Moonlight Interlude

You know, you expected nothing, and yet you're still let down.

"Aw, come on master, where's your sense of wonder? Of adventure?" Astolfo's hand is firm around your wrist as he guides you forward. "You are on the Moon, master! The Moon! A little enthusiasm, will you?"

It's not that you're against it, per se, it's just that...

well...

"Well, this is where all the lost things lay, after all. Can't help it if it gets a little cluttered!" He slows down to wave at the piles and piles of various items around you. "On my version of the Moon, anyway. I'm sure the real Moon is cleaner than that. But dreams don't have to be accurate. That's what's so great about them!"

Sometimes, people say Things, and you've learned quickly not to ask.

Astolfo, bless him, doesn't elaborate. Instead, he points at what looks like, for all intent and purposes, a pile of chairs. "Here, check it out! It's all the time lost gambling." And then, a little further, urns pierced on the side. "And these are the projects you will never get down. And-"

Astolfo suddenly pauses, in front of a lot of oil lamps. A second passes. He is still. Two seconds pass. He is silent.

"... Astolfo?"

"Oh! Sorry, master. I got distracted." Must be quite the distraction then. Astolfo is always moving, and even more often talking. For him to stop both of these things, it must be important. "It's a history that never was."

A history that never was...? "... Like a singularity?"

"Precisely. This one is Orleans, specifically." He raises the lamp a little higher. In the reflection, you see something like fire. "The memories no one hold. The events that never were. Everything you've ever done or said in Orleans, that history erased with the back of the hand. That's what it represents."

... Oh.

But you thought this would be...

"Lost?" He smiles as he sets the lamp down. "I mean, that's precisely why it's here. When I said where everything lost lays, I meant where everything lost lays." He strokes his chin with a thoughtful look. "Though, I guess, in a way, that means nothing is truly lost? Since I am here and all. Whatever is forgotten or tossed away, I can get it back."

"Isn't it kind of cheating?" The universe makes no sense. You've known that for a long time already, obviously. But every once in a while you still get reminded of it full force. "What even are you doing up there?"

Astolfo blinks. This is the first time you've ever seen them so surprised.

"... Aw, master!" They're back to grinning and- oh, they're hugging you. Alright. You can work with that. "I think you're the first person I've ever met who doesn't think me lost."

Huh. Really? "Chaldea is filled with Berserkers. You're a little wild, but I wouldn't call you insane."

"Most masters don't survive a bond with one Berserkers, let alone as many as you, master." He sticks his tongue out at you. "That's fair, though. My insanity is much closer to yours than theirs."

Uh. 

Come again?

"It's easy! Most berserkers' mad enhancement stem from obsession, you feel? Lancelot and poor Artoria, Darius and Iskandar... okay, some times, it's more of a 'no thought head empty' deal, with Tamamo Cat or Hercules, I guess. But you get my point, right?"

He's dragging you among the piles again. "You and I, it's different. Our insanity isn't due to some deep obsession, or because we can't hold a train of thought. We're perceived as insane because we fail at properly mimicking humans."

... This is an Uncomfortable thought. But you kind of get it? You think? "As in, social cues and all?"

"Yeah!" He squeezes your wrist. "I've heard Nightingale threaten you of amputation, like, three times. And you didn't react. At all. Normal people don't do that. They get scared. If you don't act scared, then that must mean you are not normal. So. Insane."

"And you're 'insane' because you have no impulse control and no shame?"

"Yup! And I'm not interested in having any. I'm quite happy like this." He takes a sharp turn suddenly, and starts scaling up a mountain of- jewels? Treasuries? You wonder what this is supposed to represent. "Though, I don't really have the option not to. Such is the nature of the Moon."

"Didn't you say earlier you could get anything back from here? I thought that included your sanity." Or maybe it's buried somewhere too deep for Astolfo to get it back?

But Astolfo shakes his head. "Of course I could. But that'd be useless. My existence is tied to the Moon, in a fundamental way. Like that dragon and Old Man Siegfriend, you see?"

"Isn't it pronounced Siegfried?"

"He's a Siegfriend to me." He sounds awfully proud of himself. "But yeah. I can't not be like this. Because my nature is of the Moon, and the nature of the Moon is to-"

[reflect]

There's something strange in the way he says that word. It's like it wasn't his voice at all. Like it echoed from beneath your very feet, from every golden coin slipping between your fingers.

"I can only partially act normal, because the Moon only partially reflects the sunlight. Here, let me help you up." Ah, finally, the top of the hill. "That's also why most of my noble phantasms are borrowed. I have to [reflect] someone else's power. Because my nature is of the Moon!"

Your hands ache from climbing through sharp jewelry. But, you have to admit, the view is beautiful from here.

And then, something suddenly strikes you. "You are a man."

"That is correct."

"You are a woman."

"That is also correct!" He grabs your hand. His fingers may look delicate, but his palms feel rough and calloused. "I'm whatever people see me as. Man, woman, non-binary, bigender, demigender. I'm all of them. I'm none of them. Your guess is as good as any! I [reflect] what others see me as."

He runs his thumb on the back of your hand, softly. "Ready to run down there?"

What?! Wait, no, hold-

Astolfo doesn't wait for you, obviously. He rushes down the hill and pulls you in his wake, cackling like a madman. FuckfuckfuckfuckFUCKFUCKFUCK-

"Hey hey hey! Master, master, wasn't it fun?"

It was but please give a warning next time, Astolfo.

He laughs again, and reach out to ruffle your hair. "My bad, my bad. But hey, at least we're here! Wasn't the shortcut totally worth it?"

Here?

He was actually guiding you somewhere?

"Obviously." The next pile he drags you to is of bottles. Some small, some large, all filled with what you can only assume to be liquor. "You know, usually, I don't like getting all philosophical. I'm more of an action person, you feel? But for you, I figured I could make the effort."

He tosses a bottle at you. It's quite large; you're so surprised by the weight that it takes you a second to realize your name is written on it.

"... It's not alcohol, is it?"

"Pft, nah. I wouldn't have dragged you here for some cheap wine." He shakes his head. When he speaks next, his voice is just an octave lower. 

"Master. This is your sanity."

...

Ah.

That's... a lot more than you'd thought.

"Yeah." For a fleeting second, he looks- sad? Pitying? It's gone before you can analyse it further. "If you want it back, you just have to drink. It's that simple."

... Just... to drink...

You stare at the bottle. Then Astolfo. Then the bottle again.

You... just need to drink. Just. Need to drink.

Just.

Faintly, you notice your hands are trembling.

Finally, you hear a sigh, and you realize you have no idea how long you've stood here. It could have been hours. It could have been years. It most likely has been a full minute.

Astolfo reaches out, and takes the bottle off your hands. You don't try to stop him.

"I figured you'd do that. But I thought, I should at least offer you the option to have it back, you know?" He sets the bottle back on the pile. "But you're right. This would only do you a disservice."

He turns to you again. Reaches out. Brush hair off your forehead.

"Had you been a little saner, you wouldn't have been able to handle any of this, would you?"