The cabin was a small, two-room affair—or more accurately, it might be described as a single room split down the middle by a woven curtain. The entire place made Rachel feel as though she needed to duck. It had been built with Cinza in mind, with accommodations for her taller followers, but Rachel was still easily one of the tallest people in Rallsburg.

  Several of Cinza's silver-grey robes hung on hooks near the front door. A few ragged armchairs, apparently recovered from a thrift shop or charity drive, sat near a stone fireplace sharing the wall with the generator. Wires trailed off into the corner where a laptop and a small television sat along with a pile of books. A bookcase laden with various small gemstones and bowls of chalk took up the far wall. Through the curtain, Rachel could barely make out a wide, comfortable bed with thick rumpled covers and another desk, both rather unremarkable, and a smaller bookcase full of unmarked books. The curtain was the only notable thing about the room, but it more than made up for the rest of the underwhelming interior.

  It was a massive, gorgeous design depicting many interconnected stars of varying colors and beams of light, like a breathtaking night sky dotted with intricate designs. Rachel could have spent hours digesting its detail. She noticed that many of the stars held the design of the same one from the book, and that Cinza still wore around her neck. It had to have been made just for them.

  "Ruby's," Cinza commented, noticing Rachel's interest. "She's quite talented at her artwork."

  "This is incredible," Rachel said.

  "She'll be pleased to hear it. She gave that to me for my twenty-third," Cinza said with a warm smile. "It was the best birthday gift I've ever gotten."

  "When was that?" Rachel asked, reaching out a hand to feel it. The fibers were thick and felt strong and durable.

  "December twenty fifth, actually."

  "Christmas day?"

  "Quite. Made for a disappointing childhood, trust me," Cinza said, without bitterness. Rachel turned around to see her stripping off her sweat-laden shirt—with nothing on underneath. "Sorry, I just had to get rid of that before it stunk up the whole room." The scars on her chest were plain as day just below the star necklace, and Rachel knew she was showing them off deliberately. She wanted Rachel to ask.

  Rachel didn't feel like rising to the bait. "I came out here to ask you to—"

  "Rachel, please." Cinza took a seat in one of the armchairs. The shirt floated out of the rear window, presumably to a laundry. "Sit and let's talk a while."

  "We don't really have time for this."

  "Are you afraid your absence will be noted?" Cinza shrugged. "Given your hectic activities since the Emergence, I doubt it will surprise anyone that you can't be reached for a while. In any event, your cell phone will work in our home. We have a repeater set up along with the satellite connection."

  Rachel shook her head. "I should be getting back as soon as I can."

  "You need me, and I need you. We barely know each other," Cinza said, pulling her legs up onto the chair and leaning back comfortably. Her voice slipped out of the floaty echo she had been keeping up until that moment. She still had a vaguely eastern-European accent which Rachel couldn't place, but her voice was no longer magically altered. "Do you know how long it's been since I've actually gotten to talk to someone for real?"

  Rachel had no response for that. She finally reluctantly sat down across from Cinza.

  A flick of the girl's fingers and the fire lit up, as it was still relatively cool out for a morning in May. The burst of heat sent her recoiling for a moment, but it felt good, and she soon felt much more relaxed. The chair was a bit low for her, but it put them at a relatively equal height compared to Cinza's wide, tall armchair. She still felt a bit odd sitting across from the topless Cinza, but the girl seemed totally comfortable and with no intent to dress herself, so Rachel did her best to ignore it.

  "Don't you talk to them?" she asked, tilting her head outside.

  Cinza shook her head, and there was an undercurrent of loneliness in her voice as she spoke. Her voice had lost its affectation, but she had not lost her dramatic flair. "I'm their leader, after all. I didn't intend to be, but the position was forced upon me. So I've never really had the opportunity to speak with any of them as equals. They look to me for guidance, not for vulnerability. I have Ruby, of course, but our relationship is a bit different."

  "That sounds awful."

  "It was, at first. If Ruby hadn't found me, I probably would have gone insane." She looked over at the curtain and smiled again. "I owe her so much."

  "...Who are you, Cinza?"

  She hesitated. "I said I wanted to talk openly, and I meant it. So if you ask again, I'll answer, but I will tell you this now: I abandoned my old identity. Not a soul knows my real name for a hundred miles or more. I created myself anew from nothing, because to include even an inkling of who I had been would be to grant the opportunity for that poison, that venom to slither its way back into my life. That girl died the day I awakened."

  She looked so intense that Rachel couldn't imagine asking her to unveil that portion of her life, no matter how curiosity might tug at her brain otherwise.

  "I won't ask."

  "I will, though. Who are you, Rachel DuValle?"

  "How do you want me to answer that? You could be asking anything."

  Cinza leaned forward, putting her chin on folded hands propped up by the arms of the chair. "I did a bit of digging with Morton's help. He's learned quite a bit as the apprentice to the only journalist in town. How does the daughter of a single mother and struggling actress in B.C. end up in a backwater town like Rallsburg, and become the leader of the new world?"

  "You found my mother?" Rachel asked, surprised. While she wasn't exactly unknown, her mother had never managed anything more than bit parts or character work. Rachel was the only person to ever add her information on internet databases, as far as she could tell. "I didn't think anyone cared enough to search for her."

  "I wanted to know more about you," Cinza replied. "Like I said, you're completely unlike what I'd expected to find when I first arrived. You do remember, don't you?"

  "You tried to overthrow the council. How could I forget?"

  Cinza grinned. "And we'd all be in a far worse place if I had succeeded. I'm glad they taught me a lesson."

  "Would we?"

  "Come on. Don't beat yourself up over current events. This would have happened no matter who lead the council. Omega was a time-bomb waiting to happen."

  Rachel sighed. "It doesn't change what we had to do to keep the peace."

  "You mean the dramatics around your friend Rika?"

  She nodded. "I wouldn't take it back, but I would have done it differently somehow. She had to leave, but it didn't have to be so harsh."

  "What did you do to get her away?"

  "Threatened to get her deported," Rachel said, glancing away to hide her embarrassment.

  Cinza smiled. "You're already taking up the traditions of government."

  "It would have been a big deal. If she'd lit up the system like that, her father might have gotten involved, or worse. She'd lose a lot."

  "But she didn't, and she survived, and now she's back." Cinza said. Rachel looked back, and Cinza was giving her a comforting look. "You've punished yourself enough for that, Rachel. Rika could be brought back into the fold, if we give her a chance."

  "I guess so."

  "Back to my original question, though. What brought you here, of all places?"

  Rachel shrugged. "I saw the school listed as one of the cheapest around that still offered decent degrees, ones that wouldn't be laughed out of job interviews. With my mom's income, I had to take what I could get, and at least it was still in the Northwest."

  "So even before you changed yourself, you had ambition," Cinza noted.

  "So someone told you about me from before?"

  She laughed, not unkindly. "I heard it all, and it doesn't bother me. I trust you as our leader because of your decisions and your judgment, not your memory capacity or your ability to hear people standing a few feet away."

  "You heard about that too?" Rachel said, sinking back into her chair.

  Cinza, mercifully, did not recount the tale. "Your decisions and your judgment have not changed, no matter what magic you may have applied to yourself—and by the way, I'd love to hear about that particular ritual. Every decision you make, the community as a whole comes first. You have sacrificed personal relationships and your own well-being for the sake of us all. Even when you may have personal doubts, you still follow the will of us all, and try to act in our best interest. So I trust you."

  Rachel felt warmth budding through herself at the girl's words. Cinza was older than her, and had a worldliness about her that bespoke many hardships Rachel had never faced. She thought Rachel was doing a good job, and to hear such approval was encouraging.

  "You lead too, though, without anyone to help you," Rachel commented. "How do you make decisions for such a group on your own?"

  Cinza sighed. "It's never easy. Some days, you may have to make the same sorts of decisions. When we come to a crossroads, I ask for advice, I consider it carefully, but they all look to me to actually take the first step down the fork. I choose what I think is best, and I do not look back."

  "What if you're wrong?"

  "Better to be wrong and find out, than to be paralyzed at the decision and never discover what was right," she replied. "I would rather know which was correct for the future. If I have learned anything from my childhood, it is that there will always be another opportunity coming along the path, if only one is ready to reach out and grab it before it passes by.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  "I do wonder though," Cinza continued. "You spend all your time out helping the town. When does Rachel get time?"

  "You should talk to Will," Rachel laughed. "He thinks the same thing."

  "Then he's a smart one. Keep him close. But do you have a hobby? Something you do to relax?"

  Rachel shrugged. "Watch TV, read. I used to write a lot. Mostly journal-type stuff. And I liked drawing. Sometimes I'd write fanfiction," she said, trying not to catch Cinza's eye.

  "You should continue. Even if just to document what's been occurring. A record could be very useful someday."

  "I stopped when I modified my memory. I can't forget anything, so I didn't see a need to commit it to paper."

  "You may not, but the rest of us aren't so fortunate. Since you can remember it all precisely, you should keep a record."

  Rachel considered the idea. It wasn't bad, actually. Having a written record of everything would be invaluable in the future, particularly if she was unavailable to recount events, or her testimony was declared untrustworthy for whatever reason. "I think I might. Thank you."

  "I wrote some fanfiction myself, actually," Cinza added, with a small smile. "It was a passion of mine for a while, when I wasn't writing down my own life in excessive detail."

  "Really?"

  "Really. I… well, I needed anything to escape my circumstances. I had already burned through all the books I had, and I needed to spend more time in the worlds I'd fallen in love with. So I dove in and swallowed up every single piece I could find. When I ran out, I started writing my own. It helped me keep myself centered and sane."

  Rachel frowned, letting her eyes drop to the scars that stood out on Cinza's chest once again. They were many, crossing each other, some deeper than others. "Is that when…" she started, not quite sure if it crossed the line Cinza had laid down.

  Cinza nodded, her tone fading. "I only destroyed my identity, Rachel. My history is written in stone and in blood, not in ink."

  "How did it happen?"

  "A man of conviction." Cinza's eyes narrowed. "One of many substitute parents who decided that the will of his God involved beating a child until she bled from the organs of impurity and corruption."

  "Substitute parents… Do you mean foster homes?"

  She sighed. "Do you know that the term 'foster' implies development and progress? Like to foster learning or to foster a sense of self-worth. I never felt anything like that. I met religious zealots, I met disgusting sloths. I met nervous wrecks who abandoned their parental duties after mere days of responsibility. I was raised by those who would exploit and those who would abuse in equal measure."

  The bitterness in her voice was palpable. Rachel felt as though she could taste it from across the room, such was the strength of Cinza's frustration.

  "Despite all their efforts, though, I survived intact. I found a true family, and a true goddess that none of theirs could measure up to."

  "You've thrived."

  She smiled. "There's a word. 'To grow or develop vigorously'. I definitely haven't grown," she said, glancing down at herself. "Sometimes I wonder if I was stunted somehow. I can never be sure since I've no clue about my birth parents." She shook her head. "It's not important. I'm happy. It took years, but I finally realized that I couldn't be put into a family. Even the best they could offer wouldn't have me. I had to make my own."

  The curtain shifted. Dressed in a simple nightshirt with deep red curls spilling out messily down her back, Ruby emerged from the other half of the cabin. Rachel started. She hadn't realized the girl was there.

  "I'm sorry, Ruby. Did we wake you?" Cinza asked.

  "I just woke up. S'okay," Ruby murmured. "Hi, Rachel."

  She stumbled bleary-eyed over to Cinza's wide armchair and sat down, curling up with the smaller girl and closing her eyes once more. It reminded Rachel of a pet coming to sleep by its owner's side. She felt a bit uncomfortable with the image. Ruby was young, just eighteen if she had to guess, and though obviously infatuated with Cinza, she was also at an easily impressionable age.

  Cinza ran a hand through her crimson hair idly while she turned back to Rachel. "What about your father?"

  "I go out to see him on occasion. He lives in Redmond and works for one of the software companies out there." She was embarrassed to admit she couldn't remember the name of it, as it had been before she'd enacted her ritual and she'd never looked it up since. Something to do when she got home. "He was always around, but he and my mother didn't get along."

  "Ah," Cinza said. "You wish it could have been different."

  "I guess." Rachel shrugged. "I always liked the idea of a full family, all under one roof and spending time together. It's why I spent so much time with Rika, actually. She was like a sister to me all through high school, since we lived next to each other and went to school together. Then she moved back home, and I didn't see her again until after her mom died. We let her stay with us, but it wasn't the same."

  "I can't say I know her very well, but she seems like someone who'd take that very hard."

  "Yeah. She was a bit messed up. I never knew what to do for her after that. I came out here to Rallsburg and she followed me, because she could afford it and she had nothing better to do. She didn't even attend the school. She took odd jobs just to have something to do, but usually ended up quitting before too long." She paused. "Or getting fired."

  "That sounds more accurate."

  Rachel laughed. "Her rants were legendary though. Whether the job was back in Tacoma for a few weeks or something around here, everyone talked about them. We even recorded some of them."

  "But for Rika it was frustrating."

  "Yeah. She didn't have any aim in life. That was when I gave her one of the page copies. I thought awakening her might give her some purpose. I don't think it really did."

  "If I might make a wild guess," Cinza said thoughtfully. Rachel nodded. "I think she decided to just help you with whatever you were doing. If I remember right, during that other coup attempt—not mine," she added hastily. Rachel laughed. "She stepped in and single-handedly stopped the attempt in its tracks, didn't she? Sent them all away with their tails between their legs."

  "She did," Rachel agreed. "She was the only one of us who had practiced magic thinking about combat. If not for that, we'd probably have been pretty badly hurt."

  "Or worse. I think they were out for blood."

  Rachel shuddered. The memory prompted her back to the present, however, and their current pressing concerns. "Cinza, we need to deal with Omega."

  She sighed, putting her arms around Ruby. The red-haired girl snuggled closer, her head pressed into the space between Cinza's lap and the cushions of the armchair. "You're right, we do. You said you had a plan?"

  "His only weapon, if he still can't enter the town, is his golems," Rachel started. "Our greatest disadvantage against them is a lack of information. When we're dealing with fire, or telekinetics, or any other magical attacks, we know how to counter them or interfere with them. We can summon up the opposite element, or deflect and break ties. But none of us can perform Creation magic, or have any idea how such golems function. We need more information."

  "The new Scrap," Cinza said, realization dawning on her face.

  Rachel nodded. "I can't take it, though, or use it effectively. I'm terrible at magic, so reading it myself would be worthless. And if I were to take it to give to another, it would send the entire council into an uproar. We'd be doomed right away from infighting. I think Omega would love nothing more."

  "What are you proposing?"

  "I want you to steal it."

  Ruby looked up, her blue eyes wide. "Steal it?" she murmured.

  "You can give it to whomever you think would best be served by the first reading. From how this played out, it hopefully has something to do with the golems that Omega summons. It's more than likely why he's been attacking us lately, since we discovered it."

  Cinza's eyes were narrow. "But we'll be blamed for the theft."

  Rachel shook her head. "The blame will be placed solely at Omega's feet. We've already told them that he has a servant. A pawn, really. He could have found it and taken it."

  "Right out from under Hector's protection?" she asked skeptically.

  "It's not unheard of. Hector isn't infallible."

  "Why us?" Cinza asked. "I mean, if we are caught, having the blame on a group like us is the best outcome, certainly. But wouldn't you rather it be one of your own magically skilled lieutenants? Both Josh and Will could probably handle magic of that caliber."

  "They might, but neither of them have an effective force at their side." Rachel nodded her head at the door. "I saw your people fight against the golems last time, remember? You didn't back down or run. You were organized. You have the only group here that's ever been in real combat, except maybe Viper. They performed admirably."

  Cinza looked pleased. "Thank you."

  "There are a few things I need from you though, if I'm going to give you the location of the Scrap," Rachel continued. Cinza's eyes narrowed again.

  "What things?"

  "Well, speaking of Viper, I need you to stop stealing his stuff."

  She raised her eyebrows. "How did you know?"

  "A group as well-supplied as you in this wilderness, with your background? Give me more credit than that."

  She laughed. "Fair enough. We've become self-sustaining for the most part. I can leave the mercenary alone."

  "I'll also need you to keep your knowledge of the golem magic absolutely secret from the community. Practice it out here, but don't deploy it unless we actually need it in a fight. We can get away with learning their weaknesses and spreading that knowledge, but if you start summoning golems, there's no way we can cover it up."

  "That seemed obvious."

  "And I need you to meet with the reverend."

  "What?" This was the first request that seemed genuinely confusing to the girl.

  "The reverend, Henry Smith. At the memorial, he told the crowd he intended to meet with you. He could be an important bridge for us. Can you try to open a relationship with him?"

  Cinza's expression was hard. Ruby sat up, her arm around the shorter Cinza. She looked nervous. "I understand your reasoning," Cinza said slowly. "You understand what you're asking me to do, right?"

  Rachel thought back through the conversation they'd just had. "I do. Please. Just let him meet you and try to make it cordial, at least. I don't expect you to become friends with him, but hear him out. He's not at all what I expected. He might surprise you."

  It took a few minutes for Cinza to respond. Her hand was clutching Ruby's, but her face was unreadable. Rachel prayed she would consent. A relationship with the town doctor and reverend would be an invaluable step toward integrating themselves into the community. Cinza was easily the most distant of the awakened to the mundane population. If there were a bridge between the two, Rachel could see so many more forming in the future.

  "Let us keep the Scrap," Cinza replied finally. Rachel was taken aback. She hadn't expected a negotiation. It seemed at odds with the rest of the encounter.

  Cinza's request wasn't totally unreasonable, given the level of risk she'd be undertaking to claim such a valued prize out from under the entire community. However, it would grant her the ability to awaken anyone she chose—could Rachel really trust her with such power and authority?

  Rachel trusted her. Perhaps she'd regret it someday, but this girl, this fellow leader who understood the burdens they all faced better than anyone, was the closest she had to a real peer. If anyone could be given such trust, Cinza was the one.

  The change in Rachel's opinion of the leader of the greycloaks over the last few days was dramatic, to say the least, but it felt right. She felt confident about the choice—and more importantly, she genuinely liked Cinza. Her mannerisms and her tendency to dramatize in public had Rachel rolling her eyes, but this sensitive and caring leader, this fierce and bold protector, was something else entirely. Rachel could see herself aspiring to the same sort of attention to detail and loyalty that Cinza showed amongst her own followers.

  "I won't have any knowledge of it after it vanishes from Hector's care," Rachel replied deliberately. "It could have burned up, for all I know."

  Cinza grinned. "Sounds about right. We can do that."

  Rachel let out a huge sigh of relief. Cinza was on board. They were finally making some progress.

  "I guess I should be going, then," Rachel started, but Cinza shook her head.

  "You still have time, don't you? Stay, please. We don't get many visitors. It's always nice to have new people around." Her voice was softer, and Ruby was looking at Rachel oddly, giving Rachel a mix of discomfort and curiosity. Ruby sat up and whispered something in Cinza's ear with a light giggle.

  "What?" Rachel asked, confused.

  "Ruby thinks you look a bit ridiculous trying to fit into our cabin," Cinza said, smiling.

  Rachel rolled her eyes. "I was cursed with an absurd height. I've learned to live with ducking through every doorway."

  "Still, she thinks you're very pretty, and I don't disagree," Cinza added. Ruby nodded, her eyes glittering.

  "I, uhh… Thank you?" Rachel answered. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. No one had ever told her that, besides Will.

  The heat of the fire was suddenly much more noticeable, and Rachel felt like she might start sweating. The light in the room had shifted from the orange of the fire into an almost pinkish hue.

  A few candles quietly flickered alight as Ruby surreptitiously fluttered her fingers. Rachel's blood felt like it was rushing through her body unnaturally fast. She could feel it pulsing through her limbs and bringing her senses to bear. Rachel was very aware of Cinza's half-nude body and the sweat glistening in the firelight, and of the hungry look in Ruby's glittering blue eyes and beautiful face as they drifted about.

  Even the aroma filling the cabin had shifted. Where Rachel had only smelled pine and the faint scent of smoke, her nostrils now filled with the flavor of scented candles and the aroma wafting across the room from the two women gazing at her.

  Rachel felt like she was on display, and she didn't enjoy it much. Under other circumstances she might have welcomed such lavish attention, but this was all wrong. She decided to put a stop to it before anything happened. "Look, I really should be going."

  Ruby tapped on her companion's shoulder and whispered something else, but Cinza shook her head. "She's not interested, Ruby. That's enough. I'm going to step outside for a minute, all right?"

  Ruby put on a pouting face, trying to be cute, but Cinza ignored her. She stood and pulled on the nearest silver-grey robe, summoning it to herself across the cabin. With a brief nod, she indicated the door—which Rachel made a hasty beeline for, where the bright, mercifully fresh open air awaited.