inopportune and unideal.

“That makes sense,” the Bard murmured. “I don’t imagine he carved out a whole maze by hand. This’ gonna be a whole heck of a rabbit hole.”

“Well!” The Artist snapped and waved both his hands, as if to cut off any other conversation, then pointed back into the cave. “This’ the only thing we’ve got. And if this dude’s crazy enough to have kidnapped Roman, Marl’, and Gavin, and he makes a habit of kidnapping Eric of any of us, then we really have to get in there. None of us are happy with Janus and I don’t think this Director Macbeth guy’s gonna be any nicer to him.”

His outburst quieted the Bard, though the Thief and Virgil both glared at him for it. Patton held Virgil’s arm in surprise as well. Logan simply crossed his arms; displays of aggression like this weren’t going to phase him. The Damsel’s lips were pursed but the Dragon’s tail wrapped around his hand with a tight squeeze. He looked back, to make sure the Sides were accompanying them before motioning forward.

“Well, Eric. You seem to know this place the most. Lead the way,” the Damsel suggested.

And the Thief did, starting into the maze slowly. It was much easier to navigate with flashlights and especially easier since the Thief had already navigated it a few times. Some of his markings were gone, and he used his sword to carve in more arrows, cross out paths that were deadends or led in circles. Logan suggested the lack of markings meant the paths had been changed in those locations, because there were still some turns where arrows and “X”s were present.

It was a circle, Logan noticed. He was keeping a mental map of the maze and path that they’d been taking, holding Patton with one arm (Patton was clinging to his arm like no other, shying away from the dark) while the other kept up a flashlight. At some point, he took out the Playwright’s blank notebook and began writing what he thought the maze was, based on the routes they were taking.

They had been wandering for about five minutes when they triggered their first trap. The hall looked the same as the others, but the Dragon’s wing scraped against both sides of the wall as they walked. One side pushed inward with his wing — he recoiled them back but it was too late, and dozens of openings opened on both walls.

“Darts!” the Damsel called out, hand slamming against Logan’s back to shove him down.

Logan pulled Patton down, and the Thief grabbed the Bard and Virgil, pulling both down. He threw his cloak over both of them as well and, as the darts hit, they just bounced off. Whatever the cloak was made of, it was puncture proof.

In front of them, the Dragon grabbed the Damsel, but the Damsel drew his sword and swiped at some of the darts coming toward them. Somehow, he cut a flurry in half. The pieces bounced off Logan’s back and rolled down. One went through the edge of the Dragon’s wing and he growled in pain, but the Damsel had prevented any from hitting his body.

“Well,” Virgil said, poking his head out.

No more darts were flying at least. It must be the end of the trap.

The Damsel re-sheathed his sword, the solid coating returning as he leaned against it as his cane again. He turned to the Dragon and motioned to see his wing; as the Dragon opened it, more careful now of the walls, they could see trickles of blood from a small hole.

“It isn’t that bad,” the Dragon mumbled, but the Bard cut him off with a small scoff.

“Don’t even worry, Dragon Tale, I’ve got you,” the Bard promised, taking out his ukulele as he did.

He strummed once, twice, just getting a feel for the tuning, before he began humming a small melody. And once he did, the Damsel nodded forward. “Let’s keep going, while the Bard works.”

The Bard’s song echoed around the stony corridor as the group marched onward, the Thief leading the way with his flashlight and sword raised. There were some walls with tick marks, arrows cut into the stone. Each one reminded him of having run the gambit around this place in his pajamas.

It had felt like a vivid nightmare, but he was prone to those. Roman himself didn’t produce many nightmares, and those he did make sure as fuck didn’t come from the Artist or Playwright. The Thief was worried that it was abnormal to be making nightmares, but it was never something he actually made. More like something he experienced. He usually chocked it up to living near Remus’ side.

Remus himself was fine. He actually hadn’t followed into the maze with them, electing to stay on the surface with the Dragon Witch. It was nice to have back-up like that. The concept of what Remus represented put the Thief on edge, though. He was glad Remus wasn’t here because he knew Remus could instigate with Roman sometimes, when Roman wasn’t feeling too good. And this whole situation reeked of Roman feeling not great.

They didn’t spring another trap, though the Thief found a few. A trip wire that he shone his light on and warned everyone about. A crack in the ground that looked like it would open up beneath them, if too much weight was on it. They crossed that one at a time, until the next seam in the floor.

It was maybe twenty minutes of walking before things changed. And that thing was the humming.

The Bard heard it first. He stopped walking, shushing the Thief as he began to ask what was wrong.

“Stop,” he whispered, and everyone did.

Everyone was quiet for a beat. Then, Virgil heard it. And Logan.

“Someone’s singing?” Patton asked, frowning at the Bard as he nodded forward again.

“I think it’s coming from the left?” the Bard suggested.

The Thief shone his light toward the fork in the maze, looking down the left path. There wasn’t any arrow so it must be a new addition. And they didn’t have much else to go on.

“I agree. It’s definitely coming from the left,” Logan murmured.

He had his eyes closed, focusing on the sound. It was familiar. But was it Roman? Or some other sound? Was it the Playwright?

The Thief led them left, the Bard close behind him, peeking around the walls, just in case. And the humming got louder and louder. Until it stopped abruptly near another fork in the road.

Inopportune. They were vehemently against splitting up, that felt like it’d fuck them up horrendously. Logan had suggested they not at the beginning, when Patton and the Artist wanted to take separate routes on a fork. It would be best that they face the unknown as a unit in this situation. If they found the Child, for example, the Thief would want to be there. They would all want to be there if they found Janus or Roman.

“Thief? Eric?”

The Thief whipped around toward the right-hand of the fork, shining his flashlight. His eyes were wide in surprise.

Janus was sitting on the ground, legs crossed. He was missing his hat, cape, and gloves — ah, the gloves were just on the ground beside him — slowly, he stood up. Between him and the group was a set of metal bars, like a cage. Like this part of the maze had been caged off just for him, because it had been.

“Janus?” Patton hurried forward, past the Thief.

He put his hands on two of the bars, pressing his face against one. Virgil hurried beside him, inspecting Janus with his flashlight.

“Are you hurt?” Virgil asked. “Did he hurt you?”

Janus shook his head. His eyes were wide in surprise and fear. Something must have happened.

“No. No, he didn’t—he has a gun. And I don’t know how to get out, I-he dropped me from the ceiling. It’s the Director,” Janus scooted closer, gripping one of the bars with his hand. “He has everyone here.”

“Did you see them? Did you see Roman?” Virgil asked, and Janus shook his head again.

“No, the Director-He got rid of me as soon as he could.”

The Thief whistled, and the Damsel elbowed him in the side.

“Par for the course. You don’t have a lot of fans this side of the Imagination,” the Artist mumbled, looking around at the bars. “I think-Eric, how much farther do you think we’ve gotta go?”

“I don’t know. We’re right near the middle, I think.” The Thief glanced at the wall inside the cage, then frowned. “Hang on. That mark on the wall…”

Janus looked backward at a deep, single divot in the wall beside him. Patton and Logan turned too, while the Thief pointed at it.

“That’s the end. I did that one, he’d been standing there and I went with my sword,” the Thief explained.

“You’ve been here before?” Janus asked, for clarity, but Logan waved his hand before more exposition could be given.

“That’s a very long story, and if this is the end of the maze — David,” he straightened up when Logan called his name. “Do you think you can you get rid of the bars?”

The Artist grimaced, but with a wave of his hand, the bars sank back into the ground. They must not be as permanent as the rest of the maze. But still…it might be alerting him. With that barrier gone, Patton leaned in and scooped Janus into a hug. They both shimmied out, closer into the group, as the Bard and Damsel peeked in the other direction.

For the first time in a long time, Janus returned the hug, hands gripping the back of his jacket. Getting shot wasn’t high on his list of things he’d wanted to experience and he had a brush with it today, having a gun pointed at him and all. It was easy to shelve the fear in the moment, lying through his teeth about not being afraid, but now that he was here, now that he wasn’t going to die, he was with everyone else…

Virgil also put a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing him as Logan continued to direct. He leaned to look at Janus’ face, only to find his eyes closed tight. A few of his scales near his eye were…his eye was swollen. That entire side of his face was swollen, like someone had hit him. Hard.

His stomach tightened in anger, pure fury. Of course Janus lied about it.

The bars rose back up like a claw only a few moments after Janus vacated. Whoever this Director was, he seemed to have control of the environments here, and the Artist scoffed angrily when it moved.

“Are you going to be able to take down the wall?” Logan asked, gesturing to the wall before them, right outside the bars.

“I should, but I don’t know how deep in it goes. I don’t know what’s like, around here or anything, that’s stuff Marl’ would know,” the Artist explained. “But like, we could demo it. I can make a bomb. If we do something that actively breaks it rather than just…”

“A bomb might cause a cave in. Could you make a mallet? Something to break down the rock.”

There was a soft popping noise. Janus had come to recognize that was the sound of creation.

Interestingly, the Director hadn’t made anything, not from what Janus could see. He’d changed the terrain. Janus had slammed his head into part of the stone tube while sliding into his rocky cell and he was developing a headache. He’d also landed hard on one of his arms, he didn’t know how mobile his wrist was. Last time, when he got out unscathed, was seeming like a fluke.

A part of him had hoped that he’d get to talk to Roman, even fleetingly.

Apologize without anyone else there. Where they could talk. It was becoming very obvious that no part of Roman wanted to talk with him, though. Maybe he’d burned the bridge too far. Too much ash.

“Draco, you’ve got a meaner swing. Think you can take it down?”

A barking laugh. “I’d fuckin’ love to. Give it here.”

Virgil’s hand tugged backward and Janus opened his eye again. His other eye was swollen too much to be very useful. It might be smart to ask the Bard for merciful help but he couldn’t stomach it right now. “Get out of the way,” Virgil murmured. “Over here.”

Janus stumbled after him, held up by Patton’s tight, surprisingly strong arms. He felt a little ragdoll-esque.

Logan had taken command and it was surprising, just how much everyone listened to him. It was validating, in a way, and worrying. Roman listened to him, despite everything. That must be what got them in this mess, at a deeper level, but it meant he could be given an explanation. He could take space to explain and maybe that might help. Roman could maybe hear it from him.

For the time being, Logan just stepped toward the mark in the wall, denoting the end. “I think we should start directly on the mark,” he said, gesturing to it. “David, can you bring the bars down again, please?”

The Artist hummed, waving his hand again. The bars sank down.

“I can probably hold them down while we do this, but he might notice we’re holding them,” he suggested, and Logan nodded.

“That shouldn’t matter too much after Draco knocks the wall down,” he explained.

The Artist and the Dragon followed, with the Thief nearby. The Damsel was the one leaning closest to the other Sides while the Bard idly plucked one of the strings of his ukulele, watching cautiously. If anything were to go wrong, he could block with a shield, maybe. Janus didn’t look in any real condition for a fight and none of them wanted the Sides in an altercation.

“Why on the mark?” the Thief asked. “It’s just where I swung.”

Logan was happy to explain. “If Janus did indeed go straight into the Director’s room, then it stands to reason that the Director would spit him out besides his room. If he can change the terrain, he would just have to morph the wall into a door.”

He leaned over, knocking on the wall, and pursed his lips. If he was wrong, they might indeed need dynamite, but for right now…

“If this is where the end of the maze is and where he chose to house Janus, it may be the closest point to his actual house. He likely has another hidden front door that he hides using his terrain-adjusting abilities, but it would be easier to adjust as little terrain as possible, to conserve energy, act fast and make maintaining all of this space more efficient,” Logan rubbed his jaw as he spoke, finishing with a shrug. “That’s my hypothesis right now. If I’m wrong, then we may need dynamite, but we should start with the mallet first.”

The Dragon grinned, a little wild and angry, and he lifted the hammer with both hands. “If you say so, Logan. Y’ might wanna take a step back.”

Ah, right. The Artist and Logan both took a few steps back, Logan putting an arm out in front of the Thief. They all kept backing up as the Dragon wound up, one hand near the middle of the hammer, the other choking up the handle.

He squared his stance and reeled back.

As he swung, he beat his wings, too, to increase momentum. And the hammer pushed straight through the wall.

There was a scream from the other side of it.

A very familiar scream.

And then the Artist screamed, too, rushing toward the new hole.

“MARLOWE?!”

#hehehe....#chivalry is dead #guess who's not dead yet