Mason doesn't make it far. Didn't even make it to the stairs. Shoulder against a beam, he leans just far enough out of the shadows of the second-floor landing to watch his guild mates enjoy their evening. Long fingers trace a crack by his hip, eyes far away.
She isn't sure where to go, so she carefully approaches. When he doesn't object to her presence, she leans her covered elbows against the railing and watches the party. The music ebbs and swells, battering the inside of her skull like the ocean against the cliffs outside. If she breathes and focuses, listens inside and out, she can match their pulses into one pummelling force inside her body.
None of those revellers realise what occurred upstairs. To them no destruction gathers its strength on the horizon. It doesn't exist. Doubt worms its way into her own heart. Were Iichi and Darain right? Was she looking too deeply into this, ready to ruin Firefly's one chance at fixing their status in Cartasia? All because finally getting something right felt so good? How could being wanted turn her into such a selfish, short-sighted creature? Who does she think she is? Their celebrity, and about as useful as one. When have her reveries ever been reliable? When have they ever helped her in her life?
Corama's stricken face swims through the miasma of partiers. A ghost of her own creation haunts the festivities, absentmindedly fiddling with the bangles on his arms. She remembers back to the last celebration he attended. Remembers his troubled expression on that stage, the same anxious fiddling. Remembers the Overseers willingness to let the disgrace of Cartasia participate in the bid.
She should have recognised the signs with how often her own anxieties translate through her fingers.
Scraping the bottom of the barrel.
"I don't care about the responsibility." When she looks over her shoulder, Mason's eyes are still on the party, but his fingers dig harder into the crack. Seeking the jagged edges. "This cities people haven't done anything for the guild for a long time. Longer than I've been part of it. Maybe that's petty, but I couldn't give a shit. We've got this job to protect the shitty people of this city, and we'll get it done. But while we're busy protecting the people, who's keeping them safe?"
Belrain shot guns an entire barrel of ale to the cheers from the crowd. He slams the empty keg down, roaring in celebration as he whips his flour and icing smudged apron off and spins it above his head. Behind the bar, Tabitha rolls her eyes at her brother as she serves Joy a tall glass of something red. Kody's doodling a unibrow and moustache onto his unconscious brother's face, egged on by the elderly Keat's as they shift their faces to match the soon to be complete artwork. Frazer's undefeated keg lies abandoned and foaming until Belrain scoops it up and finishes it for him.
Could she be right about this? If ever such an unthinkable notion could happen, the destruction of a continent is a terrible time for her to finally get something right.
"I don't care what Iichi can live with, but I can't leave their safety up to the hope that you're wrong."
It's the safest odd to play, but she knew he wouldn't bet on it. "What are you going to do?"
His fingers dig against the crack. When they move, a smudge of blood is left behind. He doesn't notice. "You're not going to help?"
Cold panic grips her chest. "We don't know what we're doing."
Mason stands away from the wall, looking down at her. "That's never stopped me before. And you're the ideas girl."
"I don't have good ideas."
He frowns. "What? That's not true. We have the contract because of your ideas."
"Those going wrong weren't going to cost thousands of lives," Marley gasps out in a rush. She can't breathe, and the heavy weight of Mason's eyes press harder on her chest.
"You're afraid of being wrong? Being wrong is the best-case scenario." He takes a step closer when she doesn't answer. Stops when she raises a hand between attempts to slow her breathing down.
Touching can't happen, but being seen by those beautiful dark eyes feels like clammy fingers on her skin. She can't take it. Put her back in her quiet corners. Her mind can't sort through every possible way this could go wrong fast enough. There are too many outcomes. And when she tries, everything falls into a blank, dark corridor opening up around her. Familiar might be lonely, but inside her dark corridor the only existence she can ruin is her own.
Except Mason's voice, penetrating the sanctuary her mind builds around her to thunder off its walls. "You haven't done anything wrong, Marley."
She stumbles towards the stairs. Clings to the banister with covered hands. She can't trust herself to get down them without falling. She'll take the concussion over being in the noisy, cramped hall a second longer. Mason must recognise the fight or flight obliterating her sense of self-preservation because he halts at the top of the stairs. Voice lost to the din for everyone's ears but Marley's, he calls after her,
"The only thing worse than failing to stop this is being too afraid to try."
Cool air chills the sweat at her temples. Her body, ever a traitorous construct, never tells her what's going on until the last second. Never hungry until she's starving. Never realises she needs to pee before she's bursting. Now, her hands shake as she speed walks away from the guild hall, vision spotty as panic continues to build inside her.
Of course they didn't believe her now, when she's the truth. Everyone believed her when she lied and said she was fine for all those years, when she hadn't wanted anything. But now that she's told the truth, she was unbelievable because it wasn't the story they wanted. Marley isn't something worth celebrating. She's just a stupid, useless girl who should have compromised and given up and stayed on the tracks laid down by her parents. Marley shouldn't have thought she saw something in Mason like her. She shouldn't have looked for something that wasn't there. She shouldn't have laughed with him, gone to Dearynn with him. She shouldn't have spoken back to her family.
She shouldn't have wanted.
As she moves through the streets of Cartasia, another Marley huddles in a corridor of her mind. It's long and empty in there, with only one light at the end. She moves away from it. Light's too bright, and the laughter of the silhouetted shapes basking in it is too loud. It stretches all the way back to the guild hall, growing the longer and darker the further she goes. More distance quietens the laughter, but she doesn't move completely out of its reach.
No one likes complete silence, not really. Not even Marley in her dark corridor, where she can't say the wrong thing to stop the laughter. Listening is just as good. Pretending to be a part of it is what she's used to. You can't ruin anything from so far away.
She'll have to leave this corridor behind. Coming to Dearynn was a mistake. She doesn't belong here. Her place, as it always was, is on the fringes. Not bathed in the light itself. When she gets too close, she only darkens.
J.J. always said if something was her idea, if she thought of it, it would be doomed to end in failure. Now she's spreading.
Classic Marley.
"Miss Chaser!"
The warm pie crust voice drips poison as Mercer approaches. No one is around to watch, yet his smile is warm. It tricked her once. Easy to do when the holder believes every spiteful word they spit.
"Kardinal." What could he possibly have to say to her? Why does he have to say it now when she's so tired?
"Congratulations are in order. Firefly really exceeded all expectations today."
"Exceeded or defied?"
Mercer's smile tightens at the corners. "Victory hasn't softened those blunt edges, I see."
Where he saw a challenge in her question, she has no idea. Mercer only predicted failure for the Fireflies. Not sure that counts as an expectation at all. Apparently, clarification is too much to ask a servant of faith. "I think an edge will be necessary when we face the coming Calamity."
Her careful response brings that cold satisfaction back into his smile. Must have done something right, at least. Better to let this man be at ease for as long as she's forced to suffer his presence then those hidden fangs come out ready to strike.
"Yes. Securing the bid was impressive. But to follow through, now that may be where Firefly's true metal is tested."
God she's so tired. "You sound like you have some advice to share."
"Advice? No. Experience, on the other hand." Vindication gleams in his eyes. "As a veteran of all the Calamities, amongst other hardships this city has faced, I have very few memories of when Firefly contributed positively to the wellbeing of the people."
Something about the way he says that makes her skin prickle. "Kardinal, why do Firefly have such a bad reputation?"
His hands fold atop each other like a smug teacher who's student finally asked the right question. "I'm afraid it is not my place to speak for your chosen companions. I suggest you ask them. But if they're less than forthcoming, you could always check the city records."
Defender of Firefly to the end, Mason would march headlong into the Calamity by himself after a goad like that. Take it on his chin and grin with chipped teeth so the other Fireflies can keep on smiling. Always watching. Keeping the shadows at bay while he makes them his home.
"If there's anything in those records, Firefly can show me themselves," Marley answers and, finished exhausting herself for the sake of a man's ego, turns away before the kardinal can push the issue.
The city has more pressing concerns than wounded pride.
Keir's Park is quiet this evening except for the rhythmic pulsing of the party happening at the city's most western point. The balmy summer breeze tickles the leaves under the bowing tree. It reminds Marley of a hotel concierge welcoming guests after long days of travel, and she's started calling it Prindl tree in her mind. Whether she's entering or departing Dearynn, alone, she's gotten into the habit of bowing to him in return.
Her final bow with Prindl will have to wait. Her tree is preoccupied with the young girl sitting at his roots, looking out into the park like she's waiting for something. When she spots Marley, she springs to her feet.
"Sorry!" she exclaims when Marley jars to a halt. "Sorry, I'm sorry. I'm waiting for the Earthland Conduix. Thi-this is her tree. No, not her tree, that's dumb, the stych to her home is here. I know it's weird, knowing that, and waiting for her in the dark in a park at night, but I've wanted to join the Fireflies since I was a little girl, and she's going to still make that possible. I'm sorry, you don't care about this."
"Actually, you'd be surprised." A week of dodging star seekers and eager would-be fans has apparently taught her nothing. "I'm Marley Chaser."
"I-it's really you!" Mortification eclipses her enthusiasm when Marley stumbles back. "Sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Oh, jeez. Come on, Cerra, you practiced this and now you're messing it up. Okay, rewind. If only that were possible, right? Haha, of jeez, get it together. Umm, I heard this is where your stych back to Earthland is and I was- I heard about Fireflies victory today. It's been my dream to join them for so long and because of you I still have that chance. I just wanted to find you and thank you, and this is your stych, and I'm just so grateful. Because Firefly are the best guild in Cartasia and-"
She's doubling back on herself. If Marley doesn't stop her she'll keep going and going and going. "You're joining the guild?"
Cerra's babbling dissolves into an embarrassed giggle. "If they'll have me. I just have to get myself sorted first. But it will be worth it."
"Can I ask why?" Mercer's smug suggestion to check the records echoes in Marley's mind. Shame twists her guts at the thought of them finding the kardinal got to her, but if she doesn't asks why it will bother her forever. If she were sticking around, she'd ask what they did, but for some reason asking anyone other than them feels... dishonest. So, she asks Cerra, "Their reputation's been so bad for so long, why are they your first choice?"
Cerra, completely oblivious to Marley's turmoil, is ecstatic to talk about her favourite guild. "Because Firefly accept conduix for all they are, not just their working parts. Before their reputation tanked, they wouldn't even accept investments from businesses without checking out their histories first. They don't have to worry so much about that now." A new fire lights in Cerra's eyes. "Private guilds like Sky King only care about their sponsorships and backings. Kardinal Mercer loves them, big shock. I don't want to be a part of that. Firefly care about giving conduix like us a place to go."
Cerra's waifish appearance reminds Marley of a ghost haunting a weeping, rainy moor, her straw hair floating ethereally with each excited shiver and shake. Her self-conscious excitement reminds Marley of herself. Before the hooks of conformity clawed the enthusiasm from her soul. The idea this girl could feel self-conscious for liking something fills Marley with a sudden protective ache. Similar to a burn she hasn't let herself feel for a long time.
It might be hypocritical, maybe downright evil, but Marley can't face a thousand failed attempts to stop the coming storm for herself, not when herself was something she was never taught had value. And something as abstract as the good of humanity, void of specific actions to take or outcomes to achieve, is a concept too massive for her to comprehend – like fighting the good fight of global warming just to feel like a better person while the world dies. She doesn't have the energy.
But letting the world force this one girl to stop being who she is for even one second just to fit the city's mould is a crime too egregious to allow.
If anyone could take this underdeveloped conduix, this girl who just wants to be a part of something and turn her into the best conduix this city will ever have the pleasure of protecting them from future Calamities, it would be Firefly.
"You said your name was Cerra?" Cerra nods so rapidly her light hair floats like a halo around her head. "I look forward to your official introduction. Be sure to tell me when it is so I can make sure I'm in Dearynn."
Cerra floats away, babbling excitedly to herself. Marley watches her until she's out of the park. When she's out of sight, Marley looks up at Prindl. He awaits her departure with an outstretched branch.
It's not bravery Mason makes Marley feel. Not entirely. It's close but thinking like that wasn't enough to get her to defy Darain. Mason reminds her courage comes from caring. Just one person caring can make that courage spread.
Marley stretches her own arm out, bowing theatrically in return. For the first time in a long, long time, she doesn't force down the self-deprecating giggle as she turns back around and leaves the park.