Chapter Text
You're on the top floor of a cabin. On the floor below you is your one true love.
He's here to be with you. The world is fine. Everything is fine. You are happy.
The Narrator
Hold on, who are you? Who told you that you could just take over my job? What is this place?
Your happily ever after. I made it for you. The pain and suffering, it's all over. Don't worry.
Voice of the Paranoid
Wait, I know who you are! You're the whiny one from last time!
The Narrator
'Last time'? What are you talking-
Voice of the Paranoid
We are not going over this again. Just try to keep up.
Voice of the Damsel
Why did you call him 'whiny'? That's not very nice. He was just trying to own up to his mistakes.
Voice of the Paranoid
Was he now? And what was his 'apology'? Right, it was murdering the love of our life, which, may I remind you, is exactly what he wanted us to do the first time!
Voice of the Paranoid
Why are you so determined to give him the benefit of the doubt when the mask's already slipping? He's wanted this all along. This whole place is a huge trap.
There's no trap here. I just want to give you the happy ending you deserve. That's all I've ever wanted.
But I kept messing it up with bad ideas and false assumptions. I thought we had to leave to be happy. But every time we've tried to leave, it's led to nothing but disaster.
So, this is how I'm making it right. No more lost arms or pointless murder. You don't need to leave anymore. Everything you could ever want is right here.
Voice of the Damsel
But we want to leave, don't we? And we can't have that if we stay here.
NO!!!
The Narrator
As you attempt to get up, the torches on the walls surrounding you flare angrily, and shadowed hands pin your wrists to your too-comfortable seat.
If you leave, it'll be the end of the world, remember? Besides, what's there to see out there? A few birds and trees? Can't you just let that go and enjoy the rest of eternity?
The Narrator
Wait, 'if you leave, it'll be the end of the world'?
The Narrator
Are... are you the Princess?!
Voice of the Paranoid
I'm surprised you got it that quickly.
The Narrator
But that's impossible! If you were the Princess, you wouldn't be able to interact with me. That's not how this works!
Voice of the Paranoid
And yet here we are.
The Narrator
That doesn't prove anything.
Voice of the Paranoid
Oh, for the love of- decider, can you just tilt our head down a bit? I need to show Him something.
The Narrator
As you lower your head, you catch sight of your lower body... your delicate figure clothed in an elegant gown fit for royalty, a pristine blade hanging from your neck from a golden chain.
The Narrator
...Oh. So you are the Princess. And you have the pristine blade.
Voice of the Paranoid
Yep. Welcome to hell.
Don't talk like that. The world doesn't have to end, and you don't need to be slain. This is what's best for everyone. Trust me.
Voice of the Paranoid
You're really starting to sound like Him.
The Narrator
I'm right here, you know.
Voice of the Paranoid
I don't care. It's true.
The Narrator
Grumbling. Let's just get on with it, shall we?
The Narrator
You hear the sound of a door opening somewhere below you. Your eyes are drawn to the staircase in front of you as you hear nervous footsteps ascending them.
Oh, that must be him. I'll go and finish up dinner. Just call down and let him know you're there, okay?
The Narrator
A dark figure emerges from the stairwell, its eyes darting around the ornate dining hall in confusion. Not even the glowing torchlight can properly illuminate its form, as though it were made of a textured darkness.
Voice of the Damsel
Our dashing prince! He came back! I knew he would!
That's my gift to both of you. You never need to be alone again. In this place, you can be together forever.
The Narrator
The torches flare and a chair swings in from behind the figure, forcibly seating him at the head of the table.
The Narrator
He tries in vain to stand up, but the same shadowed hands from before hold him down.
I can't get up. Something's stopping me. And what's that shadow behind you?
Voice of the Damsel
Shadow? That doesn't sound good...
Voice of the Paranoid
That would be our 'host', waiting for the right time to strike.
N-no, that's not what I am. I'm-
It looks a lot like me, actually. Something's happening to us, and I want to find out what.
I can't really put it into words. It just feels like we're not where we're supposed to be.
What do we do now, anyway?
Don't worry, I've got you covered.
The Narrator
The flames burn bright, and a shadow dives across the table. In its wake, it leaves a feast.
Voice of the Damsel
That looks delicious! Let's dig in!
Voice of the Paranoid
Of course it looks good; that's the trick. But we're not falling for it. We're smarter than that.
Voice of the Damsel
But... how could something this good be a trick?
Voice of the Paranoid
Well, maybe you're not smarter than that. But the decider is.
The Narrator
You begin to feast, and the figure follows suit, his anxiety slowly fading from his face.
Voice of the Paranoid
Fine, I guess I'll just shut up then.
That'd be for the best. You're really bringing down the mood.
The Narrator
The food is just as exquisite as you imagined. You sample countless otherworldly dishes, sauces, and bread and hearty stews whose taste dances across your tongue.
The Narrator
You daintily cut at hunks of meat practically melting from the bone, juicy and tender and bursting with flavors you could scarcely begin to describe. Your cup fills itself again and again with a flowery nectar so sweet it tastes like gleaming jewels.
Voice of the Damsel
It's perfect. And I think he loves it too. Thank you, thank you so much!
Just doing my job.
The Narrator
But the perfect meal is over just as soon as it began. And you're just as hungry as when you started.
Voice of the Damsel
Let's do it again! I never want this to end!
And it never has to.
The Narrator
The shadow washes over the table, clearing and replating. The feast is once again laid before you.
The Narrator
The food is good, again. You nibble at golden, crispy flesh, dab at the slurry of aromatic sauces on your plate with thick-crusted bread, sip your goblet of sparkling gems. But you have done this already.
Why should that matter? It was good the first time, and it was still good this time. You can't improve on perfection.
The Narrator
And then it's over, and you're just as hungry as when you began.
Well, you can't really enjoy a meal on a full stomach, can you?
Voice of the Paranoid
So we're stuck eating the same meal over and over again? That's almost worse than if it were poisoned.
Voice of the Damsel
We just have to do it again. It'll be perfect if we do it again.
The Narrator
And so the shadow sweeps over the table, clearing out the old and laying out the new. And so you do it again.
The Narrator
The meat is fine. The bread is fine. You sample the side dishes, and they're fine too. You finish your goblet, the liquid no longer glimmering on your palatte. You put it down, and it fills again. You consider drinking more, but decide against it as you dab away the tacky film coating your mouth with a napkin.
Voice of the Damsel
Okay, maybe that wasn't as good as last time. That's fine! We're still happy, aren't we?
'Wasn't as good'? It's the same meal as before. What more could you want?
Voice of the Paranoid
She's right. That's the trap. It's trending down.
You're being really ungrateful, you know. You're overthinking it. Just shut up and enjoy.
The Narrator
Again, the shadow replaces your feast, and again you eat.
The Narrator
The meat is greasy. The bread is tough, its crust hurting your jaw as you chew. The gray vegetables are hardly worth the effort of picking through. You don't even touch the goblet, its sickly sweet aroma utterly unappealing.
So you're getting in on it, too? 'Let's all insult our host for the lovely meal he made for us, I'm sure he'd love that!'
The Narrator
I have a duty to uphold the truth, and the truth is that the meal was terrible. Do you want me to lie to spare your feelings? Besides, what happened to this being an apology?
It is an apology. But I still don't appreciate you all treating it like it's worthless rubbish.
The Narrator
One of the torches on the wall sputters and goes out entirely.
Breathes sadly. When will it be enough for you?
Voice of the Damsel
What just happened? Did we do something wrong?
Voice of the Paranoid
A light went out. Maybe a coincidence, but... maybe not.
Voice of the Paranoid
Remember when he said something was wrong? Maybe the torches are hiding something we need to see.
You can't 'hide' something with light. If you put out the torches, you'll just be lost in the dark.
Voice of the Paranoid
Maybe that's better than being blinded by the light.
The Narrator
If you leave, the world ends. I don't think it can get worse than that.
Voice of the Damsel
We should try something else! Maybe we should play a game! That would be fun, right?
That's... actually a good idea. At least I won't get any more snide remarks about my cooking.
The Narrator
The flames roar as if in response to the dousing of their brother, and the shadow comes dancing across the table. It leaves behind an intricate game, its pieces elegant and beautiful and enticing, its simple rules already apparent even with little explanation.
Voice of the Paranoid
Another distraction. But a distraction from what? What doesn't our host want us to see?
There you go again, overthinking things and making yourself miserable. Trust me, I know from experience that that never works out for anyone. Just try to have some fun, okay?
The Narrator
And you do have fun. The tension between turns, the triumphant highs of moves well placed, and the tragic lows of miscalculations and careless plays. The warmth of trust and the cool texture of deception. And then, the climax, as you place your final piece...
Voice of the Damsel
...We got the rules wrong, didn't we?
The Narrator
And so you start over.
The Narrator
Time passes. You play the game. He wins.
Voice of the Damsel
Wow! He's so good at this! We should play again.
The Narrator
Time passes, you play the game. You win.
Voice of the Damsel
...Huh. I thought it would feel better if we won.
The Narrator
There is a long pause, and the board does not reset.
Voice of the Damsel
I don't think this is fun anymore.
Voice of the Paranoid
It's never going to stay fun.
I made all of this for you! Is this not enough for you? An eternity of bliss? You... you ingrates!
The Narrator
I'm sorry, how is this an 'eternity of bliss'? You're just putting them through the same thing over and over again. You can't expect them to... oh.
The Narrator
Another torch sputters. The figure gives you a knowing look.
Voice of the Damsel
Wait, wait, wait! Maybe this is just too easy? Maybe if you added more rules and pieces it'd be fun again!
...Yeah. I can do that. I guess it's a bit too simple to be perfect.
The Narrator
The shadow descends on the board again. More pieces are added, their shapes more intricate, their purposes less immediately clear.
There! Now it's perfect!
The Narrator
The two of you eagerly set about discovering the complexities of the game anew. It is fun again. In fact, it's almost as fun as the first time you played, and the sputtering torch roars back to life.
'Almost as fun'? You really don't have a kind bone in your body, do you?
The Narrator
It's still the same game. A little bit of change isn't going to... Oh.
The Narrator
...You get used to the additions and the vibrant feeling starts to fade, a creeping numbness settling in over the board.
No, no, no, this is all wrong! I... I just need to add more pieces, that's it! It's still too simple! It's still not perfect!
The Narrator
More pieces are added. The feelings flare. The feelings fade. You suggest new rules. A glimmer of what could have been excitement flits through your mind, quickly vanishing as the game progresses. Your pieces advance in an ever increasing slog to their destination.
The Narrator
Winning and losing become nothing but ends, and even the end becomes nothing as you roll into a new game, the board resetting as many times as you can finish.
The Narrator
Another torch goes out. Again, the remaining torches burn brighter.
Why aren't you happy? Why isn't this enough? Why isn't anything I do for you enough?
Voice of the Damsel
We're happy! I promise! We're both so, so happy here! You don't have to be upset!
The Narrator
This is... awful.
Do we actually have everything we need? Because it doesn't feel like it, it feels like...
The Narrator
The third torch sputters out.
And what do you really want? If you could do anything in the world right now, what would it be?
Voice of the Paranoid
Oh. That's what He said we should do last time, isn't it? I know He was making fun of us, but... I really like that idea.
The Narrator
I said that last time? That... sounds lovely.
Voice of the Damsel
But there aren't any stars here. We'd have to leave.
The Narrator
You bury your sobbing face in your hands as the final torch blows out. The figure looks close to tears as well.
I'm sorry, I feel like all of this is my fault.
Voice of the Shadow
That's a funny thing to say, after everything that's happened. He's barely done anything at all. He didn't make us bite off our arm or kill him. That was all me.
Voice of the Paranoid
So... you're back in here? With us?
Voice of the Shadow
Yeah. I'm just a shadow, remember? And there's no more light. It's all just unbroken darkness.
Voice of the Shadow
...That was directed as much at me as it was at him, wasn't it?
Voice of the Damsel
You've been so preoccupied with our happiness and his that you forgot about yourself. You're making yourself miserable. You need to let go.
Voice of the Shadow
I think I'd like that. I'm never gonna stop caring about all of you, I just need to be more thoughtful about it. And I can't tear myself apart in the process.
Voice of the Shadow(?)
Thank you. For everything...
Voice of the Damsel
...
Voice of the Damsel
I don't think he's really gone. I think he's just part of me now.
Voice of the Damsel
We weren't all that different, you know. And we both had a lot to learn.
The Narrator
As you come to your feet, the figure follows suit, waiting by the top of the stairs as you cross the room to meet him.
Voice of the Paranoid
You know, we're right within his stabbing range. If He wanted to, He could just take him over again and kill us like He's always wanted.
Voice of the Damsel
But He's not going to do that, is He?
The Narrator
...No, I don't think I will.
The Narrator
That is what I wanted. At least, what I thought I wanted. But after catching a glimpse of my happy ending... maybe there are worse things than the end of the world.
Of course I do. I don't think I'll ever stop.
Voice of the Paranoid(?)
So, you were right all along. He really does love us.
Voice of the Happily Ever After
I think we'll get our happy ending after all.
The Narrator
The figure offers you his hand. You gently take his hand in yours.
The Narrator
It's rough, and more than a little dry. But his skin against yours is the most real thing you have ever felt.
The Narrator
You and the figure don't exchange words as you descend the stairs to the cabin's entrance.
The Narrator
And then, the two of you step out into the world. I think this is the end of me, even if it's not the end of you. I'm sorry for everything. Really, I am.
The Narrator
...Huh. Never thought I'd be saying that to you, of all people. The only constant is change, I suppose. Maybe that's not so bad...
Voice of the Happily Ever After
He's gone. We're finally free.
A quiet moment passes over you. A comfortable quiet.
You gently pull him forward, and the two of you fall into a graceful step. The only rhythm that guides you is the shared thumping of your hearts, beating in perfect unison.
His inscrutable face warms into the closest approximation of a smile his beak can manage. You smile softly back at him as the fatigue in your face turns to a quiet joy.
He sends you out in a wide spin, and your arms stretch to their limits, only the tenuous grasp of your hand in his holding you together. You share a gaze that feels like it lasts forever, until you are taken away by a thousand grasping limbs.
You feel cold. But you're used to it by now.
You feel a deep sadness, but it's not coming from you.
Desperation. ‘Do you exist only to torment me? To tease and mock me with pale imitations of our endless dance, only to leave me unfinished?’
A sad anger. ‘You think you love me, but all you have done is dangle images of what you and I could be just beyond my reach. That is not love.’
Everything goes dark, and you die.