Moving through the border felt like fighting my body in a dream. Like I don’t quite exist in reality and the signals from my brain to my body aren’t translating correctly. Well, most of my body feels like this. Stubborn, slow, and pained. Or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say all of my body feels this way. My right arm, leg, and left foot don’t struggle at all. My new… pieces. The bits I haven’t accepted yet, and the pieces that run entirely off of mana. With this in mind, I send mana through my entire body, almost like I’m making a modification. Instead of altering my DNA, however, I simply move the rest of my body. Like I am using a remote control on my own body. The experience is… bizarre. But It works. I move much more quickly and freely, emerging into freedom in a matter of minutes.
As I look back, the rest of the group continues to struggle. Ember has a look of intense focus, but she sort of always has that. Nevertheless, she moves quite slowly. Autumn has her arm around August’s shoulder and he carries the both of them through, lagging well behind Ember. Sara stands directly in the middle, her hands to either side as if she is holding the sides of a doorframe. Her face is remarkably peaceful, even bringing a slight blush to my cheeks as I watch her. She doesn’t struggle to control herself at all. Her efforts go entirely toward helping us through. As always. How does she do it? After everything she has lived through, after what the nexus did to her, how does she make herself vulnerable to it again?
My panic at August’s absence earlier in the morning haunts me. It’s not the first time I have overreacted since Henry’s death. Even leaving my family behind, in a safe place, was hard for me. After leaving Henry behind and… I know I can’t protect my friends all the time. I know I can’t protect my family all the time. I have to trust them to fight on their own while I am not around. I know this. I have always known this. But the concept of the cost and the cost itself… Henry was smiling when I left him. He trusted me, and he paid for it. And I can never apologize for my failure. How can I take friends to a hostile territory and turn my back on them again? How can I face my pain like Sarafyna does? I don’t know. But I need to figure it out.
As I run in this little hamster wheel in my mind, Ember emerges, irritated as ever. Well, almost. She is irritated but something is… missing. It’s almost like meeting an identical twin. That feeling of recognition colliding with an indescribable understanding that you are looking at a different person. It’s not exactly the same; I do recognize her as Ember. But… I feel more comfortable around her, despite her scowl. Like some weight between us has been lifted for some reason. In fact, now that I am distracted from… now that I am distracted, I realize it’s not just Ember. I feel like I’ve just removed weights from my arms and legs. I am no stronger, but I feel lighter than I have for as long as I can remember. Like seeing the night sky from the desert instead of the city for the first time.
“What is taking them so long? That was a far easier trip across the border than the last. Your girlfriend there is a remarkably powerful sage. Those twins should already be here,” Ember complains. Whatever has changed about her, it isn’t her winning personality.
“Well they haven’t crossed it before, you have, cut them some slack,” I rebuke.
“It didn’t seem to bother you much,” she challenges and I sigh.
“Yes, well. I lost a lot of weight recently,” I explain, flexing the mesh covered fingers of my artificial hand. “Made it easier.”
Ember grunts in irritation. “I don’t know why you asked those two to join us. They aren’t strong enough. They’ll only be a liability. You had far better options,” she says and I take a deep breath through my nose. I want to answer her, but I can’t. I don’t know why I wanted the twins. Not… exactly. I certainly can’t articulate it. So I change the subject.
“I need to get stronger myself. A lot stronger. If these sages are as bad as you say. I’m no more prepared to fight them than they are,” I respond.
“Especially here, on this side of the border,” Ember agrees.
“What does that mean?” I ask. Why would it matter which side of the border we are on?
“You can’t feel it? You really are off your game. No matter, you’ll see what I mean soon. You’re right. You need to get stronger. Do you have a plan for that?” It’s her turn to avoid a question, I see. I’ll have time to ask about that tonight. For the time being I can simply answer her question. I look at my new arm, allowing the royal aura to reveal itself for a moment. It’s far weaker than it was in Visenar, but there are fewer people around and we are further from the Radiant Woods. Not nearly as much grief to support it. Nevertheless, it looks like defiance of reality itself, cracking and distorting the air around it with colorless mana.
“I need to learn to use this better. If I am going to have these… stuck to me. I need to make use of the boost they give me. And, well. Now that the cancer is under control… I mean it isn’t gone, but it is under control… In any case, I can start altering my body again. A lot of dead bad guys who wouldn’t be dead without my crimes against the Collector on that front,” I answer honestly. Ember physically recoils at the final suggestion but seems to regain her composure fairly quickly. She apparently has not moved past her revulsion at altering the body. I really need to interrogate that at some point. It is not unique, exactly. People fear change and loss of control in every world I’ve lived in. But there is something… pervasive about this particular idea that smells more than the usual flavor of rotten.
“Well. Whatever it is, do it quickly. Now that we’ve crossed the border, you’ll need as many tricks as you can get. You’re not in your playpen anymore,” she condescends. Again something in the back of my mind prickles at her words but nothing feels normal right now. Instead of answering her, I simply examine the mana around my arm. I need to get stronger. I need better, faster spells. And perhaps, I need to consider leaving humanity behind entirely. If anyone can recognize a hot girl after she grows claws, it’s my girlfriend. I suppose it depends on how discreet I can remain in this new country.
On the one hand, I am apparently the great evil prophecy of death and destruction come to life. On the other hand, that’s the stupidest fucking thing I have ever heard in two lives. I will acknowledge that I, apparently, have been reincarnated. I am living an entire second life. I cannot dismiss the idea that there is a goddess somewhere who is responsible for this. I certainly lack a biological explanation for it. But this does not mean I accept some bullshit prophecy as holding water. I am almost certainly not the only one either. I have seen other women with similar physical traits as well. Even my red eyes, while not extremely common, show up in other people.
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I’ll talk with Sara about it when she is done. As that thought crosses my mind, Autumn and August emerge at last, exhausted, but on the other side. I rush to their side immediately as both gasp for breath. Sara strolls out easily and joins us before I can even speak, putting her hand on Autumn’s shoulder and presumably offering her a little divine strength. It works as the color returns to the weary girl’s face.
“Are you alright, Autumn?” I ask quietly.
“That was impressive, Sarafyna. The sage who brought me over last time didn't make it half so easy,” Ember calls from behind me. I growl but don’t respond. Sara is wrong. I am not the most tone deaf woman in the world. Or she is intentionally mocking the twins for struggling, in which case I may need to leave a rotten fish in her tent tonight. In either case, that doesn’t matter right now.
“She’s… she’s just tired,” August explains, giving me a worried look his sister can’t see. “It’s been a… long week.” Autumn looks up at me with the fatigue of the nearly apathetic.
“One more day,” I say. Only her eyes move, meeting mine.
“One more day,” she agrees halfheartedly. It’ll have to do. I’ll let August comfort her for now. She is more comfortable around him anyway, and more so since…
“I think that’s enough for today. Is there an inn or something anywhere near here, Ember?” I ask.
“Why would there be an inn? We are hardly in the city,” August inquires.
“Potestia is, or was, weird as fuck,” I answer honestly. “Nothing made sense there. I imagine smaller settlements and travelling traders are more common over here. Inns outside of major cities are considerably more likely, even if they are only in little farming towns. So, Ember?” I ask again.
“Not this close to the border,” She dismisses. “Only the Guardians of Stone come anywhere near here, and they live in something of a company town. We’ll have to camp again.”
“Ugh,” I spit. “Mortified to hear the concept of company towns exists here. But I suppose we didn’t come all this way for no reason. Alright. Sorry, Autumn, August. I don’t think hanging around here to meet these ‘Guardians of Stone’ is a top ten idea of all time. We need to find a place to camp as soon as possible.”
“This way,” Ember says with little fanfare before turning and walking away from the invisible wall behind us. A bit rude, but no time to complain. I am enjoying the extended break from murdering people, especially after watching Godfrey die. I don’t want to break the streak because I got in a fight with a pissy Ailur and let the border patrol find us. I sigh and look back at the twins. August nods and Autumn looks down. It’s confirmation enough and I follow Ember. There are more woods a few hundred yards away, almost like they had been cleared for this wall. If we move quickly, we will have concealment in no time at all.
Sara catches up to me in short order despite the quick pace everyone is keeping.. “Are you doing alright Annie? You look tired,” she pokes as soon as she is beside me. I look up with a tight smile.
“Not even fucking close. But… yeah,” I answer as honestly as I can. She seems to understand. “You?” I follow in kind. I should have been asking her that every day for years. I don’t intend to let it go unsaid ever again.
“No. Not even a little. But… yeah,” she answers in kind. As we make it to the safety of the trees and pass inside, I offer her my hand. She accepts it quietly and happily as we slow to a walk. “So, what were you talking about with Ember while you waited?”
I look down at my free arm, my steel arm, before responding. “Getting stronger,” I answer. “Now that the cancer is under control, thanks to… these, I am first trying to decide how I can… improve myself to get stronger. I want to explore the new way I gather mana as well, and what I can do with these new limbs but… I’m not sure. They don’t feel like mine in the same way. Like I didn’t choose or design them. So I want to start with something I did choose first,” I explain. Sara squeezes my organic hand gently, sending another burst of aimless warmth through me.
“I can understand that. I do think…” her scars actually intensify as she speaks, “I do think they will feel like you eventually. But I understand. So, what is the problem?”
“Well, I have always made changes based on visibility before. I am wondering if something like claws to deliver poison would be better. Or hell, horns. Carapace. Scales. Real, visible changes. Things to give me a more obvious leg up in a fight… or, equal amount of legs I guess.” I explain.
“But giving horns to the famous demon queen of legend might be a little conspicuous?” she guesses and I nod.
“Something like that. But I already match the description they have of me. I figure that ship has maybe sailed already,” I suggest.
“Perhaps, but you still look human, if you cover your arm. Looking a bit like a a character from a famous story isn’t quite so obvious as scales,” she counters.
“You’d think. But believe me. A passing resemblance to a woman people are scared of and a sharp tongue? There are people back on Earth who’d have me burning as a witch before I ever cast a spell,” I quip.
“You could always change your hair and eyes,” she suggests. I shake my head.
“That would be a waste of time I could spend getting stronger, unless we invent contacts and hair dye. Besides, the scar refuses to go away no matter what I do. That’s going to be a big tell,” I dismiss.
“Well. I suppose we can reach a town and see if anyone ties you to a stake,” she jokes.
“I mean if you think that’s a good idea, you can tie me to whatever–” I stop myself midjoke, then blush. “Uh, yeah that’s what we’ll have to do. I can make a decision after I see how other people respond. Probably wise, it really does seem likely I’ll be fine like this.” Ugh. Get it together, Annie. That was close to crossing a line, and the blush reflected on Sara’s face reveals it.
She leans in close to my ear and whispers “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you would look great with scales.” My blush deepens and electricity runs down my spine. I try to respond, but another voice loudly interrupts our conversation.
“HALT!” A man yells from behind us.
Well. Fuck.