Star and Scorn

  NOVA

  “You don’t understand,” Kyla Vevera explained in distraught, “you don’t have a stubborn, persistent boyfriend to think about."

  “You’re right, I don’t.” I have a husband instead, I thought resignedly, looking down at the black ring that fit perfectly on my finger, made for me and only me.

  Made for me.

  "Someone so sweet yet so indifferent to everyone else. He’s not a bad person; he just doesn’t relate easily. He won’t give anyone else a chance and will die for the people he cares about, regardless of the consequences. I wish he would focus on himself, just a little.”

  Made for me, just like he is. “But Kyla, dear let’s try and keep this session focused on ourselves today, please. I want you to go home today and take some time for you. Don’t think about your impulsive boyfriend or your aunt or anyone else; think about what it is you want from life.”

  Mine, my love, my husband.

  I began putting away my notes for the therapy session and watched Kyla sling her backpack over her shoulder and stride to the exit of my office.

  I pulled on a white hoodie, looking out of the window into the rainy streets of Sector Five. Peaceful. So beautifully, unbelievably peaceful. To think that just over a few years ago Upper Equatia had one of the most corrupt administrations in the world. Even worse than my old home in Lower Equatia.

  Moving from Auristhea had been a big step for me, but it was worth it. I met my husband. I assisted with the end of the Celestial War. And I helped remedy the beliefs that caused the Celestial War.

  This clean slate had really been nothing but good to me.

  There was no risk of dealing with the systematic extremism that Lower Equatia had anymore. Thanks to the leader here, I have no need to worry about the Assimilation Decree. Our nation had rejected that flawed ideology.

  Trying to integrate a single language and culture into the entire world was just pretty talk for wanting to wipe away the history and relevance of the people they didn’t like. None of them cared about dealing with prominent sources of prejudice, racism, and nationalistic extremism.

  Our Administrator, like most of us, had never fed into that reasoning. And I respected him for that.

  For Acedani Tempestra to be the first echo to lead a continent, he was doing an impressive job. Of course, the UN is displeased by this fact and claims Acedani’s nature is a threat to "equality."

  I've heard he attends the meetings, but the other leaders rarely acknowledge him, even though they all attained their positions by force. It's not like it would be easy to run a continental election with too much competition between world leaders. So, it was almost expected that the most resourceful parties would end up taking power via military or monetary strength.

  But what mattered now was today and tomorrow. When my vision centered back on Kyla, I found myself studying the girl, my client of nearly nine years. While adjusting my glasses, the girl came into focus scribbling her name onto the sign-out sheet. Her frame leaning over to look at the digital clock that hung above the front desk, tugging at the white choker on her neck. She was a well-behaved kid and did pretty well in school, but she was often profiled as a troublemaker because of her demeanor and style.

  She typically wore hoodies and sweatpants with a pair of worn sneakers; she rarely tied up her black hair or did makeup. Her issues went as far as her being extremely emotional due to hormonal imbalance and her tendency to get mixed up in the wrong place and with the wrong people. Her parents were collateral damage in the Celestial War, so Kyla lived with her aunt who wasn’t the best parent. Due to her home life, Kyla was almost always looking over her shoulder and had a natural look of wariness in her forest-colored eyes.

  I start gathering my things into my work bag before tossing it casually over my side and heading to where Kyla stood.

  She had just finished signing out for the day when she turned to leave finally, she hesitated for a moment, her fingers resting on the door. The sleeves of her oversized red hoodie covering her hands; it made her look younger than she really was.

  Or it was because she had to grow up quicker than most. Losing your parents and learning to live without them isn’t a hardship a fifteen-year-old should experience.

  At the last second she spins and flings herself at me, wrapping me in a tight embrace. I lift my hands in surprise, but only for a moment before I return the girl’s hug and ruffle her hair.

  “I love you, Miss Nova, you’re really weird though,” Kyla said into my torso, her face pressed into my belly, which got a light laugh from me. “Thank you for everything.”

  It came out as barely a whisper, but I felt her words in every part of my being. Her words were warm but filled me with a kind of wistful sadness. The kind that only comes with knowing that she doesn’t have an accurate depiction of what it’s like to be able to rely on someone consistently. I squeezed her tighter in an attempt to transfer all the love and affection I could spare for this girl, who had next to no one by her side.

  Finally, after nearly half an hour, she loosened her grip and I stepped away to look at her, only to find she had fallen asleep in my arms. I barely caught her, and her head lolled back.

  So much for taking the Bike home, I thought as I looked over at the black and white motorcycle parked out front. Even though it had stopped raining, I didn’t want to risk bringing Kyla on it.

  It was almost dark and I wasn’t going to make Kyla walk home this late while she’s tired and vulnerable. I laid her down on one of the waiting benches and scooped her bag off the floor while shuffling to the exit. The warm brush of Sector Five air was gentle on my skin my skin, pushing against the sudden uneasiness that settled over me. I strode to the electric Mustang that Sablune sometimes drives. He had left there for me in case it rained as a compromise to prevent him from confronting Acedani anytime I needed to get home in poor weather.

  A kindness that is mine alone.

  I placed Kyla’s bag in the passenger seat and returned to retrieve her, my thick heels clicking against the pavement. I stretched and looked around the parking lot, deciding it was empty, and took off my jacket. My feathered wings unfurled and grew to full size, poking through the holes in my pastel-pink tank top. My wings stretched with the rest of my body and extended to their full wingspan of nearly ten feet and folded back as I stepped through the entrance once more. I glance at Kyla and smile as I take out my phone to text my husband.

  Nova [Sweetie, Im going to be a little late tn, can you move our reservation back a bit?]

  I haul Kyla up into my arms and bring her to the car. I lock down the office, pull out of the lot, and make the silent drive to Kyla’s house that I had made so many times. After dropping off Kyla, the silence becomes unbearably loud, and my finger finds Sablune’s number on the dash interface. The call goes to voicemail immediately; his voice drawled from the car's speakers.

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  “I’m busy at the moment; if I don’t answer the second time, I don’t want to talk to you.”

  I jam the redial button before the voice message even finishes. I knew that message didn’t apply to me. Voicemail a second time; I hoped for the best and just assumed his phone was dead. I pulled into the driveway of our house, a small one-story building with fading baby-blue paint. The lights were off, which I took no note of because Sablune had a habit of forgetting to turn lights on when he came home since he could see fine either way.

  I stepped inside, rejuvenated when I turned on the tinted UV lights and white LEDs that lined the ceiling. I moved from room to room only to find them empty of my husband; once more, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and assumed he was waiting for me at the restaurant despite my text.

  Clothes piled on the ground piece by piece, and I stepped into the shower. I spent a few moments just indulging in the steamy air while near-boiling water cascaded over my body, sliding along every curve of my physique and down the drain.

  Taking with it a stream of blood from my eyes.

  It was a rare occurrence, but not unexpected. If I strained my eyes too much in the dark, they would eventually bleed. It doesn’t cause permanent damage, but my eyes throb and it becomes harder to see. There’s always a light of some sort in my bag just in case something like that happens.

  I gazed at the ceiling light until the bleeding stopped, finished washing, and stepped out of the shower. It took me almost twenty minutes to wring out my ankle length hair, though now it was brushing the ground because it was sopping wet. I picked up my dirty clothes and threw them in the laundry room, knowing Sablune would take care of it because I detest doing laundry.

  Quiet steps carry me to my room, and since I’m alone, I turn on the lights to full brightness. The bulbs burn a cool white color, tinging everything in my room a silvery snow color. Damp patches left on the carpet darkened the pristine blanket of fur, spotting it with grey footprints as I made my way over it.

  I rooted through my dresser, a set of wooden drawers painted with a cheap gold finish, and tugged on some underwear while putting together the rest of my outfit in my head. I stood and meandered over to my closet, running my hands across the various white fabrics until one dress caught my eye.

  It was Sablune’s favorite, a slim, breathable number with openings on either side that ran from my upper thighs to my mid-torso, held together by crossing laces. The dress had a part on the right side and was tight but not obnoxious, so it was just enough for it to cling to my form. It was also backless, like every dress I owned, to allow my wings to be comfortable even when they shrunk down. Wearing shirts or coats over them for extended periods of time, even in their compact form, has caused them to fall asleep on numerous occasions.

  It was decided that this dress was the most practical, but I added on a cardigan in the event it got chilly. Cotton stockings were smoothed into place and clipped firmly by a chalky tinted garter belt with pretty gold ribbons. Then after came the firm assurance of buckled heels over cushioned feet.

  After adorning myself with sun earrings and thin white eyeliner along my eyes, I considered putting on black lipstick. I ruled it out after deciding Sablune would lecture me for “inhibiting my abilities” because darker colors absorb light. He can be such a buzzkill sometimes.

  I settled for the white lipstick and strolled out the door, purse in hand, spirits the highest they’d been all day. Pop rock blasted the entire ride to the place Sablune had reserved for us.

  He had gone out yesterday to take care of something with a friend of his. Apparently Acedani had stopped him on his way home to bring it up to him.

  He’d given me a heads up, so it was no surprise to have not seen him at all today. He most likely was still busy this morning, or he decided to stay the night in Sector Twelve, a coastal province known for oyster farming where his friend lived.

  By the time I made it to the restaurant, my excitement was crushing me. The car rolled into the parking lot and my sight was locked on the restaurant’s windows. It was pleasing to see the restaurant was not particularly busy and scampering out of the vehicle was less a choice than a compulsion. Unable to contain my excitement, I had to be careful I didn’t rip the door off the hinges. Or let the smile I had rip open my face.

  There was a sign out front that read: “The most echo-friendly establishment in eastern Remkaria.”

  I love him.

  Sablune had scoped out a place to eat that didn’t treat echoes like less than humans, like so many other locations in the world. It was so touching I couldn’t help but grasp at my heart that was beating relentlessly in my chest.

  “Do you have a reservation, Ma’am?” He looked down at the list, barely glancing at my wings.

  “My husband does, I believe,” I informed him.

  “Under what names?”

  “Sablune M?rkluna and Nova Ortus.”

  “Thought you said he was your husband,” he raised an eyebrow.

  “We chose to keep our last names,” I tried for a diplomatic, yet urgent tone. Our names were a part of us. We change them to MAKE them a part of us. I would never undo that nor ask Sablune to do the same.

  “I see your names, but it shows up as canceled; he never called back to confirm.”

  My excitement violently bloomed into anxiety. It wasn’t like him to not show up without an explanation. While he may choose to be unpredictable and subtle with everyone else, he always lets me know what was going on and when plans changed. It meant there were few surprises from him, but I was okay with that.

  The host called after me as I ran from the restaurant, my wings flapping out in a brilliant sheet of white. The perfect feathers grapple with the wind and launch me into the air.

  A sharp BOOM rang out from behind me as I soar past the shattered sound barrier.

  By the time I realize I’m being irrational by just aimlessly flying in a direction, it doesn’t matter.

  Because there’s no way I’d miss the black rift tearing open the sky in front of me.

  My wings fold close to me, plunging me down through the opening in space.

  A transportation ability that only works during dawn or dusk. When the domains of Light and Darkness touch, our rings can pull us to each other.

  Through the gateway I can faintly see a room filled with people, Sablune lies across the ground next to one other person, who clutches her head, wearing a dress of leaves. I assumed this was the friend, Fadabiea, Sablune had talked about briefly. I’ve met her before, I’m sure, I just didn’t know her very well.

  “Should have stayed with my mom,” I heard vaguely from the rift.

  I summoned my spear in preparation for the coming fight, I felt my left hand gather with light, and I shoot through the opening of the rift. Taking no more than five seconds to determine who the enemy is, I blast the first faceless monster I see. This one had its foot planted into Sablune’s back and dropped to the ground with the stump of its neck smoking. I spun and slashed the throats of two creatures and pierced the heart of another. Three faceless children are burned to ash, and I rend the arms off another with my wings; then clap my hands together, sending out blades of light at various enemies.

  The faceless creatures stop and look at me, a few raise their hands in surrender.

  “Which of you put him in the box?” I glare at them.

  They unanimously point to a frail faceless freak standing in the corner.

  “All of you leave. Now.”

  They scurry out of the room like rats, tripping over each other and dragging out the children who refuse to leave. I propel myself forward to the faceless woman and pin her to the wall with my right wing, where blood begins to pour from the lovely new piercing.

  “Don’t ever,” my voice comes out calm and devolves to a whisper. “Touch. My. Darling.”

  With each word I tore her away from my wing. After hearing connective tissue and skin rip and snap, I gave her one last pull. And yank her arm from her body, coating the wall behind her in blood. I cauterized her wound with my right hand, turning the flesh crispy and black, then threw her to the exit.

  The faceless woman ran out the door, clutching the spot her arm should have been.

  I take a deep breath, smile, and turn to the echoes behind me. “Mom what now?”

  Sablune sighed in exasperation. And the boy with white hair threw up on the ground and passed out.