Side Story (3) - Chapter 7
Sable sat in her dimly lit room, the familiar hum of her PC providing a comforting white noise as she hovered over her phone, the weight of the moment settling over her. The morning light filtered through her curtains, casting soft rays across her desk, but the usual warmth felt different today—charged with the quiet resolve that had grown since her conversation with Raxian. He wasn't here now; they'd already talked it over, and he'd left her to handle this next part on her own, knowing she needed to do it without leaning on anyone.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened her contacts, glancing down at the small list of names on her screen. Milo, Fayne, Raze… and Solace. Each name held its own story, its own weight, and now she was reaching out to them, asking them to gather, to trust her—maybe even to trust each other. She hesitated on Solace's name for a beat longer, feeling the weight of Raxian's lingering caution, but then she took a breath, steadying herself. If they were going to face Zenith, they'd need every ally they could find, even if it meant accepting someone as elusive as Solace.
She glanced at the message draft she'd prepared:
"Hey. I want to talk. All of us, together. In person. There's a lot going on, and we need to be ready for it. Let's meet at the café near my place tomorrow, 4 PM. I'll explain everything then."
Reading it over, she felt the significance of each word. There was no fluff, no ambiguity—she was asking them to show up, to trust her. To trust each other. Her finger hovered over the "send" button, a sudden, almost overwhelming rush of self-doubt creeping in.
Was she ready for this? Her hand tensed around the phone, her gaze drifting toward the corner of her desk, where an old photograph of her and her dad sat in a simple, worn frame. She focused on his steady, reassuring smile, grounding herself in the memory. Her father had always told her she was stronger than she realized, that one day she'd be able to lead her own path. This was that moment, or something close to it. She knew, deep down, that she couldn't let her past define her, nor could she let the memory of Lynx's attack keep her from taking control.
With a final, grounding breath, she pressed "send." One by one, each message left her phone, vanishing into the digital ether. It was a small, decisive act, but it carried a weight she hadn't felt in a long time—a strange, fierce blend of purpose and vulnerability. It was as if, with each sent message, she was reclaiming a piece of herself, asserting her own strength in a way that felt both unfamiliar and exhilarating.
As the messages marked "delivered" on her screen, she leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment and letting the quiet seep in. She didn't know how they'd respond, but she knew that whatever happened next, she wouldn't face it alone.
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Fayne strolled through the bustling mall, letting the hum of laughter and conversation around her drown out the undercurrent of worry she'd been carrying. She was with familiar faces—Leah and Mira up ahead, deep in discussion over a pair of sunglasses, while Ryan and Agnes ambled along, occasionally cracking jokes that had the others rolling their eyes and laughing. It felt almost nostalgic, hanging out with them like this, slipping into the easy rhythm of inside jokes and shared memories.
"Fayne, come on, we need a tie-breaker!" Leah called, waving her over with a pair of glasses in each hand. Fayne started to head over, laughing, but the soft vibration in her pocket pulled her attention away.
Pulling out her phone, she glanced down at the message from Sable, her eyes skimming over the words:
"Hey. I want to talk. All of us, together. In person. There's a lot going on, and we need to be ready for it. Let's meet at the café near my place tomorrow, 4 PM. I'll explain everything then."
A small smile played at her lips, a spark of something almost like relief settling in her chest. Sable wanted to meet up—to talk things out. After everything that had happened, Fayne was glad that Sable was taking this step, was ready to bring them all together. If anyone could, it was her.
"What's that smile about?" Mira's voice broke through her thoughts as she peered over Fayne's shoulder, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. Fayne quickly pocketed her phone, shaking her head with a lighthearted shrug.
"Just Sable," she replied, her tone casual but warm. "She wants to meet up tomorrow—has something important to talk about."
"Oh, are you two still hanging out?" Leah asked, her tone more playful than serious. Fayne had been MIA from their friend group for a while now, caught up in her own world and in everything going on with Sable, Raxian, and the others.
"Yeah, we're still close. She… she's been through a lot," Fayne replied, her tone softening as her mind drifted back to Sable's recent struggles. She hesitated, glancing over at Ryan and Agnes, who were browsing the nearby racks, before continuing. "Honestly, I'd do anything for her. If she wants us to meet, I'll be there."
"Same old Fayne, always loyal to a fault," Ryan chimed in, grinning as he looped an arm around her shoulders. "But hey, it's nice to see you like this. Happy, I mean."
Fayne nudged him playfully but felt the truth of his words settle somewhere deep inside. It had been a long time since she'd felt this connected, both to her friends and to herself. And now, Sable's message felt like the first sign that things were coming together, even if just a little.
"Alright, Miss Fayne," Agnes teased, holding up a ridiculously bright hat, "you can help us with shopping, but we'll let you go play hero tomorrow."
They laughed, the moment light but laced with Fayne's own private sense of anticipation. She felt a strange sort of pride, knowing Sable had trusted her enough to reach out, and tomorrow, she'd be there—no questions asked.
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Milo walked slowly, hands in his pockets, his gaze drifting over the leaves swirling along the sidewalk. The air was crisp, carrying the unmistakable bite of autumn, the warmth of summer now fully gone. It felt… nice. Normally, he would have been inside, surrounded by the familiar hum of his setup, but today, for reasons he couldn't fully explain, he'd wanted to go out.
Fayne's words from their last conversation echoed in his mind, soft but clear, like she was still there beside him.
"Sometimes, stepping outside isn't just about being outside—it's about giving yourself room to breathe, Milo. You deserve that."
He hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now, as he strolled along, he felt lighter somehow, even a little more open to… whatever this moment was.
The soft beep of his phone interrupted his thoughts. He fished it out of his pocket, his brow furrowing as he saw Sable's name on the screen. A message.
"Hey. I want to talk. All of us, together. In person. There's a lot going on, and we need to be ready for it. Let's meet at the café near my place tomorrow, 4 PM. I'll explain everything then."
Milo paused, reading the message twice, a flicker of surprise settling into something deeper. Sable wanted to talk. Not through text, not online—face-to-face, with all of them. He felt a tug of worry, knowing how much it must have taken for her to reach out like this. Sable had been through hell, and though he'd kept tabs on her, he knew she hadn't been ready for much.
But if she was reaching out, it meant something had shifted for her, too.
He took a breath, glancing around at the street, the quiet moments unfolding around him. It was strange, being here, having made this small decision to step outside. And now, another choice lay before him—a meeting that could change things, one way or another.
The familiar hesitation clawed at him, that urge to keep things simple, stay on the sidelines. But he couldn't ignore this, not after being part of the search the last time Sable disappeared. He'd done his part, and maybe that should have been enough, but something deeper nagged at him. He knew he needed to follow through.
"I'll be there," he typed back simply, pressing send before he could second-guess himself.
Tucking his phone away, Milo resumed his walk, a quiet sense of purpose settling in. Tomorrow, he'd show up—not just for Sable but for himself too. And for once, that thought felt right.
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Raze leaned back from his easel, taking in the rough strokes of his oil painting. The colors were vibrant, but there was a certain darkness in the undertones, reflecting the mix of emotions that had filled his mind lately. Wiping his hands on a cloth, he barely noticed his phone vibrating in his pocket, preoccupied with thoughts of the past months.
Class ended, and he joined his classmates for a quick bite, his mind only half in their chatter as he washed the paint from his hands. While they walked, he finally pulled his phone out, the message from Sable catching his eye.
Seeing her name pulled him back to that haunting memory—Sable dangling helplessly, Lynx's grip suffocating her, every second draining her strength. That image had seared into his mind, something he doubted he'd ever shake. But here she was, not even a week later, taking a stand despite her trauma. Somehow, Sable had managed to reignite a spark within herself—a motivation she'd been missing for months.
And if she could take this step, so could he. He'd be there for her.
As his thoughts drifted to Solace, his grip on the phone tightened. He'd given Sable Solace's contact info when she'd asked, hoping it could bridge some sort of connection between them. A chance for understanding, or maybe even trust. Would Sable really reach out? It was hard to say, but all he could do now was hope—hope that this step would bring them all closer to what they needed to face together.
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Solace sat at a sturdy wooden desk in the quiet, sunlit room, the faint scent of dried herbs and pressed leaves filling the air. Across from her, her instructor, a patient, older man with a wiry build, was looking over her notes with a hint of approval.
"So, Solace," he began, tapping one of the open pages in front of her, "if you had a small patch of woodland available, which three plants would you prioritize for their medicinal properties, and why?"
She tilted her head thoughtfully, fingers grazing the notebook. "St. John's wort, for its calming effects… yarrow, because of its versatility for wounds… and probably elderberry for immune support. They're resilient plants too, easy to maintain and harvest."
Her teacher nodded with a smile. "Good choices. Practical, and with a wide range of uses. You've clearly put thought into this."
As the lesson concluded, Solace thanked her instructor and packed up her notes. She pulled out her phone, intending to jot down some final observations, but her eyes caught a new notification: a message from an unexpected name—Sable.
Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't anticipated this. The message was simple: Sable had invited her to meet tomorrow. Solace's fingers hovered over the screen as her mind raced. Was this Raze's doing? Had he passed along her contact information?
For a moment, doubt crept in. Did Sable feel obligated to invite her, just because of Raze's influence? The idea left her conflicted; if she was going to become part of their circle, she wanted it to be her own doing, her own actions that earned their trust. Not by default.
But beneath the questions and caution, she felt a faint hope. A chance to show them her intentions—without Zenith, without the tangled loyalties that came with it. And yes, there were secrets she still held close, a complex web of motives that hadn't yet surfaced. But whatever happened tomorrow, she would be there. For now, she'd listen to what Sable had to say, and see where this delicate step forward might lead them both.
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Raxian leaned against the arcade machine, the flashing lights casting an array of colors across his face as he took a deep breath. His friends, absorbed in their respective games, were laughing and tossing playful jabs back and forth, their carefree energy filling the room. It was exactly the distraction he'd hoped for—somewhere he could unwind, push the ever-lingering worry about Sable to the back of his mind.
He hit the buttons with a focused determination, his eyes on the screen but his thoughts elsewhere. Sable had insisted on having some space today, and he had told himself over and over that he needed to respect it. She was safe at home, away from the prying eyes of anyone connected to Zenith or, more importantly, from Lynx. There was no way he could reach her within the sanctuary of her home, especially with the security measures he'd double-checked himself. Besides, she had promised him she wouldn't step outside alone, and he trusted her to keep that promise.
Yet, the reminder of the meeting tomorrow tugged at him, especially with Solace involved. His mind kept looping back to it, even as he forced himself to focus on his game, punching and kicking in rhythm to the game's soundtrack. Solace's place in their group was still a gray area for him. He knew Raze trusted her, believed in her motives, but Raxian couldn't shake his unease. There was something about her guarded nature, the way she played her cards close, that always made him feel like he was missing part of the bigger picture. And the risks that had come with her presence… well, they weren't risks he wanted Sable near.
But this was Sable's call. She'd been through enough and had earned the right to make her own choices, and he'd promised himself he would support whatever she decided. After everything, if she believed she was ready to face Solace, to trust her, then he would respect that. For her sake, and maybe even for Raze's, who'd quietly but unmistakably been hoping he'd warm to Solace.
"Yo, Rax, you good?" one of his friends called out, snapping him back to the present as his character on screen took a hit. Raxian forced a grin, shaking off the tension.
"Yeah, just… thinking about tomorrow. Big plans," he replied, shrugging as he threw himself back into the game, his determination renewed. Tomorrow would come, and he'd be there for Sable, standing beside her, no matter who else was in the room.