Mari softly hummed to herself as she tenderly ran a comb through Sunny's hair. With care that she would only express for her perfect little brother, she worked out the unevenness of his hair, styling it in the familiar way she remembers.
She handled him reverently, as if a mere twitch in the wrong direction would ruin him utterly.
He was her masterpiece. Utterly and absolutely. An unfinished one, yes, but once it was...?
She sighed to herself, staring at the mirror that reflected the listless boy.
...He may as well have been a ghost.
No hard or definite lines, he was just as young as the day he left her.
Shadows made a wispy and surreal scene of a pale, empty boy who serenely sat beneath the protective shade of his elder sibling. His pale skin nearly indistinguishable from her own silver locks of hair that splayed beneath her, look closely and one could see the traces of purple streaking through it, a distant memory of a childhood wasted.
Had they been a painting, they were the beautiful specters, the macabre subject of this hallowed place.
She stares into his eyes. Empty. Cold. Unfeeling.
This was not her little brother.
But soon, it would be.
She just needs more time.
Yes, just a little more time.
Ever so softly, she laid a kiss on the top of his forehead, just like she used to do. Once more, in her obsessive trance, she began brushing again, making sure that her little brother was ever so flawless.
She has given so much for this, taken so much for this.
She'll fix her mistake.
And then, and only then, when the light returns to his eyes, when she has made sure that the both of them will outlast the stars themselves, only then, will everything be okay.
Her hand glides through shelves of books she has collected and...appropriated for her own use.
She stops at one, taking the black tome from the shelf. A faint mark lightly glowed from the place she took the book from, and faded softly.
She walks back to a large desk, filled with papers and stacked books. Complex circles written in very fine handwriting, words inscribed in an eldritch language that hurts to stare at.
She set the book down and opened to a page. Her study begins anew, referencing each lead she has, her mind outperforming a supercomputer.
From ancient civilizations, to urban sprawls, her servants combed through every dark corner of the earth, in search for secrets. Knowledge. Power.
She needs it.
...Hm. With the little contact she maintained with the outside world, she heard news of a rising increase in paranormal and cryptid sightings.
Mari would have laughed, had she still the reason to do so.
Her emotions had already been shot upon the death of her dearest Sunny.
And when she took the mantle of lichdom...
Everything was...tiresome.
Long ago, a deep fear took root in her mind upon this realization. She fears that once she brings Sunny back and holds him close, she would be unable to feel the warmth of his touch and smile.
It has kept her up many nights, even if her body no longer needed sleep.
She hears the creaking of the wooden doors behind her, and the sound of hard clacks on wood echoed throughout the great library she carved out for herself.
She extended a hand without looking at the source, and cup filled with an exotic tea was placed into her dainty grip.
Upon completion of its task, the reanimated skeleton walks out the library, leaving its mistress to continue her dark arts.
Mari tears her gaze away from the book.
For a moment, let her have this small peace.
Let her pretend everything was normal, as she took small sips.
...
She has been alone for so very long.
She's long since cut contact from everything and everyone she knew.
They wouldn't understand her.
They didn't understand her when she screamed that it was her fault.
They didn't understand her when she locked herself away from everyone, why she was so afraid.
They didn't understand her when she began to go out late in the night, looking more tired and pale each day.
They didn't understand her when she dug him out of his grave, why he was never supposed to be there, not when he was still so young.
Not when they still had so many memories to make.
They didn't understand her when she went missing for weeks, when the news of the graverobbing was finally brought to light.
They didn't understand her when they eventually found her, fussing over his body, wiping each bloody stain with wet rags, meticulously pulling out every filthy maggot she saw, desperately trying to restore but a fraction of her perfect little brother.
They didn't understand the circles she drew with her blood, the sacrifices she was willing to make.
They cast her out.
And as she ran, she carried his beautiful body.
Amidst the trees, screams of "Give him back!" and "Stop!", storms and rivers.
She can never go back. She didn't want to. They were dead to her.
Dead.
Dead. Her hands shake, whether in trauma of her greatest mistake, or in stifled anger of the people she thought that would understand her the most.
Dead, dead, dead. They kept telling her, and she refuses to agree.
He wasn't dead, he wasn't dead, he wasn't dead, he wasn't dead, he wasn't dead, he wasn't dead.
Sunny is not dead.
He's right here. With her. Locked away from the cruel outside. Forever safe in her arms.
It's not him, not fully. Not yet.
No matter.
Sunny was here. By her side. As he always should.
But not complete, not yet, soon, she reminds herself.
Even if it took years, centuries, millennia, more, she had all the time in the world. So much time.
Had she gone mad...?
Perhaps.
Perhaps.
...
She wonders what her family and friends would think of her now.
She wonders, if they, for a second, looked past at the gruesomeness of her actions, would they have joined her in her quest?
She discards the question, shelving it with the other regrets she had in the back of her mind.
Never is the time to mourn, to grieve for past mistakes.
After all, if all goes well, if she had her way...
She will never mourn again.
She placed him down softly on the ground, sitting on the little cushion she had prepared in this ritual room.
She tenderly ran a thumb across his cheek, before she stood up and walked away.
Sitting across the boy who did nothing but soullessly stare forwards, she stared back.
The circle drawn in blood around her throbs and quivers, filled with an unseen power.
She mutters a four-word incantation, and closes her eyes.
Concentrating this hard has become a menial task to her, but one that she so willingly lowers herself to.
After all, it was the only way she could see the thing that keeps her sane.
To her, the world around fades to black.
A few moments pass, and a large bright orb reveals itself in front of Mari.
She opens her eyes, and leans forward, eager to see her little brother.
There he is. Sitting on a comfortable couch, bathed in golden light, casually watching the cartoons that lit the creative spark in his brain like no other.
Mari immersed herself at the sight of his face, how expressive and heartfelt it was in comparison the husk she dealt with daily.
She saw a version of herself, younger, normal, carrying a plate of sandwiches a glass of juice.
She watched them as they peacefully lazed the day away, engaging in small tidbits of conversation.
She looked at how happy they are.
She wanted that back.
This was Sunny's dream.
His fleeting consciousness, a fading soul tethered with desperation and infernal magics, all for a little more time.
This was the thing she worked so hard for. The light in the dark that she grabbed when she awakened to the might of death.
It was her only chance, with a stroke of luck and an exertion of her new power, she snagged the soul of whatever comes after.
She was certain she had angered something back then. To this very day, she does not care.
And in the many years she toiled to find a way, she felt herself grow sad over the little soul of the most precious person in her life.
It was...static. Unfeeling.
And it wasn't until she tapped deeper into the arcane that she found the reason.
His soul was...asleep for a lack of better term. Inert.
It needed a spark. A dash of color that would ignite the mind.
An active, thinking consciousness was necessary for the resurrection.
And so, spending even more years in research, she found a way.
Dreams. It was perfect, in a way. Had not her little Sunny always been the most imaginative boy? His dreams filled with vivid fantasies she would have trouble concocting?
It was made for him, in a way. And soon, she was well on her way to crafting entire worlds in what remains of his mind.
The first test was unsuccessful. She tried to manifest a simple grassy plain. Nothing.
The second, third and fourth failed as well, not a single reaction from the inert soul.
And it was only when Mari chose to bring forth a fond memory that something did happen.
His 12th birthday.
She swore for the first time in so long, she wept in utter joy as once more she saw his beaming face as he blew out the candles, as he snuggled into that large present box with her cat.
She nearly made a big mistake that day, so desperate to hold him again, she tried to breach this dream.
And when she felt something crack, she reeled in utter horror.
Her joy quickly fell into despair as for the first time, she realized just how fragile a soul can be.
No matter. Maybe she doesn't deserve him yet, not after what she had done.
Yes, that's it. This is a punishment to herself.
For she was the one who stole his life, it would only make sense that she suffers, watching him live a false, but happy life, compared to her very real and miserable existence.
When she brings him back, she can work on forgiveness.
If he wants to of course. Sunny doesn't NEED to forgive her...she just wants him back, that's all!
That's all she wants.
Really.
...?
The Sunny inside the dream asks a question that her dream self cannot answer.
Mari frowns. She knows where this is going. It has been happening with odd frequencies, sometimes it doesn't, sometimes it persists.
"...Mari? Where's everyone else?"
With those words, she clenched her hand into a fist, and the orb went dim.
...
He does not need to remember.
He's better off without them.
He would understand. Sunny always understands, listens. Always. Not like them.
She draws on a distant memory, when Sunny showed her the little scribbles he made in his sketchbook, of the vivid fantasies of adventure and exploration he so dearly loved.
With a soft smile on her face, Mari weaved yet another dream, one where they would be play together, forever she hopes.
She was getting closer. She knows it.
She will not be denied her dream.
"And then..." She reads out softly.
A small giggle follows.
She sits in her favorite recliner near the fireplace; a young boy sitting on her lap as she read out one of her novels. A distraction for what is to come.
"They lived happily ever after! The end."
“…I didn’t know you were into really sappy stuff, sis…” The boy answers. Mari breaks into a fit of giggles.
“Hey now! Nothing weird about a little sweetness.”
“It’s a bit weird…” Sunny softly replies with a small smirk.
Her face explodes into a warm smile as another fit of giggles overcome her.
She leans down, wrapping her arms around him as he clung to her body.
Her heart aches as she clutched him, embracing him as if her life depended on it. It might as well have at this point.
It hurts so badly.
The last time she got to hug him was...
“…How are you holding up here Sunny? Good?” She asks, holding back her emotional state. He nods slowly.
“Good! Good... “
Slowly, Mari closes the book and the two of them are left in silence save for the crackling of logs.
Her smile softens somewhat as she looks down at him, her eyes softly watering.
She thought this would be easy for her. She thought she could feel no more.
She was so very wrong and it hurts so much.
Sunny rests his head on her shoulder and she reciprocates.
“I miss you.” She spoke; her voice cracks just the smallest amount.
She wonders how long Sunny can handle this false reality, now that he was aware of it.
Another fear to add, she grimly muses.
“…I always look forward to seeing you so much, even if…even if it...” Sunny softly admits.
“I know,” She replies, softly grasping one of his hands in hers. “I know…”
“I wish I could be there for you...”
“D-Don't worry, you know I’m working on it! I've...I've made so much progress, but…just…more time…” She trails off.
As she starts to sniffle, Sunny fully wraps his arms around her.
She can just barely register the warmth of his body.
It takes a lot to hold herself together.
“Mari, please. You’re…you can't keep doing this to yourself. It's—“
“Don't. Don't say whatever it is you're going to say. Unless it's something positive, I don't want to hear it, Sunny.”
“Mari,” He began, he reached out and held her face with his soft hands.
She stares him in the eye as she grits her teeth, utter anguish clear on her face as she continues to cry, holding back sobs.
“I-I don't like seeing you like this. It’s…It's not worth watching you do this...Look at yourself, please. You look like you’re going to fall apart and—“
“What am I supposed to do, then?!” She yells, breaking down completely. She clings to the light of her life as she weeps, sobbing into his shoulder.
“I-! I’m so close! I know I am! Y-you know I’m doing everything I can! S-Searching everywhere, I-!”
“But what about you?” Sunny cuts in, his voice was wavering, struggling to stay composed. "You can't handle the stress of this anymore, Mari...W-what if something goes wrong? What if…what if you di-”
“DON’T SAY THAT WORD!” She screeched as her sobs reached a new intensity, a mad glint in her eyes as she forcefully grabs Sunny’s face.
The room around them flickers for just a moment.
Time is running out.
“NEVER. NEVER SAY…that…word…” Her voice trails off as she takes in the expression of her little brother.
Fear.
Despair.
Tears.
She was shouting at him.
Again.
No.
Please. Not again. No, no, no.
She despondently presses her forehead against his. Her voice devolves into incoherent sobbing and mumbled apologies.
“M-Mari…” Sunny tearfully whispers, clinging to her.
He feels so distant. Again.
"I don’t want to let you go…” She manages to croak out.
…
“I'm not letting you go…”
…
“I won’t let you leave me…”
…
“I won't stop until you're back…”
"Sunny…" She’s slipping. She can't hold on much longer. "PLEASE…please understand…"
“Just a bit more...j-just a bit more! You'll be back soon, I promise, then—“
Darkness swallows her.
Her eyes shoot open.
She looked around. She was back in her ritual room, the complex circles and scrawling on the ground have greatly increased to accommodate this new purpose.
Gone is the familiar living room.
Gone is the warmth, the comfortable chair.
Gone is Sunny.
She stands up. A clench of her fists. Sickly amber lighting her eyes, the proof of her power.
The night gets darker as her anger washes over her, and the undead servants scattered throughout her empty lair shivered, the anger of their mistress bringing back an emotion they had thought they had long forgotten.
The fear of death.
A hitching gasp escaped her, like a dry sob, and she shivered hard.
He was in her arms, and then he was gone, and as he faded, yet again, she repeated her mistake, letting her emotion cloud her judgment.
She hated this. She hated this. She hated this.
She hates herself so much.
The fear in his eyes...He was not supposed to look at her like that.
Mari inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying her best to calm down, to smother the rage before she does something she'll regret.
In. Out. In. Out.
...
With her mind partially cleared, she supposes this counts as her victory, in a way.
The resurrection. She was so close.
Mari stares at the immaculate body of her little brother, lying down on the floor surrounded by arcane sigils. As always, he blankly stared forward, ever cold to the world.
The body was ready. Every inch of his flawless flesh painstakingly sculpted and molded by her. The body will never age. And once the ritual was complete...He will never die.
Perfect, just like her.
Mari thinks back to the interaction she had with Sunny in his dream.
The mind was ready. His consciousness was fully ablaze now, memories made whole, streams of thought starting and stopping properly. His mind will grow to such heights when he is finally brought back, he'll comprehend such insights that befits her perfection.
Perfect, just like her.
All that was left now...was the soul.
Oh, his soul, so pure, so bright, so warm...
So very fragile.
It was only recently that she was able to perform successful breaches into the dreams she wove. It began small, whispering words and sentences into his ears.
And when she was finally able to manifest...
She held him tight and never let go, even as the dark swallowed her then, and brought her back to the waking world.
The soul was fickle. But everything can be fixed.
Under her hands, her necromantic work, nothing will fade away.
She closes her eyes, and visualizes that pure white orb that was Sunny's soul.
It was getting brighter.
It was working.
Mari madly grins to herself, pride and satisfaction that all her hard work was never for naught.
She was in the right, and they were in the wrong for giving up so easily, for letting a paltry thing like death stop them.
She can't wait.
Finally, everything was going to be okay.
Mari couldn't help but examine her face every time.
She had ceased aging so very long ago, her youthful appearance maintained by her power.
She reaches up and brushes her hair. She has to look her best.
The art of sculpting flesh was the first of many proficiencies she took hold of. What worth would bringing Sunny back if he remained a rotting corpse?
Blood magic. Fleshsculpting. It came naturally to her, like art, she wove with life itself. And when she took up undeath to prolong her existence, she compounded all her knowledge and power to retaining her form, making sure that her body will never decay, unlike the liches of old.
She would later use the same magic to mould her little Sunny. He too, should be perfect after all.
It was only natural that the older sibling wants the best for their younger sibling.
It was cold.
Not to blame just the nasty, bone-chilling Northwestern wind or it being the cusp of November, or her habit of dressing somewhat light -- it was a lack of human warmth that was felt particularly sharp, both physically and spiritually.
They were gone. All gone.
She cut off all contact long ago, it was necessary. Mercy upon the thing that dares to disturb her work.
No one will ever find her, she was an expert at anti-tracking wards, had to be, with her line of work.
She can already imagine a mob clamoring at the gates, guns and hatred wielded in fear of her.
Magic was built on awful trades, like paying a healthy tooth to cure your flu, and you needed a good reason to make the most of them.
There was, of course, a reason she was doing all of this in the first place, and not one she would explain freely.
Partly because of its absurdity.
Partly because the explanation might make someone empathize with her.
Partly because of the fact that if they knew of what she could do, they would selfishly try to take away all her hard work.
And she would need to, because how else would she answer the awful questions that would have been asked sooner or later?
What were you doing back then?
Why didn't you call for help immediately?
Why were you so slow?
Why weren't you at the funeral?
Why?
Three letters and a question mark.
She dares not answer. They wouldn't understand, she reaffirms to herself.
She continues brushing, some parts of her now silver hair reveal faded purple streaks.
She thinks that should be important to her. A memory that she should not have cast aside.
But she remembers faintly, that Sunny was not in that memory, therefore it was useless.
Sunny. Oh Sunny.
His eyes, filled with light.
His skin, warm and smooth.
His voice, ambrosia for her ears.
He is in front of her eyes whenever she closes them, and she sleeps with her eyes open because she is not worthy.
Sorrow gnawing at his bones.
He died with regret.
She lives with regret.
No. This was not a life. Not without her Sunny.
Horrible little conjuring.
She considered quitting once, when she was yet to discover the dark side of the world she was born to.
But she didn't.
It would be unfair to end so easily.
It would be fair for her, of course, to never find him again, but that was not about her, she owed an explanation and an apology.
Atonement is not a rational impulse.
Brush, brush, brush.
Soon.
Soon.
The grandfather clock next to her chimes.
Midnight has come. It was time. She put the brush back on the table and stared at her reflection in the mirror.
A long white blouse.
Long straight silver hair. Streaks of purple.
Pallid skin. Eternal.
Eyes that glowed with malevolent power.
Perfect. No more time to waste.
She walked down a long dark corridor, purpose clear in her gait.
Her servants marched behind her, carrying regents and artifacts she would need for this promised day.
Her servants. Empty shards of nothing, made for labor and nothing more.
They were death row inmates that she abducted for her experiments. When her first familiars were nothing more than living shadows.
She...was not a complete monster. Surely someone would agree with her.
She did something right. None of them were innocent. None of them were deserving of rest.
Yes. She was in the right.
The door opens to that familiar room.
Occult circles and scrawlings, from floor to wall.
Sigils of arcane might pulsed with an unseen power.
The moon shined bright, brighter than it should be.
This will take time. Time that she will so willingly give.
Stride forth.
Mari stared at the lifeless body lying in the center of a massive intricate circle. Immaculate.
Mari peers into his mind, a lovely splash of churning colors that refused to cease. Flawless.
Mari holds his soul, a light in the dark, that casts away all her fears and doubts. Perfect.
The skeletons laid each component of the ritual in its rightful place, and soon they distanced themselves. They will not ruin this.
She knelt.
Incantation.
Strings of incomprehensible words.
From a whisper, now a speech to nothingness.
The engraved symbols twitched and wiggled, as if they were alive and ready to do the bidding of their mistress.
The world trembled.
The moon glows brighter.
Mari focuses.
Time.
Tick tock.
An hour in, she felt her fingers grow colder than they had ever been.
Two hours in, she felt her bones weigh heavy.
The body feels the mind.
Three hours in, searing lashes of amber and jade arced from her body to the air.
Four hours in, her entire body feels numb.
The mind knows the soul.
Five hours in, otherworldly voices whisper, starting and stopping erratically.
Six hours in, the soul becomes all.
Darkness takes her.
And in that darkness, she made a decision that changed everything.
The resurrection is complete.
Her vision returns to her.
The sun rises.
Darkness takes her.
A torrent of memories assault her mind.
Of days long gone, of a childhood poorly spent.
A small blip in her long life, but it meant so much to her.
A moment of warmth, hugs, love, friends, family.
All taken away in an instant.
The world around her shifts.
And once more she is back on that faithful day, her greatest mistake.
An endless set of stairs. An unnerving red light.
And in front of her, was a pale featureless body.
She was under no delusions on who could that be.
Sunny...
She felt it.
Something watching her. Judging her, from start to end.
A crawling abyss at the bottom of the stairs rises. Fast.
She felt it before she could think. That darkness was going to take him away from her.
Render so much time spent to nothing.
What does she do?
What does she do?
...
Clarity. Above all else, Sunny comes first.
Power flares. Ghastly iridescent hands extended from behind her.
She grabbed Sunny's body, and pulled him far, far away from everything.
She'll save him.
Big sister will protect little brother.
Always.
The void claws away at her, she does not care. She'll survive, she'll live forever. Together with him. She promised.
All her power, all that she had learned, she let it wrap around her and Sunny. To preserve. To persist.
She weathers this storm, like she had so many times.
She has suffered worse.
This is no different.
Sunny.
Sunny.
Sunny.
I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Everything grows dark.
Light.
There is so much light.
The world returns to her.
The sun rises.
And Sunny's body twitches.
Then blinks.
Mari breathed heavily. Did she do it? Did she...?
Slowly, Sunny sits up, confusion in his doe-like eyes.
His gaze settles on Mari.
Shock is present on each other's face.
"M-Mari...?" Sunny chokes out. His eyes begin to water.
"Sunny..." Mari breathes out, tears freely flowing from her eyes.
"M-MARI!" Sunny outstretches his arms, as if a child begging to be picked up by their mother.
"SUNNY!" Mari runs into his embrace as quick as she can.
Warmth.
Love.
Finally.
Finally, finally finally.
She has worked so hard-she has done so much-she has-she...
Mari wept loudly in Sunny's embrace, and Sunny too, cried just as loudly.
Their hands desperately wrapped around the other, as if afraid that letting go would mean death.
To each other they babbled apologies, their regrets, their concern melded, incomprehensible.
Once, Mari feared that she would feel nothing when he was back.
What a fool she was, leave it to her dearest Sunny to bring her back from the brink.
She felt like a child once more, oh how she cried tears of joy, softly rocking him back and forth, affectionately running her fingers through his hair.
"Mari...Mari...Mari..."
"Sunny...Sunny...Sunny..."
He was back. He was whole.
He was fine. He was safe.
Mari felt everything, overwhelmed with joy.
She missed him so much.
He missed her so much.
It was worth it.
At long last, blessed be upon this day.
Everything was finally okay.
The sun rises, affirmation.
They'll never hurt again.