Chapter Text
“Trespasser upon the holy grounds,”
A strong and clear voice pierced through the fogginess within Jade’s pain-ridden brain. Groaning, he blinks rapidly to meet his rude awakener.
“Did you take my leniency for ignorance? I may be known as the beholder of truths and overseer of benevolence, but to so openly scoff at my power is to threaten my people.” Eyes focusing, Jade sees a stunning visage- a knight in shining armor. A man draped with the finest of veils and dazzling jewels and yet despite it all, it would seem the least stunning aspect of the other. Hair of the purest silver and a sheen that only polished moonstones bore, to eyes so strong Jade was sure they were rooted in his soul. Once more the knight would speak, tinged with a slight fluster and uncertainty, “Minister of the sunken kingdom, do you take your title of Envoy so lightly?”
As if a string was pulled taut within Jade’s head, a sudden realization came to him.
I don’t think you’re in Kansas, Dorothy.
His second thought was a lot more helpful. Well, third if he didn’t curse at the influence Floyd had on his lexicon.
I should be dead. Was one point he had come to, this isn’t earth, was another. A pang of an emotion Jade’s sure he was not prepared to care for twisted in the back of his mind as he furrowed his brow, memories flashing like slideshows. It wouldn’t be good to wait for him to gain his bearings before replying if the increasing tension was anything to care for.
A vision of a too-still ocean, loud in its tranquility.
“My apologies,” Jade said testily, attempting to mirror the other’s speech, “I don’t recall…”
A panicked call from a twin who's always seemed so distant despite being attached at the hip.
“You don’t recall?”
The knowledge that he could’ve run- could’ve tried to escape. The feeling of his clumsy feet remaining flat on the ground. He remembered back at the old fishing village they came from.
He had approximately a quarter of an hour, he could still escape. He could still find his way back to his family. Pull back on the familial ties he had tried to abandon. The pull of something he finally had the courage to resist. Something he thought he could finally leave behind.
“I’m sorry, I don’t quite recall where I am?”
Wrong question. Jade hears the hushed gasps from those who flanked the knight. Was there really something so important that he had somehow found his way to?
“Sir Jade,” A hesitation shows as the other glances at his guards(?) “I believe this presents a rather prominent issue then.”
You’re telling me that. Jade, in the midst of it all realizes his utter lack of spatial awareness. Discreetly glancing at his surroundings (careful in the case of further offense) he realizes he was not outdoors, like the gentle wind and blossoming flowers implied. Breathtaking murals built out of colored glass gems stood overhead- allowing the lights to seem even more ephemeral. Stories of dragons and fairies played out in the art’s narrative- before at the peak of the building’s roof, a window to the sky remained clear directly above.
With great certainty, Jade knew at midday it would likely align with the empty circle he now sat within. It is perhaps then that is increasingly aware of how deeply horrid his situation could be. A distant voice also echoes.
Sir Jade?
“Excuse me,” Jade replies as he attempted to stand as unoffensively as possible, “But-”
Vertigo quickly claimed his vision as he wobbled before the colorful fauna around him became far too much. In a collage of messy and blurred splashes of colors, Jade felt deeply ill. Perhaps it was why standing was not his first choice of action.
Distant shouts flowed around his temple as he found himself falling.
Just before he’s sure that his face would meet the dirt, he feels a strong yet calloused hand grab him.
-
Awareness does not quite leave Jade so much as it molds into something else. As if in a protest for being displaced so suddenly, Jade finds himself in a familiar yet unwelcoming classroom. It’s not hard for him to figure out where he is–
“You’re such a good kid, Jade.” A vague face tells him, “It would be good if your brother was more like you.”
Jade furrows his eyebrows as a slight dissatisfaction sunk into his bones. Despite this clearly felt out emotion, his face reflected an opposing emotion. A thin smile spreads across Jade’s face before he meets the ‘eyes’ of the figure.
“Thank you.” He says simply.
No words of defense with a distinct lack of familial care. He hates it.
He hates the words, the smiles, and the proud aura the phantom before him seemed to emanate.
A couple of phrases left unspoken instead echoed inside his ribcage.
My brother’s brilliance was just too much for you, sir.
Floyd was a special existence to him.
Is your excellence as a teacher so lowly as to not realize which of us is the smarter one?
Ever since Floyd was born, Jade could remember that much. The innovation and knowledge that stretched far beyond others in their peerage. In a way, Jade had felt as if he was riding the tail-coats on Floyd’s path in life. The only thing Jade could possibly hold over Floyd was his ability to commit to something he lacked care for- and yet.
The moment Floyd cared for anything, Jade would feel so infinitesimally small in comparison. The impulsivity, the recklessness, the ability to somehow charm while being so out of place- It was something Jade could only imitate despite the fact they were cut from the same cloth.
It’s almost pathetic, the way that they were both conceived at the same time, and yet Jade could only take courage from his other half.
…If Jade could even be considered as much.
He tries to punch the shade, and the world shifts.
[ As the changeling child of the fae, the prince’s position had never been secure. While the tales would depict gifts and blessings to be a declaration of strength, they could never truly mention the price. Humans do not find pleasure in trusting those that are different, those with abilities that stretch beyond their own. There are never “good fairies,” only threats.
When the prince who had been hidden within the woods was declared missing, even had he returned as he had left, there would have no longer been a steady foundation for him to stand on. A child who was left abandoned by the world that had once celebrated him.
“That was the story of the Prince Silver’s origins”, claimed a minstrel in the bar.
“What happened to him?” asked the lady in blue, “Surely he had risen above the hardship with his great might?”
The minstrel sighed with a great theatrical wave of her hand, “Nay, for he, beloved by spirits, too suffered from their cursed magicks. Oh, despite his rise to the top with great valor and the betterment of human and fae relations, he would fall soon after a thief stole their Shield of Virtue,”
A startled gasp escapes the lady, “Oh goodness!”
A strum to the minstrel’s lyre was soon accompanied by the end of a life. Of a Prince deemed too ideal for the world- doomed to live in a perfect one- one that would lead to his downfall.
To his death.
The hero frowns, as his hood shifted slightly to reveal his short blond hair. Pulling it further down, sharp green eyes looked at the hunter’s board from across the bar. Surely he would not be able to see so far, other patrons might’ve thought, had they noticed his strange presence.
Rook Hunt’s usually smiling face showed a slight look of frustration. Another dead end.
‘So the protector of the faerie’s holy domain was targeted as well.’]
Jade frowns as he sees the end of the chapter. Previous chapter, table of contents, and a grayed out next chapter.
It was almost mocking, the way Jade sees it. Through a song that barely touched the surface of the character’s presence in the story. It’s… an emptiness, that Jade’s uncertain of its reason.
Jade had always been far more invested in the main character- the protagonist and his morally dubious decisions: Everything he had wanted to find within fictional escapism. Someone who overly relied on effort rather than smarts- who messes up yet could adapt well enough to survive. Silver was not that kind of character. He was someone blessed from the start and so unwisely generous to the ones who surrounded him that it would lead to his downfall.
That didn’t mean Jade could not see how absurd it was to kill him. Even if it would have made the protagonist’s journey too convenient, would it not be better for the author to find elsewhere to place him- and even his death?
It broke the flow, it was absolutely arrogant to believe that it would be well received. A fan favorite as well someone who had held such prominence for so long.
“Jaade~” Came Floyd’s drawling voice, “Your phone looks like it’s about to snap, did someone say somethin’ stupid again?”
Catching himself, Jade smiles, “Yes.”
Quickly enough, Floyd glances over his shoulder with a whimsical curiosity to find him browsing articles on fungi and the like. Oh, the conveniences of being a mycologist. Watching with a teasing gaze, Jade sees Floyd’s expression fold into one of great dislike.
“Really?”
“Truly, the mysteries of fungi should not be held back by childish misinformation, Floyd.”
“That’s…” Face scrunching up, Floyd looks at him like he was being exorcized, “Your job, I don’t want to hear any of it.”
“C’mon, isn’t it really fascinating how-”
“No no no no, and no.” Floyd shoots down, “You’ve told me this before and I’m not listening anymore!”
Laughing lightheartedly, Jade lets himself forget the novel. It wasn’t anything serious after all.
As soon as the laughter stops, Jade keels over, and he finds himself at the edge of the beach (no longer comforted by a familial presence).
“I always thought the sand was annoying to walk on,” says Jade.
Jade watches as the biggest wave he had ever seen starts to climb. Climb higher and higher, as if it would devour the stars and moon.
It’s wonderful.
Jade watches himself as he presses play to a voicemail.
“Jade, this isn’t funny.”
Floyd’s voice chides, and in a rare turn of events, Jade is the chastised. Humming along to the inflections in Floyd’s voice, rather than turning away, he’d indulge in a childish whim.
He’s always hated running in the sand and the fact he’s never allowed himself to enjoy the improvisational arts that nature had to give to him.
A voice that was far more serious than it had been for years is surrounded by the roaring maw of the great beast of an ocean echoes,
“I’m sorry, are you mad you always have to go to me first when we fight? I promise I didn’t mean it, I just got overly excited.”
Jade can tell Floyd had written this all down. This did not make it any less genuine- if anything it verified how deeply this all meant to him- someone who was so used to the first take being the perfect one, to fumble over trying to make something better than his best? That's high praise.
“Please Jade, I’m sorry. You’re my brother, I love you.”
Rare words cried out as he can feel the tremble of emotion break into the message. It’s unfortunate that the world did not turn the way he wished. The sun breaks into the horizon, and the splash would be too much for Jade to bear.
Had he even run, would he even have the will to survive? Would he not only bring harsher grief to this dear brother of his?
Jade turns off his phone and a numbing pain hits- too sudden to be thought of and yet not harsh enough to be instantaneous.
He’s dying. Not once had Jade ever considered being an only child– not in a family so large. What Jade had considered was the sinister thought of: If he, the mild mannered one, was to disappear… If Floyd was the one to become just another child, and not part of a set of two, an instance where Jade wouldn’t have accompanied him throughout his life-
A twin would become one, no longer shackled by a mediocre double, finally allowing that brilliance to shine.
-
Jade vomits the moment he wakes up. A bed that was far more luxurious than the one in his shared apartment unit swallowed him as he struggled to find somewhere to dump his bile- and as if someone would predict as such he quickly finds a bucket at his convenience.
“I suppose that would mean you’re awake.”
“Prince Silver,” Jade replies.
“That would be I,” Silver affirms, “And I suppose you remember yourself now?”
Hardly. Jade complains.
“Yes, apologies for my great discourtesy.”
“I have a few questions for you regarding these recent events.”
Jade tries to maintain his composure as much as he could for someone who was struggling with the most intense bout of nausea before sitting up properly. Silver had long changed out of armor into far more casual wear, although he was still armed and lightly geared up with leather gauntlets. In a way, this highlighted his great nobility far better than those garments of significant value. (The contrast of an elegant demeanor that could not be taught to the slightly coarse and simple cloth. The ability to make the most common cotton spin into the finest silk. A Prince before he was even born.) Seeing the way Silver places his hand on the hilt of his sword, Jade regains a sense of danger.
“Please go ahead,” he says with great trepidation.
“I have an assumption I’d like to confirm with you,” he announced, “I’d like to posit that you don’t remember how you got into my holy domain, do you?”
Jade feels the sweat run down his back as he judges the options.
“I do not, you guessed correctly.”
“I figured as such, as my instincts hardly misguide me.”
A silence pursues.
“And other questions?”
“Are you Sir Jade?”
“I am Jade, yes.” Somehow, Jade gets the feeling that there was disbelief upon hearing those words. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“I find it difficult to think of someone who lacked some… critical aspects to be able to accomplish something so audacious as which you have done yesterday.”
Critical aspects? Would that be an underhanded insult or was it a genuine truth? Deeply encouraged by a certain inclination with the way Silver displayed himself, Jade makes an assumption.
“Yet you held enough uncertainty to still be able to treat me with courtesy.”
“I would sooner let a criminal live seconds in luxury over damaging the pride of a faraway kingdom due to a misunderstanding.”
Silver really was that sort of character. That noble way of thinking would kill him, soon. Jade lets his thoughts roll around within his head before trying to twist that into something far more complementary.
“You have a sort of idealistic view that few could possess, prince.”
“Do you hold ill intentions to my kingdom?” Came flying out of the prince’s mouth before either of the two could process it. Judging by the slightly widened eyes, Jade could tell it was a slip of the tongue. Instincts that were sharp enough to recognize the flavored words. Fighting down the urge to let his lips tilt upwards, he evened out his thoughts.
“I never even considered anything of the sort.”
The prince held an expression that was almost that of a petulant child trying to figure out why simplicity was not so straightforward. Perhaps, to him, Jade was a paradoxical puzzle
“You lie well, Sir Jade.” said the prince, “Do not take me for a fool, I am well aware that my method of truth-seeking may be tricked, but I am not so ignorant to rely on it so one-sidedly.
Jade pauses. A method of truth-seeking, he said.
“Wouldn’t it be harmful to imply I cheat, should I not lie?”
“Before, when we first received you as a guest,” the prince notes, “you didn’t lie once.”
“That's… bad?” Stunned, he looked at a judgemental gaze. “Wouldn’t it please you to not need your ‘methods’ to decipher my intentions?”
“I don’t feel the need to explain myself to you.”
Jade blinks slowly. As if mirroring him, the prince with crossed arms does the same. Snarky, if he didn’t know better.
“However?”
“However, I think there’s a larger catch at hand here. You don’t remember a lot of things, do you?”
Jade pauses. If anything was to be trusted- he trusted that a lie would do more harm than good at this point. With careful deliberation he gives out a plea,
“I am lost in this world, I believe. On who I am exactly– and how I ended up here.”
Seeing Silver’s intense and darkening expression, Jade wonders if being beheaded hurts less than an ocean's wave that weighs heavier than any possible sin.
“This is dire,” Silver notes before standing up. “In such an event, you will not be going back to your kingdom as planned.”
“Huh?”
“We have left everything in your room untouched as per our respect to the allegiance between our people, do you still remember how to write?”
“Yes- but wait, what are you asking of me?”
“I will be sending compensation and an explanation to your king as an apology. You’ll remain in higher protection until your memory returns. In good faith and not to overstep any lines, I have not searched your belongings- yet. ”
Upright and noble, and yet without a single good explanation for whatever his mind had come up with, the Prince leaves him in his room with a final closing statement. Jade’s brain was too cluttered trying to come up with anything besides desperate motions to figure out what was happening.
“In three rotations from now I expect to see you to continue to accompany me to meals as I organize you more guards.” Prince Silver declares, eyes lowering to flip an hourglass. “Should you need help I have left my own personal men outside your chambers.”
Watching the doors shut, Jade is stunned to silence.
Surely that went well. He hadn’t died yet, at least. Patting his chest, he finds despite feeling quite ill, his nausea has completely left him. Sliding out of bed, Jade notes his body being eerily similar to how it was when he was in his ‘real’ life, albeit a bit tougher skin than his lanky prior self. Patting himself down and seeing his reflection in the mirror, he could only feel shaky.
Now immediate threats had left the room, only panic could return to Jade.
He. He really did that. He went up to a fictional character and bullshitted his way into somehow staying alive. With a scattered memory as well, if it was not absurd enough. Jade had transmitigrated into his stupid male-power novel. Escapism was a fraud.
Quietly organizing his thoughts, Jade shuffled over to the desk where papers lied haphazardly. Somehow, he has the inclination that he wouldn’t find much on the identity he has taken here. Minister Jade. Surely that should’ve been a far prominent character, right? Finding blank paper and- god was that a genuine quill pen? If it hadn’t been Floyd’s brief stint into the craft of calligraphy, Jade would’ve wept seeing this. All of his useless mediocrity in scattered skills finally would have some sort of pay off after all this time.
Settling down, he sorts through the papers while the disarray within would settle into an uncomfortable thick dread.
There are a few things Jade could remember about the novel he had read.
- Silver would die soon after a thief steals the shield of Virtue.
- Rook Hunt would come to the Fae in the midst of a faerie and human war and cause great losses to the faerie side in order to retrieve potion materials.
- Silver could decipher truths from lies (possibly related to his fae-given artifacts)
Pausing there, Jade hesitates. Surely That couldn’t be all he had- while he didn’t take notes, he still had the ability to remember events vaguely. A piercing headache hits him. The sunken kingdom- the thief- a third party in the war—
A moment when the protagonist finally became involved with the main plot.
- Prince Silver dying was very, very, bad.
- He might be very deeply fucked if his assumptions are right.
Seeing a washbasin at the side of the bed, Jade sees it. An old looking journal that seemed like it had been soaked and dried in the sun— something meant to be illegible.
[ Rook exclaimed, “This is brilliant!”
The traveling merman scoffed and held out a hand. He did not bother to hide his great disdain to Rook’s idiocy for even being human, “It’s a secret to our race, it’s worthless to you anyways.”
“Right, right.” Rook hummed, barely listening as he examined the rather worthless looking book. “I hadn’t forgotten your payment.”
After skimming over seemingly blank pages, Rook handed over a bag dripping with what seemed like blood. If it smelt anything like fish, they would ignore such events.
From the corner of his eyes, Rook watches the merman shift and jump back into the ocean from the docks before pulling out a vial from his bag. Shimmering water swirled within and he laughed.
Bloodline magic— the solution was so dearly straightforward. If he was right, he now held proof for who the catalyst for the war was.]
Jade pricks himself with a pin and sees mythical blood drop into the water, red and yet something quite supernatural, it dropped into the bowl. As if electrocuted, the water lets sparks slide along its surface with a pearly sheen.
He drops the journal in, to only watch it unfurl like a desert flower that finally was graced with rain. A splendid sight that would only cause the scariest of revelations.
Jade’s stomach sinks as notes and observations reveal themself to him— innocuous until you know how invasive it truly was.
One good thing: Jade no longer needed to find the thief.
Bad news: Dinner would be served in two hours and Jade is sure he’s going to be served on a platter.