Unreachable

~Chapter Nine~

No one’s POV

Two Days Ago

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Eight people sat around a campfire that seemed infinitely useless, considering that it was the middle of the day. The whole group was discussing memories or something, and the one labeled Cultie just offered to restore a being named Hels’s memories. Wels, whose body was host to Hels, immediately agreed, and the two—three, if you consider it that way—disappeared into one of the vans. 

To say that the vans were not exactly small would be an understatement. Wels pressed a button on the inside of his, and the floor disappeared beneath them, sending Cultie sprawling in the air and letting out a shriek. It really was a shriek, too; it was almost inhuman. They landed on a platform of carpet-covered slime blocks. Wels hopped off with the gracefulness of someone who has done that hundreds of times, and Cultie stumbled forward with the gracefulness of someone who has done that zero times. 

“A little warning would have been nice,” Cultie muttered while fixing his hood. “Talk about a trust fall.” 

Wels laughed. “Yeah, but that would’ve ruined the fun! I have been waiting for a very long time to surprise everyone with that,” he said with a grin. He readjusted his helmet’s visor, which too had gotten displaced in the fall, and fixed it from covering his eyes. 

At his second sentence, Cultie perked up again. “Oh!” He exclaimed. “So it’s my understanding that you remember everyone?” 

Wels nodded. 

“Why?” He sounded like a child asking his mother why he couldn’t have a lollipop for dinner.

Wels responded with the same indignancy, “That’s the thing; I have no idea! All I know is that one moment, Xisuma was asking us to meet him somewhere for… something or another, and then the next minute, I’m here and no one recognizes me.” He led the two of them into a room with a few bits of furniture and sat down on a couch. Cultie remained standing. “I was genuinely starting to think I was just crazy until you lot showed up.” He chuckled half-heartedly.

“So, you weren’t…” Cultie paused for a moment. He began to drum his fingers on the back of a chair. “Are you sure you weren’t at Voi- Xisuma’s meeting?” 

Wels shook his head. “No,” he said instantly. “Hels was out for that, always wanting to be at the center of all the drama.” He leaned forward and propped up his head with folded hands. “Something must have happened there.”

A beat. “Yeah, probably,” Cultie responded. He was now rapidly drumming both hands on the back of the couch. “Seems to be one of the, ah, many mysteries you all have going on. Anyway, if you want to let Hels out and get this over w-”

Wels’s stare turned thoughtful. “Yknow,” he interrupted. “You really do sound like my friend Mu-”

“I think you should let Hels out now,” Cultie insisted, louder than the conversation’s volume. He now gripped the couch with both hands. His foot was tapping rapidly. 

As if Cultie’s breath was ice, Wels shivered. The way he demanded Wels to let him out seemed to unsettle the knight, as he perked up, eyes wide. “O-oh, yeah, right,” he said sheepishly. “That’s why we’re down here, not smalltalk. Hang on, gimme a minute.” 

Cultie’s grip relaxed. His nails had indented the back of the oak couch, leaving shallow gashes. If one listened closely, they might’ve heard him sigh. And then, of course, gasp when Wels suddenly slumped over. His feathered plume burst into flames like a phoenix rising from the grave, and it was almost as if the metal of his suit charred, giving it a smoky, grainy, dark finish. When he sat back up, his sapphire eyes now glowed with a fiery red, and his warm smile was now replaced with a scowl. He kicked his feet up onto a table and sat back, crossing his arms over his chest.