Saccharine

"**Saccharine**" is the ninth episode of Season One of *The Demon's Light*.

## Synopsis

After Alchemilia Corporation's manhunt is called off, the fugitives situate themselves with Melissa's family.

## Narrative

### **Part I**

After a short drive eastward to the heart of Silivia, Richard's station wagon pulled into an asphalt parking lot. The rain from the night before still rested in the ground's cracks, reflecting the morning light across the black surface and towards the police station.

They had come here at Melissa's behest after Savannah failed to turn up at the hospital. It was a multi-floored building, taller and cleaner than any others nearby. Two flags stood in front, neither of which Atticus could place.

"You should stay here, Chris," Richard stated as the others stepped out of the car, "It's best if you lay low. I don't think non-police androids are allowed inside, anyways."

"Alright," Chris nodded.

"Let's hurry up," Marshall grumbled. "The quicker we're out of here, the better."

"I'm sure everything'll be fine," Steven tried to reassure him.

"Whatever."

As the group entered, they stepped into a tiled reception area. Offices were visible at the top of a nearby staircase. Richard pressed forward and led the group towards the reception desk. Two front desk officers were seated there, both typing into large desktops.

"Excuse me, sir," Richard began. "We would like to report a missing person."

"Shocking," the older officer replied sarcastically as he continued to type into the computer. The young second officer stopped his task and looked up at the group.

"Can you please provide details? I'll make the report." The officer reached for a legal pad and a pen.

Richard looked back at the teenagers, beckoning for them to step forward.

"Her name is Savannah Whitesmith," Melissa answered, pushing her way to the front of the group. "She's, um, she's around the same age as us."

"What is her birthday?"

The group looked at each other in silence.

"Okay, uh, where did you last see her?"

"Uh," Melissa refrained from explaining the full story to the officers, "She was leaving Paulina Street."

"Before or after the attack?"

"Before," Atticus stated.

"What is her home address?"

"Dunno, first met her in Gladea," Marshall added.

"Okay, so what clothes was she wearing?"

"She was wearing a gray shirt and black pants," Melissa answered.

"Do you have a picture of her?"

"No," Melissa's voice trailed off.

"I see," the officer said, placing the pen down. "I'll file the report as soon as I can, but you didn't give us a lot to work with," he sighed, "If Savannah pops up, please let us know."

He grabbed a card from a nearby stack and handed it to Richard.

"Thank you," Richard said, before continuing. "However, there's one more thing you can help us with."

Richard grabbed Atticus' arm and pulled him to the front of the group. "Do you know of any missing people reports that fit his description? He's an amnesiac and we're trying to find his family."

The officer glanced at Atticus.

"Well, sir, due to the Sabaoth attack, we have a lot of missing people reports filed. It's going to take a lot of work to go through those records."

"Are there any reports before the attack then? We found him yesterday morning."

The officer turned to the desktop and started typing into it. "I don't see any reports matching his description. What is his name?"

"Uh, I think it's Atticus Anoethite," Atticus stammered.

"Yeah, there's nothing," the officer replied, after a short pause.

"Alright, thank you," Richard nodded. "I guess that concludes our business here."

Walking out of the police station, Melissa groaned. "That was such a failure, how are we going to find Savannah like this?"

"The officer was right," Atticus responded, stepping off the sidewalk and heading towards Richard's car. "We weren't prepared at all, but it's not our fault. We only knew her for half a day."

"Who cares?" Marshall half-muttered, behind the rest of the group.

The group reached Richard's car and opened the various doors, getting into their seats. Instantly they noticed Chris running his hands along the seats in front of him, repeatedly tracing them and counting.

"What the hell are you doing? Are you stupid?" Marshall asked, sitting next to him.

"Uh, welcome back, guys," Chris answered, ignoring the questions and pulling his hands back.

"It's odd that we didn't find any information on Atticus," Steven started, sitting in the passenger's seat. "Do you think it's possible that he lives in Gladea as well?"

"No," Atticus spoke up. "I'm not certain, but I don't think I did. Silivia feels… I don't know, familiar."

"Maybe he's not a missing person," Marshall commented. "I mean, think about it. We don't even know how old he is, he could just, y'know, live alone. Maybe he went for a walk in the forest and hit his head."

Disinterested in continuing the conversation, Atticus leaned his head against the window, watching the passing buildings. Most were dilapidated, with wounds visibly older than the attack the night before.

"What happened to this city?"

"What do you mean?" Steven asked.

"There's a lot of damage everywhere. Is this a bad part of town or something?"

Richard stared ahead. "Nobody lives in this part of town. It's been like this since the war started."

After a moment of quietness passed, Richard slowed the vehicle down and made a left turn. On this road, traffic was heavier. Melissa took the chance to start a new conversation.

"Shortly after we woke up at the barn, there was this big, uh," she struggled with the word, "*thing* in the sky. It lit everything up red."

"You saw the Light?" Richard asked.

"What?"

"The Demon's Light. The glowing red sky orb, it's what you just described," Steven responded.

"It's some sort of a self-contained burst of energy," Richard explained. "Its levels are off the charts on all readings."

"What do you think it is?" Melissa asked. "Like, where does it come from?"

"Who knows? Nobody has been able to touch the thing. It travels around Euclid at very high speeds. Right now, it's in our hemisphere. The orbit is largely inconsistent. My lab assistant, Beth, is writing a thesis on the Light currently. Maybe you can check it out later if you're interested."

After driving to the Laboratory of the Unexplainable, the Devlins led the group inside and upstairs. At the top of the stairs was the living quarters — a large living room with two couches placed in front of an entertainment system, a kitchen located directly across, and three doors at the end of the hall that led to bedrooms.

Steven stepped to the front of the group as they entered. "Well, guys, here it is. This is our home."

"Our rooms are along the hall," Richard declared. "Atticus, Marshall, welcome yourselves to the couches. Chris can recharge in the lab during the night if he needs to. I want you all to wake up at a reasonable hour, I'm going to make an appointment for you two tomorrow."

"What for?" Atticus asked.

"The amnesia. There are some treatments out there, if you know where to look. I have a friend — a doctor — who specializes in neurology," Richard said, "We should probably all head to bed soon."

"Come on, Melissa. I'll take you to your room, maybe it will help you remember something," Steven said, headed towards the bedrooms, Melissa at his side.

Melissa peeked inside through the doorway. She scanned the room's decor. It was lived-in, with small trophies lining the shelves and colorful fabrics on the furniture, posters and pictures stamped across the walls. Steven stepped to the side as she walked through the door.

"Wow, this was mine?" Melissa asked, examining a trophy that read 'EXCELLENCY IN GYMNASTICS.'

"Yeah, Uncle Richard kept it the same as it was when, uh, when you disappeared." Steven said, wiping down a desk with his sleeve. "We should probably get cleaning before you settle in."

Melissa stepped further inside and observed the room better. None of it seemed familiar to her. "Um, this might be a stupid question, but how long have I — we — lived here?"

"Just about our whole lives. Our parents…" Steven paused as he considered his next words.. "They died when we were 4 years old. We grew up with Uncle Richard and Aunt Binita."

"Aunt Binita? Where is she now?"

Steven shifted uncomfortably, the topic clearly brought back painful memories for him. "Do you remember the 'family issues' we had that I mentioned the other day? Well, uh, Aunt Binita died a little while before you left, Uncle Richard thought her death was a part of the reason you left."

Melissa nodded and her eyes began to wander around her room. A thin layer of dust was settled on everything. "How did she die? And our parents, what happened to them?"

"...So, do you want to read one of your old books or something?" Steven asked, clearly trying to change the topic, "That can probably take your mind off of… everything."

"No, I don't want to take my mind off anything, I want to know who I am and what happened to our family."

"Fine, I'll tell you what I know," Steven stated sitting on the bed, patting the mattress for Melissa to follow. Once she did, he began.

"We had just turned sixteen, Aunt Binita had been reassigned by her job to work at a remote location. While she was there, there was a storm and she ended up getting killed in some freak accident, we didn't get informed until days after the fact. It broke all of our hearts, she had raised us like we were her own, so it felt like we lost a mother. I know you probably don't remember though."

Melissa was staring down at her hands as Steven spoke, running through her thoughts trying to find some hint of a memory about this woman he spoke about When he finished, she allowed him to pause before asking her next question. "But what about our biological parents? Our mother and father?"

"Uncle Richard told me that they died in a house fire when we were small children, around four years old. He said he had to pull us out himself, but it was already too late for Dad," Steven answered honestly.

"And Mom too right?" she asked, confused.

"Well, yes. As we grew up, he would never really talk about our mom — just our dad. I always assumed they weren't really friends. Has any of this helped you remember anything at all?"

"No, I feel horrible. I know I care about you, I know I care about the people you mentioned, I just can't remember any of it. I keep drawing up blanks, what type of sister can't even remember her own twin brother?!" she exclaimed, becoming obviously upset.

"A very good sister, it's not like you went and lost your memory on purpose. It's not your fault, I'm sure your memory will come back eventually, and then you and I can hang out while you tell me where you have been the last few years and about all your adventures," Steven answered, giving her a gentle side hug. "Now how about you check out some of those books? You used to read them over and over, they were your favorite."

She gave a soft smile, hugging him back. "I might not be able to remember you, but I can tell you're a pretty good brother. And sure, I'll check them out."

The exterior of the facility had been illuminated by its signature bright lights, and the world around it was dark. The employees had long since gone home, and the guests had gone to bed. A faint buzz of a television from Melissa's room was all that could be heard.

Slipping off a blue-colored blanket, Marshall walked carefully past Atticus into the kitchen across the room. He pulled his hoodie off the wall rack and put it on as quietly as he could. Reaching into the cabinet, he grabbed himself a glass and slowly filled in the sink.

As he took a sip, footsteps approached behind him. He dumped the contents of the glass out and turned around.

"What are you doing up?" Atticus asked him.

"I, uh, just got a glass of water. Can't sleep, y'know," he lied.

"Then why did you just put your hoodie on?" Atticus interrogated.

"...I'm cold, yeah."

"That's a lie."

"No, I swear! Freezing in he—"

"Why are you leaving?"

"I'm *not* leaving. I was just going to get some fresh air outside. It's chilly out there."

"I've been around you long enough to know how you act. You're trying to leave as fast as you can."

"I—"

"Remember what you did at Alchemilia? At Aqualung's and then in the alleyway? You were trying to use me and make me your 'partner-in-crime,' and now that you've realized you can't, you're bolting for the door."

"Well…"

"I'm going back to bed, just go. I won't be there when you fall again."

Atticus turned away from Marshall and headed back to the couch. Marshall quietly turned his attention to the kitchen window and stared out into the night.

### **Part II**

Standing outside the Maninder Cognitive Science Center, Atticus rubbed his eyes. It was early in the morning and he felt cold. After waking everyone up, Richard announced that it was time to leave and the group prepared. Despite Richard's original plan to keep Chris at the lab, a protest from Melissa led to the decision that he could join, albeit with a hoodie to cover his identity.

"What's the treatment going to be like?" Melissa spoke, looking over to Richard.

"Well, the neural input from the—" Richard attempted to explain, before electing to drop the sentence altogether. "It'll reorganize your thoughts. After you."

The group stepped into a reception area with a shiny wooden flooring. Aside from the reception clerk, the room was mostly empty. They were currently standing under a row of paintings that Richard explained depicted the Powers, Euclid's pantheon of deities.

Behind them, two employees could be heard entering the room. Turning around, Atticus saw that it was a middle-aged man with washed-out blonde hair and a younger, short copper-skinned woman. Both of them were wearing white lab coats.

"—have Rockwell pick up some more Aiolan salts, and..." The older man explained as they walked, "That should be it."

"Excuse me, can you give us some assistance?" Richard asked. "My name is Richard Devlin."

The man turned his attention to Richard and stepped forward, offering his hand.

"Good morning, I'm Director Marcus Ferguson, what do you need?"

"I called last night and scheduled an appointment."

The other man paused, seemingly thinking. "Ah, yes. Devlin, with the two patients. Miss Cane, can you take them to the backrooms and begin their appointment? I have other work to attend to."

Before the young woman could reply, Ferguson started walking away. Atticus glanced over at her and noticed she was staring at the group.

Catching his gaze, she started to speak in a hurry.

"Well, hi! I'm Blossom Cane and I am an assistant here. Before we start, who are the patients? The others will have to wait here."

"I'm one of them," Atticus stepped forward, and pointed towards Melissa. "Her too."

"Alright, thanks. Doctor Devlin, you can come too," Blossom started.

"Wait, can I come as well?" Steven asked. "I won't get in the way of the treatment, but I want to be with my sister."

"Um, sure, I suppose that would be okay."

"Are you two going to be alright on your own?" Richard asked, turning to face Marshall and Chris.

"I think so," Chris responded.

"Alright, follow me," Blossom said, leading the group towards a door and into a hallway.

"Okay, so you guys are here for the mnestic therapy treatment, right?" Blossom asked as she led the group to an exam room.

"Yeah," Steven answered. "My sister and her friend have been suffering from amnesia for the past few days and we're hoping this provides a solution."

"Yes, I've heard great things about this treatment," Richard added.

Nodding, Blossom started to speak again. "Take your seats over there please. Meanwhile, I need to take the patients' blood pressure and handle a few things before we begin. Who wants to go first?"

Finishing her sentence, she pointed at the hospital bed in the center of the room. Atticus sat on the edge and waited as the woman grabbed a blood pressure cuff.

"So, what did you say your name was?"

"Oh, I didn't mention it. It's Atticus."

"That's a cool name, I haven't heard of many people named that."

Returning, she wrapped the cuff around his arm and told him to take a deep breath.

As she started reading the meter, Atticus caught himself staring at her. Noticing, she flashed a smile, which caused him to quickly avert his eyes.

"So, uh, what is this treatment like? I haven't really heard a clear answer yet."

"Well, first of all, this is a very intensive therapy. You'll be given an injection and some pills to take. You'll feel very sleepy afterwards, this is normal. Generally, it helps to have someone the patient knows involved," Blossom continued, unwrapping the cuff slowly.

"Oh? That's not good because I don't remember anyone. That's why I need this treatment, I don't even know who I am."

"That's… horrible," Blossom muttered, placing the cuff down. "We'll try our best to restore your memory, but I don't think we've ever had a patient who suffered from such severe amnesia."

Nodding, Atticus sighed. "Are we done here?"

"Yes, your blood pressure is good. Miss, can you come over here now?"

"Okay."

Atticus hopped off as Melissa took his place and took a seat beside Richard and Steven. The older man nodded reassuringly at him.

Once she was finished with Melissa, Blossom placed the cuff down. "Alright, I'll be right back."

"Just relax," Richard started. "I know this might be scary, but it's going to be alright."

Atticus looked over to Melissa, who had her eye forward. She was nervously chewing on the skin of her lip, her eyes wide and unblinking.

"Uncle Richard is right," Steven assured her.

"Samuel, I'm not sure if I can apply the sedative. I'm still new and I haven't handled this stuff on my own before. I'm feeling overwhelmed."

Blossom could be heard coming down the hall, seemingly in conversation with another person. The other person murmured something in reply and the two entered the room. Blossom's companion was a lean male with dark, curly hair and a brown skin tone. He seemed to be in his thirties, and was carrying a clipboard. He held up a hand and smiled in the direction of the others in the room.

"Hey, all. I'm Doctor Samuel Brownlee. One moment," he said. His voice was soft-spoken.

The doctor walked towards a nearby table and sat down. He looked through his clipboard, jotting things with a red pen along the way. After a brief minute, he got up and approached the group.

Out of the corner of his eye, the doctor noticed Blossom was still standing in the same place as when she came back. He quietly spoke to her.

"C'mon."

Blossom made her way towards where Samuel was standing. The two took two chairs and sat down in front of the others.

There was a brief moment of silence. Ever so slightly, Blossom's leg started moving up and down. Once more, Doctor Brownlee seemed to be fiddling with his clipboard.

"Nice seeing you again, Sam," Richard said.

"Oh," Brownlee looked up. "Rich? Really?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. I - uh, never got the chance to get the name of who called last night. Didn't really notice you when I walked in, either. How's it going?"

"Hey, don't worry about it," Richard held out a hand for Doctor Brownlee for a shake that was soon received. "Everything's fine, all things considered."

"Glad to hear that, man. And I see you've brought your nephew here. How have you been doing, Steven?"

Seemingly uncomfortable with the attention shifted to him, Steven shrugged and looked over at Melissa and Atticus. "Well..."

The doctor then noticed the two patients, both still waiting.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," he quickly checked his clipboard. "Mr. Atticus Anoethite and Ms. Melissa Devlin, right?"

"Yes," Atticus replied.

"That's right," Melissa responded.

"And how are you guys doing? Just looked over your case," Samuel took a breath. "Sorry this happened to you."

"A bit nervous, right now," Melissa added. "What are you guys planning on doing?"

"Honestly, nothing that serious. Would you two like a glass of water?" Brownlee offered.

Atticus and Melissa looked at each other for a moment.

"Sure, that would be fine."

Doctor Brownlee gave a light grin and got up from his chair. He walked to a nearby water dispenser.

"You know my family, sir?" Melissa asked over the sound of water filling into a cup.

"Sort of."

The doctor shut off the dispenser and started walking back.

"A few years ago, I met Rich. Gabriel Arsene actually came down to the Center to give an address, and both of us, along with your brother, —"

Atticus and Melissa stopped themselves from saying anything.

"— happened to attend. We just sorta started talking about things. Eventually, Richard gave me an invite to come down to the lab. Then it became an off-and-on thing."

The doctor returned to the group and gave the two their cups. Blossom was surprised to see that Samuel also brought a third cup for her. Everyone took a sip.

"Have you two ever heard of hypnosis?" Doctor Brownlee asked.

The two looked at Samuel with a puzzled look.

"Oh, uh, we're not gonna do anything like that, no. But the idea's the same. Really, you guys shouldn't worry," Samuel elaborated. "It's just a tiny injection and a pill. Afterward, someone talks to you. That's all."

Atticus placed his cup down. "That doesn't sound too bad. And this actually works?"

"A year ago, we worked with a lady named Ellen. Sweet person, really. She was from Downtown Silivia. Unfortunately, uh..."

He cleared his throat.

"A part of her apartment just collapsed one night. A portion of the ceiling, I think. She got caught in it. They rushed Ellen to the hospital as fast as they could. Things weren't looking great."

Everyone listened in, curiously.

"So, they worked on her. Hospital wasn't confident that she'd make it. But then, a few weeks pass by, and she recovers. Miracle of Xeren, her family told me."

"But... because of some head trauma, Ellen couldn't remember her daughter." Samuel paused. "It hurts, seeing that. I'm feeling the same thing now, with you guys, as I did back then."

"The family came to the center because Masquerade couldn't do much, unfortunately. We were worried we wouldn't be able to do anything for Ellen, but then an idea came to mind. The Center had some papers from before the war that looked promising, so we got to work. And eventually, we had something," Samuel explained. "What we developed back then isn't all too different from what we have now. Medicine targeting the brain, that sort of thing. But even though we had something, I didn't want to give it to her."

"Ellen had already been through a lot, and I didn't want to risk something even worse happening. I thought about it for days. I just didn't want to have that... guilt, you know?" Samuel gave a slight smile.

"The other doctors were also unsure. Not only did the doctors not want to do it, nobody wanted to be the one to administer the treatment. Her family just wanted it so badly, though."

He leaned back in his chair.

"After a lot of conversation, *I* decided to do it. Someone had to. When it was time, I decided to administer a very, very tiny amount of medicine."

"Her daughter could tell we were nervous about the whole thing. So, she gave us a little help. She offered to be close to Ellen for the whole process. Held her tight, talked to her about her life. Ellen eventually fell into a deep sleep. I was biting my nails as the hours went on."

"And... it worked! After waking up a few hours later, Ellen started to recognize her daughter again. Ellen had thanked us for developing the medicine, but I honestly think more credit can be given to her daughter."

"When an amnesiac gets the right medicine along with someone to coach them, focus their thinking, someone to really *support* them, great things can happen. This was the first time this ever happened, seriously. We checked as hard as we could, and we couldn't find any records of something like this ever happening. This whole thing is just so simple, but it's incredible at the same time."

Samuel caught his breath.

"Do you guys, um, understand?"

"That's astounding, really," Steven remarked. "I knew this treatment had a good reputation, but wow."

"Really, there's nothing to worry about. Trust me, you're in really good hands. Since then, we've had more and more people coming for help, and more people recovering. A long time ago, things might not have been so simple. You'll be helping Melissa in her treatment, right, Rich?"

"I want to do it," Steven responded before Richard could answer. "I know I said I wouldn't get in the way of her treatment, but I think it's better if I do this."

"If Melissa agrees, that's fine with me," Richard replied.

"Right, but that leads us to a problem," Blossom started. "Atticus doesn't have any family that he's aware of, how are we going to handle his treatment?"

"Oh, right," Samuel paused. "Maybe you can help him, Blossom?"

"Me? But I barely know him!"

"I'm aware, but there's a small connection and it might help. The two of you are close in age and seem to be friendly together. If you're willing, then I guess it's up to Mister Anoethite."

"I think it's worth trying," Atticus put in.

Slipping on a pair of latex gloves, Blossom let out a small breath and entered the room. Across from her, Atticus laid on a bed, with Samuel attaching an intravenous tube to his arm. Once he was finished, Samuel turned towards a table and began to work on it. Despite the circumstances, Blossom couldn't help but notice how calm Atticus appeared. *If this was me, I'd be freaking out.*

Turning to face them again, Samuel handed Atticus a paper cup. "Take this, you're going to need it."

While Atticus did as he was instructed, Blossom made her way over to Samuel. "Is it time to administer the sedative?"

"Yes," Samuel reached towards the table and pulled back a syringe and a vial. "Mister Anoethite, are you ready?"

Atticus nodded and laid his head back, as Samuel handed the objects to Blossom. "I'll watch, but I want you to handle this. You need the experience."

"Sir, are you sure? This is important and I don't want to mess things up or, uh, harm him."

"Like I said, I'll watch and make sure things run smoothly. Now - start."

Shakily popping a hole into the vial and sliding the needle in, she withdrew the liquid and walked towards Atticus.

"Will it be painful?' Atticus asked.

"Uh," Blossom glanced away. "I don't think so. You'll be too out of it to feel anything, probably."

Atticus turned his gaze towards a monitor that displayed a fluorescent set of graphics, and Blossom's eyes followed. Upon closer inspection, they corresponded to his bodily functions. She looked back to the IV bag, as she moved the needle closer.

She flinched as she pressed the fluid in, the liquid in the bag clouding violet as it drained down the line and into Atticus' veins.

"Alright," Blossom said, as the numbers on the screen began to rapidly lower. She nervously flipped through a set of papers next to Samuel. "Imagine you're standing in a desert..."