Chapter 34: Volume II: Chapter 1: The Book

“Unbelievable,” Will muttered.

Storming into his one-man hut, he collapsed onto a piece of furniture that passed as a couch. The gel stuffing shifted under him as it cradled his bruised body. He let out a soft, grateful sigh.

Looking around, he tried to find something that could pass as ice. Nothing by his sleeping bag would work, just the sticks he attempted to whittle at night littering the neighboring ground. The small table he and the villagers wrestled into the small space was more promising. A metal cup, sweating with perspiration, sat within arms reach.

He almost cried in relief. Chleo must have left it for him. Forcing an arm to move and pick it up, he downed half of the water before resting it against his blackening eye. Ice clinked against its sides before settling back to melt in silence.

The hut was nice. It reminded him of his lean-to back on Luna, small but private. The first day they arrived, after a few words from Eelock, the villagers all pitched in to help Will and Chleo build the shelters. Odd bits of furniture followed as the villagers searched their homes for unused necessities. When they were presented with the strange bags the locals used for sleeping, Will could have died laughing with the way Chleo swooned.

Later, she told him about the night after she and Dai almost died in the river, after she saved the neon with a ‘magical’ syringe Mic gave her. According to her, it was the best night of sleep she’d ever had. He knew she was still ashamed of the way she’d reacted to seeing Dai’s glow for the first time, especially after their reception in the village.

It was hard for him to understand. After all of his mother’s lessons, all he’d ever wanted was to see a real live Neon in person. He thought of Eelock’s village and smiled around a split lip.

“Guess I got my wish,” he muttered to himself with the soft lilting correctness of a high-born. He grimaced as pain spiked through his ribs. It was his own fault, he reminded himself.

It had all started the third day. After the huts were built and a feast was planned, celebrated, and eaten for Eelock and his crew’s return, Will and Chleo wandered around their new surroundings. It was surreal.

On Luna, everything had gears. Everything had steam. They made sense. The Terran village was nothing like Luna.

They strolled down the dirt path from their temporary huts to the main cliff. It was a quiet, peaceful walk, the trees sheltering them from the bustle and liveliness from the villagers going about their day.

They broke from the trees and were immediately drenched in noise and color.

Light poured from the cliff dwellings for as far as the eye could see, each tinged with the owner’s family color. Even unoccupied, windows were laced with florescent plants and railings with, according to Mic, solar-powered gadgets to ensure the glow never dimmed, not a gear or spit of steam in sight.

Chleo poured over the… tech-knowledge-y, Merk always made fun of Will’s pronunciation, the first day and didn’t quite grasp the concept. By the second, she’d advanced to making something called a bulb light up. As they walked through the Neon haze coating the town square on the third, he listened to her mutter to herself about using the new concepts to rebuild the hover board.

The canal flowed beneath them as they pushed their way through the mid-day crowd. The square rested on a Neon built bridge fit for thousands in the middle of their merchant center. On either side of the water, were temporary huts where a shopper could find anything from cooking gadgets to a gourmet meal, all nestled under the shade of their cliff. Unlike his uncle’s palace on Luna, it was more comforting than looming.

Will nudged Chleo as they walked off of the bridge, nodding toward a group of children playing some sort of game. As she looked up, a young boy, blue streaks through this dark hair clashing slightly with the green glowing from his skin, stepped up to take his turn. Small metal ball primed against his thumb, he flicked, shooting it toward the others floating within the designated area.

It knocked against two, stealing their designs and rocketing them outside the game’s boundaries. Their owners groaned as they chased after their blank pieces, nothing but a metallic shine left. A young girl, only a shade slightly deeper than Dai’s, took a running jump onto a nearby crate using her momentum to leap halfway up a hut’s wall to pluck her losing piece from the spot it’d hovered to a stop.

The other sprinted toward the square. His red skin leaving the semblance of a streak behind him. He dove trying to reach the ball before it crossed into the square. Will held his breath along with the kids.

Red missed. His desperate attempt swiping to the piece’s side. It crossed over an invisible barrier and immediately died dropping to the ground as if its strings were cut. The small contingent of mini-Neons hissed their displeasure singing out good-natured jibes in their native language.

Immediately, the village’s Pride descended on Red, abandoning her post by the square’s ceremonial flame. Will couldn’t understand the conversation that followed, but the slump to the boy’s shoulders made it fairly clear. It was something Eelock drilled into them the first day, no tech in the square.

“Each Neon town has a ceremonial flame,” he explained. “At a village’s conception it is lit from a torch carrying a neighboring flame. It is said that the original was created from the ancestral fires of Umbra.” He smiled and gave a small shake of his head at their questioning looks. “It’s not important. What is important is that no technology ever gets anywhere near our flame. If it were to go out for any reason, we would have to pack up and move.”

“What? Why?” Chleo asked. Will watched as she turned a longing look toward the cliff dwellings.

“That is the way it is done.” Eelock shrugged. “There are stories of plague and strife falling upon flameless towns, and no one wants to temp the fates.”

Will’s brow furrowed. “So that’s why you have the Pride. They guard the flame?”

Eelock hesitated. “Yes, that is part of it. A Pride is always posted by a flame’s side to ensure it remains lit in case of weather or strong winds.” He smiled and let out a small laugh. “But over the years they’ve grown to act more as what you would call a guard. They ensure both the flame and the village remain safe.”

Will shook himself from the memory and watched as the Pride reached down plucking the toy from the cobbled ground and plopping it back into the boy’s hand. With a pat on his shoulder, she gave him a small nudge toward his friends. He shot her a rueful grin before scurrying off.

“I was thinking whatever tech they had in the toys might help with your hover board idea,” Will said turning to Chleo. She looked up surprised.

“How did you know I was planning on rebuilding the hover board?” He gave her a look. “Oh, right.” She bit her lip. “I’ve really got to stop thinking out loud.”

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“I think it’s cute.” He reached a hand up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear hoping it was the right move. She smiled back. It seemed like it was.

“It looks like the same thing Mic uses for his bees. I’ll have to ask him about it once we get to the dock.”

“E’suse me,” a small voice worked at asking them in their language. They looked down at the small, green boy holding a colorfully decorated game piece. “You hooman?”

Will saw Chleo smile from the corner of his eye, throwing a lopsided grin onto his own face. “Yes, we are,” he answered.

An excited tilt crinkled the kid’s eyes, before he scrunched them in concentration. “Can I… to…” He pursed his lips trying to remember the word. “Touch?” He held up he hand pointing at the palm.

Will shared a look with Chleo, and shrugged. “Sure,” he said holding out his hand. The kid gave an excited bounce on the balls of his feet, sticking a finger out to prod at Will’s palm. His mouth fell open in wonder, and soon they were surrounded by a sea of mini-Neons.

The children shot questions at them in their own language, forgetting that Will and Chleo couldn’t understand. Small hands reached from every direction trying to poke at their glow-less skin. It was all a bit overwhelming until another voice joined the fray.

The clicking and singing lilt that filled Dai’s voice was, by far, Will and Chleos' favorite interpretation of the language. Of course, Merk made fun of her accent, but Merk made fun of everyone. It swooped in on the children like a lullaby, hushing them into a semblance of order.

One by one, she answered their questions until their attention was, once again, stolen by their game. “Seems like you’ve picked up some admirers,” she said turning to smile at them, her pixie face free to fill the area in a light blue sheen. Will was happy she didn’t have to hide behind her hood anymore.

“Who knew being normal could be so interesting?” Chleo laughed.

“Who says you’re normal?” Dai winked.

Chleo raised a thoughtful brow before conceding the point. She turned back to the game, tilting her head. “What’s with the marbles?” she asked. “Do they use the same properties as Mic’s-”

“Bees?” Dai finished for her. “They’re exactly the same. Zip”— she nodded toward the game— “is how we learn to aim.” At Will’s questioning look she added, “What, you thought they found their targets on their own?”

“Nope,” he turned a sheepish look back toward the kids. A green glow lit his pocket, and he groaned. Walking around with a lie detecting watch wasn’t always in his best interest. The girls laughed. “Well, I never saw anyone shoot them before,” he defended himself matching their mirth. “People usually just start dropping.”

Disaster wasn’t a strong enough word for their escape from Luna. The others fought their way through his uncle’s palace while he ran by their side ducking under stray darts. He was the weak link only useful as a human map. Even Chleo was able to help take out guards, and she’d been through… well, he still wasn’t sure. She refused to talk about it, but Guild custody was never kind to prisoners.

Will refused to remain helpless. “Do you think we could get a set?” he asked trying for nonchalance, landing on obvious.

“Sure.” Dai smiled before sliding into a smirk. “We can get you into a few Pride recruit sessions, too, if you want. Brush up on some hand-to-hand. Maybe throw in some obstacle courses for fun.”

Will’s face brightened. He would learn to defend himself. If nothing else, he would learn to flick a bee in the right direction, and an obstacle course sounded fun… as long as it wasn’t too high.

It was. The obstacles were high and the pip-squeak Neons he trained with could run, jump, and fight circles around him. They were kids for Star’s sake.

Chleo joined them one day, and while not completely keeping up with the recruits, trailed at a respectable distance. Will tried to be happy for her. Jealousy was a petty emotion, but he couldn’t help it. They both lived similar lives on Luna. They should have been at similar levels. Instead, thanks to one injection from his insidious uncle’s Guild, she came out winning a few sparring matches against the annoyingly quick ten-year-olds. He came out as one giant bruise.

He lifted the ice filled glass from his black eye and took another sip of water. With a sigh, he placed it back on the table, catching sight of the book sitting on the corner. Green emanated from it’s cover giving the room a cozy forest-like feel.

Will reached for it, deciding it was time he try to figure out what all the fuss was about. As his hand made contact, the pigments dancing across the face scattered, only red brave enough to remain. His forest became a sunset.

His brow furrowed. It was the first time the book had ever glowed anything other than green in his grasp. Slowly, the letters on the cover translated into a script that he could read.

“Book of Namo,” he read aloud. “What do you have for me?”

He moved to crack it open.

Chleo threw the hut’s flap open.

“Will, you have to come now,” she said pulling him to his feet, careful to avoid the bruises she knew about. He grimaced when she grabbed one she didn’t. “It’s dad.” Will worried over the desperate gleam lighting her eyes. “He’s awake.”

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