rescent Eclipse lay in the dirt where it had landed, heavy and accusing.
Derpy stood there with his palms stinging, chest heaving, trying to swallow down the embarrassment before it could turn into something worse.
Riven tilted her head.
“Again?” she asked.
Lenora’s stare could’ve pinned a man to a wall.
Vespera’s rings glinted faintly in the dark.
Then her voice cut through the tension, calm and precise.
“Derpy. Can I speak with you?”
Derpy blinked, still catching his breath. “Yeah… okay.”
Lenora’s eyes narrowed. “Keep it short.”
Vespera dipped her chin once, like she’d already planned to.
Derpy retrieved Crescent Eclipse, dusted it off with the sleeve of his hoodie, and followed Vespera a few steps away—far enough that the others couldn’t hear every word, close enough that Lenora could still intervene if she had to.
Riven watched them go, unbothered, like the spar had been a simple lesson.
Lewd watched too.
Her fingers twisted together at her waist.
Vespera’s Admission
Vespera stopped beneath a crooked pine and faced him.
Her posture was formal.
Controlled.
But her eyes were sharper than usual.
“I owe you honesty,” she said.
Derpy’s stomach tightened. “Okay…”
“When you were out of commission,” Vespera continued, “I… tested the edges of your mind.”
Derpy’s breath caught.
Vespera didn’t flinch from the reaction.
“Not to harm you. Not to take. I was looking for what I sensed.”
Derpy’s hands curled into fists. “You— you went in my head?”
“I did,” she said. “And I found something.”
Derpy’s jaw clenched. “The shadow.”
Vespera’s gaze didn’t waver. “Yes.”
Silence stretched.
Derpy’s ears rang with it.
His first instinct was to snap.
To shove her away.
To tell her she had no right.
But Vespera didn’t look pleased.
She didn’t look proud.
If anything, she looked careful.
Like she knew she’d crossed a line and was standing still so he could decide what to do with her.
Derpy exhaled through his nose, hard.
“That’s messed up,” he said.
“I know,” Vespera replied.
Derpy’s throat tightened. “Why didn’t you just ask?”
“I didn’t know if you could answer,” she said quietly. “And I didn’t know if I could afford to wait.”
Derpy stared at her.
Then he looked away.
His fingers flexed.
His bracelets felt too warm.
He swallowed down the anger—not because it wasn’t real, but because he didn’t want to let it drive.
“I’m mad,” he admitted.
Vespera dipped her chin. “You have the right.”
Derpy’s shoulders sagged.
Then, against his own better judgment, he let out a long breath.
“…I forgive you,” he said.
Vespera’s eyes eased a fraction.
Derpy lifted a hand before she could speak.
“Don’t do it again.”
“I won’t,” she said immediately.
The Part of Him He Hates
Derpy stared at the ground for a long moment.
Then he spoke, voice rough.
“It’s me,” he said. “But it’s not me.”
Vespera listened without interrupting.
Derpy swallowed.
“There was a time… back where I’m from… people used to pick on me. A lot.”
His voice tried to go flat, like he could make it not matter.
It didn’t work.
“At my old job,” he continued, “it was constant. Like… every day was a test to see how much I could take before I snapped.”
Vespera’s jaw set.
Derpy’s hands shook once, then steadied.
“I got bullied,” he said. “I got messed with. I got blamed for stuff I didn’t do. I got talked down to like I was stupid.”
His throat burned.
“And I tried to be nice,” he said. “I tried to just… not make waves.”
He made a short, sharp sound that held no humor.
“Didn’t matter. They still did it.”
Vespera’s voice stayed low. “And you were fired.”
Derpy nodded.
“Yeah,” he said. “And after a while… you start hearing their voices even when they’re not there.”
He tapped his temple with two fingers.
“Negative thoughts,” he said. “Chaos. This… unhinged part of me that wants to burn everything down just so it stops.”
Vespera’s eyes tightened.
Derpy’s mouth pulled to one side. “I don’t want anyone to see it. I don’t want it to get out.”
He swallowed.
“But… being here,” he said, voice quieter, “it keeps it back.”
Vespera didn’t move.
Derpy looked up at her.
“Lenora,” he said. “Mia. Sphinx. Lewd. Even Riven, weird as she is.”
His chest tightened.
“All of you… you keep it at bay,” he admitted. “Just… by being here. By treating me like I’m not trash.”
Vespera’s expression went still.
Respectful.
Almost solemn.
Derpy exhaled.
“I’m done for tonight,” he said. “I’m tired.”
Vespera nodded. “Rest.”
Derpy turned away.
He didn’t look back.
Vespera Tells the Group
Vespera returned to the others alone.
Lenora’s eyes narrowed immediately. “What did you say to him?”
Vespera’s voice stayed even. “I asked questions I had no right to ask.”
Vemi blinked. “Huh?”
Lewd’s shoulders tensed.
Vespera looked at them—at the whole cluster of people who’d somehow become Derpy’s anchor.
“There is a part of him,” she said, “that he fears.”
Lenora’s jaw tightened.
Vespera continued.
“A shadow. A chaotic, negative self he does not want anyone to see. He believes it was shaped by constant cruelty in his old world.”
Lewd’s eyes went glossy.
Vespera’s gaze flicked to her.
“He said you keep it back,” Vespera added. “All of you.”
Lenora’s throat worked once.
Then she looked away like she hated feeling anything about it.
“Then we keep doing that,” Lenora said.
Vespera dipped her chin.
Derpy’s Room
That night, Derpy locked his door.
He sat in the corner of the room with his knees pulled up, hoodie sleeves covering his hands like armor.
The inn was quiet.
But his head wasn’t.
Outside the door, Mia and Sphinx pawed softly.
A whine.
A little scratch.
Derpy squeezed his eyes shut.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
Talking about the past had dragged something up.
Something that didn’t want to go back down.
Lewd and Vemi Check on Him
A soft knock.
“Derpy?”
Lewd’s voice.
Derpy didn’t answer.
Another knock, gentler.
Lewd hesitated outside the door, uncertain.
Then her footsteps retreated.
A moment later, two sets returned.
Vemi’s voice, low and coaxing. “Okay, okay. We’ll just peek. No drama.”
Lewd fumbled with the latch.
It was locked.
Vemi leaned in, listening. “He’s breathing. I can hear it.”
Lewd’s hands trembled. “What if he’s… what if something’s wrong?”
Vemi exhaled, then produced a thin pick like she’d done this before.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered. “Inn life teaches skills.”
The lock clicked.
They slipped inside.
Derpy was asleep.
Not in the bed.
Half on it, half curled like he’d collapsed mid-thought.
Lewd rushed forward, then stopped herself.
She stared.
His bracelets—those yellow bands—were changing.
Yellow.
Black.
Yellow.
Black.
Like the color couldn’t decide what it wanted to be.
A pulse rolled through the room.
Not loud.
But deep.
Derpy’s calamity book wasn’t visible… and yet it felt present, like a heartbeat under the floorboards.
Lewd’s arms went cold.
Blight Vein stirred.
Her own book lifted from her grasp like it had been tugged by an invisible string.
It floated.
Drifted.
And settled beside Derpy—close enough that the air between them felt charged.
The two calamities pulsed together.
In sync.
Not fighting.
Recognizing.
Lewd’s breath hitched.
Vemi whispered, “Uh… is that normal?”
Lewd shook her head, eyes wide.
She pulled a chair to the bedside, hands shaking, and sat down like she could physically block anything from reaching him.
Minutes passed.
The pulsing didn’t stop.
Lewd’s eyelids grew heavy.
She fought it.
Lost.
Her head tipped forward.
She fell asleep in the chair, still facing Derpy like a guard who refused to leave her post.
Vemi backed out quietly.
She shut the door.
And this time, she didn’t lock it.
Vemi Catches Vambasta
Back downstairs, the inn was dim.
The counter was quiet.
Vemi was halfway through wiping a mug when she noticed movement near the stairs.
A shadow.
A tall shape trying very hard to be subtle.
Vemi froze.
Then she showed teeth.
“Wow,” she said loudly. “Pack leader shuffling around like a lost puppy?”
Vambasta stopped mid-step.
Her ears flicked back.
Her eyes narrowed. “Go to sleep, Vemi.”
Vemi leaned on the counter. “Not until you tell me why you’re sneaking.”
Vambasta’s jaw clenched.
Vemi’s voice turned sharper. “You’re going to see him in the morning. You literally told him that.”
Vambasta stared at the stairs like they’d insulted her.
Then she exhaled, low.
“I feel… weird,” she admitted.
Vemi’s teasing eased. “Weird how?”
Vambasta’s voice dropped. “After the battle. After he made me yield.”
She flexed her hand like she could still feel the impact.
“It’s like,” she said, “he gave me purpose again.”
Vemi blinked.
Then she nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
She looked around the quiet inn.
“It’s been lively since the party came to town,” Vemi said.
A voice from the side.
Lenora.
“Lively is one word,” she said.
Vambasta turned, caught off guard.
Lenora stepped into the lantern light, arms crossed, expression tired.
Vambasta’s mouth tightened. “You always appear like a knife.”
Lenora shrugged. “Habit.”
Vemi’s eyes darted between them, hungry for the tension.
Lenora’s gaze slid toward the stairs. “He’s sleeping.”
Vambasta’s ears angled forward. “I know.”
Lenora studied her for a beat.
Then, unexpectedly, she spoke.
“I met him because he fell out of the sky,” Lenora said.
Vemi blinked. “Wait, what?”
Vambasta’s brow lifted.
Lenora’s voice stayed flat.
“Red hoodie. Two animals. Hit the ground like the world dropped him by mistake.”
Vemi made a short sound through her nose.
Lenora’s eyes eased a fraction.
“He looked ridiculous,” she said.
Then her expression hardened again, like she didn’t want to admit the next part.
“But he can run when he wants to,” Lenora added.
Vespera’s voice joined from the dim.
“And I met them because I sensed a change in the air,” she said.
Vambasta’s gaze snapped to her.
Vespera stepped into view, rings faintly glowing.
“I thought they had stolen a calamity,” Vespera said. “One that has been missing for centuries.”
Vambasta made a low sound in her throat. “You two have had quite the experience.”
Lenora exhaled. “That’s one way to say it.”
Vambasta’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “He’s quick on his feet.”
Vespera dipped her chin. “Yes.”
Lenora’s voice was flat, but not dismissive. “He adapts.”
Vemi leaned on the counter, watching the three of them like she was watching a story write itself.
Derpy’s Dream
Derpy’s sleep wasn’t peaceful.
It was heavy.
Thick.
Like sinking.
He found himself standing in a place that wasn’t a place.
A dark stretch of nothing with faint embers drifting through it like fireflies.
Two shapes waited ahead.
Two dragons.
One was Celica—pink-white electricity crawling along her outline, eyes bright with possessive amusement.
The other was green.
Not Vespera.
Smaller.
Sharper.
Her scales looked like wet emerald glass.
She watched Derpy like she was measuring him.
Celica’s voice purred. “Look who finally stopped pretending he’s fine.”
Derpy’s throat went dry. “Where am I?”
The green dragon stepped forward.
Her voice was smooth—too smooth—like a formula spoken in a lover’s tone.
“I am a calamity,” she said.
Derpy’s stomach dropped.
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing as if she were calculating him.
“I am Blight Vein,” she continued. “A ledger of rot. A balance sheet of what the body can endure.”
Her mouth shifted, just slightly.
“But you can call me Blight.”
Celica’s electricity crackled, entertained.
Blight’s gaze slid over Derpy like she was reading numbers off his skin.
“Two books,” she murmured. “Two frequencies. One heartbeat. Do you know what happens when you force a resonance long enough?”
Derpy swallowed. “I—”
Blight’s teeth showed.
“You get a solution,” she said softly. “Or you get a reaction.”
The embers in the dark drifted faster, like the dream itself had leaned in to listen.
And somewhere far away—through wood and stone and locked doors—two books pulsed together in the same rhythm as his heart.