“So, Litvir, what does Deathven want from us now?” Retvik growled as he dragged Arkay back on board and made his way to the cockpit.
“Deathven does not want anything. I wanted to get out of there, because Arkay is clearly struggling. Right, Arkay?”
Arkay silently nodded as he sat down, still in the shape of a Voidborn. He stared out of the main window, watching where his fellow… no… where the other Voidborns had gathered their ships. But he almost jumped somewhat as Litvir put his hand around Arkay’s. It felt weird. Arkay had more fingers currently. Four and a thumb. Litvir had three and a thumb. How many did Arkay normally have?
“My darling, you are fine. You can be yourself again.”
Arkay continued to stare out of the window, not sure how to answer. Litvir glanced at Retvik and telepathically told him to sit down next to Arkay and hold his hand too. Retvik did exactly that.
“Are you alright, Arkay?” Retvik asked as he sat himself down and twisted his seat round. He put one hand on Arkay’s shoulder and one on his wrist.
Arkay blinked, then turned to Retvik, almost inspecting him as if he didn’t know who Retvik was briefly. After a moment of thought, Arkay shook his head.
“I am worried for them. And I think I am slowly forgetting or confusing who I am.”
Retvik patted Arkay on the shoulder a few times. Litvir gripped Arkay’s hand tightly.
“Well, the good news is, that first thing is not an issue!” Litvir smiled kindly. “You have already saved them. They are beginning to learn the omniversal language, they have found a place where they can settle down and they have been given a duty that they will proudly carry out. And the Kathar will look after them now. They have a desire and a need to keep these Voidborns together and alive, even if it is partially for their own purposes. We have done all we can for them, and they will be better off. We just need to work on you, Arkay.”
Arkay closed his eyes and tried to sigh, but no air came out of him. He couldn’t even really speak, he wasn’t sure how he was talking with the mask around his mouth. Before he could say much else though, Retvik pulled him into a hug. A very warm hug, that felt nice against Arkay’s cold, metallic body.
“Litvir, can you get us moving, please?”
“Back to Savepoint, yes?”
“Yes. We need to go home, sleep in our bed together and be with our friends and family.”
“What if Deathven-”
Retvik tutted. “Screw Deathven. Arkay is tired and ill and we need to get him back on his feet before we do any more of these stupid secret mission things. Outside of translation, they barely needed us there anyway.”
“Well…” Litvir hesitated slightly as he did as he was told, getting the ship airborne and moving. “They somewhat did need us. I was constantly keeping a mind out on Kalek and his guards. Two of them were tempted to attack Arkay while his back was turned, and Kalek himself was routinely thinking about how he wanted to kill you and the youngling Voidborns.”
Arkay clicked in annoyance. “They were younglings. Only just out of Newlinghood. They did not know better.”
“They know better now, and we left them in good hands!” Retvik hugged Arkay some more. “Now we need to talk about you. We need to make you feel better.”
Arkay leaned against Retvik. “I feel so cold. I do not remember who I really am.”
“Let me warm you up then. And let Litvir remind you who you are. The amazing person that you are.”
Litvir checked the ship consoles and switched everything to autopilot, then scooted closer to Arkay, placing a hand on his cheek and ignoring how cold and metallic Arkay was.
“My dear, you are Arkay, you are our little lost third, our little yellow-plated guardian. Flesh, bone, love and kindness. We just need you to come back to us and to be yourself again.”
“What am I though?”
“You are you, you are Arkay, pretending to be a Voidborn. But this shape is temporary. You normally look like us but smaller and cuter and softer. And more yellow.”
“I… I am Arkay. I am not Statarkon.”
“You are not a Voidborn, not at all. You just currently look like one, because you can shapeshift!” Retvik smiled. Litvir glanced at Retvik, telepathically telling him that Arkay’s changes weren’t normal shifting, but Retvik shrugged, silently saying that Arkay didn’t need to worry about the differences right now. “You are our little Arkay. And we are your forever partners. Your angel and your demon, as you occasionally call us. Even if, for some reason, the person who is on fire is the one you call your angel.”
Arkay looked up at Retvik and found himself smiling at the silly observation. He opened his mouth to speak, but a yawn and a sign both came out. The realisation that Arkay could breathe made him snap back to reality, and, after a few moments, Arkay turned from Voidborn back into Synaisthyn.
“Ugh… I hate being me sometimes…” Arkay rubbed his eyes, then started to breathe normally. “Stupid mimic stuff…”
“Do not hate yourself, dear!” Retvik frowned slightly. “Hate your other forms, of course, but you are wonderful as you are.”
“Certainly don’t feel like that right now…” Arkay muttered as he stretched out his arms, then rubbed his hands together, feeling his natural, slightly clammy skin. “I think I need to lie down for a bit.”
“That is fine, Arkay!” Litvir smiled. “But take Retvik with you. Both of you go and lie down together. It will make you feel better, Arkay, as you are still a bit cold.”
“But… what about you?”
“I am fine. I will keep an eye on navigation for a bit, and Retvik and I will swap places later, once you have warmed up and settled down a bit.”
“Alright… good idea…” Retvik helped Arkay to his feet, then carried him away to the bedroom.
“Sleep well, dears!” Litvir smiled some more as he waved his partners off, glad that Arkay had somewhat managed to bring himself back quite calmly for once.