Sasha left the alleyway with a completely blank face. There was so much to worry and think about that she ended up thinking about nothing. Was this how it felt to be a “hero”? It felt as if a balloon full of fog inflated in her head. Primus dragged across the ground again. “Hey, don’t feel too bad.”

“Why?”

“Well, um, if it helps any, the way you killed Ryan was totally tubular.”

She stopped in her tracks. “Thank you?”

“No problem.”

Their slow tread home continued until Primus caught her attention again. “Hey, Sasha.”

“What?”

“Do I have to go back into the sock?”

“Is it that bad?”

“It’s like being suffocated purple, but without the sweet release of death.”

She looked down at Primus and he looked back up at her, that supernatural eye on the hilt eerily human. “Can you make me a promise?” Sasha asked.

“It depends.”

“Don’t tell anyone about our… adventures, don’t scare away our customers, and don’t wake the whole house up at midnight with yelling.”

“Difficult. That’d mean not being myself. What would I get in return?”

“As long as you’re mine, I’ll never put you in the sock.”

Primus laughed softly. “Sounds like living again.”

Sasha entered the back yard to find Abdul standing there looking worried with a lit black iron lantern, staring her down. He saw her and Primus sprayed red with blood. The machina cleared its throat awkwardly. “Bonk?”

“Of course not,” Sasha shot him down.

Abdul ran up to her, stricken by an overwhelming mix of emotion. Bewilderment toward her disappearance and all the blood, anger toward himself for being so late, worry for his future. “Augh, what’s happened to you!? Are you hurt!? Randle’s gonna freak out about this when they wake up. Xavier and I are as good as unemployed.”

Sasha pondered a response, flicking through lies in her mental filing cabinet, before coming up blank. “Are you the only one who noticed? Is everyone else asleep?” She asked cautiously.

“Well, yes. Why?”

She avoided eye contact, instead gazing at her feet. “Can you keep a secret?”

***

The next day, Sasha stared at herself in the mirror with a slight tremble to her lips. They’d find her if things didn’t change. After taking off Ley’s earrings for the first time in years, she observed an unfamiliar bottle of blonde dye her new subordinate picked up for her on his break. This was only a fraction of what she’d procured. Makeup, clippers, and more sat on her bathroom counter. Sasha didn’t expect Abdul to be so cooperative. So understanding.

Over an hour passed before she left the bathroom. Randle leaned back in his recliner. She approached him from behind before stepping into view, arms crossed behind her back. “What… do you think? Do I look different?” She asked with hesitation.

He stared at her blankly. “What have you done to yourself? And where’re your earrings? I figured they were a part of you.”

“Just figured I’d mix things up.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Yea, you look different. Too different. But that aside, that’s way too much makeup. You look like a jester. I’d understand a little touch up, but come on.”

She frowned as he continued. “Looked fine just the way you were. Ah, sorry for coming off rude though. If you really wanna look all dolled up, be my guest. I just don’t get it myself.”

“No, it’s fine. I appreciate you for your honesty. I figured it’d look like shit. It’s just that I was young when we lost our mom. She didn’t get to teach me much.”

Randle sighed. Looking the other way, he asked a tense question. “I can show you the proper way if you really want.”

She tilted her head. “Excuse me?”

“Your makeup.”

“Really? Last thing I excepted to hear from you.”

“It’s been a while, but I know my way around a brush.”

“Are you joking?”

“Nobody’s what they seem.”

He stood up with a groan and motioned her to follow him. Then she stood rigidly straight and braced for impact as he critiqued her lack of talent in the mirror. His comments could’ve made her cry if she had tears to spare. “Too much eyeshadow and liner. You look like a racoon. Foundation too. Gods, this is horrible. We’re gonna have to start over from scratch. Wash your face off.” Then he squinted staring at her. “Are your eyes brown now? How?”

“They’re contacts.”

“Don’t know what those are but sounds like a waste of coin.” He shook his head in disappointment.

“It’s a New Age of science, they say.” Sasha yawned as he observed her face with great focus, brush in hand, like a painter. She was gonna be there a while. Randle’s brow furrowed and eyes sharpened. “Stay still.”

“Sorry.”

“No more sorries either. You owe nobody an apology.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

As he touched up her face, he spoke a bit less harsh than usual. “When I was a kid, I had no father too. It was just me, my mother, and a ton of sisters. It was rough, but we survived. I learned everything from those women. Then when I got around your age, I met Cheryl. It’d be my luck that we’d only have girls.” Then he let out a chuckle.

Sasha’s eyes drew to his wrinkled dark face and grey eyebrows. “Where are they? Your family?”

“One day, they got up and left. Didn’t even leave a note. It was all my fault. I’d turned into too sorry a drunk.”

“Do you miss them?”

“I do. It’s been about a decade. The only thing I ever pray for is that they’re alive, wherever they are.”

Cold silence stung the air as Sasha’s throat became sore. Randle set his brush down and uttered an unenthused, “Tada. What do you think? I tried my best to preserve what makes you naturally beautiful.”

Sasha checked herself out with a warm grin only to be surprised by quiet tears streaming down her cheek, down into the sink, down ruining Randle’s precise work. His eyes widened. “What is it? Why’re ya crying?”

“I don’t know but thank you. Thank you for everything.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Sasha retreated back to her room quicker than usual. Randle just stared at her closed door before wandering off back to his duties. In the shopfront, Abdul stood on guard as usual, his twin gone on errands. “Abdul, can I have your thought on something?” Randle asked.

Abdul nodded slow. “What is it?”

“Sasha’s been weirder than usual lately. She’s on edge. You notice anything I’m not seeing?”

Abdul pondered a bit before shaking his head dumbfound. “Nothing in particular. The woman’s mind is a book, and I’m illiterate.”

“I see.”

“Just looks like she’s growing up to me. Maybe she’s worried about a boyfriend or something. Girls especially her age do get hit on—,” Abdul noticed Randle’s face twist to showcase a shade of animosity he never wanted to witness again. “Or not. Doubt that’s the case,” he corrected.

Sasha laid on her bed, vacantly zoned into the ceiling. Primus rested unsheathed up on the wall mount, his spiritual blue eye wavering like candlelight as it watched her. “Would an adventure cheer you up, Sasha? Perhaps another owl hunt?” The machina asked.

She didn’t even look at him. “I’ll never fight again. I’ve made a horrible mistake. That guy with the crow mask was right. This isn’t a fairytale. Kids that meddle too much are just killed. I can’t change anything. This world doesn’t care about what’s right or wrong.”

“No fun or point in toiling over the past, human. All you have to do is kill them all. If no owls are left, then who will chase you?”

“You make it sound easy. There’s probably hundreds.”

“But you’re not alone. There are the guards, the old man, and that muscle head from The Colosseum and his boys. Lean on them. They’d protect you.”

She turned over onto her side. “I don’t want anybody to ever die looking after me again. Not after Ley.”

“If he’s truly dead. So, you gonna give up?”

She glared at him, failed to think of a response, and then took a deep breath. What would Ley do? Against Rath Ghul? Fight?

Her mind wandered to suffocating darkness. Depths lower than The Eversea.

What if he actually gave up on me? Left this city, Low Monestate, to live without the burden of taking care of me?

I…

I hope he’s happy.

Similar days passed until Sasha found herself with a basket navigating through The Bazaar District’s bazaar. She’d adapted to her new look and aesthetic morning routine with Randle’s help. With the blond hair, brown eyes, and makeup, she’d reclaimed at least a fraction of her confidence to be seen outside. Rath Ghul wouldn’t take her. A bigger emergency occupied her mind that day though. There was no room to worry about her own safety.

Randle fell sick. Dreadfully sick.