Chapter Text
Rover’s cabin had undergone a remarkable metamorphosis over the past month. At Aemeath’s insistence she had purchased enough toys to make Santa jealous, including a shiny new gaming system that she had instantly become addicted to. She had recently acquired some books and children’s school supplies from a friend at Startorch. The cost was hardly any inconvenience, of course. Being the leader of the Black Shores had its perks. The cupboards had also been stocked full of ingredients for all of Aemeath’s favorite Royan dishes. After a few false starts, not to mention a small grease fire, Rover had figured out how to cook a couple of them well enough to be edible. Above all else, however, there was a shift in her mood. It was nice to choose her responsibilities for once, ones that had nothing to do with the Lament. Despite the daunting responsibility of raising a child alone, the change was a welcome one.
When Rover moved to Lahai-Roi over a year ago, she had brought only the bare necessities and her most cherished possessions with her. She had delegated her authority over the Black Shores to Shorekeeper, who as usual accepted the burden without a word of complaint. At first, it was liberating to walk away from the responsibilities that continued to weigh her down. She had devoted centuries of her life, nearly died dozens of times, and ruined many of her close relationships in service to the Mission—all at the behest of a people that had long since forsaken her. Her heart ached for the friends she could have saved if she had just tried a little harder, been a little smarter, given just a little more . . . And despite all she had sacrificed, it was never enough. She was never enough. So it felt good to finally ignore everything for a little while. As the months dragged on, however, the dull, empty rooms seemed to constrict around her like a vise. The lifeless walls whispered that she was a coward for abandoning her duties, that every moment wasted was a life lost. Perhaps it was foolish of her to think she would ever find peace here. She hadn’t earned it. Not yet. There was still much more to do. Reluctantly, she returned to work on her last-ditch effort to save the world—the one that was becoming increasingly clear she would have to use one day, if she could just find a way to pull it off.
She was working on that plan one afternoon when Aemeath walked in the door, skipping and humming a tune to herself. Rover had her nose shoved too far in a Fractsidus memo to notice. There has to be a way to wipe my memories without causing lasting damage, she thought as she underlined a passage. Luuk had swiped it right from under their noses at their headquarters in the New Federation only yesterday. Though they had only met a few times, he was proving to be a highly valuable ally. Surely somebody from the Fractsidus would know how. If they can’t do it, no one can.
Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Whatcha doing?” Aemeath asked.
Rover looked up, startled. “When did you get back?”
“A few minutes ago. You looked really focused, so I didn’t wanna bother you.” She lifted herself into the chair beside her. “Can I see?”
Rover patted her on the head. “It’s not very interesting, just work stuff. Nothing you need to worry about.” Aemeath, in her endless curiosity, peered over at her notes anyway. Rover glanced over at the clock. “Is it really two already? We were supposed to start on your lessons an hour ago! Where did you leave your textbook?”
“Who’s Luuk?”
She was taken aback. “I’m sorry?”
Clutched in Aemeath’s hands was the letter he had sent along with the stolen Fractsidus goods. It was penned in flawless, sweeping cursive with shimmering golden ink. “Luuk. He must be someone important to write such a fancy letter to you.”
Rover let out a little sigh. Aemeath was proving to be quite the handful sometimes. Oh, he’s the guy I asked to break into a terrorist base the other day. She shook her head. “He’s just an acquaintance,” she answered, hoping she wouldn’t ask any more questions. She took the letter from her hands. The last thing she wanted was Aemeath getting involved in this.
“What’s an acquaintance?”
“It’s like when two people are friendly but don’t know each other too well.”
Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “Is he handsome?”
Her breath caught in her mouth. That was not the sort of question she was expecting. “No, well, I mean yes, but . . .” She stammered. She could feel a tinge of warmth on her cheeks as Aemeath giggled at Rover’s discomfort. This kid . . . She took a breath to compose herself. “I barely know him. We just helped each other out a couple times, that’s all.”
Aemeath was ignoring her. “Oooooh! Rover and Luuk sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” she sang.
Rover pulled out the most no-nonsense look she could muster at the moment. “Go get your textbook,” she said in a tone that left no room for negotiation.
“See here?” Rover pointed at a diagram. “The long side of the triangle is called the hypotenuse. That corresponds to the variable “c” in the formula. If you take the square root of—”
Aemeath yawned.
“If you take the square root of both sides,” she said patiently, “you can substitute the values for “a” and “b” to calculate the length of the hypotenuse.”
Aemeath yawned louder.
“Look at this example. I have a right triangle with side lengths of 6, 8, and an unknown. This is how you—”
Aemeath set her head down on the table and closed her eyes.
“Could you please pay attention?” Rover snapped. Aemeath jerked awake in surprise.
“Huh?” She shrunk back at Rover’s unusually sharp tone. She looked almost terrified.
Rover cringed, immediately regretting raising her voice. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” she said sheepishly. She placed her hand on Aemeath’s. “I’m just worried about you. You missed over a month of school, and learning math is tough as is without having to play catch up.”
“But we’ve been doing this for like hours,” she complained.
“It’s been twenty minutes.”
She blinked. “Oh.” Aemeath crossed her arms and pouted indignantly. “Well, it feels like it’s been hours. Can’t we take a break?”
One of the child psychology books Rover had purchased from the Academy had mentioned positive reinforcement could help in these sorts of situations. She supposed she may as well give it a try. “I’ll give you a choice,” Rover said. “You can either take a five minute break now—”
“I wanna take a break!” Aemeath interjected.
“Hold on now, I haven’t finished yet. If you choose not to take a break and listen carefully to this lesson, I’ll let you play Katya Space Fantasy for the rest of the evening. How does that sound?”
“The rest of the evening? Alright!” She practically leaped out of her chair. “I’ll pay super good attention, promise!”
A smile spread across Rover’s face. “It’s a deal, then.”
The rest of the lesson flew by after that. As it turned out, Aemeath was quite intelligent when she was feeling motivated. She knocked out her homework in mere minutes, her pencil flying over the page so fast that Rover’s eyes could hardly follow it. When she was done, she wasted no time in running over to the couch and switching on that game she was always raving about. Aemeath’s fingers tapped away at the controls as the avatar on the screen shot down flying robots with a laser beam. Rover made a bowl of popcorn and sat down beside her. “Want some?” she asked.
Aemeath looked away from the screen just long enough to snatch a salty handful and shove it all in her mouth. “Thanks, Rover!” she said, her voice muffled by her noisy chewing. Her cheeks were stuffed full like a chipmunk’s.
“So what’s this game about anyway?” Rover asked.
“It’s about saving the world!” she replied enthusiastically. “You travel around with Katya and her friends beating up alien robots. She’s so cool and pretty, and she even has a mech too! Check this out!” Aemeath pressed a button, causing the player character to ram her spear through a wave of enemies and sending them crumpling to the ground. “Awesome, right?”
“Yeah. It looks like a lot of fun.”
“Do you wanna try? There’s a two-player mode.” She offered a controller to Rover expectantly. It had been a while since Rover had even played a video game, but she would take any excuse to spend time with the girl.
Just then, a blaring siren screamed from outside. There was no escape from it—the siren seemed to surround them, emanating from everywhere at once. The sound was worse than dreadful; it inflicted the same primal terror as a knife held up to her eyeball. Aemeath whimpered and curled up into a ball, her game forgotten. They both already knew what the voice on the intercom would say before it spoke.
Voidstorm warning. There is a severe threat to human life. Immediately seek refuge in the safest location possible. Call friends and family who are within the area to ensure they are aware of the situation. Voidstorm warning. There is a severe—
The mechanical voice repeated itself over and over, crashing louder and louder against their ears each time. Rover’s instincts moved quickly as she threw open the closet door, grabbing her sword in one hand and a supply bag in the other. She then ran over to Aemeath, who was trying to hide under a blanket. She pulled it away, revealing a pair of terrified golden eyes looking up at her. “Listen to me very carefully,” Rover said. “I need to go look for survivors. You need to stay put right here no matter what and keep the doors locked.”
“Wh- wh- what do you mean? You’re leaving?”
Rover placed her hands on her shoulders. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. This cabin is built to withstand far more than just the snow. You’re safe here.”
“But what about you? You . . . What if you. . .” Her voice trembled.
“I’ll be okay, I promise. I’m strong. Stronger than any Voidstorm. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“I . . .” She was on the verge of tears now. “I don’t understand. Please don’t leave me here alone.” Aemeath clung tight to Rover’s waist.
She desperately wished she could. But getting caught outside in a Voidstorm was usually a death sentence. If she was going to save anyone, she needed to act now. She pried Aemeath off of her and placed her down gently on the sofa. She brushed her finger against her nose one more time.
“I love you, Aemeath.”
Rover grabbed her things and dashed out of the house. The door locked behind her with a click.
Rover cranked the throttle hard, revving the engine to its limit. The bike lurched under her as she skidded through an icy hairpin turn, her wheels coming dangerously close to the ledge. The acrid scent of ozone and gasoline fumes filled her nose. The sky had turned a nauseating shade of purple, and unnatural lightning crackled all around her. She was close to its source now. Defiant screams rang out from somewhere far down the cliff. The burning remnants of what looked like a research station were the only source of light illuminating the terrible scene. Dozens of rampaging Exoswarm had smashed through the building, nearly ripping it off its foundation. Purple Voidmatter was plastered everywhere, ravenously consuming anything it touched. The few survivors had formed a tight circle, led by a pair of men with Resonance abilities who lashed out at anything that came close. They were brave, but they would not last long. Rover pulled her sword from its sheath and dove off the cliff into the chaos below.
. . .
. . .
. . .
How long has it been?
Aemeath peeked out from under the bed covers. Just like the last time she had checked, no one was there. Her only company had been the sound of thunder and wind. It slammed into the windows and rocked the cabin, trying desperately to get inside. She hid her face back under the covers.
. . .
. . .
. . .
Where was Rover?
A scenario she dared not imagine tried to force its way into her thoughts. Aemeath pushed it away. She said she was strong. She said she would come back. A bolt of lightning illuminated the room through the window, casting twisted shadows across the ground for a brief moment before darkness returned. She slid out of bed and closed the shutters, blocking the eerie light from outside. It did nothing to silence the din of the storm.
. . .
. . .
. . .
Panic began to set in.
This was feeling all too familiar. Her parents had left to visit a friend. They had told her they would only be gone a couple hours. They had lied. Her scars had only just begun to heal, and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing Rover as well. Her hands instinctively reached to her neck for a talisman that wasn’t there. Could Rover have lied too?
. . .
. . .
. . .
Sitting still had become unbearable.
The worst part about her parents’ deaths was the lack of closure. She understood they were gone, but even now it all felt like a dream. In the blink of an eye, the two people she loved most in the world had vanished out of her life. Neither of their bodies were ever found, and soon after that her memories with them dissipated like smoke. It was as if they had never existed in the first place. A spark of courage blossomed within her. Aemeath had to see Rover again. She refused to sit here and wait for good news that might never come. She didn’t care if it was dangerous. Aemeath rushed down the stairs so fast she nearly fell. Shaky hands unbolted the heavy latch keeping the door shut. She stepped out of the cabin and followed the tire tracks into the storm.