Chapter 20

The Right Call

The railroad stretched before them, winding through the rugged expanse of the wastelands. Maia leaned against the window, watching as the terrain slowly shifted. The Arcanum system hummed faintly in her vision, marking a growing number of plant profiles as they neared the Lindrao region. Each new entry flashed briefly, some familiar, others completely unknown.

She was still groggy, having slept through most of the previous day and night, her body wrung out from the Chimera battle. She could still feel the lingering ache from the exhaustion of drawing on her own life force, a mistake Matthias hadn’t let her forget.

“This rail track goes straight there, doesn’t it?” Maia asked.

“To Lindrao? Yeah,” Matthias replied.

Maia leaned against the window, her excitement bubbling. Lindrao. The thought of seeing it again, of walking through the undercity’s bustling streets. It was like Red Market but so much more. The excitement was enough to push the exhaustion of the last few days out of her mind.

The terrain shifted as rocky outcroppings began to close in around them. The gorge rose on either side of the railroad, its craggy walls painted with streaks of rust-red and ochre. The Dame’s tires crunched over loose gravel. This gorge was one of the many routes that led into the massive canyon that housed the Lindrao undercity.

Maia’s eyes flicked over the plant profiles her Arcanum system had logged as they passed through the region. It was all valuable research. Someone else had already done all the hard work for her years ago, cataloguing and evaluating all the plant life on her planet. All she had to do was read, and see which ones she might try to grow with her abilities.

She’d realised she could make any type of plant she wanted. Scavenging for food didn’t need to be a problem anymore. With a single touch, she could drain the life from one plant and grow perfectly formed vegetables in minutes. She could solve a lot of the world’s hunger problems with her abilities. Hells, maybe that was her Fatebond.

“Hey, Ba?” she asked, glancing over at him. “With my Fatebond… do you think I’ll just know when I’ve figured it out? Like, is that how it works?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied. “You’re kind of supposed to just know already.”

She didn’t reply then. He knew what his was already. Even if he hid that fact from her. That still grated on her. She took a steadying breath, pushing down the flicker of anger rising in her chest. She was coming to terms with that truth now.

“Right…” she muttered. The rumbling hum of the truck filled the silence between them. Her fingers drummed against her thigh as she debated what to say next.

“Um… so, your Fatebond,” she started cautiously, unsure how to phrase it. The flutter of anxiety in her stomach grew stronger. How did you even bring up something like this? Hey, Ba, I know your Fatebond is to protect me and the only reason you even care about me is because of some divine mandate and my whole life has been a big massive lie.

He glanced at her, his brow furrowing with concern. Why does he have to look at me like that? His face could be so infuriatingly soft at times, full of concern and affection. She loved him. She did. Even if he was an infuriating liar, he was still her dad. And deep down, she clung to the hope that it wasn’t just his Fatebond that made him care.

“So, back at Red Market…” she began, her voice faltering. “I, uh… kind of overheard—”

She froze, her head snapping toward the window. “Wait! Did you hear that?”

“What?” Matthias’s voice shifted instantly, all focus.

“Shouting,” she said, her eyes narrowing. She tapped her overlays, focusing her senses on the gorge above them. The Arcanum system highlighted faint energy signatures flickering in her vision, glowing outlines scattered across the terrain. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Over there,” she pointed to where a part of the gorge led up to a shelf further ahead.

Matthias slowed the Dame, his eyes darting toward the ridge. He rolled down his window, the truck’s engine humming softly as he strained to listen. An unmistakable rifle shot cracked through the air. His grip on the wheel tightened.

Maia’s overlays adjusted, highlighting a faint cluster of signatures in red on the shelf.

“People,” she confirmed, her voice quickening. “Sounds like fighting. Look! There!” She pointed ahead to where the narrow shelf jutted out from the gorge wall. Leaning up out of her seat, she could just about see a makeshift camp visible from their angle.

A group of travellers, no more than a dozen, were scrambling around the camp, their shouts frantic. They were surrounded by scuttlers

“We have to help them!” Maia determined.

Matthias’ jaw clenched, and put his foot on the brakes. The Dame groaned to a halt, dust rising in a cloud around them. He hesitated for a moment before twisting the wheel sharply, beginning to turn the truck around.

“What are you doing?” Maia’s voice cracked with disbelief.

“We’re leaving,” Matthias said, his voice low but firm. “Not our problem. They were stupid enough to camp out here, then they should be able to fend for themselves.”

Maia stared at him, her shock quickly giving way to anger.

“Are you kidding me? You’re just going to abandon them?”

“They’re not our problem!” he snapped back, his tone rising to match hers.

“They’re people!” Maia shouted, her voice breaking. “And they’re in trouble!”

“They could be bandits for all we know!” Matthias shot back. “Hiding out there to ambush travellers. You don’t know who they are.”

“I can’t believe you,” Maia spat, disgust clear in her voice. “We can’t just leave them there to die.”

Matthias sighed, exasperation leaking into his tone. “There’s another route around the gorge. It’ll add a day or two to our trip, but we’ll avoid this entirely—hey! Maia, what the hell are you doing?”

He reached for her, but Maia had already thrown open the passenger door. Before he could stop her, she climbed out of the moving truck, swinging herself onto the ladder attached to the Dame’s side.

“Get back inside!” Matthias bellowed, his voice barely audible over the wind.

Maia ignored him, her heart pounding as she climbed onto the truck’s roof. The skimmer was secured there, its scratched and weathered frame glinting under the sun. Without hesitation, she began unfastening the straps that held it down. Matthias had stopped the Dame by now, but she didn’t glance back.

[Playing: Losu track 53 - Those Who Fight]

“The hell are you doing?!” she heard him shouting,

“What you should be doing!” she shot back, kicking the last strap loose. The skimmer’s weight shifted, and she clambered into the driver’s seat, her movements quick and determined.

She kickstarted the engine and the skimmer roared to life, its engine growling like a feral beast. Maia pulled her hand on the accelerator, and the skimmer slid off the Dame’s roof, hitting the dirt with a bone-jarring thud. For a moment, the vehicle wobbled, but the skimmer had weathered bigger hits than that many times before. Maia tightened her grip and steadied the vehicles, the wind whipping her hair back as she tore down the gorge.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Maia!” Matthias’ voice echoed behind her, but she didn’t look back.

Her jaw clenched as she focused on the ridge ahead, the shouts of the travellers growing louder. She wasn’t going to let them die—not while she had the power to do something. Not while she had the will.

She would not abandon these people.

Maia’s skimmer roared up the narrow path, its engine growling in protest as she pushed it harder than she should. The rocky shelf where the fight raged grew larger in her vision, the figures of the travellers battling for their lives becoming clearer.

Two of them fired shots from battered rifles that pinged uselessly off the scuttlers' carapace shells. Others wielded crude spears and machetes, desperately trying to fend off the relentless attackers.

The scuttlers were grotesque, their insectoid bodies clambering over the rocks with unnerving speed. Their claws snapped, their mandibles chittered, and their segmented legs moved like clockwork horrors.

Maia didn’t think. She pulled on accelerating, pushing the skimmer up a narrow path toward the shelf. Cresting it, she drove straight for the nearest scuttlers, yanking the skimmer to the side at the last moment and leaping off. The skimmer slammed into the creature, flipping it onto its back. Its legs flailed wildly, but the impact wasn’t enough to kill it. Maia landed in a roll, springing to her feet as the downed creature screeched in fury.

She was over to it in an instant. Her hand slapped against its still-twitching limbs, and her scrav-powers flared to life. The red glow of its lifeforce coursed into her hands, making her fingertips tingle. It thrashed once more before going still, its body crumbling into the dust. Maia didn’t stop to think—she spun, directing the energy into her next move.

Her hands hit the ground, and a wave of Shell Bark erupted in a protective arc around an elderly woman and two children huddling near the cliff wall. The wood grew thick and strong.

“Stay behind it!” Maia shouted at them, not waiting to see if they heard her. Her focus shifted back to the battle.

The scuttlers were closing in, pincers snapping at the desperate defenders. Maia planted her feet, slamming her hands down again. Spiraling spires burst from the earth, creating a jagged barricade between the travellers and the advancing creatures. One scuttler slammed into the barrier, its mandibles clicking in frustration as it tried to climb over.

“Get back! Regroup by the wall!” Maia yelled to the travellers.

The man with the rifle hesitated. “Who—?”

“Move!” she snapped, her tone leaving no room for argument.

The travellers began to fall back, taking advantage of the momentary reprieve. Maia darted toward another scuttler that was circling to the side. Its spiny legs glinted in the sunlight as it lunged for her. She ducked, feeling its claw swipe through the air just above her head.

Her fingers brushed the ground, and another burst of Shell Bark shot up, catching the creature mid-strike. It screeched, thrashing against the bark that coiled around its legs, locking it in place. Maia wasted no time, rolling forward and yanked one of the newly grown spires out of the ground. She hurled it into the scuttler’s vulnerable underbelly, the tip piercing deep.

Another traveller screamed as a scuttler closed in, its claws snapping inches from his face. Maia turned, sprinting toward him. Her hands tingled with the buzzing current of her powers, but she could feel her energy reserves waning already. No time to worry about that now.

She drove her palm into the scuttler’s carapace, the lifeforce surging into her once again. It reared back, screeching in agony as the red glow left its body. With a final, shuddering motion, it collapsed.

“Get to the barricade!” Maia shouted, her voice hoarse now. The travellers were regrouping, and the tide of the battle was shifting.

But the scuttlers weren’t retreating yet. They hissed and snapped, their numbers still threatening. Maia planted her feet, ready to push herself further—she wasn’t going to let these people die.

From the edge of her vision, she saw movement. The last scuttler lunged for her from behind, mandibles wide open. She turned, her body acting on instinct phased out of the way, the cooldown flashing now in her overlays letting her know when she could use it again.

Maia was still learning to use her Phase Evade skill effectively, she’d only moved a few paces out of the way and the instant shift in her position had left her disorientated. The scuttler, had reacted quickly and was lunging at her again.

A rifle shot cracked through the air.

The scuttler shrieked, its momentum faltering as its carapace shattered in a splatter of green ichor. It thrashed wildly, its legs skittering before collapsing in a heap.

“Got the bastard!” shouted one of the riflemen, a wiry man with sweat dripping down his soot-streaked face. He gave Maia a quick, grim nod before swinging his rifle toward another scuttler.

Maia barely had time to catch her breath. The barricade of Shell Bark groaned under the weight of another scuttler trying to force its way through. The bark structure creaked, holding firm for now, but the creatures weren’t giving up.

She clenched her fists, gritting her teeth. Her energy reserves were nearly spent, but she couldn’t stop now. Planting her hands on the ground once more, she channeled everything she had left. A fresh ring of thorned spires erupted around the defenders, creating a second layer of protection. The scuttlers hissed and snapped, retreating slightly from the renewed defenses.

One of the travellers, a stocky woman wielding a spear, took the opening. “Push them back!” she bellowed, rallying the others.

The defenders surged forward as a group, their attacks coordinated now. There was only a half dozen of the scuttlers left now. Spears and machetes found weak spots in the scuttlers’ armor, while rifle shots picked off the creatures from a distance. Maia stumbled back, her knees nearly buckling, but she refused to fall.

The remaining scuttlers hesitated, their mandibles clicking, at the renewed vigor of the defenders. And then, as if by some unseen signal, they began to retreat. The creatures scurried back toward the cliffs, disappearing into the rocky shadows.

“Don’t let them get away!” a gruff voice yelled from the crowd. One of the riflemen raised his weapon, his face blazing with anger. “They’ll come back once we’re sleeping!”

“Stop!” Maia shouted, raising her hands. Her chest heaved as she stepped forward, her voice cutting through the shouting. “Look!”

She pointed down into the gorge, where a familiar orange truck roared into view. Dust billowed behind it as the Dame screeched to a halt. Her father leapt from the cab with the fluid grace of a man who’d done this far too many times. His glaive of light crackled into existence, blue light flaring as he charged forward.

The nearest scuttler was impaled mid-scramble, its legs curling inward as it collapsed. Matthias spun on his heel, hurling another spear of light into the retreating swarm. Each strike found its mark with deadly precision, the scuttlers falling one by one under the onslaught.

Maia let out a slow breath, her shoulders sagging as the tension began to ebb away. Her father would handle it. He always did. She watched him work, his movements efficient, almost mechanical. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing.

At least he followed.

She felt a pang of gratitude, though it was tangled with frustration. Even now, she knew he’d only come to protect her, not because he cared about the strangers she’d risked herself to save. But still, she was grateful. The remaining scuttlers wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

“Let him finish it,” Maia said to the travellers. “They won’t be coming back.”

The group hesitated, exchanging glances, but slowly began to lower their weapons. The stocky woman with the spear grunted, giving Maia a respectful nod. “Hell of a thing you did for us, scrav.”

Maia flinched at the word. Ba isn’t going to be happy about this.

The word had been spoken without malice, but hearing it aloud sent a jolt through her. They were never supposed to let anyone know. And now? Everyone here had seen her in action.

Maia swallowed hard, ignoring the knot forming in her throat. “Just… take care of your people,” she said, trying to deflect.

The woman gave her a long look but didn’t press. Instead, she turned to the others, checking injuries and patching up scrapes. The group moved with the efficiency of people used to surviving, but Maia could feel their eyes darting to her every so often.

She knelt beside her skimmer, pretending to fiddle with the controls, as her father climbed the slope toward them. His face was grim, his glaive of light fading from his hand as he approached.

“They were in trouble,” Maia hissed quietly, standing to face him. “They’d have died without my help.”

“That’s not the point,” Matthias matched her volume, his gaze flicking to the travellers. Some were watching them, though most were tending to their wounded or gathering their scattered supplies. “Now they know.”

“I couldn’t just let them die!” Maia’s voice rose, drawing a few more curious glances. She lowered it again, her tone sharp. “What was I supposed to do? Aren’t you always telling me that we were given these powers for a reason!”

Before her father could respond, the stocky woman stepped forward, planting her spear into the dirt with a solid thunk.

“Name’s Karra,” she said, her voice gruff but warm. “I lead this group.” She motioned to the dozen or so travellers behind her. “We’re just passing through, heading south to Sanjura. Following the tracks.”

“Smart route,” Matthias replied tersely, his eyes scanning the horizon for any remaining scuttlers.

“We owe you both, though,” Karra continued, looking directly at Maia. “You saved our hides there, no doubt about it. Let us repay you at least. We’re set up here for the night, join us. We’ve plenty of food and drink. Archons know we’d feel a lot safer knowing you guys were here.”

“That’s kind!” Maia’s face lit up. “Thank you—”

“No,” Matthias cut her off sharply. “We’re just passing through too. We don’t need anything.”

“Listen,” Karra raised her hands. “We just want to show our appreciation. We don’t care that you’re scravs.”

Maia stiffened, glancing nervously at Matthias. His expression darkened, his jaw tightening as though Karra’s words had been a personal attack.

“Ba, they’re just trying to be nice,” Maia her stomach churning with embarrassment and frustration. Why did he always have to be like this.

“Look,” Karra went on, a warm smile on her face. “We’re not enemies here. You just saved our asses. Take it or leave it, but the offer stands.”

Maia turned to her father, hoping for even the smallest sign of compromise. But Matthias’s expression was unreadable, his shoulders tense as if ready to walk away.

“Thank you,” Maia said firmly to Karra, stepping forward. “We’d love to share a meal with you.” She shot her father a pointed look. “Wouldn’t we?”

Matthias exhaled heavily, his lips pressing into a tight line. “Fine,” he muttered.