𝕻𝖔𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖘 - (Wilbur)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟖

The next morning, Inka woke up before Mercury, and thankfully took that time to roll out of his dormant embrace and change back into her robes. It was early, she hadn't gotten much sleep but she knew she'd sleep on the way back. The Sun looked wonderful from where she was, giving the world a famously pink tint to represent the coming morning. Mercury was still blacked out and with not much else to do, Inka basked in the sunlight for her usual nutrients. It was warming and she enjoyed the shades it gave her skin, the way the hair on her arms glistened in the light and she warmed to the rays.

After some time, an arbitrary amount, Mercury yawned and sat up, looking around before his eyes landed on Inka. She was hugging a pillow and daydreaming as he stared at her, and he pinched his nose, smelling the alcohol and cringing.

Without much said, Inka heard him rush off to the bathroom to bathe. She had done the same during her period of absorbing light, but kept it quick by just running cold water and rubbing herself lightly. She waited for him to leave before she looked at him, he was staring at her awkwardly from where he stood - a loose tunic above some tan pants and his shoes, waiting by the door before he slipped them on. They didn't say anything but he did tilt his head, asking her a silent question she shook her head at. To which he sighed and ate something before they both made their way down to the lobby - packing up silently since it felt too early for a heartfelt conversation on a topic of whatever it would be.

Going down and making it to the lobby in a single damp piece, the pair left their room and Mercury checked out while Inka looked around for the last time. She yawned and rubbed her arm, pulling off the jewellery she had forgotten to take off when changing while Mercury went ahead to the carriage. As they sat down, he offered her a bag and yawned himself, both woke up early. It was a simple process where Inka put her jewellery in the bag leaning against Mercury, falling asleep as the scenery changed.

But it never was that simple, she opened her eyes and found herself on her chequered knife; the ballroom floor. She was once again standing with Mortality and still, Logic was nowhere. It was strange for Inka to personify such broad ideas such as being logical and her risk of death. The two came hand-in-hand but also seemed to hate each other. After all, it was only logical to avoid mortality. So Inka wasn't surprised when she didn't see them get along in her thoughts; but she'd never seen one or the other vanish.

Mortality stood smiling at her, he beamed as he often did, offering Inka his hand to a waltz. If she said yes, she knew she'd end up dying. She was fully aware that dancing with him meant eventually falling over the edge for death to swallow. But for how long she'd be stuck in that dance, it wasn't within her best interests to find out.

If Inka danced with her logic, things would have been more linear: simply dance for a fixed time and fall off the edge with her. No teasing by the edge or pulling away. Just dancing and falling into an abyss where there was no room for a heart or emotions, there was only room for what the brain had to offer. Inka still didn't want to dance with Logic. If she did, then was she truly living? She wouldn't feel the joy or the fear of anything, she would only calculate the best way out or the next thing to face. That wasn't living, she'd simply be existing to survive a dull, bland life. There would be no more discovery.

"Where is she?" Inka looked around for the woman who was red, wearing her blue dress and her white gloves, "nowhere?" She questioned more for herself than for Mortality to respond. Though Inka wasn't hoping for much, they hadn't spoken since Inka hadn't thought of voices for them.

"We waltzed, I won." He responded, startling Inka violently. So much that she woke up in the carriage, still travelling. Mercury had his head rested on hers as he slept also. The voice that man had was... strange. It felt old and calm but young and temperamental. Melodic but also scratchy with years of knowledge stored within. He had a certain condescending attitude when he spoke and rightfully so, a voice so terrifyingly wonderful that it woke Inka up. She was a heavy sleeper. She needed to know more. Of course she knew what it meant when he said "I won". Logic had fallen but then, what happened? She needed to know more. More on where to go from there and how to combat the issues that will come with losing her vision of logic. Another thing that worried her was that those were just images she made up for the two biggest conflicts of her life; they didn't need to grow sentient. And still, they sounded like it did.