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Leif is running. The castle fades behind her faster and faster as she eggs the Moss Man on. Tears stream down her face as her chest heaves, stuck somewhere between relief and pure terror. Devastation.
A box sits innocently nestled in her arms.
What has she done?
The right thing. No, she knows it’s the right thing! She couldn’t just let them continue the invasion after what she’d seen— she couldn’t! It had felt so real and the visions wouldn’t leave her alone, following her like ghosts dancing at the edge of her vision as she clutches the box to her chest.
Knowing this didn’t make it hurt any less.
Even if she knows that taking the box was what she had to do, she hates it. It’s the right thing to do but it hurts and she hates it. She hates the fact that she had to leave in the way that she did, but Drias had made it clear that he wasn’t going to change his mind! She knows that it’s complicated, but some part of her can’t help but think. Did Andrias not value her opinion? Didn’t he trust you her? There’s nothing that she could possibly gain from stealing the box— ripping them apart but she had to.
She had to.
She’s lucky she’s got away with it too. She knows that if it wasn’t for Barrel’s hesitation— his willingness to hear her out…
She can only hope that Andrias doesn’t punish him for it. It’s not Barrel’s fault. It was her decision to steal the box and hers alone. He shouldn’t be punished for her decisions, nor for his kind, caring heart.
So of course it hurts to think about how she left. Of what she just did. Even if in the end, it had to be done. She’s still acutely aware of the guilt squirming in her stomach as it tries to eat away at her determination.
She didn’t even get to say goodbye. Not really. Not properly.
She tries not to think about it as the Moss Man continues to take her further and further into Amphibia. Away from Newtopia. Away from the castle. Away from them. Her everything.
She’s still crying, tears trickling down her face. She tries not to think about it.
Eventually, she stops. She’s not exactly sure how long she’s been running for, but judging by the fact that the moon’s already sinking further into the horizon it’s been a while. It must’ve been regardless, as she was long past Newtopia, finally having reached the cave in which the Olms reside.
She takes a long shuddering breath as she hops off of the Moss Man and stares into the deep, dark entrance of the cave that they call home. She brushes off her cloak a little self-conscious as she prays that she at least looks somewhat presentable. At some point she’d stopped crying. She doesn’t know when, but she hopes that by now it’s at least not obvious. She at least hopes that the tight grip she has on the box will hide the obvious fact that her hands won’t stop shaking.
Most of all though, she hopes that they can give her the answers. Giver her some direction. At the very least confirm that she’s done the right thing, if only to quell the voice inside of her mind telling her that she’s made a mistake. Sacrificed far too much. That she’s simply a fool who’s far too in over her head. That the best thing for her would be to go back to Newtopia and beg for forgiveness. To take whatever punishment Andrias gives her. Anything to stem the growing guilt gnawing at her resolve. Anything to see them again, to explain herself even if they want to hear nothing of it.
She takes a deep breath, holds her head high and walks into the cave with confidence she doesn’t really have.
Thankfully, they’re willing to give her an audience with Mother Olm. Thankfully this time she is listened to. Thankfully they have the answers she so desperately needs, speaking of prophecies and calamity. The untimely end of the world. The falling of the night. The fate of the world resting upon the shoulders of free from afar. It only confirms for Leif what she has to do. She has to get rid of the Music Box. She tells them as much and hopes that she can get a handle on how to use it.
She’s glad that they were at least able to tell her something. She doesn’t know what she would’ve done if they weren’t able to tell her anything. She’s unbelievably relieved she’s right. That she didn’t do this all for nothing.
It still doesn’t quite manage to quell her guilt.
She tries to forget about it as she leaves the exact same way that she came. With her head held high displaying confidence she’s not really sure she has. The Olms wish her luck and she gives her thanks as she leaves. She may not be confident, but she is determined. Determined to get the box off of Amphibia. Determined to save it no matter what. She’s gone too far to come back now, and she won’t lose everything she has in vain.
She takes another deep, measured breath as she returns to the Moss Man, box still clutched tightly in one hand, the other being used to wipe at the fresh tears falling from her face. She’s exhausted, not having stopped since she left the castle and it had clearly been an eventful day. Still, she wastes no time in leaving, heading further away from Newtopia and all that she loves. The rising sun guides her way, marking the start of a new day. There are likely search parties out already looking for her— for the box and she can’t let herself get caught now. Not after everything.
She has a job to do and she’s going to do it no matter what it takes.
The box itself is rather simple, really. Unassuming. At first glance, it’d be easy to presume that it was just a regular old music box, but that music appeared to be the key to its secrets. Travelling to other worlds. A simple mistake to make, if you didn’t know what you were doing. What it really was.
That’s why she had to make sure that it would stay safe. That it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands. That it would never make its way back to Amphibia as a result. No matter what, she had to make sure of it. She had to make sure that she was able to get rid of it. That the prophecy would never come to pass.
She had to. She’d come too far— lost too much to fail now.
Eventually, she manages it. Her time on Earth is brief, but she enjoys it for what its worth. It’s an interesting little place, clearly in its infancy as Andrias had suggested. She’s glad that they can’t invade it anymore. Even for a place that was supposed to be a temporary escape— a hideaway so she could get the box off of Amphibia, and hopefully shake the Newtopian forces off of her trial by quite literally dropping off of the grid, she’s genuinely come to enjoy it here. The people she’d met had surprisingly welcomed her, and with any luck the box will stay on Earth and never find its way back to Amphibia, warnings clear.
Frog, she hopes so. She doesn’t know what she'd do if she failed. She didn’t, but eventually she has to take her leave. When she was sure that it had been long enough, that it should be somewhat safe for her to return. When she was sure that the box was safe, and that it wouldn’t be coming back.
Only then did she return, and only then could she hope that she’d done enough to ensure Amphibia’s safety.
When she gets back, she finds herself lost. Her only goal for so long had been to dispose of the box, so what’s she supposed to do now? She can’t return to her old life in the castle of course that’s out of the question as much as she misses Drias and Barrel. She hadn’t really known anything other than Newtopia up until now, and she misses it. She misses them. She thinks it’s one of the main reasons that she decided to come back…
She could probably find somewhere more small and remote to live in the outer reaches of Amphibia. She’s sure it would be much safer than staying around the city, deeply afraid that people are still searching for her and the box and with those thoughts— fears… Can she really just hunker down and have a normal life? Can she really just forget everything that’s happened? What she’s done?
She doesn’t think so.
She goes anyway. Logically it’s her best bet, right? The further she gets away from the castle, the less Newtopian guards. The less influence the King will have. The less of a chance she’ll have of being recognised or caught. It should at the very least enable her to hide under a new name and reinvent herself. It would be easier, if she heads to the furthest reaches. She’s sure she’d be able to throw off any pursuers in the undergrowth and start again somewhere else if it really came down to it. It really did seem like her best option, if she wanted to survive. Her only option.
That’s how she found herself in Wartwood.
It’s a small little village tucked well away from Newtopia and most other civilisation, actually. At least from what she could tell, it was pretty much completely surrounded by forestland. It’s vast and unforgiving nature had been a little hard to navigate on her own, but she’d managed. It’d been lucky too, that she was even able to make it there in the first place. She hears that the pass to Newtopia is entirely inaccessible for a sizable part of the year. That’s a bonus for her, in a way though. The more remote the village, the less people in said village and the less likely she was to be caught!
It still didn’t really help calm her nerves though.
Sure, her neighbours seem nice enough and she’s sure she’s done nothing to make them suspicious of her— but there’s always this nagging at the back of her mind. What if they know? What if there are castle guards already on their way here? What if— what if she can’t escape? Trapped and lost in the throws of the surrounding forest. Would they get to her first or would nature? What would she rather?
She doesn’t think she can bear to face them again, if she was caught.
She tries not to think about it. It doesn’t work.
Leif has always loved nature. Gardening and studying Amphibia’s natural wildlife. She’d exceeded at it, in fact ever since she was little. That’s why she’d been working at the palace— it’s why she set up a little farm in Wartwood. It seemed like a good cover regardless. She’d also made sure to dig out a secret basement inside of the farm house. You know. Just in case, but she’s sure it’ll be fine!
She supposes the pay is decent enough as well. She sets up a little produce stand to run at the market in the town centre. The townspeople seem to appreciate her hard work and it’s nice but…
She’s still scared.
She’s lonely as well, she thinks. Hiding away on her little farm on the outskirts, trying to stay away from everyone else as much as she possibly can. It gives her too much time to think and so she throws herself into the farm, praying for distraction. She still ends up thinking regardless. About the visions. About the Music Box. About whether she’d been discovered.
About Barrel and Andrias.
She misses them endlessly. Thinks of them constantly with an aching in her heart. When she’s not dreaming of her downfall— of the fall of the moon crashing down into their broken planet without mercy, she thinks of them. Of days spent running around the castle, laughing and having fun. When they were carefree and didn’t need to worry about boxes and prophecies, invasions and expectations. When simply having each other was their everything and it was enough.
She misses it. She misses them.
But eventually, things start to change in ways she didn’t really expect. The longer she spends on her little farm in Wartwood, the more comfortable she starts to get. She starts getting to know the townspeople. Starts letting her guard down, and it’s strange. Different. Even dangerous as some voice inside her mind continues to nag, but she finds that the more she talks to them and opens up, the easier it is to quiet that voice.
Maybe she even starts to feel a little less lonely. Maybe she even starts to make some new friends, despite it all.
In fact, to her even greater surprise she befriends one particular frog. Another newcomer to the small little town, and they get to chatting by chance at her little produce stand and really seem to hit it off. His hair is a chocolate brown, just covering his eyes and his skin a deep purple. Before she knows it, she finds herself falling head over heels in love. It’s new and surprising and exciting. It’s something that she never thought she’d be lucky enough to have again, and she’s happy. She really is. Sure, she still has dreams leaving her anxious and on edge, forever paranoid that her past would be exposed and that she’d once again find herself losing everything she had. Sure, it still makes her think about them sometimes too, but she’s happy. Truly, and she knows that her newfound family will be there for her when she needs it.
The tome helps of course too. When she’s particularly worried, the writing and recording seems to help. The knowledge that her words may one day be able to help her family, add to it even as they go on to discover more of the world for themselves, and pass it down to their children. It’s a nice thought, but for now she’s content to rack her mind for any knowledge that she can find. Anything that may one day provide useful. Anything that may server to distract her slightly, from the thoughts and memories clawing for attention in the back of her mind.
More often than not she pretends she doesn’t see the page containing warnings of the Music Box, of other dimensions and impending danger. She wrote it one night in a blind panic after remembering her vision. She hopes they never need it. Hopes they never see the day the box returns to Amphibia, prophecy to be ultimately fulfilled. Oh, she hopes and she dutifully pretends that it’s not there.
The gardening helps too of course. It’s always been her passion. Fascinated her. There’s no problem a good bit of farming can’t distract from. She’s always proud too, when she’s able to watch them grow. Turn into something new. Something coming out of her hard work that could help not only her family but even the townspeople too, when she goes out to sell at the market.
And just like her farm, her family begins to grow too. They have two lovely, wonderful children. Extra hands to help her in the garden, when they’re not outside exploring the town and running a mock. It’s just as much of a joy to watch them grow too, and they do. They grow right before her eyes— before she even knows it into a pair of fine young frogs. They really do, and she couldn’t be prouder as she finds them ready to go off on their own. Ready for adventures of their own and she loves them with all her heart. At some point, her youngest comes back with children of his own, and she can watch them grow too. Be proud and love them just as much as her own children. She loves her whole family with her whole heart, and she’s happy. Eternally grateful that they love her back. That she was truly able to start again. She’s not sure she could’ve asked for more.
It still doesn’t always stop her from thinking about her past though. She’s sure she’ll never truly forget them but with time, it becomes a little easier to look back. To remember Andrias and Barrel. The fun times they had together. The love they have for each other. It doesn’t leave her feeling quite as broken or lost anymore. Maybe just a little bittersweet but after all these years— all that’s happened, she feels nothing but fondness for them.
She still misses them too despite no longer being as lonely as she was before, and despite how much time has passed. She doesn’t think she’ll ever stop missing them but…
That’s okay. She loves her new life just as much as she loved her old life and it’s okay if she misses it— them, sometimes. She can at least now be comforted by the memories they shared and by those she chooses to surround herself with now. The fact she’d at least got the damned Music Box off of Amphibia, if anything and with any luck, it’ll stay that way.
But really, she’s happy. Even though she still feels the loss sometimes. Even if it sometimes feels wrong being here without them, she knows it’s in the past and behind her now. She knows she’s found happiness now despite it and she couldn’t ask for anything more.
She still hears of them sometimes too of course. She tries her best despite herself to hear of them, desperately hoping that they’re okay.
She hears whispers of Barrel. That he was a noble toad, dedicated to his role of defending villages. Protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves. She knows though. Oh, she knows. Barrel has always been loyal, determined to a fault. It was one of the many things that they love about him. It seems like he hasn’t changed, despite the fact that the rumours can only mean one thing. It seems that in the end, Barrel had been punished for her mistakes. Sent away by Andrias and betrayed by both of them. It breaks her heart to think about.
She hopes he’s able to find happiness without them like she has, in spite of it all. She really hopes. She wants them to be happy too.
One day she hears another rumour that only serves to break her heart further. At some point, they start saying that that’s how he died. Doing his job. Protecting a village and those within it and it breaks her heart. She hopes that he could at least find peace in the afterlife, if he wasn’t able to find it before. She hopes that maybe, when the time eventually comes, they’ll be able to see each other again.
It’s needless to say that she takes the news rather hard. Even though she knew it had been long since over between the three of them, that there was little chance of them seeing each other, the finality of it all hits her impossibly hard. Whatever slim chance that had remained had been instantly shattered by those words, the news that she doesn’t even know for sure is true! She believes it though, because she can’t see how it could be a lie and… she can see it. Barrel was determined and endlessly loyal to fault. She knows that as a palace guard he would have protected it— them with his life, and she knows he would have carried the same dedication to any task that Andrias would’ve given him. It’s not hard to imagine Barrel defending the town with his life. It’s not hard at all, and it makes Leif’s heart ache all the harder.
Somehow, she surprisingly manages to keep herself together, at least up until that night when she finds herself in her room in the basement on autopilot. She stands in the centre of the room for a few seconds, just staring before everything comes rushing back to the surface and she breaks down crying. She doesn’t know how long she sits there, mourning for Barrel. For everything that she’s lost. For all that happened to cause this. She can’t help but feel a familiar kind of guilt, because in a way it really is her fault, isn’t it? Barrel was only sent away because of her! If he’d stayed, then he would still be alive and well, with Andrias by his side. How it should be.
Leif wonders not for the first time why it had to be like this, and she wonders not for the first time, if Andrias is thinking of them too. Has he heard the same rumours? The same tales, about all the good Barrel has been able to bring without them— despite them? Has he heard of how in the end that blind dedication had inevitably killed him? He must have. Andrias sent him personally after all.
She wonders if he’s grieving too. A mess just as much as her. She wouldn’t blame him if he was still blinded by anger towards her, but she’d hoped so much that he wouldn’t take it out on Barrel. It wasn’t his fault and now he was dead! She doubts they even got to make amends before he passed either, but she hopes so badly that Andrias was able to break his anger for Barrel. She can understand why he would be mad at her, but Barrel didn’t deserve to be punished for her mistakes and she hates that he was. Hates what happened because of it. Hates that she had to tear a gaping hole through their partnership.
But she had to, and she hates it!
At some point she passes out, too exhausted from the tears and thoughts tormenting her waking moments. Of course, the feelings only follow her into her dreams, where she sees days spent tinkering in the castle, just waiting to see the two smiling faces that she loves so dearly, eager to get outside and cause some mischief together. She dreams of how it all shattered right in front of them because of a damned Music Box— because of her.
When she wakes up, she finds her feet carrying her to the garden after raiding the cupboards for something. Hands itching with the urge to do something. Dig into the dirt until the urge goes away. Until her hands stop shaking. She stops thinking.
She’s picked up some assortment of flowers she thinks. Hyacinths and lilacs, if she read the label right— but she’s really not sure because at some point her eyes started getting blurry. It was stuff that they just had lying around, but it gave her something to do. She’s sure they’d look nice, regardless.
She is startled out of her stupor by one of the kids, calling her for breakfast she thinks. Asking what she’s doing in the way that kids tend to do. She tries to pull herself together a little, but her emotions are written all over the hole she’s trying desperately to cover up in the yard so the flowers can grow. Another job done. Another secret buried, but her voice is shaky when she tries to answer.
She thinks she might be crying again. She’s not sure when that happened.
They ask if she’s okay and she puts on a brave face as she wipes at her tears and finds herself telling the truth. She says she’s outside planting flowers because she’s upset. Because someone she used to hold very close to her heart has moved on.
She leaves out the most important parts of course. What she did to cause the scenario in which he died in the first place. They don’t need to know. Don’t need to be burdened with her guilts and secrets. It’s too dangerous and it’s a secret she wholly intends to carry to her own grave.
But of course she still grieves for Barrel, and the reopened wound of all that they lost. The role that she played in it.
She had to.
Her eldest seems to sober up a little at that, and she is given a hug, and then a helping hand and together they cover the gentle seeds that will one day grow into blossoming flowers. She’s offered a hand once their done and dragged back inside where the rest of her family is waiting. She hugs her husband, thanking him for taking over the duty of breakfast today. He smiles and says that it’s fine as he hugs her back and asks if she’s okay. She insists she’s fine, they don’t need to worry.
Together they have breakfast like every other morning. Not that it feels like every other morning, but it becomes less scary with her family around to pick up the pieces and try and cheer her up.
She loves them and she makes sure they know just as much.
Of course she always knew she would never forget them but it had been easier before she heard of Barrel’s fate, the news only serving to reopen the ugly wound in her heart. She knows though too, that with time it will get easier again, with her family by her side to support her and the memories that she still holds dear.
It doesn’t mean she stops thinking though.
Andrias is somewhat easier to hear about. He is the king after all, but Wartwood is still remote enough that she doesn’t hear all that much. She wanted to go somewhere far away anyhow, but of course she still hears some things.
More often than not, the things she hears make her worry.
From what she hears, Barrel isn’t the only toad to have been reassigned and moved out of the capital. It seems that, as more time passes, the more frogs seem to leave Newtopia and the more toads seem to follow them. She hears that they’ve already seemingly replaced a majority of the castle staff with newts.
It worries her.
She also hears rumours that Newtopia has swiftly begun to run out of resources without the use of the music box. She hears that they’re considering viable options to mine for materials in Amphibia itself. People can only give her their own theories on that. She hears that Andrias has been very quiet about it, at least publicly. She hears he’s become rather reclusive, rarely seen out of the castle walls. Most think it’s an unlikely option. She’s not so sure.
It worries her.
It scares her because she can’t ever really know for sure what’s going on in Newtopia. If they’re still looking for her. It worries her because she’d known Drias so well— they’d done everything together but she can’t begin to imagine what’s going on in the head of the newt she hears of. The King that’s described to her seems nothing like the young prince that she once knew.
She can’t help but think it’s her fault. She can’t help but think that it doesn’t sound like her Drias. Can’t help the way it breaks her heart. Can’t help the way she misses him too.
She can’t help but continue to wonder if he too keeps them in his heart, just like her. Does he hate them? Hate her? Sometimes she really thinks that she should be mad too. She wouldn’t have had to do it all if he’d just listened— but she knows it’s not his fault. She knows how hurt he was. She saw. It was clear to her, that her choices had torn the three of them apart, even if it was necessary.
So she knows she’s the only one to blame in the end.
It still hurts and she still worries and she still thinks.
It’s what eventually prompts her to write the letter. She retrieves some red paper and the signature ink they’d used to secretly pass notes to each other oh so long ago. It fills her with a stupidly strong sense of nostalgia. Bittersweet affection. Oh, does she miss them. She writes. She writes her heart out and pours her thoughts and feelings onto the page, even just to get them to get them out of her head. Even if she knows it’s fruitless. She carefully seals the envelope with the official seal and leaves it on the centre of her desk, in her little room in the basement. Her eyes catch on her old cloak hanging up by the doorway as she leaves. She takes a deep breath as she pulls the door shut behind her and pretends it’s not there.
She hopes though, that Drias may see it one day. Even if, realistically, she knows it’ll likely stay there as long as the house stays standing. She knows too that, just like Barrel, she’s likely to never see him again. She’s not sure if he could face him anyway, scared of what she would fine but— that’s the point of the letter, isn’t it? Whilst it may just look like a blank piece of paper to most, she knows that Drias would understand it’s meaning, and she knows that she can at least try to reach him. Try to make peace with him and everything that’s happened. Say goodbye in the way that she wants to. In the way that she couldn’t do when she stole the Box, in the way that she couldn’t for Barrel— and hope that one day it may reach him. That if her letter does somehow miraculously reach him, that it’ll help him understand. That he may be able to find peace with what happened too, because the picture that people paint for her doesn’t portray as much. She hopes that, most of all, she’ll be able to see them again. Both of them, despite it all.
She can only hope.