Gareth shivered as memories of the last time he’d seen the woman’s face came rushing back to him.

“No, no… you can’t… you’re not…” he stammered, as Packer buttoned up her neckline to a less intimate depth.

“I know, I’m not her,” the woman said, taking a knee to match Gareth’s seated eye-level. “It’s me. Andria.”

“I’m sorry,” Gareth sighed, rubbing his eyes, and taking a deep breath. “But all I could think of as you walked right in was… her.”

“It’s okay,” she rubbed his bare right triceps, the only garment on Gareth’s body being a pair of orange jumpsuit pants. “I still remember her every single time I look in the mirror. It hasn’t gotten any easier.”

Gareth’s once-blue, now brown eyes glistened as he gazed at the face of someone who looked exactly like the person he had loved the most on Titan. He touched her cheek, the woman letting him. Feeling her smooth skin made him feel better, but it would never satisfy not being able to hear her voice—Anwen’s voice. She was more reserved and less loquacious compared to her identical twin sister.

“What were you doing in that Stealth Craft?” Gareth asked, pulling his hand away.

“I joined Team Zero,” she answered. “What else?”

“I… I know. But it’s hard to believe they allowed you to join given your disposition.”

“When Anwen--- after she did what she did and after you fled Titan, after Halsten disappeared… I was given two choices: be executed or submit myself to Team Zero. I chose the latter, but everyone believes I’m dead anyway.”

It was true. To become part of Team Zero, one had to throw every aspect of their previous life away. Their death would be faked, and their remaining lives were given in complete service to the General. That was the price a soldier had to pay to become one of the most elite, prestigious squad in Titanian history.

“Who made you do it?” Gareth asked.

“What do you mean? It was obviously Rhona. You know very well this is her idea of mercy.”

“No, I mean… was Gunnar not the General back then? Why is Rhona General now?”

“Right, forgive me. You must’ve hidden yourself away from Titanian society after you ran away. Gunnar is no more. A training accident, they say, nearly a decade ago.”

“It couldn’t have been that,” Gareth clenched his fists, remembering his uncle’s face. So similar in appearance to his own cruel father, yet the only thing that man had going for him was his intelligence. That was why Gunnar’s much elder brother had appointed him General in his final years as Emperor, a position he continued under Halsten in order to rehabilitate the name of the Karesti bloodline. “Gunnar was always getting pushed around, never speaking up for himself. But he would’ve checked a hundred times to see whether or not there were any issues with equipment.”

Andria simply nodded in agreement.

“Right before that, rumours spread about how Rhona wanted to gather support. What for? I’m not sure. But I can only assume it was for replacing Gunnar.”

“So you’re saying Rhona—

“No one can say for sure. But Rhona could never remove Gunnar from your father’s image. She saw him as an extension of him that lived on after him.”

“Why didn’t Halsten prevent that from happening? In fact, where was he throughout all of this?”

“At first, everyone believed him to have gone missing a few months earlier, along with Ilmatar. But after I became part of Team Zero, I quickly learned that he was still alive, but in an incapacitated state. An assassination attempt inside the Royal Palace. Ilmatar didn’t make it. Gunnar and Rhona became acting co-regents—

“And what happened to Ninon?” Gareth inquired of his young niece, the revelation of his sister-in-law’s killing a deep blow to his already aggrieved soul.

“Ninon was unharmed. She’s alive and well. Rhona’s made sure she grows up safely and happily. It’s surprising. You would think she would take advantage of her, too, given her heritage.”

“No, no. That’s wrong. Half Solich or not, Rhona would’ve never hurt Ninon. That’s her niece.”

Andria stared at her hands as she sat beside Gareth at the edge of his bed. She could only imagine what the information she’d given to him made him feel. But Gareth wasn’t one to wait things out. He wanted to learn the moment he had the opportunity to.

“I wish I could’ve become an aunt,” she sighed after a few moments of silence. “Anwen would’ve been the best mother. I could watch her all day long running around with her little one.”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Gareth once wished that he could take Anwen’s hand in marriage, elope to some distant region of the moon, and raise a beautiful family with her. But that was the past. Many things had changed since then.

“Perhaps she wished to become an aunt as well,” Gareth smiled. “Anyways… let’s talk about something else. This is depressing..”

“Tell me about your time on Terra.” Andria proposed.

“Where should I start?”

“From the moment you landed there.”

Naturally, Gareth began speaking about the brisk summer night he plummeted in his craft into the ocean about six leagues south of the southernmost point of Yeupis. The continent of Yeupis was massive, and its landmass alone covered about 35% of Terra’s surface. But the oceans were obscure, deep, and dangerous, especially to Titanians. Water on the skin of a Titanian’s body would kill them if they were drenched for anymore than 10 minutes. Somehow, perhaps partially due to Gareth’s Terran heritage, he had managed to stay afloat and alive in his malfunctioning Craft for eight days. Then a miracle came. A lone bronze-skinned saviour on a 20-foot raft, bearing only a large net, a machete, and a jug of fresh water had appeared before him under a golden sunset.

“Her name was Manisha,” he said. “A woman of 21, yet she had the tenacity and courage of a veteran war general when it came to venturing the open seas alone. I still don’t know why she chose to save me that day, but… I guess I should be grateful.”

“Then what happened?”

“She was able to row me back to Chitran—her hometown--before day came. She spent two weeks in the cover of night recovering my supplies from the sea floor and spent the days looking after me. She must’ve been a damn good swimmer. I rested for a month. No one could’ve guessed the Empire’s most wanted fugitive was staying in a two-room wooden house in a town on the coast of south Yeupis.”

“Excuse my ignorance, but… what’s mud?” Andria, a woman who had only set foot on Terra under the strict supervision of Rhona Karesti said.

“It’s… like a lot of crushed stone mixed with lots and lots of water until it’s like dough. Do you get what I’m saying?”

“I… think so? Sorry, I’m distracting you. Please, go ahead.”

“So, I’d gotten better quickly, but that girl insisted that I stay as her guest. I don’t know if it was because she was just lonely deep inside, but I was aware that I was becoming a burden on her even though she never would’ve admitted it. During another one of those nights she spent working on the water, I fled with my supplies on my back. I rested often so it took me about three weeks to get to Shargara. I didn’t know where I needed to go, just… somewhere I wouldn’t bother people, ideally. I thought I’d go north across the mountains and gather support to really…”

Gareth trailed off as visions of his childhood and adolescence flashed quickly in his mind. He shuddered.

“Gareth? Are you alright?” Andria asked, concerned for her old friend.

“It’s nothing,” Gareth shook his head. “I guess I wanted my mother’s people to make peace with the Empire, but knowing me it would’ve been bloodshed,”

Even against Halsten? Andria wondered.

“I wouldn’t have to worry about that for a while. I reached a suburban area immediately south of Shargara called Kharud, wearing my armor to disguise myself. I felt like I was being pulled there, by someone or something. If Pizna is real, she must’ve brought me there. It was a tenement, but the natives call them chawls. I’ve seen blood and guts spilled thousands of times… but none of that had ever made me feel the way I felt when I saw what had happened inside one of the units.”

He went on to describe the limbs hacked off of bodies, pools of blood reeking of iron, neighbors that refused to get near, and stained footprints that could’ve only come from the boots of Imperial soldiers. But what had horrified Gareth the most was the sight of a small girl, sitting in the corner staring at the disassembled corpses of her parents and at least two other people, completely unable to speak a word or move a muscle. Realising that no one would help her, he decided to take him along with her towards the north. His plan had shifted. His ambitions for change were paused and he decided to take the role of a father.

“You saw yourself in that girl, didn’t you?” Andria asked after some time for reflection.

“It was like looking at my reflection,” Gareth admitted. "If I had the chance to help my younger self, I would’ve. And that’s what it felt like.”

Andria gave him a soft smile of sympathy, aware of only a glimpse of his suffering. But she did know someone who was far more familiar with it.

“So you left her back on Terra with a war on the horizon?” Andria questioned.

“She is prepared. She will survive. I wouldn’t have named her after a tough woman if that wasn’t the case.”

“What did you name her?” she inquired.

A grin appeared on Gareth’s face.

“Anwen.”

“Gareth, you’re a madman,” she sighed, resting her face in her hands. After fully taking in that he’d styled his adoptive daughter after her late sister, she picked her head up after several moments. “That was the last thing Anwen would’ve wanted. That’s not how she would’ve liked to be remembered.”

“Andria… remember how you said that looking at that helpless girl was like looking at myself? Who was by my side for all those years, being the light I needed through all the darkness?”

“…Anwen.” Andria admitted after a few moments of hesitation.

“I want my Anwen to be someone’s light, just as your sister was to me.” Gareth said.

“If my sister was still here, I think she would’ve slapped you across the face with the back of her hand.” Andria sighed.

“She would’ve,” Gareth chuckled. “Is there a better name you could think of?”

“A better name? Oh, let’s see…” Andria sarcastically rested her chin on her fist in thought. “Tia? You know… your own mother’s?”

“My mother didn’t have the strength, mental or physical, that I envisioned for the girl. I was very young when they took me from her, but I do still remember her. And I’ll be honest, it makes me feel horrible. I don’t want to feel that way when I look at that child.”

Andria wanted to offer words of comfort, but a droning noise from the bracelet on her right wrist stopped her from thinking of any.

“It’s time to go,” she said, getting up from the bed. “Rhona’s gonna be out of commission for about six months. You’ll have to remain here until then. I’ll try to visit you as much as I can.”

“Wait,” Gareth said, grabbing her hand as she turned around. “Promise me something. If you ever come across Anwen or anyone you think looks like her on the battlefield, make sure no harm comes to her.”

“I will.” she made a sort of lopsided smile.

“And if you come across Halsten’s son… just don’t kill him. Please.”

“You have my word, Gareth.” she said, squeezing his hand back for a second before the cell doors screeched open.