Momo and Sumire strolled down the streets of the first circle, burrito sauce leaking onto their hands. They had decided to try a new place, Brito: No Chickn, due to the fact that it had one of the more decipherable restaurant names in the city. Of course, its name was ridiculous for other reasons—the No Chickn was a tragic testament to just how poultry-controlled the place had become, but alas.

After doing a lap through Morganium Central Park, marveling at the new infrastructure installed by the skeletal army, they settled on two benches by the pond. The bonemen had constructed a stone fountain there at Momo’s request; it was a perfectly chiseled rendition of Morgana, blood pooling under her feet. The statue was reminiscent of the one back at the Dawn, a piece of nostalgia that Momo wanted to carry with her in the new capital.

“I can’t believe you’ve actually met her,” Sumire said in disbelief, motioning to Morgana. “The queen goddess of literally everything managed to make time for you, meanwhile Nerida never once gave me the time of day. Even before I converted to Jarva’s flock.”

Momo shook her head. “I wouldn’t compare yourself to me. I just so happened to be the sidekick of Morgana’s teacher’s pet. I kind of got nepotism-ed in.”

Sumire laughed. “It’s still hard to believe that’s really how you got here. Summoned from a whole other planet by the giggling psychopath you call a mentor. I always knew I’d end up dating someone foreign—the seas were slim pickings—but you went above and beyond, literally.”

“Not by choice,” Momo mumbled.

“No,” Sumire agreed. “But would you change it?”

The question caught Momo off guard. Sumire was looking at her with a quiet intensity, obviously invested in the answer.

“I… I don’t know,” Momo said, looking down at her hands. “Of course, it would have been nice if I hadn’t died. Food poisoning is still a horribly embarrassing way to go. But I think I would have rather lived this life than lived nothing at all. Floating around in eternal darkness seems way more boring than being Valerica’s errand boy.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?” Momo said, cheeks coloring. “I must have misunderstood—”

“I meant,” Sumire said, interjecting before Momo could apologize. “If you could, right now, would you go back to your life on Earth? And don’t get all sappy and say something about how’d you miss me. I already know that. What I’m asking is… don’t you miss everyone you left behind? I couldn’t imagine being torn from Nura like that. So suddenly. If it were me in your shoes, I’d be fighting tooth and nail to get back to Alois.”

Momo bit her lip, suddenly embarrassed.

“I…” She swallowed. “It wasn’t like that for me.”

Sumire squinted. “Did you not have a family?”

“I did – I do,” Momo said, correcting herself. “But… I just let them down so many times. It got to this irredeemable point, you know? Like I was constantly fighting this quicksand, and I didn’t want to drag them down with me. So I figured cutting them out was better than letting them see me like that.”

“Momo… what?” Sumire laughed incredulously. “That’s not how love works. It’s not something you decide for other people. If you were drowning in quicksand, I’d offer you a hand. I wouldn’t care if you were swatting it away. I’d pull you up without your damn permission. It’s as simple as that. It’s what I’d do for anyone I care about.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you’re you. My parents are different. They have these very specific values. It’s just the way they grew up. They had this report card for me, and I was basically tearing a hole in it, crumpling it up, and burning it in a fire.”

“Good. That’s what children are supposed to do. You know—back when I was eight, nine, ten—I kicked my uncle in the nuts like a goddamn horse after he told me I couldn’t be a sea scavenger. It was a man’s job, he said, so I saw no other solution but to kick him straight in the jimmies. He strung me up on the nets for a few hours afterwards, but I did the same thing again and again, undeterred. It’s called having a backbone. A personality. Eventually he got used to it. Stopped trying to make me something I wasn’t. He even gave me my first scimitar.”

Momo grinned at her as she told the story, utterly smitten. It was so easy to imagine little Sumire as that confident child—with her big, unstoppable grin, her braids catching in the wind, her big brown eyes looking out at the vast sea and seeing a future in it. Momo had never had that same keen sense about her destiny. She was never one of those kids who wanted to be a vet or a nurse or an author. She never had any sort of conviction or long-term goals.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

No, it was quite the contrary: whenever she imagined her future, even at the ripe age of eight, all she saw was a gaping, beckoning void. And a few cats, maybe.

“I don’t know,” Momo said. “Maybe you’re right. But you were only like that because you were a brave kid. I wasn’t a brave kid. I got intimidated by stuffed animals. My high school teachers thought I was selectively mute. I can say a few more words now,sure, but I’m definitely not a brave adult, either. I’ve gotten a little stronger, maybe—I could blow a clocktower down if I tried—but when I think of facing my parents again, or my little brother… I feel just as small and weak as I did when I got here. Like nothing’s changed at all.”

She rubbed her thumbs together, dread creeping up her limbs just thinking about it. Sumire put her own hand over Momo’s, stopping the anxious tick.

“I think you’re plenty brave, Momo,” she said, an unusual gravity to her voice. “What you are is stupid for not seeing it. I mean, look at you—the queen of a fucking nation. You managed not only to find your way in an entirely foreign world, but you ascended to higher places than most locals do in their whole life. I don’t care if you don’t see it, because I see it. You could stroll up to your parents right now and they’d see it too. You’ve changed.”

The words hit Momo like gentle punches to the jugular. She just looked at Sumire and gripped her hands tightly, hoping she wouldn’t float away.

“Anyway. I think our burritos are getting cold,” Sumire said, breaking the fragile silence. “And you wanted to tell me about something.”

“R–right,” Momo said. “I did. But I think it’s better if I show you.”

She reached into her pocket and exposed the Wraith Box. It sat there, quiet and still.

“What’s that?”

“Sera’s latest invention,” Momo said, then went on to explain all of the events that had arisen since the two last saw each other. The campaign trail, the impersonated letter, Nyk’s failed assassination attempt, Lione’s possession and consequent revelation. She wanted to tell her about Kami’s admission, too, but her lips were sealed shut. She didn’t want to invoke the wrath of that [Thief’s Promise].

“So that Lione woman thinks you’re the marked one?” Sumire said, frowning. “The person whose death would… detonate the thing?”

“Yeah.”

“Jolly.”

Momo snorted.

“I thought you’d be a little bit more upset,” she said.

“Of course I’m upset,” Sumire responded, shoving Momo playfully on the shoulder. “But I’m upset every day of my goddamn life knowing I could have found you sooner. Our days are always numbered, and our lives are always under threat—I don’t see how this is any different.”

“But Sumire…” Momo said, fiddling with her hands. “It is different. If I died here, in Morganium, I could hurt people. I could hurt you.”

“So just don’t die then,” Sumire said, growing agitated.

“I wish it was that simple.”

Sumire groaned, tossing her burrito into the statue’s bubbling base. The blood-hungry piranhas devoured its contents in seconds.

“I’m not losing you again, Momo. It was a mistake the first time. I should have never forced you to go on that stupid campaign trail. I was thinking only as your advisor… not as your…”

Sumire swallowed, inhaling sharply.

“I want us to be more than comrades-with-benefits,” she said, turning to Momo with an urgency. Her face was flushed, burnt red with adrenaline. “I want us to be… partners. The kind that live together, share meals together, who sketch terrible portraits and spill paint on the carpet. I want that kind of permanence that never existed on the high seas; that kind of reliability where I know you’ll just be there in the morning. Not in prison, or underwater.”

The woman paused, her breath shaking. Momo’s entire world felt like it was hanging on Sumire’s lips.

“I don’t want you to go off on the road again, hoping to detonate in some far corner of a desolate field,” she said, exasperated. “I want you to stay and see this through with me, no matter the ending. I know it’s selfish, and childish, and illogical—but that’s the kind of person I never got to be. One who made decisions based on something as fleeting as feelings. So now I’m laying my heart out for you to devour, if you must. But at least I can say I tried.”

Sumire looked away, her body language like that of a wounded animal. It tore Momo in two.

“Sumire,” she said, tears dripping down her face as she put a comforting hand on the other woman’s knee. “I want that too. Actually, I want that more than anything. You. A comfortable mattress. A stupid, undead cat mewling for breakfast. I want that life. But first, I need you to help me do something of my own, too. Something a little brave and selfish and illogical.”

Sumire nodded, wiping at her eyes.

“Gods—look at me now. Weeping like a child. Anything you ask, Momo,” she said, sticking her hand out as a promise. “If we’re going to be partners, then that’s what I’m signing up for.”

Momo took her hand in hers, squeezing softly.

“I’m done letting other people pick my fate for me,” Momo said. “I’m not going to wait around for Valerica or Morgana to give me orders, or for Sera to jolt me with lightning, or for the insane, chicken-worshiping citizens of this nation to tell me I’m good enough. I’m never going to be.”

She gripped the Wraith Box in her hand. Her vision blurred until she could see the soul chains whipping out of it, hundreds of them, crying out for mercy.

“I’m going to become an Excalibur faster than anyone ever has. And a Lesser Goddess after that,” she said, her grip tightening. “Until I can heal every soul chain screaming in this box.”

She put the device back in her pocket, took Sumire’s hand, and gave her a watery, confident smile. The pirate woman shared it, squeezing her hand back.

“A queen’s confidence,” she said. “I like it.”

“I’m trying,” Momo laughed.

“So what’s the plan?” Sumire said. “What’s our first step, captain?”

“First step?” Momo said, eyebrows raising. “Our first step is… no more playing on the defensive. No more waiting around. We’re luring that tentacled menace called Jarva right to our doorway. I think it’s time for a sashimi special.”