Archive of Our Own

Tao watches all of this from the treeline, hidden in the shadows of thick fronds, his jaw slack and his heart racing. Not daring to move until the crazed pródniy is out of sight.

The moment he’s sure Kolya’s far enough away, he dashes up the pathway to a clearing, whistles for his horse. It’s a struggle to mount while rushed, but the horse helps, craning her head over her shoulder to nudge his rear with her nose. With a strained grunt he hauls himself over, signalling her to move before he’s fully settled into place. He keeps urging the mare to gallop faster until her chest is heaving and her breaths harsh with exertion—which he feels a pang of guilt for, but it’s washed over with dread. What the hell had he just witnessed?

Hooves thunder down the winding footpath toward the main town; a slightly longer route, he won’t risk crossing paths with Kolya. The mare slows, and Tao stops cursing to squint his eyes at his surroundings. It’s way too dark. Up ahead, the flowers that normally light the pathways are disappearing, growing dimmer every second.

“What the—” Tao whispers in shock, then yelps when a branch scrapes across his cheek. “—Fuck, what the fuck?”

The mare comes to a halt, nickering softly in apology. When he pats her neck and tries urging her forward, she takes a shaking step, then stops again. Guess she’s blind in this, too.

“Okay. Okay…” He rubs his forehead and hops down to the ground, arms out to feel for the horse’s flank in the dark. As he soothes his palm from flank to neck, her tremors slow, and only when they stop does he grab the reins. Slowly, he guides them through the blackness, balancing himself with a fist full of mane every time he trips.

None of this is normal. The closer they get to the town, the more it chips at his chest. Lately, Rodina’s been behaving wrong—and all of it ties back to Kolya’s arrival. And now, that same psychotic pródniy has been released from a powerful container and the lights have gone out.

Tao releases his grip when they exit the forest’s shadows and there’s enough light to navigate by. Thankfully, the flowers around the main town are still lit. He mounts again and rides until the lights of the tavern are within eyesight.

Pulling the reins, the mare stops. Tao dismounts, sprints—best as he’s capable of—then stumbles through the tavern door and doubles over, desperately trying to catch his breath. The few inside all stop chatting at the disruption: Isak, Tara, El, Darya, and a small group of everyone else who’s unable to sleep right now.

Tao tries, but can’t get any words out. He gestures toward the door, then slams his palm back to his knee.

“Tao, Tao,” Darya chimes in from behind the bar. “Did you run here?”

Tao nods vigorously, gasping for air.

“You know horses exist, right?” Darya tilts their head to the side.

Glowering, Tao manages to eke out, “Shuddup.”

“What’s happened?” El asks, seated across from Isak at one of the tables.

“Dark, out—” Tao gasps, tries again. “Kolya—out.”

Isak immediately stands.

Darya barks out a single laugh. “Impossible, nothin’ busts through the shelters.”

“He didn’t, the vines did,” Tao says.

“Sure they did,” Darya responds sarcastically, then chugs the rest of their drink and slams the mug on the countertop. “Stubborn ox—fine, I’ll just tie him up again.”

“Tao.” At the corner of the bartop, Tara’s voice is barely audible. “Did you see where he went?”

“The heart.” Isak answers before Tao can. El takes a bundle of whithies from her bag, sets it on the table, then reaches across the table to grab Isak’s hand, and he meets her pointed gaze with worried eyes. Squeezing her hand, he says to Tao, “Do we have time to cut him off?”

Tao shuts his eyes and shakes his head. “Had to walk. Everything went—”

“Rod—again, Tao. Horses.” Darya clicks their tongue. “Well. Nothin’ we can do, then, if that's where he went.”

“You have to try,” El urges Isak in a whisper.

“Shit…” Isak breathes, readying himself, then grabs the rolled whithies and approaches the bar; smacks them down on the counter, drawing a long ‘uhm’ from Darya. “Best everyone stays here,” he says to all, then to Darya, “Let’s go.”

They stare at him. “...Into the heart. Really.”

Isak nods and turns away from Darya’s slack-jawed expression, heading for the door. He pauses at the doorframe, waiting. Outside, everything looks normal. But beneath the soil, Rodina moves strangely.

Behind him, Darya huffs, followed by a clamor as a glass hits the floor and a hurried apology to Tara, then Darya is bumping his shoulder, withies in hand.

“You know this’s insane, right?” Darya says as Isak leads them toward the heart. “Also pointless? We’re not allowed in there.”

“I know.” He quickens his pace.

Not to mention, they're probably…” they gesture lewdly.

“Dragan wanted him kept away. I promised, so we have to try.”

“I still don't believe he just got out. Tao musta been smokin’, or the door wasn't shut right,” they say, to which Isak hums non-committally. “That. You only make that sound when you know somethin’ you'll refuse to tell me.”

He says nothing, just smiles sadly, knowing they’re behind him and won't see it.

“It’s fuckin’ annoying.”

Isak pauses, observing. Listening. The garden’s gone blurry, and behind him, the flowers lighting the way extinguish one by one. His own shadow stretching ahead of him slowly fades. “You feel that, too?”

“Hmm? Feel what—” Darya stumbles with a crass swear.

The rest of the lights go dim then disappear, and he turns to face them. Though it's near-impossible to see in the dark. “...That.”

“What the fuck,” Darya hisses, distressed. For a brief moment, their eyes glow lilac before flickering away. They crouch down and whimper.

Isak reaches out to offer his arm, stomach lurching with dread. But he keeps his breaths steady.

They latch on and allow Isak to pull them upright, shaking. “How the fuck are you so calm?!”

“This is what outside feels like,” Isak explains.

“But we're inside.”

“I know. It's weird, but—”

“Understatement.”

“—but you can still see. And unfortunately, right now, I can't, so. Lead us there.”

“How? The ground’s wrong!”

“Darya, please,” Isak urges. “Rodina’s shrinking. What if she shrinks too far?”

That gets their attention. Darya curses, unravels the whithies partially, hands Isak one end and leads them toward the heart, where the flowers are near-blinding in their glow and all of Rodina is compressed into one inaudible yet deafening roar.