Selbright was sizable. That much was a given. He hadn't made the mistake of thinking otherwise, although raising his guard against a city shockingly large didn't make navigation any easier. Leaving the inn was bad enough. Traversing Selbright itself was a trial. The concept of exceeding its boundaries was horrifying, and the idea of escaping Mezzoria was a nightmare. The latter was counterproductive, anyway. Lucian would've killed him.

To his immense relief, breaching the borders of the continent was unnecessary. Mixoly had said as much, and Theo had breathed one singular sigh of relief over it. It was the closest he got to narrowing down his radius of inspection, for how the remainder of Mezzoria was still of prime suspicion. For the life of him, he couldn't name a single city outside of Selbright.

The odds of the Ambassador residing within his general proximity, at this point, were close to none. He'd scoured what he could with hesitant steps and endless stress. Some of it was solely by proxy of a world far too large. Some was secondary to the enormity of the task. A fair amount still faulted his ruined sight.

He'd mostly grown used to it. It didn't quite alleviate the aggravation that came with a hazy veil upon a colorful world. On more nights than one, Theo had sent his prayers high amongst the stars where Lucian could grab hold. It was the only place he could think to share his burdens, by which another would know his suffering. If Mixoly had anything to say about it, it was supposed to be worse. He didn't feel particularly lucky.

The cover of night was simultaneously a blessing and a curse, for how it blanketed his eyes and eased his pain. There was peace to be found in darkness, violet absorbed by that which blotted out the world naturally. He strongly considered banishing the sun forever, should it be within his power. Curtains stayed shut. Candles stayed silent. Lights stayed rejected. His alone was an exception, ironic as it was.

Do you feel anything?

I hear nothing.

Theo sighed. I don't know where else to go.

My child, it is…likely that the Ambassador is not in this place.

It wasn't an appealing idea, given what leaving would entail. How far can you call for them?

Not as far as I would like.

And you're sure they'd hear?

Just as you had heard my voice that night.

Theo gripped the little piccolo tightly, struggling to ignore the creeping chill in his blood. Every step through steeping shadow should've been more intimidating. He had what he needed, should it come to that. That was a comfort, and he was confident enough with it. He'd seen enough of the negatives, by which the city wasn't as pristine as Lucian had once presented it. If he had to kill anyone, it would be in self-defense alone. It wouldn't be hard.

His eyes flickered between the darkened road and her vessel as he walked, caged in his grasp. He still hadn't completely decided how to refer to her, of the two options he was given. She'd differentiated. Anything with the word "agony" in it was unsettling. Still, it was Mixoly's choice. It wasn't his place to judge.

Do you have any ideas?

Theo, I say to you once more, I truly do not believe the Ambassador to be in this place.

What were you even doing here to begin with? he tried. When Lucian found you.

I sought a heart that would set me free.

It wasn't exactly what he meant. He knew better than to press her on vague answers, at this point. It was a useless battle. But it was here. That means something, right?

Mixoly was silent. She was good at that. Theo sighed once more.

Where did he find you? We didn't try that yet.

I know not the way, but it was a barren place. It was he alone who reached for me, devoid of foreign eyes by his side.

That could've been anywhere. It clarified nothing. For once, he pushed. Were there buildings?

There were not.

Or people?

Only him.

Do you remember anything else?

Not of merit. The natural world awaited him.

Dissecting her words was always annoying, cryptic as she was. He'd never admit to it. Instead, Theo stifled a groan and took a guess. Do you mean something nature-ish?

Elaborate.

A field, a forest, trees, stuff like that.

Perhaps.

A "yes" would've been nice. If he found you, it had to be in Selbright.

What would you hope to gain by returning to that place?

Already, Theo was reviewing what mental map he'd concocted of the city. He was near the northern block, probably, if the specific placement of specific houses meant anything. At no point had he followed any road all the way down. If one terminated beyond the borders of Selbright, he would never have known. What lingered outside was incomprehensible. His path was aimless and straight.

I'm retracing your steps, he explained. Maybe if we go where you showed up, we'll find something.

You seek the Ambassador where his heart touched my own, then?

Theo nodded to himself. It was a reflex. We can try.

If that yields nothing, what next will you do?

He hadn't planned that far ahead. He didn't particularly want to, for the chill that once again poisoned his veins. Walking wasn't feasible. The Ambassador absolutely needed to be in Selbright--if not the general vicinity, at the very least. To go near the tracks was a death sentence for his heart instead. They'd salvaged what they could. They hadn't gotten everything. If he looked down and found a missing fragment of his love, Theo might just be tempted to do the same.

The thought left him lightheaded. Vomiting in the middle of the road at ten o'clock at night was a bad idea. It took effort to stem his nausea, and yet more to banish the image. Theo staggered briefly, resting one palm against a flickering streetlight for balance. Swallowing his distress felt miserable. It didn't matter that he'd futilely searched every night since his fingers had first met the instrument. The Ambassador was here. There was no alternative.

Are you alright?

Shaking it off wasn't happening. Still, he could cling to her voice. I'm okay.

Would you…wish that we should--

I can keep going, Theo interrupted within. It's okay.

Mixoly didn't chide him. He appreciated that. There was a part of him that thought to call her to his side, if not for the comfort of companionship alone. Empty streets were hardly a threat even now, and still he held his breath as he trailed the length of the one he'd chosen. Theo had no idea what direction he traversed, nor was he keeping watch over the rising moon. It didn't particularly matter. He could claw his way back to the inn from most starting points in the city, at this point. If his eyes chased the stars, he'd poison them in turn. Drinking in a murky sky was the closest he was going to get to a mental reset. He tried for longer than he should've.

He half-expected Mixoly to change her mind about scolding him, given exactly how long he followed the linear road in abject silence--her flavor of silence, anyway. If the Ambassador was going to be this difficult to track down, it was the least Theo could do to calculate some choice words of reproach once they met. There had come a point where Theo had stopped inquiring as to the nature of Mixoly's needs, specific as they were and every bit as elaborate. He still couldn't quite wrap his head around them.

The Ambassador alone was a mystery. He hadn't processed the sin, born of far more than Lucian's suffering alone. Pitiful as she was, he couldn't see her as anything more than vulnerable. He didn't loathe the idea of staying with her, as much as it had once burned. She was unnatural in more ways than one, regardless. Every time he blinked, he earned a reminder of that much.

Theo couldn't put a name to their relationship. She'd made their bond sound beautiful. They were partners, maybe. It was the closest he could come to a solid label. He hadn't tested the term aloud--or within--largely out of fear of rejection. Either way, it almost sounded nice. He wouldn't have minded the concept.

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How long he'd walked was debatable. The ascending moon did him no favors, and Theo had only distraction to blame. He was most definitely lost, if not more than intentionally. What corner of Selbright his focused steps had carried him to was unknown. It was the cusp of the city's grasp, surely, if the sharp cut-off into sprawling greenery meant anything. Even now, he had absolutely no idea what direction he was facing. "Barren", if Mixoly's phrasing was to be believed, was an understatement.

The sea of lush grass and swaying sprouts that thrived under flooding moonlight was endless. It stretched far too distantly, by which two minutes more of walking would surely leave him drowning in a leafy ocean. The sight was almost disorienting, if not lovely in its own way. How such bountiful nature, pure and untouched, could rest beyond a city so heavily developed was beyond him. His hazy curse touched every rising blade at his feet with toxins undeserved. That, by comparison, he hated.

Is this it? Theo asked, raising the piccolo aloft in the slightest. It wasn't as though the instrument could see. Still, it was almost polite.

I know not the exact place, my child. I have stated that it was your brother whose heart took precedence.

Part of him wanted to yell at her, given that he'd come all this way. Logically, it wasn't her fault. Nothing was, usually. Try calling for the Ambassador from here.

Mixoly was quiet for a moment. I will endeavor, she relented at last.

He could never hear it when she did. Theo gave her the peace she needed, sinking deeper into the grassy sea that threatened to swallow him whole. He couldn't prove he was in the right place. The tiny twinge of hope in his heart that spoke otherwise was his one comfort. If he was correct, then every footstep ran the risk of overlapping with Lucian's of so long ago. That was a second comfort, then. His gaze fell to the sneaking weeds that snagged against his socks, and he left his eyes in the dirt as he walked. Lucian's light was down there, maybe. Lucian had reached for Mixoly's vessel on much the same ground, maybe.

He wasn't going to cry. He wished he could. The numbness that always edged out his tears was a disease, and he hated it. Lucian deserved tears. Lucian deserved much more than Theo could give him from here.

Mixoly deserved his attention. Still, again, it drifted. It wasn't a conscious choice. Theo liked to imagine she understood, given the way she'd once touched the same heart. He sometimes wondered if she grieved. Lucian wasn't the first, apparently. Mixoly had a lot of grieving to do, if that was the case.

She was taking her time. It wasn't his place to interrupt her. He couldn't help it, and the words settled into his heart with curiosity in lieu of impatience. Theo stole the stars with foggy violet to weigh them down. Did you hear anything?

I did not.

Mixoly's words weighed on his heart instead. He thought to press her to try again. If nothing else, he was onto something, surely. The expanse of vast green was eternal, spreading far beyond what his blighted eyes could capture in either direction. He could circle the city from the outside. It would take time, without a doubt. It was better than taking the train. Anything was.

Theo mentally flipped a coin. He never made it all the way left. He never so much as turned to face the city at his back in full. Where sprawling nature was a world for himself and Lucian alone, no longer was the moon his sole interruption.

The boy who still claimed the absolute border of Selbright beneath his feet was motionless. His shoes were firmly settled onto the solid road where Theo's scraped only plush grass. His sudden visage was startling, and Theo stumbled in reverse with a pounding heart to show for it. He clutched the piccolo in an iron grip, involuntary to a degree that his knuckles strained with pure white. Isolated as he'd been, it was his own fault for not paying attention. Where words would fail, born of his hands or otherwise, he went with the easier option first. He liked to imagine whatever glare he could concoct was enough of a deterrent.

His interloper shook his head, waving gloved hands defensively as his lips moved. That was just as useless, no matter how many times Theo had tried to master it. He was going too fast, anyway. In his defense, he hadn't done anything wrong. The correct answer was to leave. His path to civilization was blocked, unfortunately, although he hadn't planned to return yet regardless.

Run.

Theo stiffened, his eyes snapping to the little instrument locked in his death grip. What?

Run!

From?

If he chanced a look, his stranger's eyes had followed the same path. As to what interest the boy had in the same piccolo, Theo didn't want to know. He didn't need to know. He wrote it off as a passing curiosity, versus what alternatives there could've been. Holding onto his glare was becoming difficult. His breath was equally difficult to hold onto.

Theo, please, run! I beg of you!

It was a panic he'd never once heard in her voice. Even now, the boy's gaze was fixed firmly on the little instrument. When Theo stole one experimental step in reverse, his stranger stepped forward. His lips were still moving. His soft eyes were deceptive. The hand he extended was confusing, perhaps just as much as Mixoly's pleas. When he bent forward to Theo's level, their heights imbalanced, the bulky case claiming his back in full made zero sense. He gestured to Mixoly's vessel.

Theo!

That was enough.

Theo gritted his teeth, pivoted sharply on one heel, and stole into the night. If the boy was calling him, there was no way he would've known. He was terrified to check if the stranger had opted to give chase regardless. Moving forward was instinctive, foolish as it was. His desperate dash had forgone left and right in equal measure, let alone any path back to the city. It left him sprinting deeper into swelling green, by which he'd surely trip and drown in the grassy sea.

Not once did his grasp around the piccolo weaken. Moonlight was his one guide, mired by swimming indigo that left him disoriented with every pounding step against the earth. He gasped for air he couldn't find. How long he was supposed to be running was debatable. From what he was supposed to be running was a mystery altogether.

What's going on? Theo pressed, never once slowing his sprint.

You must not go near that boy. Heed my words!

But why?

Where I am at risk, so, too, are you endangered, my child. Seek safety immediately, I implore you!

His heart threatened to burst. What do you mean? Does he want to hurt me?

It is not you!

Scrambling for words within was exceedingly difficult, overwhelmed by fear and confusion as he was. Does he want to hurt you?

Mixoly's words, too, carried equal fear. Theo, that boy possesses that which is--

He didn't get the chance to hear her out. He doubted she would've finished the thought, regardless. He'd made enough distance, ideally, between himself and his supposed assailant-to-be. It meant nothing. He liked to imagine the one behind was the only one of concern. Theo skidded to a halt so sharply that he nearly tripped, dirt kicking up beneath his frantic stop. Where the city had provided a civilized backdrop to a gloved stranger of concern, this one fit in splendidly with the flooding starlight so high above.

His presence was almost as surreal as the leafy ocean itself. He was out of place and a perfect fixture all at once, tranquil and crowned by what moonbeams saw fit to grace him. This deep into an environment of, for all intents and purposes, nothing, Theo would've been open to the idea of anything except company. He wrapped the boy up in the murky violet of his panicked gaze. It was a terrible deterrent, and he earned more soft eyes upon him instead. The moment the boy's own attention drifted to the same piccolo, Theo's blood turned to lead.

Theo, run! Mixoly repeated, every bit as desperate.

Him, too? he asked with terror of his own.

Go!

It wasn't enough. Why do all these people want to hurt you?

Your own are not of concern. It is those to whom they have bonded that would serve to endanger us both! Theo, they must not know I am with you, please!

Again was he left only with tentative steps in reverse. Again were they countered by gentle steps forward, silent words spilling from moving lips. What do they want with you?

That you would aid me, they would strike you down! That I would be free, I know not!

The boy at his front was far from aggressive. That, too, was possibly deceiving. He was pointing to the piccolo, now. There was enough context. They would kill me so that I don't help you?

I cannot say so with certainty, but I would suspect as much!

He didn't look the killing type. To be fair, Mixoly hadn't looked the sinning type. There was something more than lead that warmed Theo's veins.

Mixoly, he began, if I die, will someone else help you?

I know not, my child, but that is irrelevant now! Please, your life is at risk! I beg you to run!

The boy was close. He was far, far closer than was comfortable. His smile, soft and delicate, was far from reassuring. His hand, extended peacefully, was far from mediating. His eyes, tranquil and inviting, were far from safe. Adrift in a rippling sea, running would've been impossible, regardless.

Lucian would've done it. Theo needed no more motivation than that. The burn that followed for another heart entirely only made him more confident. He'd never actually done this before--not this way.

He'd felt the warmth. He'd embraced the sparkle. He'd let the stars grace his lips and the sun ignite upon his breath. He'd indulged in that much time and time again, claiming his one compensation prize for eternal violet. It was his right, born of love he hadn't yet come to understand. Of the movements, Theo had no fear. He could trust in Mixoly's touch and let her heart crash into his own. Helplessness was far more terrifying, and he'd rather burn alive than submit.

The moment her vessel brushed against his skin, he was aflame from within. The scorching pulse in his heart dove into his lungs, his blood boiling in turn. Along every key, brilliance battled to breach his skin. Theo inhaled the night sky and exhaled starlight, wrathful and poisoned with ire.

His light erupted along a song unheard, spiraling somewhere deep into his core. Where it was silent, it resonated in his soul all the same. Every note was involuntary, every motion guided by power surely not his own. To feel it was enough. To see it explode into the darkened evening was enough, radiance left to burst and spear through both chilled air and intruding indigo. His song, if nothing else, was still pure beyond poisoned eyes. It was a blessing in place of a curse, and Theo clung to it with all he had. The stolen light of the sun in the depths of night was resplendent, barreling down on the boy without remorse. It was a miracle that he dodged.

It wasn't by much, and not without difficulty. Eyes wide with shock reflected a starry gleam where sizzling light had just barely missed his face. His retreat was skillful, granted, swift steps claimed in time with calculated movements of his arms. Another case slid down slender shoulders, just as bulky by comparison to the boy who donned it. Where Theo was left to catch his breath, it left time for silver locks to sparkle beneath milky light paling in comparison to his own. Never once did he tear his eyes away from the boy's hurried motions, deftly flipping and unsheathing in turn. So, too, were those startled eyes on him.

What are you doing? Mixoly practically cried.

Theo braced against the soft earth as much as was possible. I won't let them hurt you.

Theo, please, you do not understand!

He wanted to argue. He was distracted by the accordion, mostly. It wasn't as lustrous under the same generous moon, and yet it filled the boy's arms in an instant. Quick fingers settled onto every key, unhesitant in place of an expression far from such. Their gap was reasonable. It still left the distress in the boy's eyes more than visible from afar. Just once, he gestured to the instrument in his arms slowly, fixing one pointed finger on a piccolo raised to readied lips. Whatever words followed were lost. Theo raised an eyebrow.

Theo, stop this and run!

He shook his head, never lowering the piccolo. I won't let anyone hurt you. I promise.

Theo!

Never had he heard his name in her voice so frequently, let alone so desperately. He almost liked it. I'll protect you, he swore.

My child, please!

He didn't let Mixoly object any further. She was stubborn, and he'd learned her to be that way. Her heart was far more familiar than it should've been. For that, he'd be just as stubborn back.

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