Chapter 17: 16 – Tough Conversations

"What is it like to be 634 years old? Pretty sick. Next question."

 

- The Unabridged Interview of Veldraken Juinper, ARCborn

 

❄

 

Mori couldn’t deny that she felt like a different person on her way back to her cabin. Her hair no longer touched her shoulders, and she couldn't stop rubbing her thumbs across her smooth, polished nails, couldn’t stop patting her cheeks. It felt as if Irane had extracted every molecule of oil from her pores and left velvety smoothness in its place.

She hated to admit that—she felt refreshed.

Which made what she had to tell the twins next all the more difficult. She had been loathing this moment ever since she'd woken up on the ship.

Unlocking the door with her nanite signature, she stepped into her cabin. The twins—who had essentially abandoned their own quarters and taken over hers—peered up at her from their personal holos, blinking and moving their mouths before saying anything.

“What happened to you?” Jeren said.

Launi hopped to her feet and strode over, reaching up and running her fingers through Mori’s hair. “Woah, Mori. You look so pretty.”

Mori blushed, turned and sat down at her desk in the corner of the room, sending her personal holo through the integrated tech in the desk to provide a wider projection and access to the keyboard. She brought up her training notes and began cataloging today’s results, including the embarrassing realization she’d put herself behind by not being able to iron out her cycling. All of this to avoid the uncomfortable discussion she needed to have.

Launi followed her over. “Who cut your hair? I want them to do me next!”

Mori smirked. “Irane.”

“The plant lady with terrible puns?” Jeren asked, shocked.

“The very same.” Mori exited out of her notes, turned to face the two of them, a heaviness pressing at her chest. A whole month had passed since what happened to their home, and every moment Mori hadn't spent training she had spent here with them, sharing dinners, catching up on episodes of the rom-com they had watched back on Telark, finding out it was discontinued over a decade ago. The anger, the compulsion, the hurt, all of it still swelled and contorted within her like a festering wound, but without the twins here by her side… she didn’t want to think about the state she would be in.

“I leave tomorrow for the Entry Exams.”

“We know.” They both said in unison.

Mori nodded, wetting her tongue, getting ready for the hard part. “Which means you both will be—

“Gonna stop you right there,” Launi said.

Mori blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Adin said we can stay on the ship and become official members of the crew.” said Jeren, puffing out his chest.

Mori shot to her feet. “Adin said what!? Out of the question. Way too dangerous. If anyone found out who I was…”

Jeren crossed his arms. “You think we would be happy moving in with crotchety old foster parents, sitting on our asses—”

“Language.” Mori said.

“—-watching as you rise through the Ascension alone to take down the baddie who killed our grandma?”

“How did you find out about the foster...” Mori shook her head. Adin. “Listen, I promised to keep you two safe. I can’t protect you while I’m away if things go wrong at—”

“We aren’t kids anymore,” said Launi.

“You’re eight,” countered Mori.

She raised a finger. “Eight and a half.”

“Besides,” Jeren said. “Adin will keep us safe. And eventually the two of us will grow strong enough not to need protection.” Jeren thumbed his nose. “I’ll probably be Favored one of these days… with real awesome manifestations, too. Then I’ll secretly fight my way to the top to back you up!”

Launi elbowed him. “Not before me! I was born eight minutes before you.”

Jeren glared at her, and Launi continued, “what my young and not-as-mature-as-me brother is saying is, don’t worry about us. We’ll be here when you come back… whenever that is, and we’ll be cheering you on over the holo-V, obviously!”

Mori slumped, a smile spreading across her face. She suppressed the tears at the back of her eyes and dropped to a knee. Prime had kept this operation hidden this long, right? And she did trust Adin, even though he liked to go around her back. “Alright, I’ll allow it, but only if you both give me a hug.”

She wrapped them up in her arms, not sure whether to feel proud or worried about how mature the two were becoming.

And as if sensing emotional moments, Adin’s voice came through the door with a knock. “Delivery!” His voice was muffled.

Mori savored the moment a tad longer before opening the door. Adin walked in with a set of clothes wrapped in translucent packaging, pausing and taking in Mori’s hair. “Lookin’ fresh, Space cowpoke. You'll be sure to turn heads at the entry exams.” He punched the air. “Then pow! Right when they least expect it.”

He leaned down to Jeren and Launi and pretended to whisper. At least, Mori assumed he was pretending. If not, he was doing a bad job of it. “How’dshe take it?”

The two twins gave thumbs up. He nodded and stood, extending the package to Mori. “For you. Designed it myself.”

She took the packaged black, nanofiber suit into her hands, raised a brow. “But I already have one?”

“Turn it over.”

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Mori did just that. A large geometric flame composed of various shades of blue stared back at her, imprinted onto the back of the fabric. She immediately opened it and let the suit unfold from the back. The flame fit square between the shoulders down. It was the same flame as her mother’s pendant. Mori gripped the necklace resting above her chest.

“Since you can’t wear the necklace in arena battles, you’ll have this.”

Mori looked up. “I don’t understand. Won’t this draw the Enforcers immediately?”

Adin shook his head. “You’re as good as invisible. No one will associate that symbol with your parents, or the frostfire sect for that matter. All they will think of when they see that symbol is of Prime, renowned Brawler for team Stellar.”

Mori’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“Have you not looked at any of the holo-recordings I sent you?” Jeren asked.

Mori knew for a fact there was a steady list of links the two had sent her during her training. She spent as little time as she could exploring the holo-net. One, because time doing that was time not training, and two, every time she saw a thumbnail for a team fight sent from Jeren or Launi, all she could think of was Black Lightning Killuan’s face. “Uhm…”

“Prime wore that symbol from the Lower Rims all the way to Apogee,” said Adin. “She received a lot of flack for it in the beginning, but as soon as she started winning matches, old Osai symbology became sort of punk, fashionable, but the frostfire symbol in the Ascension will always be associated with Prime. And as her sponsored candidate, now it will be associated with you.”

Mori rubbed the geometric flames between her thumbs and fingers. “Why?”

Adin shrugged. “I’ve known Prime for a long time. One small, seemingly random gesture she does today could ten years down the line all have been a part of some master plan. My thoughts are that she probably did it for you.”

The words brought up a knot of emotions in Mori, and she didn’t know quite how to untangle it. Prime had said her parents entrusted her to lay the groundwork for Mori. Was this what she meant? “Thank you, Mori,” said.

“I did do a fantastic job, if I do say so myself,” Adin scratched his mustache, “but you can thank Prime when you see her next.”

Mori nodded.

“And have you thought of how you’d like to cover the scarring on your arms yet?” Adin asked.

She rubbed her scarred, right arm, remembering the ruptured channels, her Vessel bleeding anima. She had her birth mother’s necklace and the frostfire flame on her suit to remember her, but all she had of her father were these scars. “I have an idea, but can I decide in the morning?”

Adin shrugged. “Cutting it close. I like it.” He turned for the hatch. “Alright, cowpokes. Rest up. It’s gonna be a big day for everyone tomorrow.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Jeren and Launi saluted.

Adin grinned, and exited the cabin, the hatch closing in a hiss of compressed air behind him.

Mori sighed. So much was happening at once. It felt like she was balancing on a wire across the frozen cliffs of the tundra—one misstep and the ground would rise to claim her. It was her last night on the Ion Blade before she left for the Entry Exams—school. She decided to make the most of it, pulling her holo up through the built-in desk display in wide format. She couldn’t put off watching arena recordings forever. “How about we see what goodies you two have been sending me all month.”

The twins cheered, piling behind her as she opened Jeren’s messages, finding a thumbnail of a young Prime frozen in a dash in a city simulated map, encircling stands in the background. Her kitsune mask was white and not polished steel, no blue light humming behind the eye sockets and seam. Her hair—which Mori had never seen before—streaked behind her in shades of cool blue. The Stellar team nano-fiber suit was white with blue and gold trimmings, various sponsorship patches on her sleeves, and above her right breast, the frostfire sect emblem.

“Ooh, this is a good one!” Jeren said. “Stellar vs. Chaos Theory.”

Mori played the video.

Prime dodged as the city street fissured beneath her, a Striker in a red and orange nanofiber suit with a black and red fauxhawk circling the building behind her.

Prime spun, sliding to a stop at the end of the street, facing off against the Striker despite having two avenues of continued escape.

“What do we have here, folks?” The announcer spoke over the recording. “Stellar’s Brawler is deciding to stand her ground—no pun intended—solo against the Lower Rim’s current darling Striker, Tremble! A big risk, but let’s see what she’s got up her sleeve! Wait, hold on—”

A giant of a man appeared next to Prime out of a blur of speed—her team member—his green eyes cut like emeralds, his brown and silver streaked hair slicked back and shaved at the sides. Where Prime had the geometric flame patched on her suit, he had a green elk emblem.

Mori’s eyes widened, and she leaned into the screen. Wait, she’d seen that man before. He was in the holo-recording Prime showed her during her first day awake. He’d impaled an unFavored servant’s hand with a knife. Prime was on the same team as a person like that?

The large man tapped Prime’s hand, and a green enhancement shimmered across her body.

“It’s Stellar’s Triple Threat Weaver, Orion!” the announcer said to cheers across the arena. “How did he disengage from Chaos Theory’s Brawler? I completely missed it folks. Unbelievable! Try not to blink!”

Prime shot forward with increased speed, seeming to clear the distance in two strides. Tremble of Chaos Theory whirled, a one-handed hammer—it’s brassy metal humming with vibration—appearing in her grip.

For a moment it appeared that even with the speed boost, Prime was about to have her mask caved in. Then Orion shot three spiraling green rings with glyphs across the street, capturing Tremble within them like a cylindrical cage. The Chaos Theory Striker’s hammer swing slowed, her eyes slowly widening.

Mori’s jaw went slack. A speed Enhancement and a Slowing projectile? And she thought the practice Weaver bot’s debuff removal was overly good.

Launa whistled. “It’s honestly not fair how OP Orion is.”

“But his manifestations are so cool,” Jeren said.

Mori brought her lips to a line, not wanting to say anything about what she’d seen the man do.

Launa huffed. “But he’s not as cool as Prime.”

Prime planted her foot down, the pavement breaking beneath her in a web of cracks. As if reaching into herself, she pulled a tanto out of a cloud of frost appearing at her sternum.

Mori’s mouth opened, heart skipping a beat.

Prime flourished the blade and reversed the grip, rearing it back behind her, the air hissing and crackling with cold. Mori remembered those sounds, the feeling of them when she harnessed her frostfire projection back in the cave on Telark.

In a blink Prime was behind Tremble, tanto outstretched. A wake of serrated Ice jutted acutely from the street behind her and took Tremble’s head off.

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