Aubrey regained consciousness for the first time several days later. But only for moments at a time. Flashes of images as she floated naked in the Kyphosis Chamber.

She was in a simple white room. She could see her friend’s faces, watching her, looking in through the round glass tube. Sometimes it was Nube or Ado, other times Jon or Mamre. Even James was there on occasion, she thought, though she couldn’t be certain. And always Amur, sitting quietly in the back, legs folded neatly under his torso as he waited.

Finally, the blackness receded. She could hear voices now.

“You’re cheating!” Ado said.

“I am not!” Nube shot back. “You’re just not very good.”

Aubrey opened her eyes slowly.

She had apparently been moved to a sleeping pod. Her white uniform had a neatly cut hole on the left side of her torso, exposing the skin of her midsection where the deep wound the Xaphan had inflicted had been.

The scraggy gash had healed for the most part, but a thick, jagged, purple scar ran from her navel around her body to the small of her back.

She glanced over and smiled as she watched her two friends bickering as they played some sort of hand-to-hand fighting game. Their virtual figures hovered between them as their aglets flicked.

Ado looked terrible, his skin still bore what looked like burn marks where the bruises had been. His frame was bent, and his movements sluggish. His right hand trembled, and his speech seemed slower than it had been.

Amur sat against the back wall, slumped over, his eyes resisting his attempts to stay awake. His head bobbed as he fought courageously against exhaustion.

Nube’s soldier sliced Ado’s in half. She laughed wickedly.

“You clearly hacked the program,” he said. “You must have altered the… we don’t know, the reflex subroutines or something.”

“Aw… it’s so cute when you try to talk about things you don’t understand,” Nube teased.

Aubrey sat up. She gasped sharply. Her side was still tender.

Nube and Ado both looked at her, grinning.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” she said.

Her friends jumped to their feet, practically tackling her.

“Ouch!” Aubrey winced. “Easy, there. Easy.”

Her friends backed off.

“Sorry,” Nube said. “We were just worried is all.”

“How long was I out?”

“Thirteen days, six hours, forty-seven minutes and sixteen seconds,” Alzar answered. “And on a personal note, it’s damned good to hear your voice again.”

Aubrey grinned. “I didn’t think it was possible, but I actually missed the crazy voice inside my head.”

Amur pulled himself to his feet, and approached. He stopped short as Aubrey beamed at him. He smiled back before bowing deeply.

“I am pleased to see you are okay,” he said, his face pointed at the ground. Aubrey reached out and touched his shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re okay too.”

Amur stood back up straight, smiling from ear hole to ear hole.

“What about the others?” she asked.

“They’re fine. Even Twiki.” Nube glanced around the room. “Well, not that anyone cares.”

“Nam Rood declared her the victor in the final tournament,” Ado added. “She’s been intolerable. Even more than usual.”

The door slid open, and there stood High Commander Nam Rood, dressed to the nines in his full military regalia.

“All of you, out,” he ordered.

Nube gave Aubrey another hug, and Ado squeezed her hand before the two left. Amur stayed rooted in place, maintaining his vigil.

“You too, Amur.”

He didn’t move, instead looking at Aubrey.

“It’s alright, Amur, I’m okay now.”

He glanced up at Nam Rood, before bowing low one last time, and following Ado and Nube out the door.

Nam Rood chuckled, shaking his head as the door closed behind him. A chair materialized out of the floor near her sleep pod.

“Do you mind?” he asked as he approached.

“Please,” Aubrey said as she gingerly stretched her stiff muscles.

“Your squad took turns watching over you,” he said.

She smiled, thinking of the flashes of their faces.

“Except Amur. He refused to leave your side the second he was out of his med-bay.” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen a commander engender such loyalty so quickly.”

Aubrey blushed.

He sat back in his chair and sighed.

“I’m not sure if I should commend you, or arrest you for insubordination.”

“Both probably.”

“You’re probably right.” He laughed. “How are you feeling?”

She poked at the jagged scar that ran along her side and winced. It burned as the fresh scar twisted. “Sore, but otherwise okay.”

“Not physically,” Nam Rood said, his eyes locking onto hers. “I mean, how are you doing. That was your first real fight.”

She sighed, her eyes dropping to her lap. “I feel… okay,” she said. “Which is almost worse.”

Nam Rood nodded, more somber than usual. “That’s the horrifying secret war teaches. How easy it is to take a life.”

She nodded as she swallowed the lump of guilt that had crept into her throat.

“Aubrey, the reason I wanted to talk to you alone, is I’m concerned about you. About your future.”

“You are?”

He seemed surprised by her uncertainty. “Of course I am,” he said. “I’m concerned about all of my students.”

“You have a strange way of showing it,” she muttered.

He snorted. “Why, because I’m hard on you?”

She avoided his gaze.

He thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Aubrey, you experienced your first battle here at Bavel. Did you feel prepared?”

She looked down at her hands, her finger picking at her knuckle.

“Were you prepared to watch your friends die? To order your friends into battle, into a situation you knew they would likely not come back from?”

She shook her head.

“My goal is not to coddle you, not to give you warm hugs and tell you everything will be okay. That’s what your parents are for.”

“I don’t have parents anymore,” she said softly.

Nam Rood’s voice tempered. “The only way to grow up without trauma is to be deceived. And then, you’ll never learn how to deal with pain.”

She nodded her head.

“This is why the Five have given us the Yassa. There is strength found in its principles. Principles you have yet to embrace.”

“I won’t do it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Then you’ll die,” he said simply. “Sooner or later, you’ll die.”

“Maybe it’s better to die than live as a monster,” she said, her voice louder.

“Naive little girl. Life is always preferable to death. You’ll learn that, with time.”

“Just because you’re older, doesn’t mean you’re right,” she said, anger rising in her voice. “It just means you’ve had more time to be wrong.”

Nam Rood grinned, shaking his head. “You remind me so much of your father sometimes.”

Her eyes widened, her face pulled tight at the mention of her dad.

“Just think about it. That’s all I ask,” he said quickly, before her rage boiled over. “Research the Yassa, read it aloud each night. Study the Five Recitations of Wiu Mala Asar. Really try to understand the history of how the Five gave the Yassa, and why. Can you at least do that?”

She thought for a moment before nodding her head.

“Good.” He clapped his hands on his knees before standing.

“What’s going to happen now?”

“Everything,” he said.

She glanced down again. She didn’t know why it was so hard for her to look Nam Rood in the face.

“I…” she hesitated. “I don’t want things to change.”

He chuckled.

“The only constant in life is change. Some you can control, but most you can’t. The best you can do is learn to adapt.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

She nodded her head.

“Now, I’ve got some other business to attend to.” He walked to the door. “Besides, I think there are some people who’d like to see you.”

The door retracted, and in flooded her teammates, along with Mardon and several other students. They cheered, taking turns hugging and celebrating.

Aubrey stood, shakily, and hugged Amur tightly.

“Nam Rood told me what you did,” she whispered in his ear. “I don’t deserve it.”

He hugged her back. “You are my friend. And that is an amazing, miraculous thing.”

#

Later that night, Aubrey and her team slowly wound their way from the mess hall to their barracks. Aubrey still walked stiffly, her side ached when she twisted or shifted her weight. The med-bay A.I. had informed her that the pain would subside, but the severed nerves could take months to heal properly. There was a patch of numb skin just above the wound that she couldn’t help but poke and prod with her fingers.

Ahead, she saw Professor Enos watching her.

“Come with me,” Enos said coldly.

Nube glanced at Aubrey nervously. Aubrey simply shrugged, and followed Enos down the corridor and into one of the empty classrooms.

As the door shut, Enos turned and hugged Aubrey.

“Thank the Five you’re okay,” she said softly. Aubrey’s face twisted in disdain as she pushed Enos back.

“What are you talking about?” Aubrey said, her voice ice.

Enos’ cold visage cracked, and sorrow washed over her.

“I know…” she stammered. “I know I’ve been cruel.”

“Cruel doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Aubrey said, anger rising in her throat. “You’ve taken some sort of perverse pleasure in torturing me.”

Enos shook her head. “You’re wrong. We’re a lot alike, you and I.”

“No, we’re not.”

Enos looked down at her hands. “We’ve got more in common than you think,” she said. “I was once a student like you.”

“You’re nothing like me.”

“Please, just…” Enos hesitated. “Just hear me out.”

Aubrey pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing.

“I was just like you, I was pulled from the year 2005. On my fifteenth birthday.”

Aubrey’s eyes widened. She sat down carefully in a nearby chair.

“There were thirteen of us pulled into the same class. The most ever in a single grouping here at Bavel. We were just like you. Kind. Optimistic. Loving. Always trying to help others be better.”

She clenched her fist, rapping her knuckles against one of the desks. She looked down at her robotic hand, avoiding Aubrey’s harsh gaze.

“I was the only one who survived the first two years.” She looked up at Aubrey, her eyes pleading. “It’s impossible to make your way through this world without being cruel. When this world is so cruel to you.”

Enos licked her lips. “I see greatness in you Aubrey. The same greatness I saw in your father.”

“You knew my father?”

“I knew him well. We fought together in countless campaigns. He was my…” She paused. “He was the greatest soldier I ever met, and my best friend.”

Aubrey bit her lip. “Did you… Did the two of you…”

“No,” Enos shook her head. “No, of course not. I had always… hoped. But he loved your mother deeply. Even though she had been dead for hundreds of years, he would never have betrayed her.”

Aubrey breathed a sigh of relief.

“The reason I’m hard on you Aubrey, is because I want you to do more than simply survive. I want you to thrive. I want you to do great and marvelous things. The worst thing you can tell someone is that they are good enough.”

Aubrey’s cheeks stung.

“Tell me something,” Aubrey finally said. “In all the years you’ve been here, all the years you’ve been cruel, how many times have you produced greatness? Once? Twice? Ten times?”

She stood, rage burning hot in her belly as tears rimmed Enos’ eyes.

“Give me a number,” she demanded. “Something to outweigh your cruelty and malice. Anything to outweigh the hate you’ve burned into so many children.” She trailed off. “Children,” she repeated. “We’re just children. How can you live with yourself? How can you live with how you behave?”

Enos inhaled sharply. “I’m a survivor, Aubrey. I don’t have the luxury of principles. I’m not equipped to know how to care anymore.”

“Sure you are. You’ve just forgotten how.”

Enos snorted. “You don’t know what it’s like out there. They’ll tear you apart. When the wolf hears the deer scream, it comes running. But it’s never to help.”

“You can’t change the system until you realize you’re part of it. You can’t stand outside looking in, hoping to stay above the fray and madness.”

“Maybe…” Enos said, her hand absentmindedly tracing the long scar that ran along the right side of her face. “This world has made me ugly. Inside and out.”

Aubrey moved to the door. “A kind person is never ugly. They may have scars on their face, their teeth too long, or a double chin, but kindness runs deep in your bones and pours through your skin.”

Enos glanced up.

“Before you go, I…” she slid her hand into a small pocket. “I have something for you.”

Aubrey looked puzzled.

“Alzar,” Enos said. “Disconnect us both from the neural net.”

“Aubrey?” Alzar asked, uncertain.

“Do it,” Aubrey said.

“Done.”

Enos’ slid on her aglets, and her fingers danced. “Alzar, I’m sending you a code patch. It will allow you to turn off Aubrey’s archiver.”

“I’ve received the files. Aubrey, would you like me to install them?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Are you… are you certain?” he said to her privately. “It could be malicious software.”

Aubrey met Enos’ gaze, studying her face for a moment. She looked so tired, as if years of lies and cruelty had etched themselves into the core of her being.

“Yes,” she said. “And please disable the archiver.”

Enos smiled, relieved.

“It is done,” Alzar said.

Enos approached Aubrey, and held out a small data-disc. “It’s your genetic prophecy. Your real genetic prophecy.”

Aubrey looked at her, confused.

“There was no error with your first reading. I had to poison you to deceive the Techno-priests during the second reading.“

“You poisoned me?” Anger again rose in her voice.

“It was the only way,” Enos answered quickly. “They would have executed you.”

“Why?”

“Once you listen to it, you’ll understand.”

She pressed the data-disc into her hand. “Make sure your A.I. disconnects you from the neural net when you load the file, and disable your archiver. Never share it, with anyone. Even those you trust.”

Aubrey took the disc.

“Promise me.”

Aubrey nodded. “Alright, I promise.”

She slid the disc into her pocket. “Thanks.”

And with that, she left Enos alone with her thoughts. Aubrey turned the disc over in her hand. A small jack extended from the back.

“Aubrey,” Alzar said. “Are you sure about this?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Not really.”

She pushed her tangled curls out of the way and plugged the disc into her skull node.

“The prophecy is here,” Alzar said. “By the Five, I can see why she wants you to keep it secret. Would you like me to read it to you?”

“Yes, please.”

Alzar began to read, as the text of the prophecy floated in Aubrey’s vision.

A mother gone, a father lost, she wanders

Her breath stolen at the violet hour

The wind sings an unheard chorus of screams

Where are the roots that clutch the branch that burns?

Her path stretches on, beset by vipers

A world filled with resplendent violence

And by the waters of Babylon she weeps

While the human engine churns sinew and bone

A friendship inflamed as their legions battle

A demon born beneath skin entwines within

The serpent’s kiss abates the stygian flood

A broken branch found, bears the fruit of hope

Her wings broke, she falls from the stars wreathed in flame

Bonds forged in hate as iron sharpens iron

Salvation found buried beneath root and stone

The price of deliverance steeped in blood

The machine of war burns bright with thunder

Winged with red lighting and impetuous rage

The fiery surge of death’s finality

Her fear shall be the dark cloak of her shame

Desperation marks growth as she fights for breath

Nine Kings war together near black pits of tar

Her love lost twice, her broken heart sings no songs

From the depths of despair her power rises

Rescued from darkness; a burial in clay

The keys of the kingdom rejected and scorned

An enemy unmasked; betrayal unnamed

To undergo eternal punishment

As she opposed with her ambitious aim

Against the thrones and monarchy of gods

Broken white crown, a crimson power forfeit

An alliance, a peace forged in blood and flame

An end becomes the beginning of all

Children born painlessly numbered as the sands

She, having travailed vast oceans of stars

Shall at last find peace in Abraham’s bosom

She read the text two more times in silence.

“Any idea what it means?” she asked.

“Not a clue, I’m afraid,” Alzar answered.

#

Aubrey entered the barracks. The conversation fell silent, her team suddenly somber, watching her.

“I’m sorry I failed you,” she said. “I’m sorry we lost the final tournament.”

Nube took her by the hand, and led her to a chair in the center of the room.

“We each have something we want to say to you,” she said, as she helped Aubrey sit down.

“When I was a young girl, my father spoke at the funeral of…” she paused for a moment. “Of a great soldier from our Kingdom. He said something that has always stuck with me. He said: valor is another word for strength. Not strength of the arms or legs, but of courage, and the soul. Aubrey, I have never met a person who personifies this ideal better than you. I am honored to call you my commander.”

Ado stood next. “When we first met Aubrey, she was terrified, uncertain of how something as simple as a kyphosis chamber worked.” The other students chuckled. “But quickly, she became our friend.” He turned to her. “We would happily lose again by your side.”

The group laughed as he sat back down.

Oner followed Ado, its round form waddling forward. It paused for a moment, opening its puckered mouth several times, uncertain what to say. “Thanks,” it mumbled, before sitting back down. “Sorry,” it apologized. “That wasn’t very good.”

“I hope to have your courage one day,” Nergal said.

“You helped me find goodness in myself,” Shamesh said.

Paltit went next. “I’m proud to call you my sister.”

“I’d follow you to the very gates of hell,” Jon said.

Eshcol followed. “You’re not so bad, for a squishy.”

Mamre stood next. She hesitated for a moment, the star pattern in her skin twinkling rapidly. “You are the strongest, best person I know.” She paused again. “I love you.” Mamre sat down, glancing around nervously. Aubrey smiled back at her.

James spoke next, his speech slurred and heavy. “All my life, I’ve been treated like a freak. Like I’m less than everyone else. Something to be pitied and coddled.” He glanced bitterly at his twin brother Jon. “But you, Aubrey, you treated me like a soldier. Like an equal. Thank you for that.”

Amur stood last. “It takes a special kind of person to find the good in others.” He looked at Aubrey. “And you treat us as if the good is all you see.” He sat back down as Aubrey wiped the tears from her eyes.

One by one, the soldiers rose back to their feet. Each saluted Aubrey. She watched them, awestruck, studying their faces. Each of these students she had grown to love over the past year stood, arms outstretched, honoring her. Finally she painfully pulled herself to her feet.

“There have always been monsters lurking in the dark places of the world,” she said, wincing in pain as her scar stretched. “But there have also always been the slayers of dragons.”

She stood straight, and returned their salute.

“In the end, the monsters will always fall.”

“To the dragon slayers!” Nube shouted.

“The dragon slayers!” they shouted in unison, before a cheer rippled through them.

The rest of the night was spent in revelry. Jon recounted the battle for the corridors, how Nergal had bravely sprinted to a new covered position, nearly being cut in half by an enemy laser, but preventing their flanking maneuver.

Nube told of Shamesh’s courage as she threw her body over Mardon to shield him from a concussive grenade, risking a shrapnel tear to her Gaberlunzie suit. Aubrey listened in wonder to each of their stories of courage under fire.

As the night waned, and the conversation died down, she pulled Ado aside.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

“We’re fine,” he answered, avoiding her gaze.

“Ado,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He smiled sadly. He flexed his right hand, which trembled violently. “They’re not quite sure what happened to us. It was like an infection. It tore through our veins and nervous system.”

“I’m so sorry,” was all she could think to say.

“It’s not so bad,” he said, smiling his toothy grin. “Better than being dead.”

“Are you going to get better?”

He dropped his shaking hand to his side. “We don’t know. We hope so. With time.”

Aubrey hugged him, held him for a moment. He smiled awkwardly and patted her on the back, his head sack inflating. She released him.

“Ado,” she said. “I don’t know if maybe I was imagining things… I was bleeding pretty heavily. But you had said something about my father before I blacked out.”

He glanced around, his voice lowering to a hushed whisper.

“When we connected to that… thing,” he said. “We could see the thoughts of a trillion Azrael all at once. We could… feel them. Feel their emotions. It was overwhelming. More than we could handle. It nearly burned out our synapsis.”

He licked his lips. “But while we were in there, we caught a glimpse of your father’s face. They have him. He’s alive.”

Aubrey’s heart sang as her knees buckled. Ado grabbed her arm to steady her. Alive! It was more than she could have ever hoped for. Memories flooded her, of sitting on his lap as they watched cartoons together in their tiny apartment. Of him carrying her to bed, her head on his strong shoulder. Images and smells she had clung to over the years in his absence.

“He’s being held at Jericho,” Ado said glumly. “We’re so sorry, Aubrey.”

“Sorry?” she said, positively beaming. “What is there be sorry about? My father’s alive, and now I know where he is.”

Ado nodded his head. “It’s just… Jericho.”

She grinned. “Nothing is ever easy, is it?”

He smiled back. She put her arm around him as they looked out over their teammates. Several continued to tell stories, laughing in amazement, commending each other on their bravery.

“So now what?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” She said, putting her head on his wrinkled shoulder. “My Dad used to always say that the greatest adventure, is tomorrow.”