A Starless Night - Part One

Choppily, fragments organized themselves.

In disjointed ripples, scenes of color splashed onto a shattered canvas, slipping into the cracks.

Faces, eyes, noses, and lips just a blur.

Slipping through, blinked and flipped away like the chops of a distorted, unorganized glitch.

The steady flow of colorful drips spread across the splintered shards, as the chops of black began to dissipate.

Instead, filling a wider surrounding view, the colors stretched like veins.

Reaching, reaching, covering a vast and empty world that seemed to stretch on, sequestered, forever.

And with each passing and recovering shard playing out like a hazy and unfamiliar memory.

Something spread through the cracks, breathing a single breath into the darkness.

A simple existence—Something unprecedented and so simple, yet blooming, and breathing—rose steadily through the dark world that this nothingness inhabited.

A flower… Was that the word for it?

“—t”

Stretching up, sprouting into a bloom, every other projected plane pulsated against its vibrancy, before even they themselves began to fade.

“—alt!”

And then, only then… Was a new sense discovered as well.

“COBALT!!!”

* * * * * * * *

Heavy air quickly began to fill in his lungs.

Having jolted upright, a pounding sensation of a drum shook his chest rhythmically, and in tandem the pair of lungs that had awoken themselves heaved with each rushed breath, all as though the body was trying to recover from something.

Visions of the shaky room filtered in and out around him, following some sort of nauseous feeling from sitting up so fast.

The pounds of his heartbeat filtered through his ears and dissipated, and the fuzziness of his eyes eased back into a coherency as they closed themselves again. And silently, the lone and calming figure’s ears were slowly filled with the rhythmic pattering of the rain, surrounding him as if he were in the middle of a waterfall.

Still sitting upright, he rubbed his eyes. Teetering on the edge of falling back asleep again, and letting slip the memories of the strange dream he had just woken up from, he quickly became lost in the sound filling his ears. When was the last time that he had heard the rain? It wasn’t exactly a fond memory to have.

But regardless, this sensation was quite different. He felt a lot more at peace than before. There was even a unique smell to the rain—something he couldn’t seem to describe. This came as a bit of a surprise to him, though. How, with everything that he knew, did Cobalt have no idea that rain had a smell? The more he thought about it, the more he got utterly lost in those senses. He started to slump back, and was almost laying down again before he realized he was seconds away from falling back asleep.

He shook his head, abandoning his sleepy thoughts as he tried to open up his eyes again. There were evidently a lot of things you took for granted living in a world devoid of them; colors, sounds, and now smells to name a few. Whatever the case, that scent seemed to fill open his nostrils, welcoming in something confusingly nostalgic, as well as embodying the word “morning” to a tee.

But when he opened his eyes fully,

“Ah—…”

His senses were evidently wrong, were his next thoughts, seeing as he had for some reason woken up in the middle of the night.

The sound of the rain followed his ears as he looked around the room.

This was Arabelle’s shack, if he remembered correctly. And specifically her bed, shockingly enough.

It was only natural that if he was sleeping in her bed, she’d be elsewhere. But regardless, he wasn’t going to undermine how comfortable her bed was. He’d expected it to be ripped or stained or something you’d find outside a homeless shelter, but juxtaposing the rest of this shack, it was surprisingly snug and clean.

Wait… Clean?

His eyes opened themselves further, shuffling his hands over the silky sheets.

But, the sand—

“—!!”

With that thought, and the movement that followed, the spine-chilling plight with that horror permeated his mind.

All of that had just happened—it felt like mere minutes ago he slid down the flowstone in black and white—but the physical indications were, well…

The more he moved around, and the more he felt his surroundings, the more he had no idea what to say.

But sitting up straight, his voice strained as he asked himself:

“Why… Doesn’t anything hurt…?”

* * * * * * * *

Looking out to the left at the bright light masked by a misty series of clouds, he could guess it was the Great Southern Star—what they called Primara in this world.

So that should make the mountains directly in front of him on the West, and the dense trees more towards the North.

He couldn’t see the Moon, but he knew it was full-ish. It was probably behind the house his back was facing, or maybe behind the mountains ahead of him. Leaning over the railing, he looked out across puddles of mud and water, shiny reflections of Primara against the dark and vast brush around them.

Luckily this porch had a tin roof to it. There were leaks in it, sure, but where Cobalt was standing, he was just fine.

It’s a bit strange to think about. No one’s probably out here for kilometers.

If he remembered correctly, the town he “spawned” in was directly south of the Tomb area. He thought he remembered Naomi call this place “Nunam”.

Can’t remember what that town was called though.

It was about an hour and a half trip away by carriage. But frankly, he had absolutely no desire to go back there. That was where he met Irvelle, after all.

Maybe he could just stay here out in the middle of no where with Arabelle instead?

Ah, that’s a rich Light Novel title. “Still a Hikikomori¹ but in Another World”.

It was a selfish wish, sure, to never want to return back to civilization given the chance—and given the sole reason for staying, Arabelle, it was a wish that someone like Naomi would surely scrutinize. But who could blame Cobalt for that, really?

If anything, I’d rather it be something I overcome later rather than sooner.

But wasn’t the alternative staying in the Tomb at the risk of almost losing his life again?

Just what the hell was it Cobalt actually wanted out of life?

“Ah, I’ve got it.”

Forcing away the conflicting thoughts that only seemed to sour the mood, Cobalt leaned farther out over the fencing, feeling the rain dampen the hair over the left side of his face.

“Still a Hikikomori but in Another World—yeah that’s definitely a novel I’ve heard of before—”

KKKKKHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Echoing all around him, he heard the frantic squawks of crows and other birds dissipate into the trees, following a world-quaking boom that shook loads of water on the roof off onto his head.

“—...”

And then immediately after that, he heard the deafening crashing of waves hitting the water from not too far away.

Now coated in what felt like liters of rainwater, and still hearing the distant terrified calls of birds scattering, Cobalt could barely collect himself to guess what he just heard.

In a place like Istheria, that’s what a transformer sounds like when it gives out. Here in Crestia, however, only the wildest minds could try to guess the source: A magical timebomb? A ballista armed with gunpowder or magic explosives? A boss monster that escaped the Tomb?

But leaning back to shake the water from his hair, Cobalt’s own guess was a far, far more terrifying thought than anything like that.

There’s no food in the house, and that monster is no where to be seen. There’s no people around for over an hour away, and whatever that was, it was some kind of explosion over the water, and it scared some birds shitless.

With all of those clues, it sort of blew all the other creative ideas out of the water—no pun intended.

That… Psycho’s going dynamite fishing with her magic…

—Was the only rational conclusion remaining.

Seriously, what type of insane person was he dealing with who resorted to solving problems like eating by throwing out her entire arsenal of explosive magic?

She’s resourceful, I’ll give her that…

But since the chaotic sounds of aquatic warfare had died down, he could only assume she was on her way back.

“But when… She does get back…”

What was it that he wanted to say to her?

He was probably most curious to know how she brought him back. Did she seriously carry him all the way out of that dark hell? In descending order from that, he wanted to know why he wasn’t in pain right now, if she was doing alright, and then tell her about everything that happened in the Tomb.

I’m still clinging to my Developer theory, he thought, even though he knew she wouldn’t understand most of what that meant. Cobalt ended up progressing through the Tomb and making it back to Arabelle by sheer chance, after all. Literally entirely due to a demon who had “taken an interest” in him. If not for that, Cobalt wouldn’t have any of the knowledge or ideas he had now—in fact, he definitely wouldn’t have his life, either. It also wouldn’t hurt to know the macguffin² that was at the bottom of the damn thing, anyway.

And on that subject, Cobalt should at least have a basic rundown on magic by now, right?

Wouldn’t mind some exposition… I’m too tired for any more conflict.

He was pretty sure he almost casted what at least looked like a spell against the direwolf-thing in the forest section—before he utterly failed at it, that is.

I mean how often do your veins light up like LED’s…

Whatever the case, he’d have to make a mental checklist of everything he wanted to say to her. Though, even with all those conversation prompts, it would be really hard to resist running up and hugging her on the spot instead. Even tossing her up in the air like a little kid—thoughts like that played over and over in his mind.

This almost reminds me of when I’d wait for Bismuth outside of class…

“We’re Professional Tomb Raiders, aren’t we? And since we’re probably the only two in the world, and since we’re all we have… That makes us, friends, doesn’t it?”

That’s what he had said to her only a few hours ago.

It’s kind of like a confession, isn’t it?

Although not the typical kind, on the obvious account of Arabelle probably being 4-5 years younger than him.

But still, knowing that I actually have a friend, it… feels better than words could describe.

Peering out over the railing, that almost-lonely thought brought a small smile to his lips. It’s almost like Cobalt’s first quest in this new world was to find an actual friend. And, even though it took him almost losing his life about four times now—

He turned from his thoughts, hearing a rustling from the brush to his left.

Standing with a sack in one hand, a girl with a quiet, almost pouty expression, ran her hands through her drenched hair. Her shining, mostly-vermillion eyes looked up at him, meanwhile her face was pointed downwards. She wore the mannerisms of an outlander with the red and white dress of a doll—a shocking clash of opposites Cobalt had become more than accustomed to by now.

Staring out across the dark-puddled lawn and midnight shower, the two lost friends eyed each other while frozen in place, neither knowing what to say.

Cobalt had prepared a list of things he wanted to say to her. One of which simply being running and pulling her into a hug, something that he was resisting the urge to do even now.

Watching her stand like a statue amidst the rain which was starting to pick up, she eventually managed to break the mold that separated the two of them. She shifted her weight to her other hip as she pressed her occupied hand up against it.

And only then did her small legs finally give way, walking towards him as an unreadable—yet somewhat happy—expression spread across her lips.

“Hey Cobalt… Long time no see.”

Standing on the other side, calm and mostly-dry under the tin roof, Cobalt could only say one thing…

“…That was my cool line.”

Before finally walking towards his friend.

* * * * * * * *

¹Hikikomori: in modern day Japan, someone shut-in from the outside world who avoids human contact.

²Macguffin: an object in literature used solely to drive the plot. Cobalt’s essentially making fun of whatever is at the bottom of the Tomb.