Chapter XXXII – Manda

Tavian’s dreams had become filled with pain.

Even the pleasant ones would get interrupted by spears of agony.

He was displeased with this state of affairs, and frankly not even annoyed when the doorbell rung and disturbed him from his sleep.

It still took him a moment to gather his bearings. Once he had gained some sense of time and place, he went to kick off his sheets and blankets, but immediately felt the pain return.

Fuck, I had hoped it was just in my dreams.

Gingerly, he pushed away the sheets and with nonagenarian grace rose from his bed. Swaying a few moments he looked around.

I’m on the Amrita.

He rose cautiously, grimacing as he did so and walked towards the wardrobe. The doorbell rung again.

“Coming, coming,” he shouted.

Maybe they heard him. He had learnt his lesson about using the intercom before he was ready.

He found some briefs and trousers and pulled them on. Fragile, his brain still sleep-addled, he walked, barefoot and shirtless to the door. He pressed the button to open it.

Nova stood before him, dressed as she usually was in sleeveless crop top and many-pocketed work pants. Her goggles were, as ever, pushed up on her head.

Her face was, as ever, bright and cheerful.

“Hey, guy,” she said. “You’re looking better… I guess.”

His brain spun about, trying to connect the chain of events that had led to this moment.

“Yeah,” he said, meaninglessly.

Nova looked him up and down. “You’re not dead. So that’s cool.”

“So stoked about that,” said Tavian.

Right, he thought, The fox-lady stabbed me.

“What’s… what’s, um… happening?” he asked, his mind-fog stubbornly remaining in place.

“Sayan sent you and Mu back to us,” said Nova, brightly.

“Sayan…” said Tavian, blinking slowly.

Nova’s smile dimmed a moment. “You doing alright?”

“Tip-top.”

Her smile returned, if dubiously. She nodded. For longer than necessary. “Yeah… it’s just you seem to be struggling… with stuff…”

He gave a thumbs up, but didn’t really know why.

Nova ran a hand through her messy orange hair and looked around. “I, er, came here to tell you that the Cap and Ostara have called a meeting in the common room… I guess… if you’re not ready, you could sleep some more?”

“No,” said Tavian. He paused longer than he felt he should have before following this up. “I’ll come.”

“Okay,” said Nova.

“Okay,” said Tavian. He felt like something was expected of him, but he couldn’t quite work out what it was.

Ouch, he thought.

“You, um, you need me to help dress you?” said Nova.

Tavian’s mind gears turned.

“I, um, I’ll be fine.”

“Cool, cool. Cool. I’ll wait out here, though. If you don’t need me to help. Just so… well, I’ll help you get to the common room.”

Tavian nodded.

Feeling he should say something in reply, he instead said nothing. He closed the door.

Something occurred to him.

He whirled around and opened the door again.

“Mu!” he shouted.

“Whoah!” shouted Nova, surprised by his sudden reappearance.

“Is Mu… is Mu okay?”

Nova took a moment. “Yeah, she’s fine. She’ll be there. It’s all good. Just chill.”

Tavian closed the door again.

It was all coming back to him

The Sanctum.

The fox-woman.

The Wolf Totem.

Vague memories of strange chambers. Dark. Strange people. Ostara (?). Amrita.

Bed.

Sleep.

He thought about taking a shower, but thinking of Nova waiting outside, he decided just to hurriedly dress. He found a loose cotton shirt and pulled it on, struggling with the buttons. He rolled up the sleeves, messily.

He looked around for socks, but the thought of bending down to put them on was entirely too horrific. Instead, he roughly shoved his feet into some shoes.

He returned to the door.

He opened it.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m ready.”

“Love that for you,” said Nova. “Let’s go.”

Tavian was doing better by the time he reached the common room. Nova made a fuss of sitting him in an armchair and making sure he was comfortable (“Harry, get him a drink!”). The pain was still his constant companion, but at least his brain was functioning a little more normally.

Ostara was elegantly placed in a chair facing the rest of them, one leg draped over the other, her long white dress flowing over her form. Apollo sat in her lap, his tail slowly twitching.

Mu was dressed in a simple cotton dress and slippers, her hair uncharacteristically loose. She looked like Tavian felt.

Kal and Seraphina looked much as they ever did – Kal, stoically glum; Seraphina, expressionless. Harry had departed at Nova’s request to fetch Tavian some water.

The only other person was Mingxia. She looked worried.

“Are you… okay?” she asked.

“Great,” said Tavian, attempting a smile. “Never better.”

Nova waved her hands in front of her in a reassuring gesture. “He’s fine… just stupid at the moment.”

“So, normal, then,” said Mu.

“Be nice, Mu,” said Nova. “He got cut up worse than you. I guess he bled out his brain juice. Is that a thing? I dunno, I know machines, not bodies.”

Mu rolled her eyes and then resumed looking like the definition of struggle.

“I’m glad to see you up,” said Ostara with a gracious smile.

“Great to be back,” said Tavian.

“Would you like some pain relief?” asked Ostara. “It has been a while since we last administered any.”

“That might be nice,” said Tavian.

“One step ahead,” said Harry, appearing at Tavian’s side with a glass of water and a small pill. “Get that into you. You’ll feel better.”

“Thanks,” said Tavian, popping the pill in his mouth and gulping down some water.

Almost immediately he felt the sharpness of the pain reduced.

“What’s… what’s happening?” he asked.

“Ostara and myself felt that we should probably conduct a little debrief about the events that have taken place on Yarkan, now that everyone is back on board and awake,” said Apollo.

“Indeed,” said Ostara. “I have received word from Ulduz that a preliminary agreement has been reached between the rebels and the Planetary Government.”

“Does someone mind telling me what happened? Been a bit out of it the last… little while. Y’know, due to the stabbing.”

“Well Chinor got the Totem,” said Harry.

“And then the Clanship came up out of the desert,” said Nova. “Oh, and an army of ghosts swept over Karbaliq, and that pretty much ended the battle there.”

“Did… Karbaliq get destroyed?”

“Reconfigured, more like,” said Nova.

“Right,” said Tavian.

“It was pretty crazy,” said Nova.

“The part I saw was crazy enough,” said Tavian. “So, what then?”

“Sayan took the Kulkana to hang over Yengishahr,” said Kal. “Thanks to Ostara and Ulduz, that was where things paused.”

“Then there won’t be war?” asked Mu.

“I wouldn’t say that… not with any confidence,” said Kal.

“Like Kal says, it’s probably too soon to say definitively,” said Ostara, “But the early signs are as good as we might have hoped for. It certainly wasn’t a foregone conclusion that any arrangement could be reached. Ulduz and Taghay, however, were able to reach an agreement between them. I assisted Ulduz with communicating this plan to Sayan, whilst Taghay took it to the Governor. It seems the Governor is willing to accept the re-establishment of the Jaril Confederacy under Sayan’s leadership – and confined to Yarkan – on the condition that it accept status as an Imperial protectorate.”

“And Sayan agreed to that?” asked Tavian. “From what I saw of her, she’s a pretty fiery character.”

“From my conversations with her, she was initially intending to attack Yengishahr. However, the Verdant Standard Army still had a significant force in the city and many of the tribes were not willing to enter into outright war against the Empire. I believe she has recognised the reality of her situation.”

“But if she can’t take Yengishahr, why did the Empire make such a large concession?” asked Mu.

“Whether she could have taken Yengishahr is an open question,” said Kal. “No one really knows what that Clanship of hers is capable of.”

“Precisely,” said Ostara. “The Governor clearly didn’t fancy his chances taking on the Kulkana. Whether the authorities of the Onyx Tortoise Banner or the Imperial Court will feel the same way remains uncertain. Still, I suspect some among the Imperial authorities feel that quietly smoothing over this situation might reduce the risks of other rebellions being triggered.”

“What do we do now then?” asked Tavian.

“The Captain and I have discussed this, and believe that our involvement in Yarkan’s affairs is over – at least for now,” said Ostara.

Mu appeared to protest. “Can we just leave them in such a tenuous position?”

“You and Tavian have done a great deal for the people of Yarkan,” said Ostara. “You led Chinor to the Sanctum.”

Mu shook her head. “We also led a mortal danger right to him.”

“You’re doing that thing you do again,” said Tavian, “Just take a win for once.”

“What thing?” snapped Mu, but her heart didn’t appear to be in pressing the argument.

“There is something more we can do for Yarkan, though,” said Ostara. “But it will take us far away.”

Mu gave her a questioning look.

“Both Sayan and Ulduz are concerned over Toghrul’s fate,” said Ostara.

“But he can’t return to Yarkan…”

“No, he can’t,” said Ostara. “But they believe that the penal world to which he is being sent is an extremely dangerous environment for him.”

“And they do not want to involve any agents of the new Confederacy in any rescue attempt,” said Kal.

“It would threaten the peace deal,” said Apollo.

“So, we’re going to break a man out of prison?” asked Harry. “We are really not going to be popular with the authorities.”

“We will endeavour to be subtle in our efforts,” said Apollo.

“Subtly breaking a high-profile political prisoner out of Imperial captivity, got it,” said Harry.

Tavian spoke up, “I’ve only been around here for a short time, but do we always end up on the wrong side of the law? I’m not against it, just wondering.”

“Probably more often than would be… optimal,” said Harry.

“Got it,” said Tavian.

“We are of course open to discussion if anyone feels uncomfortable with accepting this mission,” said Ostara.

“Doesn’t bother me,” said Tavian.

“We already blew up half of a Planetary Governor’s mansion. Why stop now when we’re on such a winning streak?” said Harry.

“I’ve got no issues,” said Nova.

“As long as we have an appropriate plan in place,” said Kal.

“I think it’s the right thing to do,” said Mu.

“I don’t mind,” said Seraphina.

“Mingxia?” asked Ostara.

Mingxia shook her head. “Before everything happened in Karbaliq, I had a talk with Tavian. I’m endlessly grateful for everything you have all done for me. I will never forget it. You’ve given me a second chance to live my life. But I’m also not sure I have much to contribute to the crew.”

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Nova. “Course you do!”

Mingxia shook her head again. “No, my mind is made up. Whenever the Amrita reaches a suitable port, I’ll take my leave. I think it’s for the best.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Are you sure about this?” asked Mu, concern in her eyes.

“Yes. I’m sure. Again – I really don’t want anyone to think I’m ungratef—”

“Of course we don’t think that!” exclaimed Mu.

“No one thinks that,” concurred Tavian.

Mingxia looked his way and offered a thin smile. “Thank you everyone. You risked so much for me. Then you risked so much for the people on Yarkan. You’re all really wonderful.”

“We’ll miss you,” said Nova.

“We will,” agreed Mu.

“C’mon, she’s not gone just yet,” said Harry. “We still have time for one more classic Amrita party first.”

“Yeah!” shouted Nova, pumping her fist with enthusiasm. “Let’s have a party.”

Smiling, Ostara spoke up. “We will of course ensure Mingxia is given the warmest of farewells. I know I will be sad to see her go. But before we move to the important business of planning a party, I believe we should conclude this briefing.”

“Of course,” said Nova, doing her best to look serious.

“Going to Luanyuan will not be easy. It will be dangerous,” continued Ostara. “The Captain and I have conducted preliminary research on the planet. There are a lot of gaps in the record, but what we do know is that even among penal worlds, it is known as an especially dangerous one. It is almost entirely covered in dense jungles and has an extremely high mortality rate among convicts.”

“Sounds delightful,” said Harry.

“At least it will offer a change of scenery from Yarkan,” said Tavian.

“Detailed information on Luanyuan is difficult to come by,” continued Ostara. “I will work with Kal and Nova to compile a more detailed briefing for everyone when we get closer, but I do not want anyone taking on this task lightly.”

“There’s something strange about Luanyuan,” said Mu. “I don’t know what… but I can feel it. I feel… uneasy when I look to it.”

“This isn’t just a regular hunch, is it?” asked Tavian. “This is a future sight kinda deal?”

Mu nodded. “I can’t see anything clearly yet. The Tempest has grown weaker since the Kulkana awoke, but it’s still clouding my vision. Perhaps when we move away from Yarkan…”

“I will be honest with you all,” said Apollo. “I have also foreseen that we will encounter something very unusual and possibly very dangerous on Luanyuan. Over and above the natural and human dangers of the planet.”

“Ominous…” muttered Nova.

“I’ll try and get a clearer picture,” said Mu.

“You need to relax, girl,” said Nova. “You only just got out of the last ordeal.”

“It is a lengthy journey to Luanyuan,” said Ostara. “Once we have gone to jump, everyone should get some time to recuperate. It is important for us to move quickly though. We should not leave Toghrul to the mercies of Luanyuan for any longer than we strictly have to.”

“Well, then, let’s get going, I guess,” said Harry.

“That would be best. Nova, can you please perform your pre-jump procedure?”

“On it, boss,” said Nova.

“Mr Locke? Princess Mukushen? I urge you to get the rest you need for your recovery,” said Apollo. “Mr Zhang? Could you please see to it that they receive appropriate nutrition?”

“Naturally, Captain,” said Harry.

“Good food is important to recovery,” said Apollo. “If you would like, I have some excellent vintage sprats I would be willing to part with to aid your recovery.”

Mu looked like she was struggling to form a response. “I—um… we, would…”

Tavian leapt in to save her. “With all due respect, Cap, I very much do not want your sprats. But thank you for the offer. I appreciate the spirit of it. I think Mu here feels the same.”

“Very well,” said Apollo, “Humans are strange creatures, turning down fine sprats.”

“We don’t mean to offend, Captain,” said Mu.

“Of course not,” said Apollo, and leapt from Ostara’s lap to the ground. “I believe then, that this meeting is concluded. Please consult myself or Madame Ostara if you have any further questions or comments on our plan of action. Thank you all for your efforts on Yarkan. You endured much, but I believe we have made the Cosmos a better place.”

The doors to Apollo’s cabin slid open as Ostara entered.

“Captain,” she said.

“Madame Ostara,” he said. “Any further news from Yarkan?”

She shook her head. “No word yet of the higher Imperial authorities’ response to the deal.”

“I am cautiously optimistic,” said Apollo, leaping from the shelf on which he had been perched and strolling over to Ostara.

“Is that something you’ve foreseen?” she asked.

“Perhaps, though it is ever more difficult to discern what is mere hunch from what is the residual of prophecy.”

“You said as much when we left Shangxia,” said Ostara. “You also mentioned that events on Yarkan would lead us to information?”

“I believe that is still the case, but the answers do not lie on Yarkan,” said Apollo.

“You said we would be asked for help, and we were,” said Ostara. “Will Luanyuan provide answers?”

“I cannot be certain, but that is my hope,” said Apollo.

“Is it connected to whatever it was you and Mu sensed?”

“Perhaps,” said Apollo. He wrinkled his whiskers. “There… there are some things I cannot tell you. Yet it is not due to a lack of desire.”

Even in Apollo’s inhuman face, Ostara could see the conflict. “I know.”

“Do you still trust me, Ostara?”

“Of course, Apollo. Always.”

He rubbed his head against her leg. “I am glad. Though I wonder if I do enough to earn such trust.”

Ostara sat on the floor, smoothing her dress around her. She gently patted him upon the head. “You need never worry about that. I will follow wherever you lead. So will the crew.”

“Then I hope that the course I have plotted is the correct one.”

“No one doubts that it is.”

“I doubt… more often as the days and years go on.”

“That’s natural. You carry a great burden. But you always do your best, and we could not possibly ask for more.”

His bright eyes gazed up into hers.

“I fear the Praetors shall not be so understanding,” said Apollo. “Even during these past days and these events on Yarkan, my thoughts dwelt on them. I searched my memory, trying to discern where they might be… but I’ve lost so much.”

Ostara felt a deep desire to sooth his worries, his pain. But even her powers of reassurance had limits. The realisation was frustrating.

“We can only do what is within our power,” she said. “After that, we must have faith that it will be enough.”

Before they could speak further, the intercom sounded. Ostara rose and opened the door. Outside stood Mu.

“I’m sorry… am I interrupting?” she asked.

“No, of course not,” said Apollo. “Please join us, Mukushen. How can I help?”

With a deep breath Mu entered, the door closing behind her. “I… I wanted to ask you something. In Karbaliq I had a vision – of the First Emperor.”

Ostara looked to Apollo. His own gaze remained fixed on Mu.

“He spoke to you?”

“Yes,” she said. “He showed me something. A far-off world, at the edge of our galaxy. It orbited a black hole, an Awakened—”

“You saw the Oblivion Star?” asked Apollo.

“That was what he called it,” said Mu. “It’s true, then?”

Ostara could see from the way her posture slumped, that some part of her was hoping it had all been some deception from the Emperor.

“I do not know what the Emperor told you,” said Apollo. “But the Oblivion Star is very real.”

“He showed me its Theophant,” said Mu. “The Cosmokrator? And he told me that agents of the Cosmokrator – Iron Praetors – would attack the Cosmos.”

Ostara could sense that Mu’s words were having an effect on Apollo. Not one that served to alleviate his worries.

“That much is true,” said Apollo. “Mukushen… I am sorry. It was my intention to tell you all this, but this knowledge – it is a grave burden. I had hoped to give you a little longer living free of it.”

She shook her head. “I don’t blame you. I haven’t known you long, but I am confident that your heart is in the right place. If you kept this from me – from the others – I am sure you had good reason… but since I got back on board the Amrita, I keep thinking about it… wondering how long we have… I’ve tried to see them, these Praetors or the Cosmokrator… but I can’t. I don’t know if it’s the Tempest or something else.”

She paused, then looked at Ostara.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think… do you know?”

Ostara gave her best reassuring smile. “I know,” she said.

Apollo leapt back onto one of the shelves, so that he stood at similar height to Mu and Ostara. “They are difficult to perceive. I was just now discussing this with Madame Ostara. I believe the events that have occurred here are important to the project of resisting the Praetors and their master.”

“The Clanship,” said Mu. “Is it important?”

“It may well be,” said Apollo, “Certainly it’s awakening represents the return of a great power to the arsenal of humanity. It is for this reason; I believe that it is vitally important that the Empire and the Confederacy do not go to war. Unity, not division, gives us the best hope of resistance when the terrible day arrives. I also believe these events have led us on a path that will see us discover something of even greater significance.”

“On Luanyuan?” asked Mu.

“I had the same question,” mused Ostara.

“Quite possibly,” said Apollo.

“Is a Praetor there?” Mu asked.

“In truth, I do not know, but I think it is likely that whatever you and I have sensed waits for us Luanyuan, it is not itself a Praetor. However, I do firmly believe that this encounter shall furnish us with important information.”

Mu swallowed. “Everything you do… it is to prepare?”

“Yes,” said Apollo simply.

“The First Emperor said the same thing. He said he built the Empire itself to ready humanity to resist.”

“Perhaps that is true, perhaps it isn’t,” said Apollo. “I cannot see the Emperor’s will, but I have no doubt, that as a Theophant of Nara Enduri, he saw much of the Oblivion Star’s plans. His vision was likely clearer even than mine.”

“He told me I would have to embrace my destiny, to accept my heritage,” said Mu.

“Your heritage is undoubtedly important,” said Apollo.

“Then everything I’ve done – all the dangers I’ve brought – the Resonance Bureau, Zhen Yan – it was all for nothing? I should just return to Aixingo?”

“Your heritage is a part of you,” said Ostara, softly, “But your future is still yours to forge. I’m sure the Captain has greater wisdom to impart.”

“Ostara says it well,” said Apollo, “When I say that your heritage is important, that does not mean I believe your role is the one your father or the First Emperor envisaged. What it is, I cannot fully say, but I knew before we even met that you were important. And specifically, I believe it is important that you came here, to the Amrita. So please, do not construe your flight from Aixingo as futile, or as a selfish act. Your true role will become clearer in time, but if you are willing, we will discover it together.”

“Okay. Alright,” said Mu.

“Do not endure your burdens alone,” said Ostara. “You are still in a great deal of pain. That is likely amplifying the anxiety you feel. This was a cruel thing to learn under such circumstances, but now you know we too are aware of it. We are always here to talk if it becomes too much.”

“Thank you,” said Mu. “Both of you. I don’t know what would have become of me had I not found the Amrita.”

“But you did,” said Apollo. “So, you need not worry about that.”

“And we’re glad,” added Ostara.

She could see Mu was still wavering, still uncertain. “Would a hug help?”

Mu’s eyes became watery. “Yes,” she said meekly.

Ostara wrapped Mu tightly in her embrace. Behind them Apollo landed lightly on the floor and brushed against their legs, his head leaning on Mu.

After a while, Ostara pulled back.

“Mukushen,” said Apollo. “Knowing of the Oblivion Star… it can make the Cosmos seem a dark place. Just try to remember: this Cosmos contains much beauty, much hope as well. You have fought many hard battles these past weeks – and in truth, there are likely more to come. But make sure, amongst it all, that you make time for the little moments of light. Visit Ostara’s garden, and smell the flowers. Play games with Nova and Seraphina. Listen a little to Tavian’s songs. Drink one of Harry’s concoctions. Even Kal – who I know can seem a little dark at times – ask him to train with you in the gym. It will lighten your mood and clear your mind. Never lose sight of these things.”

Mu nodded through eyes still glistening.

“And of course… if you change your mind about the sprats…”

“I know where to find you, Captain,” said Mu, with a little laugh.

On the edge of Yarkan’s system, several billion kilometres further out from its sun, where the Tempest was all but gone, a single vessel drifted through the immense emptiness of the Cosmic dark. The light of the star was faint out here, the interior left shadowy by the dim lighting of the vessel’s interior.

A single occupant threw herself down on the worn old couch that sat in one of the vessel’s two rooms.

Zhen Yan stretched herself out, kicking off her shoes.

She glanced around the dark cabin.

She didn’t know what she was looking for.

It was only her there.

Alone again.

What now?

For the first time in many years there was no hunt, no prey, no purpose. She was adrift in the Cosmos in every sense.

She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath.

There was one more thing to do. She knew it wasn’t wise, but the compulsion was too strong. She wouldn’t be done with all this unless she did it.

She opened her eyes, grabbed her tablet from the table by the couch and put in the call.

“Zhen Yan,” came Big Bai’s voice. “I have heard what happened on Yarkan.”

“I figured you might have.”

“The rebels took Mukushen. They would not hand her over.”

“Truly? I didn’t know.”

“Which means you don’t have her,” said Big Bai. “The Governor will not be pleased. I am not pleased.”

Zhen Yan pushed away her uncertainty. “I don’t care,” she said.

“I’m sorry?”

“I don’t care,” she said again, louder this time.

“You failed me.”

“I made a choice. I didn’t fail. The mission was aborted.”

“Why?”

“I had my reasons.”

“That is not acceptable.”

Zhen Yan smiled to herself. “Oh well.”

“I do not take well to failure,” he said. “I thought I could rely on you.”

“I’m tired of people like you and the Governor,” said Zhen Yan. “You’re just the layer of scum that forms on the surface of this Empire. I am no longer at your beck and call.”

“How dare you—”

“What are you going to do? I’m the person you send. You don’t have anyone who can catch me. I’m going to disappear now. Make your threats if you like, but we both know they’re empty.”

“If you ever set foot on—”

“On Shangxia? I have no need nor desire to ever return. I’m done. I’m just calling to say goodbye.”

He yelled obscenities at her and she held the tablet farther from her ear.

Once she judged he was done she spoke again. “I don’t know how, but the Cosmos is going to change. Change for the better. I have it on good authority. And that can only be bad for people like you.”

He had seemingly worked the obscenities out of his system now. When he spoke, it was in an icy cold tone. “You of all people cannot act so righteous. You kill for a living. For people like me. If I am scum, then what does that make you, Zhen Yan?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “But I’m going to find out.”

She hung up the call.

Alright, Xingyan. I’ve done it.

The dark was silent.

The emptiness yawned – inside and out.

You’re really gone now, huh?

It’s a shame you wasted your short life with a monster like me.

But I’m going to try.

Try to be something else.

Not because of guilt.

Not because I’m good now.

Just for you.

Only for you.

You deserve that much.

She propped herself up on her elbow and gazed out at the starry void. So many pinpricks of light. So many worlds turning around those lights.

Somewhere out there was something.

Something to fill the emptiness.

Time to discover it.

Tavian was in a contemplative mood when the doorbell rang. He placed down his mandolin and walked over, opening it.

There stood Mu.

“Princess,” he said. “What an unexpected surprise.”

“Can I come in?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Don’t see why not.”

“I’m not… bothering you?”

“Course not!” he said with a grin, “Come, take a seat.”

She entered and sat down on the room’s one chair. Tavian returned to sitting on his bed where he had been previously. He picked up the mandolin and absent-mindedly plucked at the strings. Mu looked down at her feet.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

“I dunno. A lot. Nothing…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” he said.

She was silent a moment, clearly contemplating what to say next. “You were playing?” she asked, pointing at the mandolin.

“Just tinkering with a song I’ve been working on,” he said.

“Not too sore to play?”

He shook his head. “It takes a lot to keep me away from my music. Helps the healing.”

“You feel it whenever you play, don’t you?”

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“The Starflow…”

“Yeah, it’s always there,” he said. “Well, not always, I guess. There were times on Yarkan I couldn’t feel it. To be honest that was kinda unnerving. Even when everything’s going to shit, I could always play music and feel… less alone? Connected?”

Mu nodded.

Tavian continued. “Was it like that for you? When you couldn’t feel the Starflow on Yarkan?”

“Not exactly,” she said. “I… truth be told, it hasn’t always been a source of comfort to me. The things I see… sometimes they’re… dark.”

“Can’t appreciate the light without the dark,” he replied.

“That’s one of those things that sounds nice, but doesn’t really mean anything.”

He shrugged and gave a small laugh. “Maybe. I dunno. Makes sense to me.”

“How do you do it?” Mu asked. “You’re always so… happy.”

He laughed again. “That the way it looks?”

“Yeah… even when you were just about bleeding out in the Sanctum you still had this dumb grin on your face.”

He shrugged once more. “I dunno… you can choose to be happy or sad. May as well choose the former.”

“You can’t just choose.”

“No,” he conceded, “I guess you can’t. But I still try to see the funny side of it. The absurdity of it all. We were in an ancient temple, I’d just played music for a bunch of ghosts, and a shapeshifting nine-tailed fox-lady was attacking us. No shortage of absurdity.”

Mu gave the tiniest of laughs. “I guess so… but still…”

There was a silence. Tavian strummed a little more.

“Do you think… we’re strong enough?” asked Mu.

“Strong enough for what?” asked Tavian.

“For what’s coming.”

“Well, Princess… Mu… I don’t know what’s coming. That’s kinda your domain. But one way or another, I’ve stayed alive up until this point.”

“On Shangxia we were saved by Kal, then by Black Dragon. If Zhen Yan hadn’t changed her mind on Yarkan, we would have died. She had us at her mercy. We’ve been lucky. But you can’t always be lucky.”

“I try to be,” said Tavian. “Lucky, that is.”

She gave him a glare. “I’m being serious.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I guess I just feel like if you open yourself up to the good in the Cosmos… well it will come to you. The good. Luck. Whatever.”

“That doesn’t sound like a sustainable strategy,” she retorted.

“Like I said, got me this far.”

“But how much further?”

“Well, again, like I said – you don’t need to tell me what’s on your mind, but I’m guessing it’s got something to do with this whole line of questioning. Tell you what, if it will make you feel better, let’s work on getting stronger together.”

“How do you propose we do that?”

“You know the concept of Manda?”

“Like… Resonance?”

He bobbed his head from side to side. “Kinda. I guess. But I think it’s more than that. I’ve heard it described as knowledge of the Stars, of the Starflow. Resonance is part of that – it’s what makes it possible. But knowing the mind of the Stars, it opens up so much more.”

“And you know how to do this?” she asked, sceptically.

“Not really. I think – for me – playing my music has something to do with it.”

“So how am I supposed to do it?”

“I dunno. But I’m happy to help work it out, if you want. I think even powerful Resonants, they only access a tiny portion of the Starflow. Cultivating Manda – it’s how you harness so much more of what is already there. There are monks who meditate on the Starflow to cultivate Manda. For me, like I said, it’s about playing music. When I play and think… deeply… really feel the patterns in the Starflow, the way it moves through me, the way it interacts with the music… it’s like I’m closer to Lady Anu.”

“Who is this Lady Anu? You’ve mentioned her before,” said Mu.

“She’s the one who watched over me and the people of my world. I think everyone who knows Her has a different, unique relationship with Her, so I can’t really answer in any more precise way than that,” explained Tavian.

“She’s your Goddess?” asked Mu. “Is she a Star?”

“You could say she’s a Goddess, but if she’s a Star, I don’t know which one,” said Tavian. “It always seemed to me she was just everywhere, like the voice of the Starflow itself.”

“The Starflow comes from the Awakened Stars,” asserted Mu. “Like Nara Enduri.”

“Maybe you’re right,” said Tavian. “I don’t pretend to be a great expert in these things. I just know what it’s like for me, what I’ve been told, what I’ve experienced.”

He paused, then continued.

“I don’t know what it’s like for you, thoguh. Very different, I’m sure.”

“The vision,” said Mu, “Sometimes I can look… but usually only a short way into the future. The things that come to me – the dreams – they’re more distant, more abstract. I know they’re telling me about things that are yet to come, but…”

“Maybe with greater Manda, those futures will become clearer,” said Tavian.

“There’s a part of me that would like to be done with them,” said Mu. “Just shut myself off from them. After they started – the visions in my sleep – I could just never be content. They were a big reason of why I eventually fled.”

“Then maybe they freed you,” said Tavian. “Is it really a good thing to be content with a prison?”

It was Mu’s turn to shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I guess we’ve got that in common. We don’t know. But at least, unlike some people out there, we have enough sense to admit as much.”

“That’s something, I guess,” said Mu.

“Well, are you in? It’s up to you.”

“For cultivating Manda?”

“At least giving it a shot. You said you wanted to be stronger,” said Tavian.

“I do… I just… I want to be able to protect people,” said Mu.

“So noble.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“No… no. I mean it. You’re a really fundamentally good person and I think that’s why you give yourself such a hard time. And, look, I’ll be the first to say that gets a little annoying at times. But, whatever. I’ll give as many peptalks as needed to get you to start being a bit gentler on yourself.”

“Fine,” she said.

“Fine?”

“Let’s do it. Let’s learn the mind of the Stars. Or Lady Anu. Or whatever it is that’s out there.”

“Deal.”

Silence descended.

For a moment.

“So, when do we start?” asked Mu.

“Well, let me play you a song,” said Tavian. “And you can think about the Stars while I play, if you like.”

“You think that’s all there is to it?”

“We’ll do some more reading on it all later. Maybe ask Apollo or Seraphina. They seem to know what’s up. But for now… do you want hear a song?”

Mu was slow in responding. But eventually she said, “I’d like that.”

“Okay,” said Tavian, smiling. “Okay. Nice. I call this one Starbound Voyager. It’s a Tavian Locke original. Been working on it since I came to the Amrita.”

With that he began to play. Softly he sung.

Mu listened, gazing his way.

She smiled.