“Obviously, feather-brain,” the Hero huffed from his perch on Curd’s shoulder. “There’s color, for one thing.”
The usual monochrome silence of the woods was broken by the gentle hushing of a nearby ocean, small blossoms and tropical plants shining like gemstones between the grey trunks. Glittering beams of sunlight filtered through trees too high to see the top, a light mist signifying the humid breeze.
“Yes, it’s pretty, but does that mean something’s wrong? This has never happened before- the Narrator’s gone too, isn’t he?”
“Oh noooooooo,” the Contrarian commented sarcastically. “WhatEVER shall we do without that overbearing son of a bit-“
“Okay, yes, shut up,” Chara interrupted, flapping his wings irritably.
“You shut up. We’re not getting anything useful just standing here.”
“I guess,” the Hero muttered reluctantly. “It’s not like we can do much other than go to the cabin, anyway.”
Curd nodded, starting down the marked path. Soft dirt stuck to his talons as he walked, foliage whispering as he passed. At the crest of the hill overlooking the cabin, he had to stop, doubling over to catch his breath.
“You’re more built for cold weather, huh,” the Hero said as he examined Curd’s thick white coat of feathers, frazzled in the humidity.
I’m sweating through my feathers.
“Gross. Can birds even do that?”
“Let’s just focus on getting to the cabin. It’s usually nice in there, right?”
The avian skeleton managed to stumble through the cabin door, sighing with relief at the break from the sunlight. He wanted to lay facedown on the smooth marble floor to cool off, but he had the feeling that would be considered rude.
“It would. You should do it anyway.”
“It’s not like there’s anyone here that would see you, right? The Prince is always locked in the basement…if we’re assuming that still applies here, and that there’s even a Prince at all.” The Hero paused scanning the room. “It looks like there’s The Blade, though.”
“Up to you. I personally would, for protection, but it could also give the wrong impression if we meet someone new.”
“Throw it out the window.”
Curd frowned at the thought of shattering one of the intricate stained glass windows. They filled the tall marble hallway with bright rays of color, each depicting a different intricately painted figure. Curd liked the ones with images of suns, moons, stars and planets.
“You have weird taste,” The Contrarian said, landing in front of the window with a dark, multi-eyed figure. “This one is clearly the best-“
“Shh, I hear movement from below. Whatever your choice, Cross, please make it quick.”
Curd cautiously crept down the massive marble staircase, the towering columns and sweeping carvings making him feel small- which, as a 7’2” bird creature with the strength of a Royal Guard, was pretty impressive.
The room they arrived in was stiflingly hot, even more so than outside. Every inch of wall seemed to be covered in tall, arching windows that poured sunlight into the room like the crystal stream that ran along one wall. Curd had to shield his eyes from the blinding light, thus he didn’t see the other figure in the room.
Curd barely suppressed a yelp as the temperature shot up to that of an oven as a voice radiated around a room.
“Well…guess we aren’t alone.”
“J-just a…Royal…Guard-“ the avian managed to gasp through constricting lungs.
“Are you? One of my sibling’s?” The figure asked, taking a step closer to examine him. The chokehold of heat released somewhat, leaving Curd collapsing to the ground. “Mm…no, I don’t think so.”
From the ground, Curd has able to get his first good look at the other. She was an impossibly beautiful skeleton clothed in shimmering silks and trimmed in gold, eyes like twin stars that bored into him and heated the room around them. A delicate gilded circlet mimicking the rays of the sun rested on her head.
Curd pulled himself from the marble floor and into a bow, wings spread out at his sides.
“What are you doing, putting yourself in a vulnerable position?” Chara hissed, flapping circles around his head.
She’s clearly royalty with immense power, Curd replied to the Voice. I’m not sure I could survive very long in a fight.
“What are you?” The god interrupted his inner conversation, tilting her head slightly. “You most certainly aren’t a god, and yet you aren’t a scrawny mortal, either. Get up.”
Curd shakily rose to his feet as Dream slowly paced around him in examination. “I’m not…quite sure what I am,” he said. “I don’t really remember much beyond waking up in these woods.”
“Ah, a mystery.” Her face remained composed but a spark of interest shown in her eyes. “Well, perhaps someone I know can- ah.” She sighed in exasperation as Curd fell again, this time fainting from the heat.
