Chapter 462: Connotations (1/2)

A bird fluttered out of Humphrey’s jacket, then transformed into a puppy as it landed on the table and started pawing at the projector. Humphrey scooped him up and petted him gently.

“It’s alright, little buddy,” he cooed soothingly.

“That’s it?” Neil complained as the recording ended. “That didn’t tell us anything. I’m so glad he’s alive and I can go back to hating him.”

“Neil,” Humphrey scolded.

“What?” Neil asked.

Clive shook his head while Belinda snorted a laugh. Jory was contemplating the return of the crystal wash vampire while Sophie was looking shell-shocked. Humphrey reached out to her but she flinched away. He looked hurt and she winced apologetically.

“I…”

Sophie couldn’t get out any more words and left in a half-run. Humphrey moved to follow but Belinda placed a restraining hand on his arm.

“You’d do more harm than good at this point,” she told him. “She needs a friend, not… whatever you are.”

“I have to do something.”

“You had plenty of time to do something,” Belinda said, the barbs in her voice dripping venom. “If you'd mustered up some courage any time in the last two years then she wouldn't have been stuck between a ghost and a coward. Now the ghost is coming back, so it's time to give it up or rummage around those fancy pants and see if you can't dig out some balls.”

She snatched puppy Stash from Humphrey’s arms and marched off in Sophie’s direction, leaving a crestfallen Humphrey behind her.

Rufus and Gary were looking at one another as if asking for permission to hope. Seeing Jason alive was one thing, but hearing about Farrah without seeing her had a fearful unreality to it. They shared the fear of their hope being cruelly snatched away.

“Mr Standish,” Dawn said. “Perhaps you can join me for a lengthy discussion.”

Farrah groaned as she watched Jason go through a meditative sword dance. Again. They were on a terrace in Jason’s spirit realm, the rainbow lights of the world link washing over them.

“How long until we get back?” she complained.

“I told you that I don’t know,” Jason said, his smooth, graceful movements continuing uninterrupted. “If that changes, I’ll let you know.”

“Are you going to meditate all day, every day? I know training is important but you’re getting worse than Rufus.”

“I’ve been on Earth too long,” Jason said. “Standards are going to be higher than I’m used to and I have no intention of falling behind. It wouldn’t hurt you to do a little practise yourself.”

“Fine,” Farrah conceded. “At least change it up a bit, though. How about a spar?”

“As in a practise fight or a fizzy bath?” Jason asked.

“There’s a spa bath here?” Farrah asked, perking up.

“There can be,” Jason said. “How about we do both?”

Farrah was disoriented as she suddenly found herself standing in front of Jason in a wide-open duelling area. She looked down to find her Earth clothes had been replaced with a training gi.

“Did you use your tin-pot god powers to change my clothes?” she asked.

“Nope,” Jason said. “You were wearing that the whole time.”

Farrah conjured her sword.

“I’m going to enjoy this.”

Belinda walked through the dark outside the town, her way lit by a floating silver lantern shedding a clean, white-blue light that gave a refreshing feeling as its aura replenished her mana. This was Shimmer, her astral lantern familiar.

She found Sophie sitting on a rock on a small rise, staring up at the night sky. She sat next to her friend, leaning into her by way of greeting.

“I’m not looking to talk,” Sophie said.

Belinda passed Stash into Sophie’s lap and plucked a bottle of amber liquid from her storage space. She took a swig and handed over the bottle.

“Who said anything about talk?” she asked.

They sat in silence, passing the bottle back and forth as Sophie scratched the napping Stash behind the ears.

“I don’t… gods damn it,” Sophie said.

“I haven’t seen you in how long and that idiot still hasn’t done anything,” Belinda complained. “Humphrey’s an idiot.”

“He’s not an idiot.”

“You’re both idiots,” Belinda said. “Since when do you dance about instead of taking what you want?”

“You know since when,” Sophie said. “It’s like Jason has been sitting between us this whole time and now…”

Sophie took a big gulp, letting the silver-rank liquor burn her throat.

“And now he’s coming back,” Belinda finished as Sophie handed her the bottle.

“What do I do, Lindy?” Sophie asked, her voice uncharacteristically small.

“The thing about death,” Belinda said, “is that we don’t look back at things the way they were. We tell ourselves the stories we want to remember and act like they're real memories. After a while, we forget that they aren't.”

“What are you saying?”

“That he’s coming back and it’s not about the stories anymore. I knew Jason better than you, Soph, because I wasn't tied up in nine kinds of mess the way you were. You hated him, and then you… I saw what he was, Soph, while he was always one story or another to you, even before he died. You thought too little or too much of him and never what he really was.”

“Which was what?”

“Some guy. He was kind of amazing and kind of a turd, but he was just some guy. But now he's some myth in your head and you can't expect him to live up to that.”

“I don’t seem to be coming off well in this description,” Sophie said, taking the bottle back.

“You weren’t in a well place, Sophie. And Jason never really knew you, either. You spent your whole life building a fortress and he was long gone before you took it down. He was going through his own stuff, too. If you think either of you are the same people you were then you're deluding yourself.”

Belinda pushed herself off the rock, wobbly with drink.

“In the end, Humphrey and Jason don’t matter,” she said. “It’s about you. Be who you are. Make sure you’re chasing what you want and not what you think you should want. That will only hurt everyone, yourself most of all.”

Belinda staggered off into the darkness in the vague direction of the town, her familiar bobbing after her.

“What if I’m already hurt?” Sophie whispered.

“…which is why Jason’s return to our world will trigger the monster surge,” Clive concluded. Some of the villagers had stopped to listen in with initial fascination, only to drift away as Clive started explaining astral magic to the group.

“Did the explanation have to be that long?” Neil asked. “The monster surge isn’t happening because of a bad magic thing that some stupidly powerful whatever made. Jason, being Jason, heard ‘stupidly powerful,’ immediately decided to annoy it and blew up its magic thing. Now the monster surge is back on, with a bonus invasion, and Jason’s coming here to probably get us all killed.”

“I wouldn’t characterise that as entirely accurate,” Clive said.