|| The Harbinger's Guest ||

|| Part 4 ||

Aether woke up, nestled in between the sheets. He batted his eyes open, and his heart jumped when he took in his surroundings. He forgot that this was his new room. It was empty. Scaramouche was nowhere to be seen, and the fireplace was put out. The atmosphere was cold and icy, as a stream of colourless light pierced through the window on his left. The sun was trapped behind the clouds, as it must usually be in Snezhnaya. Aether sat up, running a hand through his braid. His memory of last night was a blur.

He sat up, stepping out of the bed. As soon as he did, he felt himself begin to shiver. He looked around, looking up at the false stars. When they were lit by that warm, orange glow, they were a thousand times brighter, and a million times more beautiful. Aether walked over to the fireplace, and searched for a match to light the charred wood beneath. He didn't have much of a choice but to use them. He found a small box of matches and expertly lit up another fire, blowing into the flames and watching it grow. He sat huddled nearby it, collecting the warmth, making sure to keep his hair far away from it.

After soaking in the warmth, he stood up and placed the matches back on the top of the fireplace. His eyes wandered straight to the box. Scaramouche's box. He looked around again, knowing that the room was completely empty. If he just had one peek, how would he ever know? After last night, though, he was conflicted with going against his one rule.

It's not like he wouldn't deserve it if Aether did check the box...

Oh, why not?

Aether looked around once more, and reached up to open the box.

Locked.

Of course it wasn't that easy.

He looked around, narrowing his eyes. His elemental sight still remained, and the chances of the key carrying electro energy were... slim, but if they were in here, and not with Scaramouche somehow, there was a chance he could find them. He looked at the box, and the smallest traces of electro were around it. He looked around, and found some more near the chair.

He approached it, looking carefully. He checked underneath it first and found nothing, as expected. Then, he checked in between the cushion and the arm. Left side, nothing. Right side...

A small, golden, rusted key sat at the very bottom, without any trace of electro on it. His elemental sight hadn't really helped him at all, but at least he found the key. He looked back at the box, key in hand, and considered the action once again.

Where is Scaramouche anyway? Aether wondered. How soon will he be back?

He walked back up to the fireplace and inserted the key into the small keyhole in the box. He twisted it, and felt the latch inside release. He paused, thinking about it one more time.

If I'm going to do it, I'll need to do it now, he thought.

He lifted up the lid of the box, and looked at the object inside. His heart sank. It was... a small doll. It was new, resembling its owner with its hair and white clothes. A single tear fell from its eye. Aether knew what it was for. Why it was here. Why it was special. He started to feel sick. No, he shouldn't have done this—

He felt a hand suddenly grasp his wrist, tightly and forcefully. He hadn't even heard anyone walk up to him. Aether knew who it was before he turned his head to them, his eyes wide.

"Keep your hands away." Scaramouche snarled, his words laced with pure anger. "What did I tell you?!"

Scaramouche pulled him away, his nails digging hard into Aether's skin. Aether stood perplexed, unable to say anything. All he could do was stare at him, his eyes wide... not with fear. Scaramouche didn't know what to say either. His hand shook as he gripped Aether, his eyes lit by his complete and utter rage. You could see the thoughts running through his eyes. They were all one word.