It didn’t take more than a second for Joey to figure out who she was talking about. She'd even seen Lavernius’s daughter once at a picnic a few months ago. The facial features, her hair, and the accusatory tone. Julia looks like her worst nightmare has come to life, and Drenar is bracing for a whole new level of pure pain, by the look of it. Kelly looks like she’s been crying lately or hasn’t slept, or both, because her eyes are bloodshot and she looks like she could keel over from exhaustion. She darts over to Julia and gives her a tight hug. Julia grunts at the motion of half-healed wounds and tries to return the embrace.
“Julia, we heard about Asqualia, and you look…awful.” Kelly can barely talk, and her mother hovers close by. She looks gaunt. Fragile. Like she is slowly wasting away, her face accented is with sunken eyes, and just…looking tired beyond measure. This woman has been dealt too many blows of bad news, and she doubts she can take this last one. “Julia, what happened down there?”
“Kelly…we fought an army of depraved killers. That's what we were doing yesterday. All night.” Julia looks like she’s on the verge of tears, and all Joey can think of is the sound of that last scream by Lavernius as Val tore him apart. She digs her fingers into her palm tightly, and feels her pulse spike. It’s like reliving this all over again. Julia is likely doing the same, and she subtly moves over to her side.
“Fates. Julia, you look like you did fight an army.” She turns to Joey, looking confused at first, then smiles faintly. “Hey, I think I remember you. You were at the picnic over the summer, right? I don’t remember catching your name.”
What’s worse is knowing she’d seen Lavernius with his family then, in a moment of recollection. She nods softly. “Yeah, I’m Joey, I uh…I knew your father, I saw him from time to time in the archives.”
“Julia…what happened to my husband?” Joey recalls her name as Mirabelle, based on the last words that King and Lavernius exchanged, before the chaos that followed. She’s not going to take this news well at all, and she’s fighting to keep a calm face.
“Kelly, Mirabelle…we might want to take this one someplace private,” Julia starts to say, but Mirabelle slumps, shadows under her eyes. It’s like she knows already.
“My husband and I were in a bad crowd when we were young, Julia. We turned our lives around, but I know for a fact that my husband did terrible things before, even if for a noble cause. Please tell me what happened. I need to know.”
“Ma’am, I don’t think this is a discussion you want to have here–” Levine starts to say, but Mirabelle shakes her head.
“If you’re here, and he’s not, I know he’s dead. I know who he worked with, in the past. But I need to hear the words.” Julia swallows uncomfortably, head held low. All that fighting spirit, all that unbounded courage she’s seen from her is melting in the face of reality, Joey thinks. And she can hear the turmoil going on in her head. Joey takes a measured breath, and reaches out–that string of a connection between them is firmer than before, the connection is almost instant.
Julia, it’s okay. We need to tell her. Even if the truth is awful...Just don’t tell her how he died. Please don’t. I think we can spare her that part for now. There would have been nothing left of his body for anyone to examine post-mortem, not with the teleportal destabilizing at that range. Julia glances her way, only for a second, and winces. She heard her, loud and clear. She’s connected in that way to three people? This is a strange time to make that discovery. Kelly and Mirabelle hold onto each other as if bracing for the news.
“Bernard was working with King. They were trying to acquire records about a device under Talon's control, the same device that triggered our Awakenings. And yours,” Julia says in a slow, monotone voice. It’s all she can do to keep her composure, and not break down in tears. Mirabelle closes her eyes and turns her head away–she knows at least some of the details. “They planned to sneak a small team in, grab the records, and ghost out of there.”
“I can confirm. We cornered him earlier in the day.” Joey speaks calmly, knowing that this is only going to get worse. “A rival faction in the Talons had another inside man, who pursued a less subtle approach. They planned to kill everyone inside, and leave no witnesses. Lavernius helped us delay that approach when he realized what they were up to. He helped buy time. But the Talons found another way in, forcing us into a running battle. Your husband, he…he had an escape plan for the staff. He cared. He cared for the lives of his peers.”
She won’t dare mention his beliefs on the Conclave, or his last bitter words. He’d died believing that neither the Talons in their current form nor the Conclave, should win this coming battle. Mirabelle squeezes Kelly's hand tightly. “Go on.”
Julia takes a deep breath as if dreading what she has to say next. “We had a plan, we were going to rig up a one-time teleportal platform. But to do that, we had to head deep behind enemy lines and get a navigation circuit, and destroy the platform the Talons had been using.” Joey can feel the inching dread in her voice, and she places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She responds by putting her hand on hers, before taking a deep breath, looking weary and out of tears to cry. “We were able to get the circuit board, but… to ensure the Talons couldn’t stop our sabotage of their plans…he stayed behind.”
Mirabelle is already in tears as if she’s known what the outcome would be. Kelly clings to her mother's arm, and Julia forces back a choked sob. She can’t continue, and Joey feels herself mentally wrap around her as if trying to comfort her.
“Lavernius covered our escape. He died defending us, Kelly. He died protecting the staff at Asqualia, and that is how you should remember him.” Why does this lump in her throat hurt so much? Lavernius was both a traitor and a fellow staff member who died in the belief that they could do what he could not, bring justice and order back to the world.
Her? An above-average alchemist, and Julia, a living lightning dragon? Had his hopes been misplaced? She hopes not. Because it does feel like an impossible task. Fighting the whole world–the Talons, and possibly the Conclave. But he died believing in one thing. The Luminaires.
“Kelly, I’m so sorry–” Julia is tear-struck by this point, and can't finish her words.
She breaks away from her mother to give them both a hug, sobbing. “My dad was always a good father, I don’t care what they say about him. You were with him at the end, and that speaks volumes of his last actions.” She sobs into Julia's chest, and she’s fighting back tears while giving her a heartfelt hug, fingers pressed tightly at her back. “I want in. I know you and Drenar and Angie are all going to do something stupid and crazy, and I want in.”
“No, you don’t.” It’s the first words Drenar’s spoken in a few minutes, and he’s wearing a look of fatigue and pain. He’s tight-lipped and shaking his head. “Kelly, we just told you–”
“I don’t care.” The fierceness in her voice gets Joey’s attention. “I want in. You all went on a suicide mission and came out alive. I want to kill the people responsible for his death. I want in.”
“Kelly, no. You don’t want this. You don’t want to see the things we saw, or endure the things we endured.” Even Drenar is choked up, the words tumultuous in his head. He doesn’t know how to say no to her, and desperately doesn’t want to risk anyone else, if he can avoid it.
I sent Lavernius to his death. That’s the thought that keeps going through Drenar’s head, like it’s on repeat, even with Alex trying to help him realize that he couldn’t have predicted what would have happened.
“Kelly, your father didn’t want you–” Joey stops and tries to suck in a much-needed breath, as shudders rack her body. She’s not grieving just for Lavernius when she feels wet streaks on her cheeks. “His last request was to keep you safe. I lost coworkers, including your father last night. I–”
Her composure finally slips, and she can’t keep it up. Talking about this one shouldn’t have affected her, but now all she can think of is Reeves, Saul, Betty, and a few others who had been torn apart by unparalleled violence in her workplace–her home. Drenar gently pulls her away and puts a reassuring arm around her. She doesn’t protest, but instead turns to him, knowing he’s trying his best to keep it together, too. Julia and Kelly are whispering, and Kiera is trying to comfort Mirabelle. All the while, the commotion in the medical center continues.
She wants to tell Kelly it's going to be okay. But it's not. Nothing is going to be okay for a long time.
Even with a desperate victory against that army of killers, they still lost the things that mattered. And they were never coming back.
“Joey, my dad mentioned you a few times. From a while ago. He said you were sharp, and had a lot of potential. I don’t think he was wrong.” Kelly looks up, tear-struck, and trying to hold in the sobs.
“Kelly, we should…what do we–” Her mother falters between words. She’s still taking this in, the utter shock of the moment. Luckily, Julia’s mother is there to try to soften the shock
“Mirabelle, we are currently headed to a secure site, so these young ones have a chance to unpack the past week. You should come with us, because retaliation strikes could come for you and your family. I do not say that lightly, either.” Kiera intervenes and gives a conciliatory tone. “If you need anyone to talk to, anything you need, just ask. We’ll get them here.”
Joey hopes they don’t pry into his death. Because they won’t want to hear that a murderous dragon tore him apart before he was granted the mercy of a swift death when the teleportal destabilized. They should never have to hear that part.
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The ride back to Nick’s house is lengthy. And quiet. Even Drenar has fallen into silence, Joey notes as they eventually pull up. Nick disables the lengthy set of magical defenses by the front door. Levine has to assist him, since Nick’s shoulder is still on the mend–it’ll be another day before his bones are fully set, by her estimate.
After a short amount of preamble, Nick directs everyone downstairs to the training area, where there are a series of temporary living accommodations. It’s sparse, but comfortable when she tests one of the bunk beds. Kyle adamantly refuses to leave her side, and after some small talk, everyone settles in for the night. No one is really in a talking mood, not after this day of consequences. Kiera is also press-lipped and insists everyone able to shift to dragon form safely, should do so and get a good night's rest, primarily because dragons heal faster in their natural form. Kiera is upstairs with Levine and Nick, along with Kelly’s family and a few of the Valkyries. They’re down here, and she just feels…numb.
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Talking about Lavernius, of all people, shouldn’t have caused her to lose it. Did she feel guilty over his death? Or that maybe he had a point? That the Conclave deserves to die for their sneering indifference at best, or creeping oppression at worst? How would the world fare if the kitsune weren’t treated like the lowest caste of the society, seconded to the wargen and the fey?
Everyone loves to poke fun at the fey, born with feathered wings that are dead useless for even a glide, but still attractive, and their pointed, elven-like ears and bird-like eyes. They were the strangest out of the Kin–like someone was trying to make an amalgamate of a human and bird, and just utterly failed in their effort. But they didn’t get the same flak as the wargen, and the threat of infection of the Lyco virus.
She shoves those thoughts aside, and just buries her head at a plain wooden desk set by the wall in the small room, next to the bunk. Kyle looks on, bruised and miserable, and lets out a soft sigh. “Yeah, that’s me, too.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Her voice is muffled because she barely even lifts her head from the hardwood surface that has a deep varnish color, or the faint smell of lacquer that is still notable to her sensitive nose. “I really don’t, Kyle.”
She hears the creak of the metal ladder on his bunk, and she peers up from the desk to see him standing, weary and slack-armed, and struggling with words. “Joey, we’ve just been through a traumatic ordeal. Reeves is dead. Felix. Too many others. The final count was fifteen people who died, according to Zameren. Out of a staff of a hundred and twenty, plus roaming researchers. Ten percent, Joey. That is…apocalyptic. No one in Asqualia didn’t lose a friend.”
“You know who I keep thinking about?” She tenses her fingers on the desk, digging her nails into the wood. “Lavernius. Of all people. I don’t even know why! Not Betty, with the bolt shot through her throat, not Winslow, half his body burned to a crisp. Not Reeves, while he’s holding his guts in and I’m trying desperately to get him patched together. No. I think of Lavernius, and how he might have been right, and that infectious thought is just…too much to bear, Kyle.”
She doesn’t mean to sound accusatory, but her glaring at him probably doesn’t help with his mood, and he clenches his jaw. “You’re not the only one hurting, Joey.”
“I know!” she shouts. “I know Reeves was your friend, and I did everything I could, but there was too much damage to his internals, Kyle. I just delayed his death. I couldn’t save him, just like I couldn’t save Derek, who had a bolt go right through his heart after his barrier failed, or Lavernius, when he stayed behind so that Julia and I could escape. Val tore him in half, Kyle, before he died. I can still hear it. That is all I can think about, and the way he just shot five people in the head like it was as routine as doing dishes.” Even Julia had been shaken to her core at that, and so little could rattle Julia. Kyle looks taken aback, hands up in protest.
“Joey, I'm not saying you didn't try to save him. He had more of a chance than a lot of others. You need to talk to someone, because we are all walking trauma cases right now.” His voice is just shy of breaking, and he rubs at the area where he'd been shot by an autobow bolt. “I'm worried about you, Joey. More than I ever was. What's going to happen when you have to tell the rest of them that you're a Kitsune, or they find out by accident?”
“It already happened. Angela knows. Alex–the dragon in Drenar's head–knows. Nick probably knows, but I'm not surprised, because next to me, he's the other resident magical creatures expert,” she states with a huff. Of course, Nick would know, and his professional silence on the subject matter is telling, along with his demeanor always being composed and friendly. Kyle looks like he is about to freak out, then comes to a dead stop, then smiles.
“Wait, hang on. Angela knows, but how does Alex know?”
“My psionics are…” she hesitates to say it. “They're changing, Kyle. I didn't dare to tinker with them for so long, and now that I am, things are happening that I have zero forward knowledge about. And I'm also tied out psionically to all three of them. And you. I have no idea what will happen next.” She rests her chin on the desk, all the fatigue of the day catching up to her. He slowly circles past the desk and puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“Joey, you really should talk to someone. Please, even if it's just me?” It's strange, hearing Kyle talk so slowly. Normally he had a rapid-fire pace, as if he couldn't get the words out at the speed he wanted. Now, though…he's putting a lot of thought into them. “I know the past few days have been the worst of our lives. But, we pulled a victory from the jaws of defeat. No one should have made it out. Even I know that, now.” She tilts her head, unwilling to counter his statement, and he grabs a folding chair and slides it closer to her. And then he waits.
“Nothing's going to be the same.” They'd spent more than a few seconds glancing at each other, and she finally broke that silence. “The Talons, the Conclave…the whole calculus of our lives has changed in ways I can't predict. Why are we alive, and so many others aren't?”
“Bad luck, good luck, training, sticking it to those foes before they could do the same?” He tries to rationalize it and taps a finger for emphasis. “Fate?”
She raises an eyebrow at the lunacy of the suggestion. “Fate doesn't exist, Kyle. ‘Fate’ was a stupid viral video that one idiot mage got onto YouTube that slipped through every level of Veil Protocol. Three billion views later, it entered the Internet zeitgeist.” No one had of course bought into it, that magic was real and that their lives were controlled by omniscient, mysterious overlords that were implied rather than observed or inferred, like the Kinsgard. That had been a colossal screw-up, and how that follower of Gaia got that far, still amazed her. Kyle slowly wags his head and smiles faintly. “What?”
“I think you do believe. Ever since Luminari awakened. Ever since it started calling to you. It chose you for something.”
She slumps back down on the chair, and draws a deep breath. “Fate. Doesn't. Exist.”
“Why? Because you're an arcanist slash scientist who thinks there's a rational and logical answer to everything? Maybe there isn’t. Or maybe the answer is so simple that you don’t consider it: the blade called out to you first. You know who gave it to you?”
“Kyle, I–”
“It was Drenar’s mom, wasn’t it?” Now his voice cracks under pressure, and she can see the glimmer of sadness etched in his puppy dog eyes. “You’re not the only one that can make connections, Joey. She looked just like him when I think about it. It’s why it called out to him as well. The champion of the Valkyries chose you to guard the sword. She chose you for a task so impossible, that I don't know if anyone else could have pulled it off.”
“All I did was hand the sword to–”
“The Champion of the Valkyries chose you.” He sits there, looking stern. “And I know why. She needed someone she could trust. Someone who stood for everything that all Kin stand for. Someone who has seen the world for what it is, and what we desperately need to fix. You're Amaranth's prodigy. You were top of your class, you could have gone anywhere! But you chose here. Why? And don’t say it was just because of me, either.”
“Because I…” she falters. Was Asqualia that special to her? Why had she chosen to come out here?
Because I viewed it as a home. Not just a job. When Zameren had given her the tour, she instantly fell in love with the academic setup, just like another university campus. Her prior experience has been…a little tense, hiding her Kitsune form. Here, no one cared. Two of the staff were Wargen, three were fey, and several people she suspected were hiding their ancestry also lived here, but no one ever said anything. The fact that they had custom-tailored accommodations, even for dragons and all other Kin, and Zameren's warmth in his introduction, sold her on the place.
Kyle nods after a minute, even though she's been silently propping her chin with her hands, and thinking about it. He smiles faintly. “Don't stew on it too long, Joey. And talk to Drenar, please. You guys are…there's something between you that I don't think you realize is rare.”
“I’m not into him!” It’s the worst deflection she’s ever made in her life.
“You are into him.”
“He’s younger than me!” Oh great, there goes that argument again, Kyle does have a good read on her. “You know, we have other things to worry about, other than who I would have any kind of feelings about.”
“I was legit worried you were asexual for a while.” She narrows her eyes at him.
“You know that isn’t true, and you have proof of that.” He coughs awkwardly at that subtle reminder. She smiles slyly. “What’s wrong, Kyle, fox got your tongue?”
“Okay, now you’re leaning it into too much. I know you’ve got feelings for him. And maybe, you should take that as your cue to have someone in some small corner of your life that you can open up to, and just…unpack some things, Joey. Please?”
She relents for once. “Okay, fine! But I need to get to know him first. What if he’s into fetishes? Or music I hate, or his only current hobbies are monster slaying and being a badass? Or…maybe he has a thing for fur? I mean, that would make it…a little weird.”
Kyle raises an eyebrow at her statement. “You realize the irony of that statement, considering we currently have wargen, kitsune, Kass’lan, and others populating the world, yes? Oh, and dragons and fey.”
“Not hearing a denial of my point, Bertance.” Even though she hates the subject, it's a welcome reprieve from talking about who they lost, or when they might consider bringing in someone specialized in post-traumatic disorders to walk them through this, or the staggering damage to the facility. She shoves all of those away, for just one moment of sanctuary. “Seriously, what if he hates Japanese food? We could never be friends ever, if that were the case.”
“You two are on a mad quest to find his mother. The current reigning Champion of the Valkyries, who has been missing in action for almost six years. Pretty sure he'll adapt,” he counters with a chuckle. "Look, he seems alright. I think Julia or Angela would have brought something up if he was totally messed up in the head."
Why am I resisting this? Because I'm afraid of dumping my damages on his lap? That caustic thought is burning worse than any compound she could synthesize, and she tries to keep a calm face. But Kyle's had too long to pick up on her tells. “Look. I misjudged him. I thought he was an idiot out of his depth. The reality is, Drenar is a kid thrust into an impossibly large role, and he's doing his damn best to keep it together. Just like you.”
“Alright, I'll give it a try. But Kyle? Saving the world comes first. Val has to be stopped. And the Conclave has a lot to answer for, too, at a minimum.” He beams at this statement–is this because he's trying desperately to mask his inner turmoil from the past few days, or because he wants to see her come out of the shell she's been hiding in for so long?
Looking inward, she realizes Kyle has been her best friend for a long, long time…and she'd pushed him away, even though he was looking out for her, trying to help her tear down the barriers of being born as someone who the world viewed as a second class Kin. She won't make that mistake again. “One condition, though. Promise me you won't give him a hard time if things go…a certain way?”
“From what I've seen from him so far, I very much doubt I ever will have to. Let's get some rest, yeah?” The tension melting through her body also means she notices the creeping fatigue. Healing after such a rough few days is not easy. Even with regen potions. She stares at the bunk bed above her for a while, before she eventually drifts off to much needed rest.
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