The next day was only marginally better. Lucette fell asleep in Hamin’s arms again, and he’d been forced to carry the inebriated woman back to her room again. He felt a bit better about himself now, having helped, if only slightly, but he still didn’t feel right.

As such, he was sitting in his guest suite, frowning as he laid on the bed, unable to sleep. The decorations were just as lavish, if not more, than those of the Canterlot suite he’d been given before.

He clenched his fists at that.

’That’s not an all-too pleasant thought. Nor is knowing that fact.’

He sighed, looking at the pouches on the nightstand near his king-sized bed. “...And neither is the fact I remember what happened before I came here now...”

He placed a hand over his heart. He didn’t feel it’s beat.

Yet he still felt it sink to his stomach at that thought and realization.

He almost sat up, almost got up, to go look in the mirror across the room, to see his new scars, the ones that would stay with him for years to come...but stopped himself short.

Slowly, he sighed, took off his clothes sans boxers, and settled in for a restless night.

The next morning he awoke to the sound of knocking at his door. Groaning, and thankfully not terribly groggy, he sat up in the bed. “Who is it?”

“Storm Queen Lucette Petremol,” came the rough voice of the guard outside his door.

Hamin let out a sigh. ’Well, at least this is a chance to help her past this more.’

“Do come in, then,” he said in his best polite voice.

The door opened, and Lucette walked in. She was in her usual armor again, full regalia and all. As the door closed behind her, she walked up to him and sat on the bed. Silence ensued for a time, neither wanting to say anything. Eventually, though, he spoke up. “Still angry?”

“...Yes,” she said slowly.

Hamin shrugged. “Well, it’s understandable. I am me.” He adjusted himself so he was sitting more straight. “But I’m not the important one here. You are. You’re the wounded party, and, you obviously want to talk about everything again. Right?”

Lucette nodded slowly. “I…” She bit her lip, then looked at him. “...You really weren’t lying about them being alive, right?”

Hamin nodded, placing his hands in his lap. “I made an oath to stop lying years ago.”

She grunted. “Reassuring, aren’t you?”

Hamin sighed deeply. “Sorry. I tend to be passive aggressive to a fault, because of being a pathological liar. Getting out of that rut has been hard, but at the very least all I do is tell useless lies now. Making very, very random stuff up, for instance. Like, say,” he rolled a hand around. “That I ate cat for dinner. Stuff like that.”

Lucette took a breath again. “You’re making your case worse, you know.”

Hamin opened his mouth, then closed it and sighed again. “Sorry. I tend to do that too.” He shook his head. “So, with that said, let’s try something more extreme. I promise I didn’t lie about them being alive. Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” He then did his best effort at the motions as he said the words.

Lucette gave him a look. “Did...you recite the same words a weird baker girl says? Word for word? That’s creepy, dude.”

Hamin slumped his shoulders. “Please don’t tell me you haven’t actually heard of a Pinkie Promise…”

Lucette stared at him for a moment, then let out a short titter of laughter. “No no, I’m messing with you. I know of it, at least. I heard reports among my spies that it does work, too.” She shook her head a bit. “Still not sure I want to mess with that baker in a real fight.”

Hamin chuckled. “Me either. The stories they have about her online have become creepypastas.”

Lucette blinked under her mask. “...Duly noted.” She shook her head once again. “Getting back on topic...do you...know where my family is?”

Hamin nodded. “Lambert is under Canterlot. In the mines. I don’t recall much else about his situation, though. My memory on my stories is still hazy,” He cleared his throat, coughing into his fist. “Lynette is across the Mirror, dealing with her own foe; teenagers and press, and another Displaced of my creation. Your mother, Laurette...she’s also across the Mirror, but...much farther. Deeply embroiled in politics, and specifically, war.” He shook his head sadly. “Your father is in another world/universe entirely. His story had no big, scary plans, aside from other nations wanting to hire him and him refusing to be tied to one single nation.”

Lucette smiled thinly, looking away. He knew that was more than a sad smile, but still less than a happy smile. He didn’t need to know her intimately or her expressions to know that.

“Sounds like him alright,” she said, fists clenching.

Hamin sighed a bit at this. “You can punch me again if you want. I honestly don’t care anymore.”

Lucette growled. “Stop that.”

Hamin blinked owlishly, then tilted his head. “Stop...what?”

“Stop just brushing off this shit!” She snapped, swiping a hand out and slapping him. He slowly put a hand to his cheek as he stared at her in shock. She dismissed her mask, tears in her eyes and anger shining in them. “You keep freely opening yourself up to be punished, but at the same time that makes the whole thing seem null and void! Stop asking for punishment and actually try to make it up! Be a man for God’s sake!”

Hamin’s eyes widened at this. “I…” He rubbed his reddened cheek, completely unsure how to respond. Memories of a certain girl flew back to his mind, and he turned his head away immediately, furiously rubbing at the tears that appeared and shaking himself. “I...I’m sorry-”

“And stop apologizing! Are you seriously stupid enough to think a fucking apology will solve every goddamn problem?!”

Hamin simply stared at her. She growled. “Either man up and work to actually make me trust you, or get the fuck out of my castle.”

Hamin opened and closed his mouth a few times, throat suddenly dry. “A-And,” He cleared his throat. “How should I make you trust me?”

“...” She stared at him for a moment, then groaned, shaking her head. “God you’re a fucking idiot. Dense as all hell.” She looked back up at him. “Just...I dunno, help me find my family, or help me with my kids or their work, or help ME with my work, for a bit.”

Hamin slowly nodded. “R-Right. S-” He stopped and caught himself. “Okay.”

Lucette sighed deeply. “Just...try to actually think more about making things up to people, instead of beating yourself up and apologizing for everything. There’s steps to things, dude.”

He nodded again. “Got it. I’ll...try my best to remember that.”

She nodded. “Good.” She stood up and resummoned her mask. “Come to my study when you’re ready. You can start helping me there. One of the guards can lead you if you ask.” Without any other words, she left the room.

Hamin stared at where she’d gone for a spell, then turned his gaze to the sheets. He gripped them tightly. “...How sad and pathetic does one have to be to not realize such a basic and obvious tenet of social interaction?” He intoned himself coldly. He continued to glare at the sheets for a time, before closing his eyes and shaking his head. “No. I can’t afford to fall into self-hate right now. It won’t help.” He sighed deeply, getting out of the bed and walking towards the shower, grabbing the clothes the maids had left on the dresser and taking them in with him. “Hopefully I can get new glasses, at least…” He mumbled to himself as he closed the door behind him and started to strip down.

Hamin knocked on the sealed stone door, aglow with green runes. “Hello? Lucette?” He called, as the guard walked back to his post and down the hall. He was dressed in a tight-fitting doublette of deep steel gray, with swirls of gold and blue on the front, and a set of black tights. Honestly not his first choice of clothes, but, it was what he was given, and he had to make do.

The door soon opened segment by segment. “Oookay,” he muttered as he walked in, the door resealing itself behind him, segment by segment. He looked around the room.

The room was circular, with bookshelves lining the walls, and black marble tiled flooring. Lucette was at a desk in the center of the room, going through a book, Ventus hovering over her, her shell twinkling like a starry night.

“Find me a book on polymorphing,” Lucette ordered, still reading the book in front of her.

Hamin frowned, sighed, but nodded. “A’ight.” He walked over to one of the shelves, searching it for a good moment. After a while, he found a book titled ‘Polymorphing: A Minor Science’ and walked to Lucette, handing it to her. She took it without looking at him, then opened it up.

“Thanks,” She said curtly.

Hamin stood there for a moment, watching her as she read, then sighed and looked around again. He noticed there were other tables and desks around the room, all with various equipment, notes and schematics on them.

He looked back to her. “So...what did you need help with?”

Lucette frowned, then sighed. “I’m trying to figure out ways to polymorph my spies so they can sneak around better, similar to Changelings.”

“But, Changelings guard that secret rather tightly,” Ventus added. “They’ve barely even shared it with their closest allies.”

Hamin frowned, crossing his arms. “And with most of them still used to being a nation of spies themselves, you’re not sure you want to fight them in that kind warfare, right?”

Lucette nodded. “I learned enough in my time here to know that while King Thorax is a bit of a softhearted idiot, and that he’s spreading that to his people, there’s still far more of them that know the horrors of espionage.” She put her book down, sighing.

Hamin rubbed his light beard. “Are you sure polymorphing’s the way to go, then?”

Lucette tilted her head at him. “Why wouldn’t it be? If we can meet and beat them on their grounds, we win a victory that tells them to fear us.”

Hamin nodded slowly. “Yes, but there are other ways to instill that kind of fear in them.”

They both looked at him curiously, Lucette narrowing her eyes at him. “How so?”

Hamin smirked. “What if you could disrupt their special magic?”

“You mean like how the ponies do?” Ventus queried.

Hamin nodded. “Exactly. Think about it, you basically already have a way to hide your troops - the Chameleon spell,” Lucette’s eyes widened at this. “But,” he raised a finger. “You also have Vow of Silence, a dark Miracle that removes all magic in the area for a time. If you can either teach your troops that, or, barring it, infuse the spell into something that your troops can then use like a tool, then you could theoretically dispel any Changelings disguises.”

Lucette rubbed her chin as she mulled this over. “How did I not think of that?”

“You’ve been more focused on technology and weapons than tools for our spies,” Ventus explained. “Still,” she looked to Hamin. “We’ve only managed to understand the spell scrolls. The Miracles are another thing entirely. Contrary to what L knows from the games, they aren’t in Braille. They’re in some weird language similar to Elder Futhark.”

Hamin nodded. “The language of Dark Souls. Thankfully,” he pulled out his book. “I have something that might help. Do you have the Miracle tomes?”

Lucette opened her palm, and one of the tomes appeared in her hand, which she gave to Hamin. Hamin hummed, rubbing his chin. He flipped the book open, placing it on the table. “Really is similar to Elder Futhark. Huh…” He then opened his book, and flipped through it for a while. After a minute or two, he found something. “Ah! Here we go! It’s a made up language that mixes Elder Futhark with a few others, like Hebrew, Arabic, and the like. Miyazaki explained it after releasing a game a few years after his other creations, Dark Souls 3 and Sekiro, even published the personal alphabet they used to write it. It became pretty popular among other game development companies.”

He pointed to one of the words on the Miracle tome. “This word is ‘Golden’ and this one is…” He studied the page of his book with the alphabet for a moment. “‘Sleeping’. Hm.” He looked to Lucette. “If you’re okay with it, I’d like to see the other Miracle tomes. In a few days I should be able to translate them all.”

Lucette shared a look with her Ghost, then slowly looked back to Hamin. “Alright...sure.” Hamin smiled as she summoned the other tomes for him, all of them falling on the table with a heavy thud. However, just as he was going back to translating, Lucette spoke up. “Still… If the other nations find out my troops are using dark magic or even magic remotely related to souls, I could be denounced and condemned.”

Hamin frowned, looking up from the pages. “Well, I wouldn’t mind helping you smooth things over if they do question it all. I can’t promise I’ll be too much help when it comes to the dark magic part, but soul magic? I’m pretty sure I can make them see reason on that front at least.”

Lucette smiled thinly at this, then looked to his book. “One more thing...how does that book of yours have knowledge on Earth? Is it just some history book you managed to get when you were Displaced?”

Hamin winced. “Kiiind of. It has a lot more than history, really. Philosophies, mythologies, technologies, the works.” He looked down at it, frowning as he hefted it slightly. “The weirdest thing is that I swear it’s gotten bigger.”

Ventus and Lucette shared a look. “Could...we take a look at it sometime?”

Hamin shrugged. “Sure. So long as you keep it from less virtuous and righteous eyes.”

Lucette’s eyes and Ventus’ optic glowed brighter than normal, and Lucette grinned. “Sweet.”

Then, suddenly, a low rumbling growl. Not that of thunder, Lucette knew, as one couldn’t hear the thunder this deep inside the castle.

She smirked as she looked to the lightly blushing man looking pointedly away from her and her Ghost.

“I’ll summon someone to fetch us some food,” she said, standing up from her chair.

“Thanks…” Hamin said, coughing into a fist.

“Any preferences?” She asked, still smirking.

“Something non-acidic, sugary, or salty,” he replied.

Lucette blinked. “That’s...very specific.”

“Picky, aren’t you?” Ventus noted.

Hamin winced. “Even with G.E.R.D., yes.”

Lucette shared a look with her Ghost, sighed, then shook her head with a smile and walked towards the door. “I’ll make sure they know that.”