Remembrance

“My parents died in a fire.” She tells Luthor. They’re not supposed to be alone, together. But she cannot walk and Deceit trusts Luthor is a weird kind of way that no one else does.

At least, she thinks so, and that’s enough for Xavier, who’s gone further into the tunnel system to maybe, hopefully, find a way for them to get out. Merci doesn’t really like the quiet of caves, she decides. She can hear too much.

“Oh.” Luthor isn’t really talkative. In fact, he seems almost really uncomfortable with most people. But, she thinks, he’s humoring her.

She takes advantage. “It’s what Deceit tells me.”

“You weren’t there?”

“I...” She paused. Deceit trusts him, so she could too. Maybe. “I was. But I don’t remember anything clearly.”

“What do you remember?”

It was a simple question, but one that made Merci pause. She hadn’t really thought about it. No one really left her with the time to do so. Between Etna, Sage and Deceit, as well as the mismatched array of semi-permanent house guests, Merci never really spent too much time in her own head.

But maybe. Maybe that had been the point. There was silence for a long time. It was almost as if maybe Luthor didn’t expect a response. He just kept looking at her, studying her in a clinical sort of way.

“I... my jaw hurt.” She paused. “I couldn’t climb onto Ciet’s bed, but I was trying anyway. Pulling at the blankets. Deceit woke up, helped me.” Pause. “I must’ve fallen asleep. “

Luthor didn’t respond. Merci wasn’t sure he was listening. She didn’t need him to.

“It was warm, a blanket maybe? Someone was yelling, but I couldn’t see.” Pause. “I... I didn't want to wake up.”

Luthor looked back up. She took it as a sign to continue.

“The yelling didn’t stop. So-something smashed.” She was shaking. “Everything got really bright... Deceit...” Luthor touched her shoulder lightly, and Merci jumped. She hadn’t seen him move.

He didn’t say anything, only shed his jacket and covered her bared shoulders. In the low light, she could see the crisscrossed scars on his now-bare shoulders.

“She. She did something.” He nodded.

“Something old and dangerous.”

“Y-you know?” Merci was unsure of several things. His proximity, his knowledge. The way her sister trusted him.

“Guessed.” He sat down beside her, frowning at the wound on her leg. The blood had seeped through the bandages already, but there was nothing either of them could do about it. He leaned closer, so that their shoulders touched. It was warm, and Merci was uncharacteristically grateful of the gesture. “It doesn’t translate well, but there’s an old world legend of the Inecris.”

“Inecris?” She had never heard of them.

“Your people.” He paused. “The ones from the Old Islands, that settled on both sides of the divide.” Pause. “Not important.”

“The legend?” She prompted.

“Right.” He shifted a little, and a stray rock was thrown towards the opposite end of the cave, echoing as it hit something solid. “It’s said that the Inecris learned how to use the.. light? within, that we’re made out of. Even the small ones- they would, in times of great stress, would tap into that light without intention, and miracles would happen.”

“Miracles...” She repeated. Anything else Luthor was trying to say became lost in the thumping in her head, and echoing around her.

There was a flash of blue, and then she remembered no more.