Cycles of Entropy

To Livia's great alarm, I gasped and fell backward, off of my stool. The vision evaporated around me as water ran down my cheeks. These weren't the same tears I'd shed on previous iterations of the same day, however. They weren't weary, or hopeless, or even self-loathing. Not really. They were hot and they burned my skin like I burned inside. For the first time since I left home, I was angry. I was sick with hatred for the man I had just watched.

Margaret had hurt me, so many times. She had threatened Harrison and the girls, and everyone else in this city. In this loop, she had made it dangerous to even find and protect the people I had grown to care about. Her, I feared. I was terrified of facing her. But for some reason, I had never felt angry. She was the monster I struggled to believe in and didn't want to see. I held too much anger for myself to spare any for even my tormentors. But Margaret's father? This Charo? Him I could spare the space for. I hated him.

"Are you alright, Mars?" Livia worried as Marcus rushed to help me to my feet.

"Steady there, It's a terrible story, surely, but it happened a long time ago. Margaret is alright now, I can promise you that!" Marcus chimed in, offering me his hand to pull me up. I gaped up at him for a moment, completely floored by how blasé he was being. Then I realized, I was the only one in the vision I had seen. Livia must have been telling me the version of events she knew about the entire time. I wasn't sure how closely it matched what I'd witnessed, but the look on Marcus' face indicated the key detail had been omitted. It wasn't surprising, really. It's unlikely that sort of thing would be well known, and the woman had been sick anyway.

I didn't question that the vision had been real. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it was the reality of the previous vision I had seen. Maybe it was because of the familiarity of the aura. I don't know. But I was certain it was real. And, as afraid of Margaret as I was, I finally understood her. I understood the yelling when she had last tried to kill me. She was like me, all those years ago. Trying to stand in the shoes of a hero who never really loved her. Believing the praise her father offered a little at a time, like bait in a snare.

When she saw the actual empty shells of the dead, she must have found herself in that room again. Watching what her father did. And she had a choice. She could believe in the 'dignity' her father offered her mother. She could believe in Luna's gift. Or... she could face what had really happened in that room when she was a child. She could grapple with everything she had done while walking in her father's footsteps since. And that... that was a choice that would break anyone. Maybe I was projecting. Maybe connecting with her was easier than fearing her. But I thought I understood. So I offered Marcus my hand and allowed him to pull me up.

"Aethon's grace, Mars, are you closer to Margaret than I thought? I'm so sorry, I should have been more sensitive," Livia apologized but I shook my head.

"N-No, that's not it," I assured. "Um, do you know anyone that can deliver a note to an address? I need to warn a friend about something," I asked. Livia blinked at the change in subject but shrugged.

"Depends on where I suppose," she answered.

"A friend's home. Harrison, near the cemetery," I replied hopefully.

"Oh, Hadley's boy? I can do that if you like," Marcus offered. I smiled at him gratefully, before pulling out my journal. I tore out a page and hurriedly wrote on it. I was going to try to make it to the girls before the attack that night, but I wanted to be sure. If something happened to me... if I had to confront Margaret, I needed a backup.

"Thank you, Marcus. Here," I offered, pulling out a large coin for him at the same time.

"Oh, I'm not busy, I don't need the tip," he tried to dismiss but I ignored him. I'd have it back in a couple of days in any case.

"Please try to get it to him quickly, and don't stay there once you do, alright?" I requested. He shrugged and pocketed the coin.

"Suit yourself," he agreed and I sighed. It was time to move on. A decision that was quickly made for me as the front door creaked loudly and the room went silent. The hairs on the back of my neck raised and my heart raced. Something was wrong, I could feel it. I hesitantly turned to the door, and all the color in the world fled like snow near fire. My eyes widened as I looked at the still bloody hair, gripped tightly in Cyri's hand. This had never happened before. Marcus was supposed to be the first victim in the inn. But I had changed things. This time, Margaret was looking for me.

A thousand thoughts rushed through my head as sweat dripped down from my hair. Did she have a way to find me, or was this just a reasonable guess? Was Cyri the only one she sent after me? I had a thousand questions and worries, and I could feel that familiar tightening of the skin which always preceded a full panic attack. But I didn't have time to keep asking questions. So I closed my eyes, just for a moment, and let the scene wash over me. The woman I had failed in the doorway. The innocent people inside. I had to respond, I knew that, but my feet were ice, frozen to the old wood floor.

I started counting. It was all the same to me, in a way. The fear of the death I was facing and the fear of facing another day as myself. The fear of watching people be hurt because of me, and the fear of letting the world hurt through inaction. No matter what I did, there was an insurmountable wall of fear. But, as with every morning when I failed to rise from bed, I could get myself to where I needed to be. I just needed to take small steps forward. Trick myself into that feeling of progress. Those little goals I could work toward, one at a time. I mouthed the word 'one', then began the chant for 'Still World'. I didn't have the strength to react like I needed to, but I could. Given enough time.

Cyri exploded through the door with the speed of a woman without fear of consequence or pain. It was like no obstacles existed between her and me, as she knocked tables, chairs, and full glasses aside in her sprint. At the same time blue aura erupted from me like a rapidly blooming flower. It ran down my skin, around my grimoire, and strangled the world into silence in an instant. I was still standing still, and I couldn't breathe, but the world would wait for me. It was something I alone could always count on. The time to be who I needed to be. The world to wait for me to catch up to it. 'Two', I mouthed in the sudden silence.

All around me were the panicked and confused faces of Livia's Patrons. In front of me was Cyri, glaring at me with the desperation of the drowning. 'Three'. I could see exactly what Sisen meant. I didn't understand how I had ever missed it. I had just seen it on Margaret's face as she watched her father. I'd felt it on my own, when I finally understood what I had done to Camilla. The pain she was here for, she didn't own it. It was given to her. Pushed onto her like a tsunami, washing her world away with it. Except Margaret and I wanted the water around us. We wanted to be carried away in one way or another. Not Cyri. One look in her eyes and I knew, all she wanted was the return of Luna's gift. There wasn't much of her left, but that much was obvious. 'Four'.

'Five. Six. Seven...' I counted until I felt it. A twitch in my toe. A rush of energy, pulsing through my body, finally ready for action. And I moved. I didn't need to do much, I just needed to draw Cyri away from the inn. It had been more than an hour since our last confrontation, so it was too late to save her. But I could save everyone else. I ran, as best I could with my breath held. Still World was different since saving the girls from Hadley's home. I could move people away from the danger. Put more mundane barriers in the woman's path. I didn't have any greater strength, so clearing the way wasn't easy. My lungs cried out for breath as I pulled grown men to the sides of the room.

It seemed to take eons. Every movement was weaker than the last and my chest wanted to convule for need of air. But I wouldn't give up. I couldn't. Even if it was only once, only this loop, I wouldn't let anyone be hurt because of me again. I felt the dark of sleep closing in on me as I pulled the final table between Cyri and the last potential victim on the other side of the room. The way was clear. My vision blurred. My body ached. But I made my way to the entrance of the inn. There was no one in front of Cyri. No one was behind her. If she was after me, which I knew she must have been, I could get her out of there safely. Finally, I dropped the spell.

Sound returned like a lion's roar and air climbed down my throat in a wretched gasp. "I'm over here!" I immediately called, not wasting my new breath. I needed to get her out of the inn. I could figure out the rest later. As soon as I did, Cyri froze. I could see confusion in the faces around me, and even hear murmured expletives and complaints. All that mattered was Cyri. She turned, then grit her teeth, her fist tightening around the hair from my scalp she still clutched. It had worked, and it was time to run. She started moving toward me and... my legs refused to move. My eyes widened and my fists clenched involuntarily. For everything I had realized about myself, I still couldn't react like I wanted to. She got closer. In a moment I knew it was too late to outrun her.

She was moving more quickly than a fully conscious human could, even if they had the spine to do anything at all. Or perhaps it was simply energy I lacked. Either way, her hand hovered in front of my face before I could so much as turn. I had planned for this exact scenario, I couldn't believe I was failing to respond to it correctly. I refused to fail. I refused to be murdered, again, for offering this woman a moment of peace. I tried to step backward and tripped, falling over and scraping my palms against the ground. Cyri was on me a moment later and I felt her teeth digging into my shoulder, tearing at my clothes. I felt the blood running and I bit my own lip.

I felt... angry. Furious. At Cyri for hurting me. At Margaret for doing this to this woman. At her father for telling her it was kind. At myself for continuing to be so damn pathetic. I couldn't use 'Still World'. Her teeth would still be in me. Instead, I thought back to earlier in the day. I could feel the world around me, the threads of the loop in my hands, and I gripped. I gripped and pulled and screamed. Just like before, I could feel the loop react. Like I was dragging myself back. Gripping the past like I had always, desperately, wanted to and giving myself a chance to do better.

The world complied. It was like a brief casting of 'Undone' but on... everything. I could only force myself back a few breaths. A few moments. After that, it was like swimming through stone. Unyielding. But it was enough. When the world returned to itself I was again standing, the pain in my shoulder gone. Cyri was turning toward me, ready to punish me on Margaret's behalf. This time, I turned and ran. I had to get away. I had to get her away from anyone she could hurt. Then I had to figure out exactly how much danger this loop was in.

I looked over my shoulder and saw her closing the distance. She was too fast, but I could handle that. I didn't freeze this time, however. My anger carried me forward. All I needed was time, and time was the one thing I would always have on my side.