Each Endless Universe: Original Sin
excerpt-- first two chapters
Chapter 1: Finding Miera
Reyn stepped off of the air shuttle heaving a weighty sigh. Like most Bryfolk, he didn’t like being so far off of the ground. It was still refreshing to step out of the bubble of exam week, regardless. Despite knowing it meant he left a trail, he had used his student ID to get a discount. He hoped it wouldn’t take more than a couple days to find the witch his father had called ‘Miera.’ He hoped the name was both uncommon and correct. Pressing his father to be certain would have just roused too much suspicion so he had left it at that.
Morgaze was no great surprise to Reyn; this hadn’t been the first time Reyn had come here for a geological conference or a trip to the museum. In fact, that had ultimately been his excuse for coming here. There was a geologist in town who he could turn to as a last resort. He hoped to involve as few people as possible but if this elusive Miera proved to be a dead end, it would be remiss of him to ignore the opportunity.
He wove his way through the tourist areas, knowing that it wasn’t a good idea to veer off the main roads unless absolutely necessary. His first stop was a café, a little out of the way from the busy part of the city. If anyone knew of a former or current resident, it wouldn’t be likely to find them where businessmen, tourists and newcomers tended to congregate.
The little café, Grand Magic Bistro, had a quaint outdoor dining area and a little sandwich board with the handwritten message: Please choose a seat—you will be waited on shortly. Reyn shifted his bag to sit in one of the white plastic chairs at the matching round table. An umbrella pole impaled the center of the table and a green and white umbrella above him swayed slightly in the gentle breeze. Even though the weather was getting cooler, the pre-noon sun was bright and warm. True to its claim, a young man no older than him (a Reishefolk with stunted golden brown wings) shuffled over in his well-fitting uniform with a menu in his hand and a confident smile on his face.
“Hi, I’m Warren! Can I get you anything to drink while you look over the menu?” the young man asked politely.
Reyn nodded and scanned over the section marked Beverages.
“It’s not very busy here today,” Reyn pointed out bluntly. He had seen that there were some people seated inside but very few.
Warren laughed and itched behind his ear nervously.
“Ah, well, most of the younger crowd is in school today and people won’t be using the outdoor area too much longer with winter coming through,” Warren explained, not offended in the slightest. Sometimes, even when people hated a job, they’d get defensive about such a blunt statement, taking it to mean that the place must seem like a dump. This guy was just matter-of-fact.
“You seem young yourself,” Reyn stated.
“I could say the same of you! Skyloft, right? I recognize the uniform pin on your bag,” he returned, still conversationally.
“What about you?” Reyn pressed, making a mental note to remove that pin after he left here.
“I dropped out last year. This restaurant is a family legacy and I’ve never wanted to do anything but keep it going,” Warren offered.
Reyn nodded, suddenly reminded of how Shiori admired people who knew what they wanted out of life.
“I’d like the red tea, if you don’t mind,” Reyn added, knowing enough for now. Warren might be too young to know of this woman, but he could start with asking him. If his older family members were working, then they might have a better idea. He didn’t intend to interrogate Warren or make them too uncomfortable by coming on too strong.
When Warren came back, Reyn ordered soup and a club sandwich, trying not to bounce his leg with nervous energy.
An old man that was shuffling in his direction seemed weary and wobbled a bit. Reyn shot to his feet and helped the old man over to take an empty chair at his table.
“Sit here for a moment, sir. I can take you inside once you catch your breath, if it’s too chilly for you,” Reyn offered politely. The old man beamed with a thankful albeit mostly toothless smile. He was human and clearly not affluent, if the ragged patched on his elbows were any indication.
“I like the fresh air, young man, so here is fine if you don’t mind my company,” the old man piped up from a hoarse dry throat.
“Can I order you a drink? My treat!” Reyn added.
The old man smiled and nodded.
“A lemon water, if you don’t mind,” the old man rasped.
Warren didn’t seem at all surprised when he returned with Reyn’s order and saw the old man with him.
“Could I add another soup and some lemon water?” Reyn asked apologetically and Warren had beamed with approval.
“My pleasure!” Warren added before hurrying back in.
Reyn sipped at his tea, but didn’t start eating yet. He had been raised not to eat until everyone was served. Whether the man ate or not, it would be rude not to have him served.
The old man seemed to recognize Reyn’s manners.
“Raised well, I see. Not every day you see the young ones so considerate,” the old man added.
Reyn stifled the urge to snort at that. His parents might have agreed with the old man, but Shiori would have outted him as insufferable and rude, moody at best.
Reyn offered his hand anyway.
“My name is Reyn. Are you from Morgaze yourself?” Reyn asked as the old man took his hand and shook it.
“I am. You can call me Harald, Reyn. What brings you here?” Harald asked, sharper than he looked, if he had already assumed Reyn was not from here. It was a confidence that only came from living somewhere for a long time, knowing a stranger from a resident.
“A strange story actually. My father and his brothers had come here a long time ago and bought a strange pendant from a witch that lived here. It may be a long shot, but I was hoping I might find her if she is still around,” Reyn decided to pose it to this old man first.
Harald seemed as if he had stopped listening, his eyes glassed over and narrowed as if he were mentally somewhere else. Just as easily, his eyes focused again and a smile spread on his face.
“I might know a thing or two about that. Obviously, there are no more witches, but the families didn’t just disappear once the magic did. A great deal abandoned hope of reviving the former glory of this city and picked up stakes, but there are still a few around that keep the old ways. Maybe your witch is still among them,” Harald offered, nodding to show he hoped that were the case.
Warren came back with Harald’s soup and lemon water before bowing shortly and leaving them to talk.
Reyn waited for Harald to start eating then took a bite of his sandwich, chewing it up and swallowing it before deciding what to say.
“All my father can remember is that her name was possibly Miera. I know it’s not much to go on,” Reyn added apologetically.
It had been enough. He had seen the shadow move over Harald’s crinkled face when he said the name.
“Miera… now there is a name I never thought to hear again. A woman with more arrogance than brains. She didn’t stick around Morgaze, but I wouldn’t advise looking for her. She’s rumored to have gone up north, consorting with one of those cults,” Harald added, sipping noisily at his soup.
Reyn nodded, a sober smile on his face. Maybe it was his youthful curiosity, but the warning had little weight with him. Still, he wasn’t as reckless as Shiori and decided to ask more.
“Do you know anything about the necklaces she sold?” Reyn asked.
Harald seemed hesitant to answer. Confusion seemed to cloud his memory, but eventually he did speak.
“They weren’t magic, but they aren’t… normal either. Even after magic passed, she could still manipulate whatever she used in a way no one else could. Only thing was, using the stuff made her really ill. She had been able to make a lot of money off of them, but couldn’t bear to touch it at all after a while and stopped, ended up giving the secret to an apprentice. No idea where they were getting it, but I steered clear of it. Whatever it is, it defies every law science can throw at it,” Harald went on.
Reyn agreed with Harald there. Nothing he had seen or done seemed to make much logical sense. It wasn’t any type of matter he could classify and didn’t respond in any way he could predict. Shiori had seemed to have some strange unconscious link to it and even she didn’t understand it. He needed to talk to her, but right now he just wanted to sort through this. Harald had mentioned an apprentice but that was something he could come back to later if his search proved futile.
He had suspected it might be a little dangerous. He wanted to find out more about Miera before deciding how he might approach her. Reyn wanted nothing to do with the cults. He already knew that if some of them even suspected he even knew any Diviners, his life would be in great danger. As such, he decided he would stick to his original story: the pendant had broken and, belonging to his deceased uncle, he hoped that she might know how to fix it. He had bought a chain since the original leather strap had dissolved, keeping the pieces with him nonetheless. If he did meet her, he would want proof of it.
“Is she from one of the Legacy Families?” Reyn asked now.
The Legacy Families, a newer term for the old magic houses, were the richest and most traceable among the citizens.
Harald nodded, eyeing Reyn more closely now.
“Aye, she is, but you won’t learn anything there. Her family’s plaque was long retired when she surrendered her holdings and she has cut ties. As I’ve said, you’re best not digging around where she is concerned,” Harald warned again.
Reyn nodded, trying for a smile as he resumed eating.
The plaque wouldn’t be destroyed. It would be archived and mostly because the Legacy Families, even if they resented Miera’s careless discarding of her own legacy, would still be too proud to destroy any part of their illustrious past. It was really a matter of gaining access to wherever these archives might be.
It would be a lot of work for so little guarantee that it would offer any enlightenment. Reyn decided maybe that he should attack this from a different angle.
The term ‘families’ was an umbrella term uniting very separate bloodlines but marking them all as a sort of nobility. In fact, to preserve the legacy, it wasn’t unusual for families to combine. Often, the heir kept the household he was born into, but his siblings might be married into other houses. If there were no male heirs, a daughter would inherit and her husband was often a younger sibling of another house so she could retain control of her family’s house. If there were no heirs, the estate was given to the closest blood relatives to decide who would take over or there would be a council meeting to determine the eligibility of possible landlords. This was the direction Reyn intended to take.
“Who would have taken over her house when she left?” Reyn asked, but from the shadow that crossed Harald’s face, he wished he could take it back.
“Obviously, the council in Morgaze doesn’t have the power it used to. Miera insisted she had the right to decide who would take over her holdings. As I’ve said, you had best not look further into it,” Harald warned again, this time his tone was more scathing.
Reyn smiled brightly and shook his head, raising his hands in a gesture of innocence.
“Don’t misunderstand! I don’t intend to get involved with anything. As I’ve said myself, I only came here to see about its repair and perhaps give it some history, but certainly not at my own expense! The history of the Legacy Families is always fascinating but I have no wish to catch the eye of any cult,” Reyn assured him.
From the sound of it, Miera had turned over her ‘holdings’ to the cult she had gotten tangled up with. If that were the case, it could be used as some sort of base. He needed to find another way to look into where her manor was, one that didn’t rouse suspicion.
Harald still kept his eyes on Reyn.
“I guess maybe I could see if there are any books on this metal. Wouldn’t hurt to try. I’d much prefer to figure out how to fix it myself!” Reyn added, and that wasn’t at all a lie.
The more he heard, the less he wanted to get tangled up with Miera. If she could manipulate this metal, chances were big she was a Diviner and when Diviners joined cults, there tended to be a lot of screws loose. Except he had never heard of Diviners being integrated into the Legacy Families. It was completely unheard of, as far as he knew, but Shiori had been the only one he had seen that had any such ability.
Of course, there was so much about his research that he couldn’t share, not without risking Shiori’s involvement. If he was under cult radar at all, the last person he wanted to lead them to was her. If Miera was with a cult herself, did she already share what she could do with the metal or was that something she guarded fiercely? What Diviners could do with that metal had the potential for them to be used as weapons, as modern magicians, as healers. Shiori had brought him back from the brink of death. He wondered if Miera perhaps found that living in a den of lions actually distracted people from finding her.
Reyn had finished his lunch, scarcely remembering eating any of it at all. Harald seemed in better spirits. Reyn decided not to ask anymore and to resume with small talk. He would be looking for a library after he parted from Harald. If he ran into any more problems, he was sure Warren would be happy to help. Reyn had brought a map, so he had no intention of letting anyone know exactly where he was going next. He didn’t even dare mark the map. Yes, it would have been easier to GPS it, but since GPS was easily traced, he didn’t dare take that risk either.
Once Reyn had made his excuses and made sure Harald didn’t need to be helped anywhere else, he made his way, not to the huge impressive library at the center of the city, but to a smaller but no less well-kept one. By Reyn’s thinking, his best bet to find anything on the city history that they might be hiding would not be in the most obvious places nor some rundown little book storage that could easily be robbed.
There were three such libraries as the one he visited now so he would have to work quickly. He hadn’t even bothered to get a room just yet, but he would do that before he found a place to take his evening meal.
A woman behind the counter with pale blonde hair and icy blue eyes watched him looking around. Reyn realized that albinism often made him stand out, that the black speck on his cheek and blood red eyes were startling again his pale white hair and skin. It was either that or the fact that, even with his best efforts to blend, he just didn’t carry himself as a resident did. He had tucked away the school pin that had given him away before and smiled over at the lady with a polite nod and approached the desk now.
There was no one else in that immediate area but Reyn was careful to keep his voice soft.
“Uh, hi… I have a paper to write for school and it involves the history of Morgaze and the illustrious Legacy Families,” Reyn inquired, watching her face carefully.
The woman cocked her head and bit her lip before nodding. She walked around the counter and signalled for him to follow. He caught himself watching the sway of her hips and cursed his own hormones. He missed Shiori a little too much and refocused on looking ahead to the shelves along the way.
She pulled a couple of books from the shelf and turned, holding them to her chest.
“These don’t leave the library, but you are free to use them here. We close at 6, but I’ll sweep through and let you know if you’re still here when I lock up,” the woman’s soft voice told him before handing him the books.
Reyn smiled and looked down at her, swallowing the fact that he found it hard to look away from her lips. She looked away and returned to the desk without him. He wandered around a bit, finding a reading nook in the back of the library to hunker down in. He removed his backpack before sitting in the armchair and opening the book with the worn title in gold lettering “A Running Record of the Legacy Families.”
True to its name, it was a handwritten book where the older entries were faded, the ink a light brown while the newest were crisp and black. The handwriting looked the same throughout and Reyn was curious about that as well. He flipped through the pages to locate an author and the name Mewze was emblazoned under the credit ‘transcribed by.’ The latest entry had been added only a year ago, when House Windfall welcomed a baby boy named Harys, according to an inserted sheet of paper at the front. He wondered if finding this Mewze might shed any light and reminded himself to check on that later.
As it were, the only name that particularly mattered at the moment was Miera. He didn’t know what House she had hailed from so it was a matter of poring over these pages and trees full of names. The transcriber had been meticulous about organization. The index had a list of the House names, but within each House, wherever an inhabitant joined another house, through marriage or inheritance or whatever other means, the new House name was attached to the end of their name. That sometimes meant a new tree was started in the new House’s section, but often they were no more than a footnote added to a House that afforded them no legacy. Even if a child had no value as heir, sometimes marriage was just a way to strengthen an alliance or adhere to the snobbery of the bloodlines.
It was a thick book so he would definitely be taking a good long while at this rate. He sighed heavily and looked around the alcove for a moment. He could probably shorten the search just asking the woman here if she knew of any Houses that had changed owners lately. It wouldn’t bring Miera up directly and leave a trail but it was still risky. He had already been vague about writing a paper. Most history papers weren’t super focused on current events and having too good of a reason looked more suspicious.
Reyn thought maybe that the newer writing would probably be better to focus on, but if Miera was a Diviner, it was entirely possible that she had changed her name many times and made up her lineage as she went. He wondered if she even had that name now or if she had abandoned it for another. ‘Miera’ had been used when his father was a teenager. He hadn’t gotten around to asking Harald when he had actually seen her last. Reyn guessed now that if she did abandon the name, it had only been since she did give up her House. Even if she was using another name, there would still be people who could recognize her if she showed her face around here from time to time. Although Harald had indicated that wasn’t very likely.
Reyn pored over the names for another hour, with no luck. He was about to mark the page and cave to asking the woman about the Houses, when a name he recognized graced the page.
Veylic, Pierait’s father.
The only one listed above his father’s name was Sevalle. Sevalle’s wife was listed as Ilya from House Gauld, but Sevalle was the first of House Syphon, no hint as to his origins before that. Reyn frowned and leaned closer wondering if that info might have just worn away. Sevalle’s wife did not connect to Veylic as his mother.
Veylic’s legitimate wife was listed and Legacy, as Reyn already knew. His mother Cassia had documented her own records on the Heroes and their known lineage. Pierait’s parents had been Veylic and Harra. Because he was a bastard, he would not be listed as a legitimate heir. What had shocked Reyn was that Veylic did have a legitimate son before Pierait had killed Veylic. There was a son listed there named Aeros. The ink was not new, but Aeros’ line was left blank. He had never married or had legitimate heirs? Did Pierait know he had a half-brother? Reyn’s eyes wandered to the top of the very short page for such an illustrious house and saw the manor name listed: Marrow. Another thing to remember for future use.
Reyn realized he was letting himself get side-tracked, that he was no closer to seeing what became of Miera. However, he did realize that Miera would likely have a sparse history herself, oddly long but incredibly vague which would speed up his search to scanning for less populated pages.
This turned out to be the break he needed. He damn near yelled when he found Miera among the pages. House Enivid. Reyn clamped his hand to his mouth, trying not to laugh. ‘Divine’ backwards, really? Still, it was as he suspected, there were parents and grandparents and great-grandparents listed, but not only were the connections mostly matrilineal, they were not detailed. Most people would assume that she came from a family of loose women. The legitimate fathers would have been listed if they had been married into a house, but there was no such note even where a man was listed. Still, even if it told him little, he made note of the female names, knowing they might still be likely aliases. The only other thing of remote interest here was the manor name: Ehrgrund.
Reyn slammed the book shut with renewed vigor, coughing in the cloud of dust he created. He dug his phone out of his pocket and noticed it was nearly 6 already and hurried to gather his things.
He had been hurrying so much that he almost smacked into the woman who was coming to tell him. Even though they were so close, she didn’t back away nervously, just smiled up and him and tucked a small card into his breast pocket before gently prizing away the books in his hands.
“Please feel free to come back if you weren’t finished. Ah, I put my personal number on there, in case you need to… ask any questions outside of business hours?” she added shyly.
The woman blushed and hurried away to return the books while Reyn stood there stunned. His eyes widened with the sudden realization that she was hitting on him. It’s not that he didn’t know he was attractive, but it stunned him anyway. He didn’t have a lot of experience with women as a student, so it always shocked him how bold they were sometimes. He certainly didn’t have the sort of courage to do that.
Reyn pulled the little card out of his pocket and saw she had written her name, Amira, on the card with a little heart next to it. He tried not to smile as he tucked it away and hurried out.
The sun had already been going down when Reyn had left, so he had made his way over to a small motel (Soothing Siren) and had been glad to just take a meal in the common room before finding his room and nodding off.
Today, he would be checking out where this Ehrgrund Manor was. Despite the pride of the Legacy Families, they didn’t exactly have a tourist map of the area just lying around. They clearly valued privacy and they had the security of a fortress. Even the people that strolled around clearly lived there and they would probably eye-blast anyone who didn’t belong.
Knowing this, Reyn had remembered to neatly pack the appropriate outfit for the occasion. While the old mages had worn long robes, the newer style had become velvet short coats, opened in the front with a silk cord and tassel draping over the chest. The cord was often gold or silver; the robe was the color they had ranked as mages. Today’s short robes were inherited and of course, did not represent any such magical ability. Often, the modern ones were made from an existing coat. They would all sport the highest ranking robes if they could but eventually, the colors became associated with Houses rather than the ranks within. Reyn had opted for powder blue, a mid-level rank and common enough not to arouse suspicion. While there was no blatant racial discrimination in Morgaze and marriage was not always arranged within Houses, it still wouldn’t be usual for a Bryfolk man to be high ranking. That was usually reserved for the very human (and reportedly inbred) Families.
There was even talk of a branch of the Sindigal Family having roots in Morgaze. While Reyn couldn’t remember running across their name in the record books, he also hadn’t gone beyond where he found Miera. Perhaps he would return to the library later and ask Amira what she knew of that. They were high profile enough not to arouse suspicion.
Regardless, acquiring a map hadn’t proved too hard. There was a shuttle that drove through there and the manors themselves were labelled as landmarks on the route since the streets webbed off in confusing directions and street names didn’t do much to clarify that. It seemed an oversight in their claim for privacy, but it definitely saved him the trouble. Dressed in his robes, he decided it was still a nice day to walk and had made his way to where Ehrgrund was marked on the map. He had done well to memorize it anyways. It defeated the purpose to blend in if he was constantly fidgeting over a map like a tourist.
It had taken over an hour to reach the manor and Reyn was a bit discouraged once he got there. It looked grown over; not necessarily neglected but certainly not immaculately kept. There was no one in the guard station to ask for admittance or announce himself and the buzzer at the gate was broken. It didn’t look like anyone was inside but it was the middle of the day and people didn’t have to be in the front rooms of a huge manor. Many of them looked abandoned in that respect.
Reyn didn’t realize that in his frustration, he had started rolling around the combined lump of metal in his hand. It had gotten a little larger from the day he had tried to use it to pull more. He had suspected that here and there he might find shards rather than large specimens. It hadn’t amounted to much but every little bit helped.
For now, there was nothing to be done. He knew where the manor was and he could return later. For now, lunch was approaching. If he walked back to the café he ate at the day before, it would be the perfect time to eat. Maybe Harald and Warren would be back again today. Cities like these tended to attract people with routines. He wouldn’t ask about Miera again today. If anything, he was more interested in asking about Sindigal. It was a name currently in the news. Even if they weren’t of any help, he would like an excuse to see Amira again. He would be the first to admit he was socially inept. Text was fine for someone he knew, but he wasn’t very good at talking on phones with family let alone girls he just met. He would rather learn more about her in person.
It wasn’t like a date. Not at all. Amira was pretty, but chatting someone up at their workplace wasn’t exactly the way he would go about it. He really wanted to learn more about this town and its secrets, but she was admittedly a bonus. He had been a bit numb to Shiori seeing someone else (curious, but not put-off), but after the intimacy he shared with her, he did tend to notice women a lot more. He didn’t intend to jump Amira, but he hadn’t been oblivious to her charms either.
Oh hell, he wasn’t quite glad for the train of thought. He turned his attention to the scenery and blotted out the press of thoughts. It was a bit of a walk back and he would much rather enjoy it.
Reyn attempted to do just that when he heard a laugh to his side and was annoyed. Without even looking, he had the feeling it was directed at him.
Warren stood there, dressed in casual but well-made clothes, leaning against the building to Reyn’s immediate right.
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone make that many faces just thinking to themselves,” Warren piped up with self-amusement.
Reyn shrugged and stopped, Warren looking him over as he approached.
“Did your research before coming here,” Warren observed.
“Do you have a problem with starting sentences with pronouns?” Reyn asked, a question dripping with rhetoric. Warren laughed but kept his keen golden eyes on Reyn. “I was just heading to the Grand Magic Bistro for lunch again today.”
Warren nodded as if that didn’t surprise him.
“Miss me?” Warren teased, purposely omitting another pronoun.
Reyn shot Warren a dry look.
“You’re kind of an asshole when you’re not angling for tips,” Reyn interjected, causing Warren to laugh again.
“I know, I know. Part of the reason my pops got me the job in the first place. Who knew I’d be so good at it?” Warren agreed. “Let me make it up to you. You paid for Harald, so how about I treat you today?”
Reyn frowned, wondering what the catch was.
“Why would you do that?” Reyn asked.
Warren shrugged.
“I’m a nice guy sometimes? You caught me in a good mood, so take advantage,” Warren pressed, urging Reyn to walk with him.
Reyn couldn’t quite tell but Warren’s words seemed almost flirtatious.
“I’m not gay,” Reyn grumbled. This caused Warren to laugh too.
“Oh, I bet you’re a blast in that all-boys school in Skyloft. Relax, I’m not hitting on you. I’m one of those people that tends to sound like I’m always flirting. Not into guys either,” Warren assured Reyn, clapping him on the shoulder.
Reyn nodded but didn’t feel entirely sure about this. Not because he thought Warren was lying but because he got the impression he was being observed. He didn’t intend to let his guard up.
​
Chapter 2: Fix You
Zephyr was glad that he had managed to cool Cole’s white hot rage, even if had made his moods black. He could tell that Cole was blaming himself again but he wasn’t exactly in a sharing mood as to why. If he did share, it would probably be with his fist. In the face. Hard.
Cole had sat in the passenger seat, Kyra sitting in the seat behind him, wringing her hands in her lap. Zephyr tried not to sigh impatiently as he snuck a look at her in the rear-view. Another person with too many secrets for Zephyr’s liking. Despite his wanting to know about her, with Cole sitting there it suddenly became hard to ask. Maybe he could convince her if they were alone, but with a giant angry man traveling with them now, she was probably less willing to be forthright than ever.
Zephyr heard her heave the sigh he had held back, trying not to smile bitterly at what little relief that must have afforded her. It was a decisive sound, as if she had made up her mind about something she was wrestling with this whole time. Zephyr’s ears were tuned to her now, hoping she didn’t lose her courage before the thoughts formed words on her lips.
“It’s possible my mother could be alive where they are holding your friend,” Kyra finally said, although softly as if she didn’t want to incur Cole’s wrath by bringing up her own problems.
“What’s her name?” came Cole’s curt reply, surprising and even embarrassing Zephyr. He had never thought to even ask her something so simple, even knowing about her mother’s disappearance.
“Ah, her name…” Kyra fumbled awkwardly and Zephyr saw her struggle before her eyes became decisive.
“Kyra… her name is Kyra,” Kyra began and Zephyr frowned skeptically.
“Then what’s your name?” Cole asked, without missing a beat. He seemed like a big oaf, but only if you judged him by his looks. He had known just from the quaver in her voice that it was not a name they shared.
“Mewze. Well, that’s my modern name anyway. Ahara was the name at birth,” Mewze fumbled now.
“Which are we to call you?” Zephyr asked through clenched teeth.
“Mewze,” she said, surrendering herself to their reactions. “Lyric knows me as Kyra too, but I took my mother’s name because mine is… mine is too dangerous to use. If you’re mad at me for lying about my name, get in line. Lyric will be furious. I am… someone she needs for her investigation.”
Zephyr shot her an angry look now.
“A suspect? Gods, Ky—I mean, Mewze! If you put my sister in danger to protect your secrets…” Zephyr warned, letting the threat hang.
“I know… I promise that her not knowing yet is for her own good. I have… allies. Former colleagues that are moving into place, but we can’t be exposed until then. I’m only telling you because…”
Mewze took too long to finish the thought.
“Because she trusts you. And if her mother’s here, she wants our help,” Cole finished. “Relax, Mewze. I’m not leaving anyone with these assholes.”
Zephyr turned on Cole now.
“The hell you aren’t. We’re not storming into one of their damn lairs with the illusion that the three of us are going to kill hundreds of them and free all the prisoners!” Zephyr seethed.
Cole slipped a crooked smile.
“Where’s your backbone? Your grandma did it, so why can’t we? All she had was Krose against a cavern full of ogres,” Cole taunted.
“A fucking suicide mission,” Zephyr shot back. “They got lucky. They also weren’t exactly raiding a fortress full of armored gunmen. Cole, please tell me you’re not trying to get us killed. Or worse. Captured.”
Cole shook his head, his face showing no signs of madness.
“I’m not insane. I’m just saying, I don’t intend to turn my back. Even if it means we have to sic a resistance movement on them,” Cole assured Zephyr.
“Resistance movement…” Zephyr repeated, narrowing his eyes at Cole. “You’re not saying that theoretically.”
“No, I’m not. They’re clearly better about keeping hidden than these overly eager cults have been,” Cole explained.
“The Keepers,” Mewze spoke up and Cole nodded.
“The very same. Uncle Seije still has his foot in the pool,” Cole confirmed.
“I’ve always thought it was weird that everyone calls him that. Considering his only actual relatives are Krose and Darien,” Zephyr mused.
“And I don’t think even Darien, his only actual nephew, even calls him that,” Cole added.
Mewze listened to the exchange with interest.
“Seije and Krose… they are famous names. I was very sad to hear when Alys passed away,” Mewze interjected.
Zephyr nodded numbly.
“She was a wonderful woman. I forgot how much you know about our Heroes,” Zephyr said, hissing the last word out with a trace of mockery.
Mewze knew it wasn’t because he despised them. It was directed at her.
“I’m sorry, Zephyr. I told you there was more to me than I could tell you at first,” Mewze apologized.
Zephyr wouldn’t look her in the eye, just nodded. He wasn’t forgiving her. He didn’t want to talk about it and she had no choice but to drop it for now. It wouldn’t have been easier if she had waited. She didn’t even tell him now because she wanted their help. If she disappeared, she didn’t want them looking for her. She was a Shadow once and she could handle herself. If she couldn’t, then Death had already been kind to avoid her as long as it had. She might have said ‘the god of death’ once. This was her way of saying goodbye if Death, in whatever form it took, was ready to claim her.
“We’ll try to find your mother, if she’s there. I can’t make promises,” Zephyr warned.
“That isn’t why I told you,” Mewze murmured, wondering why he was being so dense when he was usually eerily accurate.
“I know,” Zephyr said tightly. Her heart missed a beat. A bitter smile pulled at her mouth. She wasn’t sure if that meant he was okay with her putting herself in danger or that he knew better than to think he could stop her. Or was he simply telling her he planned to help whether she liked it or not? Just once, she wanted someone to worry over her. She didn’t know what that was like and probably never would. No one had loved her enough to rue over the danger she lived with.
Cole reached over and punched Zephyr’s shoulder.
“You’re worse than me. Why can’t you just tell her you give a shit?” Cole scolded as Zephyr shot him a dark look.
While Zephyr was glad that Cole had come out of his dark mood, he wasn’t in the mood to have his flaws put under a spotlight either.
“I liked you better when you weren’t talking,” Zephyr grumbled, making Cole laugh, a short humorless sound.
“I can’t let my emotions affect me now. Rhysa needs me. I can’t afford to fail,” Cole added, desperately.
Mewze heard the devotion in Cole’s voice and felt that pang of envy. She wondered what a woman was to inspire that kind of response. She lived several lifetimes and never figured that out. Maybe shortening lifetimes was why she could never know.
The solemnity of those words locked everyone into introspection. Cole wanted nothing more than to see her face again, Mewze’s thoughts skipped over her love for her mother and her lack of a decent romance, Zephyr just wondered how the hell they were gonna swing this one.
The underground lair wasn’t even in a place out of the way from civilization. It was located somewhere in Nocturna. It wasn’t exactly where the city was bustling and bright and there were probably even people that lived there that never knew about its dubious past. Nestled in the darkest, dirtiest parts of the city, where the mountains had once threatened to swallow the city (an event that had made Zephyr’s mother famous when she saved everyone), there was still an entrance into the remains of what was once a lab where Folk were experimented on.
Laboratory Nine wasn’t one of the main labs, by any means. There were labs one through eight and even Laboratory One wasn’t the infamous first. The first successful Folk genes had always been referred to as Eve genes. The lab where those had originated had been called the Gardens and it had been completely destroyed in the great war that freed the Folk. Some of the labs that still stood had either been so removed from civilization to be forgotten or else so embedded that none would risk destroying the city to close it. The one in Nocturna was one such lab, since the warrens extended under the city proper and much of it had simply been integrated into sewer systems. The cult that had taken up residence there had maintained the systems to keep the city from sending unsuspecting workers down to discover them. It was certain death for anyone to be caught down there.
While the infamous Gardens were never labelled as labs even in any existing blueprints, this one was no exception. It was easy enough for Cole to locate blueprints on the ‘sewer.’ It didn’t escape his notice that some passages were marked as collapsed or inaccessible on newer maps. Those were the exact ones he intended to check. On old maps those were often lower access stairways. They wouldn’t be able to discern which areas were still being utilized, but it wouldn’t be hard to figure out. Places that weren’t used were usually overtaken by mold or fungus or stale air. It would be foolish to hold prisoners so close to street level so it made sense that they would need to aim lower. It was also far more likely that the longer hallways where it was harder to sneak in unseen would be the first place they’d set up sentries.
It was to their advantage that most cults shied away from electronic surveillance. Just as it had certain advantages, they could also be located on sweeps and be hacked. He doubted there were many people, if any, both of high intelligence and so easily subscribing to the madness of these cults. Cole didn’t count it out—his mother’s parents had once fought a man with an equal amount of brains and screws loose, so precautions were necessary. Especially since some people were plenty motivated by greed to do much worse.
Cole hadn’t been the only one thinking ahead. While he had been looking at maps, Zephyr had already taken to shopping for electronic aids (sweepers, night vision goggles, etc.) while Mewze had decided they needed darker clothing and weapons. They had opted for a motel closer to the seedier part of the city where they were headed. The darker parts of any city always had people more naturally suspicious, but they didn’t want to attract attention from the more ‘upright’ citizens either. Cole had silently pointed out to Mewze that there was a sewer entrance behind the motel they had ended up choosing and she had nodded to show she understood.
They had gotten two rooms, but only used the one to meet up in. They didn’t make a meeting time—things would start moving once they all met up, simple as that. If they didn’t prepare as well as they hoped, they could always make a run. Being too organized or single-minded might tip someone off far more than being sloppy.
Cole was forlorn again when Mewze had been the first to return. She seemed relieved that Zephyr wasn’t there, but Cole reserved judgment and just nodded when she came in and set the bag down on the bed. Mewze inspected the bed with a frown on her face.
“Would you even fit on a bed like this?” Mewze asked. He smiled at the bluntness of her curiosity.
“Not really, but I’ve slept on worse. What did you get?” Cole returned.
Mewze upended the bag and held up her loot: three stretchy black body suits (since they were vastly different sizes, it was easy to see whose was whose), three projectile stunners and a bunch of wicked looking daggers.
“There’s no way we can go in guns blazing, so I had stealth in mind. Do you have a game plan?” Mewze countered.
Cole nodded, but didn’t speak right away as he marked on the map.
“You’ll need to memorize the routes. I’d be happy to lead myself, but unfortunately nature didn’t build me for stealth. Your résumé looks much better for that job,” Cole reasoned and she couldn’t disagree.
“Did you see Zephyr while you were out?” Cole asked when she didn’t speak up.
Mewze’s eyes clouded over with the effort to contain her expression and she shook her head. She didn’t intend to tell him she had actually been careful to avoid Zephyr. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear anything more even if he were in the mood to talk. Despite whatever insanity encouraged her to let him screw her in an alley, there was nothing else between them. She had done as Lyric asked and got him out of Wheryf safely and had gone the extra mile to race back to Merschenez to find out what happened to his friend, but it had never been more clear that she had no claim on him. Even with her ability to read people, he was largely a mystery to her and in no hurry to change that.
Cole had been content to return to his mapping and Mewze decided to step out again. There was a balcony off of the second floor room and Mewze had gone out that way. It led out to the back alley where they would be entering the sewer and if Cole hadn’t planned that as well, then it was a lucky occurrence. She could easily jump down, but she wasn’t sure if the boys could handle it. She smiled to herself at that as she bent over the railing, losing herself to the details of what was to come.
She wasn’t sure how long she was out there before she felt hands gripping her hips. It wasn’t like her to get caught off guard and for a moment wondered if the cult had already pinned them, but it was Zephyr that caught her elbow when she swung around. He was quick, tugging her pants down and slipping himself inside of her before she could react.
“Public places seem to really do it for you. Zephyr, we’re outside!” Mewze was breathless but gripping him from behind, rocking with him.
“Guess you’ll have to stay quiet or someone might notice,” Zephyr said huskily, clearly excited at the thought.
Her head spun towards the glass door of the balcony, wondering if Cole were enjoying the show, but the curtain was drawn and the door had been pulled shut. Zephyr laughed, already suspecting her concern.
“I don’t like sharing,” Zephyr assured her as he gradually picked up speed, driving into her.
Mewze bent forward and spread her legs as much as she could in the half-removed pants, angling herself so he could drive deeper, stifling her moans with great difficulty. She was glad he couldn’t see her face since tears had escaped. She couldn’t stop him even if she wanted to. She had expected him to be rougher, crueller now, but despite the initial invasion, he took her with a gentleness that made her chest ache. Even if he didn’t or couldn’t love her, he didn’t hate her. It was a small relief before such a dangerous mission that he would even want her right now.
When they both found their pleasure, Zephyr had done the same as he did last time, righting her clothes then his own, this time wrapping his arms around her waist to embrace her from behind, his lips close to her throat.
Mewze’s eyes trembled close, her heart conflicted.
“Don’t do anything stupid. Whatever we find out, we work together. I still don’t trust you… Mewze… but my gut tells me you have your reasons. Whatever else happens, don’t throw away your life because you think you don’t matter to anyone,” Zephyr told her, fat new tears tracing over the others.
“Who do I matter to?” Mewze asked, hating the weakness of that question, how she was either trapping him or setting herself up for brutal honesty and still unable to stop herself.
Zephyr’s lips traced along her neck.
“Me. Lyric sees something in you too. And if you don’t do anything stupid, Cole and Rhysa are gonna be your biggest fans too,” Zephyr told her.
Mewze’s eyes squeezed tighter. There were three more people like her, but she couldn’t say their bonds extended so far as caring. Korus had been a sort of mentor after she had been forced to kill her own in combat. Fivre had been like a brother to her, a man who was oddly jovial when it wasn’t in a Shadow’s nature to be so bright. Even as a sort of brother, he wouldn’t exactly lose sleep over her dying, but then Shadows had been so groomed to embrace Death’s design that mourning wasn’t part of the deal. Baelle, the youngest of the four, might have been the ‘baby’ but also the most heartless. She wasn’t cold-blooded, but she was blind and couldn’t afford to not be cautious. She had once had farsight when the old gods’ magic flowed through them—even though she couldn’t physically see, she could use the farsight to view the world far more keenly that any eyes ever could. Of all of them, Baelle had been the one to suffer most from the loss of magic and had gone into hiding for the sake of learning to survive without it. Mewze’s own ability had been much like Korus’s lover’s, the power of persuasion, only in Mewze’s case, the effect had proved far more traumatic.
It had been more than her ego that had taken a blow when her lover had suddenly gone cold on her. She hadn’t realized her ability to charm men wasn’t wholly a conscious effort and for the first time realized she wasn’t as beautiful or charming as she thought.
It wouldn’t have been wrong to say that many Diviners weren’t exactly fond of the Heroes nor had the Heroes’ children realized how dangerous it had been to walk among them if they had let that be known. Many of them blamed the Heroes for that heavy blow, even if it did free them from the threat of becoming vessels. Many thought they could have simply imprisoned the old gods and not damaged the world as they knew it in the process. All who thought the Heroes had any other choice were wrong.
While Mewze was badly hurt by the change, she hadn’t been so unforgiving. She knew that it had cost the Heroes greatly too and she had never been the sort to absolve herself just to pass the blame to another. Mewze had manipulated many people for her own means and deserved no sympathy for her loss. She had accepted that men didn’t want her for more than a diversion.
She calmed the turbulence in her heart before turning to face Zephyr now. His enigmatic eyes held hers now, patient and serious.
“There are others… like me. Not many of us. When one of my kind defied our oath and we were sent to kill him, only the few that didn’t go, the few that fled, lived. We all had different reasons and there is no unquestionable loyalty but we have always passed each other in peace. The one the Shadows were once sent to kill… your great grandfather Korus… he was something of a mentor and the one to tell me to not only keep my mouth shut with Lyric, but to look after her needs. Korus is the one who told me she is seeking us out, but that revealing who we are too soon would be disastrous. I… still can’t say everything, but even Korus has not been able to find all of our answers. He is probably focused on the youngest Sister, since she will be the hardest to find,” Mewze added.
Zephyr’s face paled.
“S-sister?” Zephyr stuttered, his eyes wide.
Mewze laughed and shook her head.
“Sister Shadow. Not related. Incest might have been more acceptable in our early history, but I assure you, I would not have let you take so much liberty with me if I were your great grandmother or even a distant cousin,” Mewze assured him.
Zephyr let out a big breath of relief and shook his head.
“And that’s all you can tell me right now,” Zephyr guessed and she nodded, wishing she could say more. She hated lying to him, even though he would probably discard her once they had no use for each other.
“There… is plenty more that we know or suspect, but ah, what is it that your Darien always says. ‘Assumptions are far more dangerous than ignorance.’ Until we know for sure, the possibilities are not useful,” Mewze added apologetically.
Zephyr cringed at the mention of Darien.
“Just how much do you know about our families anyway?” he asked, trying to hold the cringe that crumbled into an amused grin.
“It’s… probably easier to find out what I don’t know,” Mewze admitted.
Zephyr stunned her again, by reaching out to cradle her cheek, stroking the soft skin lightly with his thumb.
“Why do you hide your hair and eyes?” Zephyr pried, his eyes holding hers seriously.
“Northerners don’t blend in the south,” Mewze dodged without denying it outright.
“You don’t blend in as well as you think you do. There’s too much pain and depth in such a beautiful young face for you to ever blend in,” Zephyr confessed, those mismatched eyes carefully tracing over her face.
Mewze blushed, disbelief at those words that she never heard in earnest. She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t beautiful, but his eyes did not hide the sincerity of those words. They weren’t flattery or motivated by his own selfish designs and, for reasons she couldn’t fathom, he meant them. Without knowing how much she yearned to hear those words, he said it as casually as one might mention the weather.
Shadows didn’t mourn. Right then, Mewze knew she had been a poor excuse for a Shadow. She couldn’t bear to lose Zephyr.
Mewze led them now, after Cole had prized away the unused sewer grate. It was clear that this wasn’t one of their many entry points and that was precisely why it was the best starting point. The alley didn’t attract traffic but the balconies didn’t exactly afford any guarantee of secrecy from the motel patrons. It would be a bit of a gauntlet, trying to move around there without being detected. It still occurred to her that they might have some sort of surveillance there, but hoped their dark clothes and quick movements were enough to not tip off the cult. Zephyr was constantly sweeping for electronic devices as they went so if they did have eyes here, they were physical ones.
As Cole had asked, Mewze had easily memorized Cole’s elaborate drawing, burning the maps once she swore she remembered. It was a matter of testing each route until one led down. From there, it was up to her to make the call. There were no maps of the lower levels, so however they moved from there was a matter of what they found once there.
Zephyr had told Cole in no uncertain terms that Mewze would not be a liability, but Cole had already noticed. Even when she walked regularly, her footsteps were quiet, her gait very feline in its hovering grace. Once they had started to mobilize, her face became closed, a mask worthy of a mission.
Time ceased to exist in the dank passages, what light that did exist poured in muted stripes through the grates glowing greenish against the moss clinging to the tightly packed stone. Mewze would bolt down corridors, leaving Cole and Zephyr in her dust, but when she would cautiously reach corners, she would stop to peek then wait for them to catch up each time. It wouldn’t do for them to lose sight of each other even for a moment.
One time, Mewze caught Zephyr frowning at the sweeping device.
“What is it?” Mewze asked, the whisper nearly lost in the steady sound of flowing water.
“There… is some sort of technology beneath us, but… it’s so old and unstable it doesn’t locate well,” Zephyr returned, in the same watery whisper.
“The very walls in this place were rumored to be mechanized. They allowed light, climate control, even food distribution to be carried out without any contact with the… subjects,” Mewze said, her lips tight with disgust. “Sure didn’t stop the bastards from raping them.”
They all knew the gruesome story so it was left at that as Mewze started ahead again.
They must have tried ten different corridors at least before Zephyr saw Mewze stiffen and draw her stunner. Cole and Zephyr did the same but she signalled for them to stand back. They had all suspected for a while that they were getting closer to their goal. The air here was less stale, the smell less cloying, the stones cleaner.
Mewze seemed to be counting in her head until she spun around the edge. After a light scuffling noise, she reappeared, breathing with forced steadiness. She bent her head in a sharp nod for them to follow. The guard was unconscious but not dead. Cole stopped to lift the body, snapping the man’s neck and backtracking to throw him into the flowing water.
Rhysa was lying on the ‘bedding,’ which she should have guessed would be the wood chips you would place in a rabbit cage. Despite Miera’s claim that she would be hospitable, she was very obviously insulting and Rhysa was quite aware of how precarious her position was.
The food was equally offensive, hard pellets of tasteless questionable content. If it wasn’t meant to be rabbit food, it still tasted like it. Rhysa had been far too hungry by that point to turn her nose at it. She was just glad they gave her a large cup of clean water rather than one of those inverted water bottles that small rodents in captivity drank out of.
Miera hadn’t given Rhysa much time at all to settle in and Rhysa had to set her face stoically when Miera returned, her cruel pale eyes laughing at the scene before her.
“I trust our accommodations are satisfactory,” Miera cooed cruelly.
Rhysa would not take the bait. She smiled demurely.
“Quite,” Rhysa returned, dreading what Miera was about to ask of her.
Miera nodded and sniffed, a clear signal for one of the guards to unfold a chair for her to sit in, still looking down at Rhysa sitting in her ridiculous pile of wood shavings.
“Where do you hail from?” Miera asked.
Rhysa wasn’t sure how much Miera already knew and it could very easily be a test. She knew already that Diviners were keen about reading people so she had no choice but to be honest. Still, wherever possible she planned to delay.
“Just outside of Neibelung. My grandparents live there still, but I work at Merschenez,” Rhysa told Miera. It was no mistake that she skipped right over Skyloft. If they weren’t onto exactly who her ‘friends’ were, she didn’t intend to send them right to her front door.
“Work?” Miera asked bemusedly. “Do tell.”
“I am lead engineer in the castle,” Rhysa stated, but Miera had already grown bored.
“How adorable. To be proud of that,” Miera cruelly chided as if that sickeningly sing-song voice she used glossed over anything she had to say. “We don’t care for your backstory. We want to know about your friends.”
Rhysa was desperate to know what they already knew. Had they seen her with Lyria (who was one of the few Diviners that didn’t have the obvious pale features)? She could only remember being around Cole lately otherwise. Had they been following her longer? It occurred to her suddenly that Taran could very well have led them to her. She didn’t think he would put her in danger over fleeing, but she had also seen how cruel he could be in court. It wouldn’t do any good to pry directly. Miera would not humor her.
“I don’t know what you mean or I would tell you. I work with a lot of people, but I don’t have many friends. I would tell you if I knew what you meant,” Rhysa said, her voice squeaky with actual nervousness. Even that made Miera’s eyes narrow impatiently.
“Don’t be daft. Your Diviner friends, of course,” Miera spat back.
If Taran had been the one to out her, to send them after her, she took comfort that even as close as she had gotten to him, she hadn’t really talked much about anyone at Skyloft. She was so busy being childishly charmed by him to talk much about herself. She had always wanted him to regale her so she could watch the practiced elegance of his mouth.
Even now, she was struggling. Lyria’s family specifically were the ones that came to mind. Her only living child had been Solis and his children were Zephyr, Lyric, Kerys, and Shiori. She wasn’t sure how Taran might have put together their lineage, the only actual copies of it in Skyloft and she had not yet introduced him to that part of her life. Still, if she didn’t make an educated guess, Miera would stop being civil. It wasn’t right of her to think Taran would do such a thing just because she left him (for being unfaithful), but her brain was tumbling and grabbing at nothing useful so she had to consider everything and quickly.
“The only person I could think of that might be a Diviner would be Zephyr. He works with me, but he travels a lot too,” Rhysa offered, silently apologizing for that. Rhysa gambled that they probably already knew a name or two and she would hardly be giving anyone up with names alone.
Miera leaned forward but her smile wasn’t satisfied and her hand had lashed out and smacked Rhysa. One of her long nails left a thin trail of blood across Rhysa’s cheek.
“You are far too cautious for that to be all that you are hiding,” Miera hissed, standing up and knocking over the chair. “You clearly need more time to speak honestly. Maybe some time in the dark is in order.”
Rhysa could not hide a pleading whimper as Miera left, the plunging darkness swallowing her moments later. Rhysa laid on the bedding and wept.
“Cole, I’m scared. Please find me,” she begged into the dark.
The lower level of the sewers immediately felt like stepping into another world. The place was illuminated by the weird circuit board webbing of neon lights built into the metal and plastic walls, a soft bluish glow. As Mewze walked the corridors, they looked endless, no sign of a door in sight until they reached a strange metal arch on the wall. Mewze’s eyes wandered around it and depressed small circles of light on the right side of the door frame, the satisfying whoosh of doors sliding away to reveal a room within.
She had dropped into stance, prepared to fight whoever was within, but the room was empty. It was filled with monitors, labelled only with numbers and letters, the mainframe computer covered with smaller versions of what showed on the others.
Zephyr sidled up to the mainframe and got to typing. Within minutes, his flurry of fingers had been followed with a relieved look.
“I found a map of this place. Most of the other rooms have captives, mostly men, but there is a woman in one—” Zephyr started, but both Mewze and Cole crowded him impatiently. “Not Rhysa, Cole, sorry. It’s labelled First. Check Monitor 4C, Mewze.”
“It’s… it’s my mother,” Mewze said, her voice sighing heavily with relief, short lived though. Her mother clearly looked ill-cared for. Even so, sickly or not, the woman was beautiful. She almost looked like she had been molded directly from the snow, her skin even having that strange glittering quality that skin usually did not.
“And Rhysa?” Cole asked tightly, his eyes searching through the cell feeds frantically.
“There is a room here—” Zephyr pointed to the screen that was blacked out, labelled Prisoner. “I’m still looking for a way to turn on the room lights from here…”
Zephyr started typing again, but Cole cleared his throat.
“Mewze is gone,” Cole said softly.
Zephyr didn’t slow his typing, but his brows creased.
“Let her go. We can’t waste any time. There are about two dozen other people imprisoned here, according to the records, but there are five men to every damn prisoner by comparison. We’ve been damn lucky not to run into a shitload of trouble so far, so we’re going to have to contact the resistance to clean this place out, Cole.”
​
