In the morning Zaira mustered up enough courage to go to Refuge. She took her box of mirror shards and shuffled downstairs. She walked onto her deck and took a deep breath of the crisp foggy air. Knocking on the window behind her drew her attention. Baby was standing on the window’s low bookcase, face, and hands pressed against the glass. Zaira smiled at Baby and gave her a little wave. Zaira took another deep breath and took off.

She landed in the village. Zaira had thought about leaving most of her glamours down, but she had quickly brushed aside that insane idea. Hence, she appeared the same as her previous trips. A few glances were thrown her way, but no one lingered. Satisfied with the inattention, she managed to stutter out her question to a passerby. He pointed her towards the glass maker. She dropped off her pieces without fanfare.

The quiet streets were starting to fill with people leaving their homes to start their day. Zaira unfurled her wings to take off but before she could, something caught her eye. An inhabitant had just illuminated the interior of their shop. She could see through the window all sorts of colorful toys and games. A little doll sat on the windowsill, blonde, blue-eyed, and wearing clothes styled like those on Selrino, a planet with quite varied inhabitants. There were so many immigrant species on Selrino, that Zaira didn’t know what the original fauna was. It was a lovely planet though; she’d done a few short trips there before.

Zaira stepped through the door. She was glad to be so early. The shop was so crowded with stuff that navigating around people would be so cumbersome. The owner smiled at her when she walked in. She returned the smile and he turned back to his work. He had a paintbrush in hand, but she couldn’t see what he was working on, the object was so small.

Zaira picked up the little doll from the windowsill. Baby would enjoy this. Baby already preferred the teddy over the wooden horse, and what little girl didn’t like a doll who looked like them? She also found a nice green ball. Though perhaps she was inviting trouble with this particular toy.

Zaira looked at the toys in her hands. She was buying toys for a ghost. Again. What was she thinking? Well, if the Rosses’ grandchildren ever came over, she would have a few toys for them. She also grabbed five picture books off a shelf which proudly proclaimed the books were authored and illustrated by an inhabitant of Refuge. She bought her haul and made her escape.

Baby greeted her at the door when she arrived home. But there was no smile. Baby looked like she was about to cry. She was holding up the wooden horse. A leg and its tail had broken off.

“Oh, it's ok.” Zaira kneeled down and took the toy from Baby. She wasn’t sure if Baby had broken the toy or if it was a result of her outburst the other day. Zaira had not gone to retrieve it since then. “I can fix this. It just needs a little glue. Here I got you something else.”

Zaira pulled out the doll. The toddler sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. She reached for the dolly and held it tight to her chest.

“Do you like her?”

Baby squeezed the doll even harder and turned around. She toddled away and disappeared. Zaira smiled as she watched the doll float away by itself. It thumped up the stairs as Baby crawled to the second level. Then the doll left her line of sight, and Zaira assumed Baby had gone to her bedroom.

Zaira slipped off her pack and placed it by the door. She took the ball out and tossed it in the same box as the alphabet blocks she had bought during a previous grocery trip to Nanowin. The Yulmuth stretched all six limbs. Did she have enough energy to clean? Maybe. She’d start small. She grabbed her toolbox and cleaning supplies and went upstairs. Though she didn’t start with those chores, she only left the materials near the hole in the wall. That was one task accomplished.

Next, she went to grab the horse’s amputated limbs from the spare room and reunited them with their owner. She took a nap on the couch as she waited for the glue to dry. When she woke, she placed the toy on the bookshelf. She didn’t think Baby would be playing with it anymore.

The nap had given her a much-needed boost. Zaira made her way upstairs and started cleaning her ceiling. She zoned out during the tedious task. Letting her mind empty. But perhaps she should have paid more attention. Her foot stepped on her toolbox, and she stumbled backward. She fell into the wall; she heard loud cracking as she fell through to the ground.

Zaira blinked. Her wings were a little sore from the fall but otherwise, she felt fine. She heard a small giggle. She lifted her head and spotted Baby at her feet.

“Really?”

Baby smiled and put her hand in her mouth. Zaira let out a short laugh and lowered her head back down. She took a moment more to recover then stood again. She looked at the damage and was relieved to see she had fallen through what was left of the plastered entrance to the attic.

The plaster wiggled a little. Baby was pushing on the wall with her free hand. Zaira reached out and broke off the piece Baby was playing with. The toddler giggled. Zaira broke off another piece with the same result. The wall was torn down little piece by little piece. It took much longer to tear down than it should have, but Zaira was rewarded with baby laughter every single break, hence it had also ended too soon.

Zaira sanded the edge of the walls flush with the frame of the entrance. She would need to paint it to cover up the remains, but that was a problem for another day. So was installing the staircase to the attic. And the ceiling she only half-cleaned? Also, a problem for another day. She was worn.

Zaira rubbed at her eyes. She should be able to at least finish cleaning the ceiling. Maybe before bed.

It was a cool night. Zaira threw open all the windows and lit her fireplace. She made a mug of tea and grabbed a blanket. She brought her rocking chair by the fire and sat in it. Her body melted into the seat. She tucked the blanket around her and held her mug in both hands. It was time to relax. Zaira smiled as she looked into the dancing flames.

An object flew by in her peripheral vision. Zaira leaned back in her seat to get a better view of the staircase. The teddy bear was lying on the floor at the bottom of the staircase. Then small thumps could be heard. The doll eventually came into view, being dragged down the stairs by a little invisible ghost.

Baby took the teddy’s paw once she reached it. She dragged her toys over to Zaira and lifted them up to her. Zaira took them and sat them next to her.

“There we go. They can watch the fireplace too.” She reached out for the unseen Baby to help her up too.

But Baby never grabbed her hand or knee. Zaira leaned back, disappointed Baby had not joined her.

A few moments passed. Zaira watched the flames lick the wood, and then her view of the fire was obscured. Baby appeared, sitting, staring into the flames, and sucking on her hand. Zaira watched Baby for a bit, to make sure she wasn’t about to set anything on fire. When it was clear that Baby wasn’t going to do anything, Zaira retreated into the cozy cocoon she had created.

----------------------------------------

Zaira took one last look at the sad scene. She’d been sent far from home this time. The disaster had been on such a scale that local search and rescue was incapable of handling it all. The earthquake was so powerful that it had been felt by people in cities one thousand miles away. Zaira didn’t recognize the country or language, she would have to ask Rushka or Shahar when she finally had the chance.

Both human and non-human governments had reacted the same way. Search and rescue had been called in. Mobile hospital crews had been called in. The military had been called in. It was all hands on deck for the first couple of weeks – hundreds of thousands of people lay under collapsed buildings.

A few of the non-human troops were sent to non-human communities. However, the non-humans were less affected, most living in lighter structures than the human communities. Hence, the majority of the non-humans, with the help of the local Preeminent, had been disguised and hidden within the human groups. Zaira had of course been sorted in with human search and rescue, specifically with those who were helping people escape from the rubble.

Now things were starting to settle. It had been confirmed by the angels that no living beings were left under the destruction, the non-humans had been given two more days to help find the deceased then they were to go home. The other groups would also start to back down as the need for them decreased.

Zaira took off.

Zaira headed towards the closest open airport. It was a two-day trip away. It would have been nice to have access to non-human skyships. They were slower than airplanes, faster than ships, and more comfortable than both. But the only skyships in the skies of this planet were the few who ventured from far away from their own solar systems and were equipped with military-grade stealth technology. They were rarely here on official business.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The flight was long and cramped. Zaira was still full of adrenaline and whatever else gets pumped into your system in times of stress to keep you awake, alert, and alive. It took most of her concentration not to kick or punch something for lack of movement and the rest of it went to cramming the memories of the past weeks into her mental box to sort through later.

Nanowin didn’t have an airport, so after she landed, she had a four-hour flight ahead of her. Her stiffened limbs protested on take off, but at least they allowed her to take flight. She was so looking forward to her bed - and seeing Baby again. Yet Zaira felt herself steering off course.

Zaira believed it was exhaustion from her deployment that had chipped at her resolve to keep old questions aside. The only people who could answer them were intimidating, yet now she couldn’t stop herself from heading to Ime’s. It was a closer target than home at least.

Zaira took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

“Zaira! What a surprise!”

“Ime.” Zaira bowed.

“Oh, none of that.” Ime tapped Zaira on the shoulder. “Come in. You here for wounds or social?” Ime’s happy demeanor hit a brick wall when she remembered the latest news. “Oh, right, you’ve just come back from Gorkha, haven’t you? Come, let me get you something to eat.”

Ime waved her in and turned to head into the kitchen.

Still standing outside the threshold, Zaira blurted; “Are my glamours that easy to spot?”

Ime turned back and frowned. “No. Why?”

“Abraxas saw right through them.”

“Oh, Abraxas is old and powerful. He can spot a spell a mile away. I mean he did enchant that library all by himself.”

“And Kial?”

“Abraxas and Kial are good friends. Abraxas probably told them telepathically.”

“And the witch at the apothecary?”

Ime let out a laugh. “You’ve been hiding here not a year and you’ve managed to find three of the four people who can tell you have glamours up. Don’t worry. Yours are powerful. They can’t see through it.”

“Four?

“You haven’t met Nodin yet.”

“Right.” Zaira scratched at her palms.

“Come. Come.”

Ime waved her in again.

“I... I can’t… I have a… meeting with my neighbor.” The panic induced by the glamours was replaced with an ‘Oh fuck, I have just knocked on the Preeminent’s door’ and a ‘gods I need a nap’ feeling.

“But I’m guessing it can wait, can’t it?”

“Um.”

“Come. I don’t bite. She does though.” Ime pointed over her shoulder to a purple-haired vampire who was sitting on the kitchenette's counter and leaned over a cup of steaming blood.

The vampire looked to Zaira with big brown eyes. “I’ll leave.” She slipped off the counter and glided to the back of the house before disappearing through a door, taking her mug with her.

“Well, I didn’t mean to chase her away.” Ime shrugged. She took Zaira by the elbow and brought her inside, leaving her no choice in the matter.

Ime led her to the small kitchenette table and sat her down. Zaira was too tired to resist and too wound up to say anything. Her muscles were tensed, and her vision was narrow.

“Here.” Ime set a large glass of water in front of her. “Drink all of it, you need it. And drink as much water as possible while you rest over the few days.”

Zaira blinked and looked up to see concerned blue eyes just before they turned away. She heard a kettle being turned on and the clatter of kitchenware as Ime prepared some food. Zaira reached for her glass. The first sip was hard to swallow, the second was easier and then she had emptied the glass.

“Here’s another.” Ime placed another glass on the table and took the empty one.

Zaira studied Ime as they cooked. Ashoka. She thought back to when she had first heard that name. She took a sip from her water. The scene was surreal. Zaira knew Ashoka had been one of the gods to order and enforce the execution of the Borim. They had likely even performed many of the executions themselves.

The Borim. A species gifted from Alathea, goddess of creation, to her sister, Death. Unfortunately, Alathea never could grasp what Death needed as a servant species. Directionless, the Borim were returned to the Overworld. Of the many paths they could have chosen, they chose to cultivate a culture of violence and lust. Individuals were praised for their savagery or killed for being too soft. They mostly targeted other species. And even if they chose otherwise, complete separation from other species was made impossible by the need to reproduce. The Borim could not reproduce on their own. They needed to find an induvial of another species to mate with, which they often took by force. The diversity of appearances and their propensity for glamour magic made them hard to detect among the unknowing populations.

Zaira had been born to a female Borim, who had raped a Yulmuth to conceive. Her mother had three other biological children and had adopted her husband’s two, as was custom. None of Zaira’s siblings were of the same mixed species. And of all their children, Zaira was the one they were most disappointed in. She had failed to inherit the Borim’s lust for blood. She’d been turned into the family punching bag, and she considered herself lucky to have escaped alive. She’d already been homeless when the order was given to eradicate the Borim. Nana, an old rickety homeless witch, had kept her hidden.

“Here, eat.”

Zaira was pulled from her thoughts. Fruits, vegetables, bread, pastries, meat. The plate was overflowing. Her stomach grumbled at the smells rising from the platter.

Ime sat down across from her. “I didn’t know what you’d like so I made a bit of everything.”

“Thank you.” Zaira ate gingerly at first, unsure about her audience. But she’d barely eaten anything in the past two weeks and soon found that she’d scoffed down half her meal.

“So, were you born in the First or Second Era?”

Zaira’s eyes widened, and she looked up to see Ime watching her with curiosity, and maybe a hint of a smile. “I’m sorry?”

“I haven’t used the name Ashoka since my empire fell in the late Second Era. I don’t believe I’ve heard the name refer to me since the early Third Era. So…?”

“First,” Zaira whispered. The end of the Borim coincided with the end of the First Era.

“No…Really? That’s amazing.” Ime’s face was adorned with a large smile.

“Is it?”

“Are you serious? Granted it’s not always enjoyable to watch time pass, but yeah. It's impressive you’ve lived to be this old. And I’m thrilled to meet someone my age.”

Zaira fiddled with her fork.

“Nothing? The few times this has happened before the others had no hesitation gossiping about years past.”

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” Zaira stood and bowed. She almost tipped over, the world swaying.

“Easy.” Somehow Ime, even without her cane, had made it in time to grab her arm and keep her from falling. “Perhaps you should stay here for the night. Or at least, have a nap. I can leave you alone.”

Zaira let her head clear before waving Ime off. “It’s ok. I’ll be fine.”

“If you are sure.”

Ime looked her over. She did seem genuinely concerned but Zaira was done with the executioner of her species for the day, no matter how warranted it had been.

She stumbled out of the cabin. Her wings unfurled; it took them a few moments to cooperate. Many test flaps later she finally managed to take off. Gods was she sore. Ime was right, she wasn’t making it home. She flew as far as she could and then landed. Roughly. The branches of the trees and the rocks she landed on made sure to aggravate her healing wounds and add to the collection.

Zaira took out her bedroll and threw it on the ground. She curled up among the roots and darkness overcame her.

It took longer than normal to drag herself home. Her body was a stiff plank of sore wood, her mind was a VHS, rewinding and reviewing the event of the past couple of weeks in detail. Bodies lying broken under tons of rock. And adding to her sour mood, she was hungry again, and thirsty.

Why had she agreed to this job?

Perhaps, after three centuries, it was time to quit.

Zaira stepped onto her deck and noticed a small face at the corner of the window, pressed up against the glass. She regained a bit of pep as she approached and she cracked a smile when Baby started bouncing up and down, a big smile on her small face.

Zaira opened the door and Baby wrapped her arms around the adult’s legs. Zaira knelt and scooped Baby into her arms holding her tight. A sob forced its way out, and she cried.

Babbling brought her focus back to Baby. The toddler was patting her head.

“You are a sweetheart,” Zaira said as she pulled back from the embrace. She looked at big translucent blue eyes.

This is why she did it. For people. For the families she reunited. The screams when she returned a body torn at her heart and the cries of joy when one found out their loved one was alive soothed it. Even then, she knew how valuable closure was.

She sighed. Guess she wasn’t quitting anytime soon. It was a nice thought though.

Zaira took a few steps in and saw a piece of paper, and another, and another. Baby had found Zaira’s notebook, torn most of the pages out, and scribbled all over them. She’d also pulled out the children’s books. The cardboard ones were intact but the paper ones also had pages ripped out and doodled on. Well, at least she hadn’t touched Zaira’s books.

“Is this your way of telling me you want coloring books?”

Baby wasn’t paying attention to her, she’d gone to get her teddy, which she’d abandoned in the corner.

Zaira let out a long sigh. She dropped her pack and threw the clothes she was wearing in the washing machine. She didn’t start it; she’d need to go through her pack later. She headed towards the kitchen. She would grab a couple water bottles and then lounge in her bed for a couple of days. She blinked a few times. There was a large basket on her counter. A piece of paper tied to its handle read;

You forgot your food when you ran off. I added some extra. Get some rest. – Ime

Zaira wasn’t going to analyze the act. She grabbed the basket and some water and brought everything upstairs.

Dolly and teddy were in her bed, and the sheets were rustled. Zaira placed her nourishment next to the bed, went to the washroom, and climbed under the covers. Her body was heavy, she knew this would be a deep dreamless sleep.

Right before she lost consciousness, she felt a little hand pet her hair.

----------------------------------------

A week later, Zaira found herself stepping into the library without most of her glamours. She had grown weary of her bed and the strength had returned to her limbs. And somehow that ended up meaning going on an intimidating excursion. She couldn’t blame it on fatigue this time.

However, the smile she received from Abraxas was almost worth the panic the trip had created. Zaira gave him a small nod and scurried to the library’s shelves.

She wove up and down the aisles, avoiding any which already had an occupant. She managed to choose a book but when she sat down to read it, she found herself staring at a blank page whilst she trembled. Her heart was in her throat, and she found she had difficulty breathing. She gave up. Mission failed. It had been a ridiculous thought.

Zaira placed her book on the return tray and an empty aisle to hide in. She threw her glamours back up. Her claws dug into her arms, and she concentrated on the pain to keep her from hyperventilating. The disguised demon counted to three before she left her hiding spot for the exit.

“Zaira!”

She was only one step away from the portal. She forced herself to turn around instead.

Abraxas’ large form was standing in the doorway to the left of his desk. He approached her. He made her gaze met his. “I’m proud of you. Here –” He handed her the book she had checked out earlier. “Take it home, you’ve earned it. I trust you to bring it back.”

Zaira opened and closed her mouth. Why? She had chickened out, as per usual.

“Go on. It’s a good read.”

Zaira reached out and took the book. “Thank you.” She croaked out.

Abraxas smiled. “It’ll get easier.” The massive demon turned around and headed back to his desk.

Zaira pinched her lips together and promptly made her exit.

She walked into her home just as Baby vanished. Zaira walked over to where Baby had just been. The toddler had scribbled all over the coloring book she had gotten her. The picture looked more like colorful spaghetti than the fawn pictured. Zaira smiled.

Zaira patched up her wounds and made herself a snack. The already grey skies were darkening. She was in for a treat that night.

By the time evening rolled around, the weight in her limbs had lessened, and her chest bubbled in anticipation. The sun had not yet set, but the sky was as dark as a moonlit night. In anticipation of the show, Zaira had made herself a cup of hot chocolate and moved her rocking chair to the window. She was a third of the way through her mug before the first flash of lightning lit up the sky. She smiled. She sunk into her chair as the sky opened up. There was no gentle start to the rain, it was a deluge. The waterdrops bounced off the deck and twinkled with what little light there was. As the sun went down the world got darker and the storm drew closer, and louder. Without the fireball in the sky, the world was pitch black. Zaira flipped her porch light on so she could watch the raindrops dance.

Her mug emptied and she set it down, but she remained seated with her head laid back, a small smile teasing her lips. She was contemplating going to bed at some point. But she could also watch the entire show.

She gasped as her rocking chair leaned forward without her consent. Her feet immediately planted themselves and she drew a fist. Her arm froze. She saw no intruder. She felt little hands gripping her pants. Her muscles relaxed as a little person climbed onto her lap. She couldn’t see the girl or feel the weight, but she was present. Though her stomach twisted at the alien sensation, she couldn’t help but automatically wrap her arms around the entity. She could feel the child’s chest expand erratically. Zaira rocked them both. She supposed not everyone liked thunderstorms.

Her thoughts turned from the display to the Underworld. Zaira looked to where there should be a face leaning on her shoulder. The girl didn’t belong here.

Zaira contemplated bringing the girl down to the Underworld. After all, there was a Gate nearby and it wouldn’t be too hard to get the spirit to follow.

She could be free.

The toddler’s breathing slowed, and the feel of her body disappeared. Zaira’s eyes closed, and the heaviness in her chest returned.

Maybe I’ll wait a little longer.