Chapter Text
Water does not break when Sua is born.
Perhaps it’s because she was born with an genetic code that was already chosen for her before she was brought into the world – predetermined, so to speak. Twin amethyst eyes do not blink open to harsh lights and the elusive gloved hands of human doctors as ordinary babies do.
Or rather, had.
Amethyst eyes gradually part open. Instead, they fixate upon two bulbous bug-like eyes peering at her with fascination. The sort of predatory intrigue in which one might examine an exotic animal caged in a zoo, dissecting it with a cruel ruby red gaze to see what truly was so unique about it.
She is not born within a hospital in a mother’s arms, nor with the gaze of approval from a father or the crying of relatives in the background.
She can only float in the cold, small pod she is confined within. Sets of tubes and lines affix to her pale skin, having pumped in the chosen genes and characteristics of who she was soon to become.
The glinting rubies have a barbarous delight to their gaze, sharp and inhuman. A singular claw rests against the surface of her pod – the only obstructing barrier between them. Antennas swish back and forth as a ghastly gape curves beneath a set of honed mandibles.
The claw taps against the pod as the creature smiles, the stretch of its jaw too wide for comfort and the intent in those gleaming eyes vile.
Its voice is uncomfortably smooth and frictionless, like oil pooling across a slick surface.
“I’ll buy these ones.”
Sua is purchased in a family sale from this human editing shop by the ruby-eyed segyein who Sua learns she will call Mother.
To the public, Mother is renowned as a successful industrialist who is dedicated to her career of designing wear for pet humans. She owns many female pet humans, all of which are always immaculately-dressed to reflect her wealth and genius.
Sua, being an investment – to say she is raised by Mother is a stretch – amongst many of the other pet humans, begs to differ.
But perhaps that’s because Sua falls short in comparison to the other pet humans in terms of assisting Mother to promote her industry.
Growing up under Mother’s strict rules, Sua is forced to learn quite a few things early in her life that other pet humans usually don’t have the burden of carrying. Discipline is beaten into Sua’s mindset as she carries on with her daily schedule.
Wake up, dress up, take photoshoots for Mother’s designs, eat the specialized gruel that fills Sua with enough nutrients to survive but not for her belly to be full, go to sleep.
There is no room for error in these seemingly simple objectives.
Error is not tolerated within these simple objectives when it comes to Mother.
Even if it's her first photoshoot.
“Sua.” Mother’s smooth voice edges the territory of danger, the distant sort of frequency to her tone that Sua nor the other pet humans have when they speak.
Sua feels a shiver run down her spine, her small five year-old hands digging uncomfortably at the itchy ruffles in the flowy dress Mother picked out for her. Her pale skin is sensitive, especially to kinds of materials like the ruffles.
“Smile.”
Sua casts her amethyst eyes down at her dress, biting her protruding lip as camera flashes click in front of her. Many of the other pet humans stand obediently by Mother’s side as the segyein takes photos of them.
“It’s itchy.” Sua mumbles quietly, fingers tugging at the ruffles around her sleeves.
Mother’s claws tighten around the emerald leash that wraps around Sua’s neck beneath the hood of the dress. Sua flinches as her air circulation is cut off when Mother pulls harshly, choking her.
Sua feels Mother’s presence dip down beside her, the buzzing sensation in the air that draws a sharp tremor through her body. She gulps, amethyst eyes straying downwards defiantly. The hooked tip of a claw touches the end of her chin in such a way that could be mistaken for affection.
But Sua is not a child for Mother to coddle or care for properly – she is an investment.
Investments should behave as they were bought to have done.
Every bone in Sua’s trembling body freezes when she comes face-to-face with Mother’s insectoid expression. The crimson rubies are muted, regarding her cruelly with a vicious glint in them that meant no good for Sua.
Goosebumps rise across Sua’s skin.
“Sua.” There’s a sickeningly sweet tone to Mother’s voice.
“You do not get to complain.”
The next rule after the zero toleration of errors, are no complaints.
“You do not get to whine – you comply with what I tell you to do, is that so hard for a pet human like you?”
Sua does not shake or nod her head, frozen.
“Comply.” Mother’s voice is sharp and dark, leaving no room for argument. “The only reason I keep you despite your shortcomings is because of your kin.”
At the reminder of her sister, Sua complies.
Her smile is forced and not as pretty as the other girls and Sua does not receive any of the gruel that night. She is locked in her pod next to the ones of all the other pet humans and floats in the darkness, belly rumbling while all the others eat outside.
She gets rashes from the ruffles but she doesn’t complain.
Because in the middle of the night, her pod hisses open with a slide. Her bleary amethyst eyes blink open tiredly and her skin jumps at the sensation of something touching her. She is reminded of Mother’s touch hours earlier, scraping and painful against her skin.
They are so much softer than Mother’s harsh scrape of her claws, gentler.
She clamps her mouth shut when she meets a pair of familiar and warm eyes in the darkness while all the other girls are fast asleep in their pods. Sua reaches out her small hands towards those eyes – with a singular heterochromatic darker pupil in comparison to that familiar amethyst blend in the other.
Her sister’s hands are large and sure when they grasp around her tiny hips, hefting her up with little to no effort. Sua immediately wraps her arms around her sister, burying her face against her chest and latching onto her like a koala clinging to its mother.
“Sua.” Sua can feel Syla’s voice from her face pressing against her chest, hearing her firm and solid heartbeat go thud-thud-thud against her ear.
There’s a reason why Mother keeps Sua around and that’s because of Syla. To Mother, Syla is her star pet human. With dark luscious locks of hair falling past her slender shoulders and framing her prettily pale complexion, no one could ever look away from a catch like Syla.
Syla’s beauty is plain even while adorning Mother’s worst designs.
“Sylaaa.” Sua mumbles against her sister’s comforting and solid embrace, pressing her face tightly against her.
Syla only chuckles, indulging her for a minute or so before setting her down. Sua visibly pouts but her frown fades instantly when Syla rifles in the pockets of her ruffled dress for a moment before handing a small pot to Sua.
Even though its aroma is not the most enticing, Sua’s mouth practically waters as Syla unscrews the lid of the pot, filled with gruel. Being favoured over most of the other girls, the quality of Syla’s gruel is much better than theirs.
While theirs taste of rough grain, hers is honeyed and soft porridge.
But in saying that, her portions are considerably smaller to maintain her slender and lithe figure despite how she even goes nights with her stomach growling.
So when Syla hands over the pot filled with more than half her portion of gruel for the day to her younger sister, Sua doesn’t think too much of it. She is only five after all and her stomach has been growling nonstop for the past hour or so.
As Sua munches down on the gruel, she looks up at her sister’s face curiously. She holds out the pot out to her as an invitation.
Syla only smiles, the same one that wins over all the sponsors and gets Mother her customers. Her curve of her lips is graceful, as everything about her is. She sets a gentle hand into Sua’s shorter locks of raven hair, ruffling it affectionately.
“Don’t worry about me, little star.” Syla hums, brows creasing. “I’m more worried about you.”
Little star.
It’s always been a staple part of their relationship as sisters, the fond nickname Syla calls her for her love of watching stars when she gets the chance. Sua can’t quite remember the first time she saw the stars because she was too young.
But Syla told her that when she looked at them, her eyes had lit up like the stars. And still now, when Sua gets a chance to see them – she feels so excited.
“Me?” Sua shifts her head back to look up at her older sister, gruel smeared across her lips messily.
Syla sighs. She crouches down to meet Sua’s height, darker and older eyes watching her with a serious undertone. Her dark hair cascades down to almost meet her waist. The older the girls are, the more long they’re allowed to keep their hair – as per Mother’s rules and standards.
Another thing to keep them reminded of how much control Mother holds over their heads as their owner.
“Stop getting in trouble, okay?” Syla tucks a loose strand of hair behind Sua’s ear, smiling warmly.
“But it's itchy.” Sua mumbles under her breath, the uncomfortably itching and warm sensation underneath her paper-thin tunic lingering.
Syla frowns.
“Show me.”
Sua lifts up the edge of her tunic, biting her lip. Syla’s face falls at the sight of the angry-red hives spread across her younger sister’s stomach, all up to her arms that she hadn’t noticed before. Why hadn’t she noticed it before?
“Will I die?” Sua asks fretfully, bottom lip quivering. “It’s itchy.”
“No, you won’t.” Syla shakes her head with that same firm tone that immediately calms Sua’s worries. “Stay here for me, unnie will be back in a moment.”
Sua stays there. She sits still as she watches her older sister exit the room full of the pods of sleeping girls. Sua doesn’t move an inch from where she’s standing because she trusts her sister and will do anything Syla tells her to.
Simply put, Sua adores her sister.
From the moment Sua has gained the consciousness of living, Syla has always been there for her. As her older sister, Syla has protected her from Mother’s wrath and kept her safe from things she shouldn’t know.
She’s fed Sua and taken care of her where Mother hasn’t and where the other girls had to go through it all by themselves.
She proves it again when Syla comes back with a wet cloth in her hands and a small bucket in the other. The bucket is filled to the brim with ice cubes and water. Syla sets the bucket down and crouches yet again by Sua’s side, concern creasing her brow.
“Lift up your shirt, little star.”
Sua obliges and doesn’t question her sister.
Because it’s her sister.
Sua sighs in relief when her sister presses the ice-cold cloth against her stomach, chilling the heated skin and insatiable itch. The cold water trickles down her belly but she doesn’t mind. Syla repeats the action across the rashes on her arms and legs where the ruffles have irritated her skin.
Sua’s amethyst eyes sparkle when she looks at her sister, concentrating and face all kind and caring.
She doesn’t know how to describe the full and affectionate feeling in her chest then but she decides that she likes it. Sua hums when the itching sensations are alleviated for the time being and she lets her tunic back down, grinning lopsidedly at her sister.
Syla’s face is dark now, her brows turned inwards as she chews her lips. Sua recognizes this expression on her – she wears it quite often after some of the girls Sua’s age don’t return to their pods at night or when she sees Sua looking especially tired.
“Little star, can you promise unnie something?” Syla says slowly, her intelligent darker eyes gazing upwards into Sua’s brighter eyes.
“Anything!” Sua immediately replies excitedly.
“Listen to Mother, okay?” Syla’s eyes have that same firm look to them like Mother’s ruby eyes when she’s telling her to do something or else there would be consequences – except for the fact that there’s something else in Syla’s eyes that she’s never seen before.
It quivers, dilating in her heterochromatic eyes like leaves in the wind. If Sua didn’t know any better she would think that emotion in her eyes draws perilously close to fear. But her sister isn’t afraid of anything in the world. She chases away Sua’s monsters at night and protects her from everything.
“Why?” Sua questions, fiddling with the hem of her tunic.
Syla’s long fingers capture Sua’s smaller ones in their tight but gentle grasp, pausing her from her fidgeting. Sua looks up at her sister curiously, chest tightening at the sight of that same look in her sister’s eyes.
She doesn’t quite like that look.
“Because if you do what Mother tells you to, you will be safe.” Syla answers, her fingers tightening around Sua’s.
Safe.
“Safe?” Sua echoes her sister’s words with a frown.
“It means unnie won’t need to worry so much about you anymore.”
Sua’s amethyst eyes look up at Syla. Syla, her sister, with her bright and charming smiles in front of the camera and obedience with Mother. But underneath all those pretty dresses, her face is gaunt and she is but skin and bones.
The last thing Sua wants to do is put more burden on her.
“Promise me, little star?” Syla’s voice turns so quiet, pleading.
“I promise!” Sua replies without any further hesitation.
Syla offers her pinky to Sua, who only stares curiously at her finger with a quizzical tilt of her head.
“Back on the humans’ home planet, this is what they do when they promise each other things.” Syla whispers to Sua with a secretive smile growing on her lips.
Sua sticks out her own pinky and Syla hooks it with her own, locking the promise.
“Now, you’re bound to it.” Syla’s voice gains a lighter, more relaxed tone as the tension in her body dissipates. “If you break it, unnie will be very angry.”
“I won’t break it.” Sua declares loudly and Syla hushes her with a giggle as to not disturb all the sleeping girls in their pods.
“Good girl.”
Syla smiles, ruffling Sua’s dark hair again as Sua giggles. Sua doesn’t let go of Syla’s pinky, instead holding her hand with her own little fingers entirely.
“Can we go look at the stars?”
“Of course, little star. But we’ll have to be quiet, okay?”
“Yes, unnie!”
When they watch the stars, Sua’s eyes are pools of sparkling amethyst. Her small palms press against the glass in the corner of the room full of pods, lips parted in awe. The stars are conspiciously bright and beautiful, even from miles away.
“The sanctars say that star is where the Great Anakt lives.” Syla says with a smile, pointing at one of the stars.
Syla combs her fingers through Sua’s raven locks as Sua points out the rest of the stars and the shapes some of them, humming a small tune. She smiles. Sua pauses for a moment, listening to the sweet melody of her sister’s voice.
When Syla falls silent, Sua picks up the melody – short and sweet, like a songbird.
“You have a pretty voice, little star.” Syla smiles.
Sua giggles. “Really?”
“But don’t ever let Mother catch you singing in front of her, okay?”
❋❋❋
Syla has always been an important part of Sua’s life, from the moment they were taken from that human editing shop. Syla protected her from things that harmed her and her innocence, ensuring nothing could ever hurt her.
But she was an important part of so many other girls’ lives underneath Mother’s ownership.
Sua watched as girls cried, clutching their sore limbs or reddened skin from Mother’s wrath. They sniffle in their pods at night, hugging themselves because no one else would. No one else but Syla.
Syla bandages their wounds for them, puts cooling cloths on their heated skin and hugs them tight. At times, Sua will get a little jealous but then Syla will always come back to her, remind her that Syla will always be Sua’s sister first and foremost.
Syla has a dream, simply put.
She wants to create a world for these girls and Sua where they don’t have to suffer through these kinds of things. Obviously, as a pet-human, these kinds of things are really out of her control and power.
But she wants to lessen their pain. Syla is the only one who hasn’t faced Mother’s wrath or been forced underneath a leash or collar. Freedom. She wants the rest of them to have this treatment and live as humanely as possible, even in this environment.
Ironic, isn’t it?
Syla whispers her dreams into Sua’s small ears at night, hugging her tightly. She wants to change things.
She will change things.
But for now, Syla tells all of them to listen to Mother. She tells them to follow her instructions and to not rebel. Escape trouble, bow their heads and submit.
Do not fight back, it is futile. I want you all to be safe.
So when Syla comes back with a bandage wrapped around her left eye, stark with dark blood – alarms are set off inside Sua’s five year-old brain.
Syla doesn’t stop to visit by Sua’s pod, nor any of the other girls’ as she usually does. She goes straight to the glass window by the corner of the room and stands there, scarily still and silent. A couple of the other girls exchange worried looks with Sua, who bites her fingernails.
Sua approaches her sister tentatively from behind.
“Syla?”
Her sister is still and silent. Wordless.
Sua pokes at her still hand hesitantly. “Syla–”
Syla whips around instantly, speed akin to that of a bursting comet. Her singular uninjured eye, the darker heterochromatic one is uncanny and it twitches. Her jaw is set firmly and there’s this twisted vacancy to her usual warm expression that makes goosebumps rise on Sua’s skin.
For a moment there, her sister almost looks–
“Sua.”
The expression is gone. Her sister smiles warmly, a striking contrast to the blood staining her covered amethyst eye. She crouches down to Sua’s height, grinning at her like nothing just happened.
Sua finds her words.
“What are you doing here, little star?” Syla tilts her head, as if confused.
“This is… our room.” Sua answers slowly, frowning. “Syla?”
There’s that blank look in her eyes again, the one that strikes fear up Sua’s tiny body.
Syla shakes her head, disoriented. “It is?”
She scratches her head, glancing around for a moment. Then, Syla laughs. While her laugh would’ve normally brought a sense of peace to Sua – now it just feels wrong in the moment and she doesn’t understand why.
“I suppose I just forgot.”
Sua stares at her sister, tooth pressing down on her lip anxiously.
Ever since her sister began picking up more roles to contribute to within Mother’s industry, she’s been acting… weird. The other girls have been whispering it to each other too at night. Sua doesn’t know the manner of these roles but she thinks its in relation to modelling in a partnership with different pet human customizations.
She thinks one of the girls mentioned it.
Temporary feature customization – whatever that means.
It’s meant to make the wearer look even prettier and customized to the owner’s needs if they hadn’t picked their wanted appearance when they were purchased at the human editing shop.
Syla is prettiest out of all of them so Sua didn’t really get why she needed to do it. But each time she comes back, Syla is exhausted. Sometimes, she looks different too. These side effects usually last for a few hours but ever since a few weeks ago when Syla had been getting more busy, Sua wonders if they are really temporary.
When Syla starts acting different, it scares the rest of the girls. She’s angrier, more snappish and prone to her temper – which is not all like the kind and comforting sister Sua knows. But this time, she’s not angry. She’s got that horrible vacancy in her eyes which Sua is personally more afraid of than angry Syla. She sits there, staring out the window.
Sua is the only one brave enough to approach her.
It’s her sister, after all.
It’s just Syla.
“What’s wrong with your eye?” Sua points at her eye, frowning.
“My eye?”
Syla raises a hand to touch the bloodied bandage before blinking twice as if just realising it was there.
“Oh.” Syla says, eye unfocussed.
“Mother.”
“Mother hit you?” Sua whispers, eyes wide with shock.
Syla? Hit by Mother?
The girls behind Sua go silent. Syla only nods, as if this was merely a daily happening.
“Why?”
“I… I don’t really remember, little star.” Syla scratches her head, brows creasing.
“I haven’t been able to remember much lately at all, Sua.”
Sua doesn’t say anything else. She presses up onto her toes and hugs her big sister.
It starts happening more often. Syla forgets things. She starts acting and looking different. When she takes off the bandage, her amethyst eye has turned pale – like a ghost. Syla wears the collar and leash when they go out in public and she receives the same meals as the rest of the girls.
Sua begins noticing a pattern in all her moods.
Her sister will come back from those sessions with a warped face and red markings of a claw etched along her thighs. Her eyes are upturned and uncannily-seductive and her lips are plumper. They look so wrong on Sua’s big sister, her soft and warm sister.
The customizations’ side-effects eventually begin reverting.
But what doesn’t revert is Syla herself.
At the beginning, nobody but Sua goes to bother her. Syla snaps at Sua, Sua sits there and hugs her leg until she calms down. Then, there’s the next phase of the patterns that Sua noticed.
The one where Syla sits at the window but she doesn’t fume. She just sits and stares. It’s horrible and worrying when no one has any idea what’s wrong with Syla. Whenever Sua asks, Syla gives her one-worded responses and smiles hollowly at her.
It’s horrible.
Sua hates it more than anything, to see the sparkle in her sister’s bright eyes gone. The scar on her eye from that night hasn’t yet to fade and it serves as a reminder of what had happened – of how Mother would even hurt her star models.
Tonight, like many others before, they don’t sleep in the pods.
They sit together by the window, watching the stars with Syla’s fingers woven in Sua’s soft hair until they’ll eventually fall asleep. Sua leans against her warm sister, letting her eyes flutter shut momentarily.
Today her sister’s moodswings weren’t so bad. She was a little snappish when she came back but other than that, Syla was fine. But Sua has seen this too many times to think that everything was okay with Syla because when she went back to work with Mother and their partnership the next day, she would come back different.
But it doesn’t mean Sua doesn’t appreciate these moments where her sister is lucid and happy.
Syla’s nose still looks a bit different but it’s okay. She’s still Sua’s sister.
“You should take care of your hair better, little star.” Syla remarks quietly, fingers catching onto a knotted tangle in Sua’s hair.
Sua only sticks her tongue out at Syla, who only giggles. “So immature, hmm? Does Sua need to be punished?”
Syla’s other hand glides down near Sua’s stomach and the feathery fingertips begin brushing against her sensitive skin. Sua starts giggling hysterically, pressing closer into her sister as she tickles her with no mercy.
Today surely is different, though – Sua feels it. Syla is lucid and happy enough to joke around with Sua, which is uncommon these days because she’s often too exhausted or angry to do anything at all.
And yesterday, she was like this too.
Maybe.
Sua can only hope.
She doesn’t want to ever lose her big sister.
They spend the next few minutes merely staring out into the dark void that is space.
The stars.
They look especially beautiful today.
They’re small but just as bright as comets, burning brightly like guardian angels – twinkling as they watch over Sua and Syla. They shine like hope in the darkness, bright and everlasting.
Sua’s eyes sparkle like the stars before her.
“That’s the Great Anakt, isn’t it?” Sua says, locating the brightest star.
“Is it?” Syla asks, detangling Sua’s knots with her lithe fingers.
I haven’t been able to remember much lately.
It’s okay. As her younger sister, Sua will remind her.
“It’s the brightest star in the sky..” Sua grins lopsidedly, glancing back to her sister.
“Is that so?”
“Mm!”
They fall into comfortable silence once again and Sua is just content to fall asleep in her sister’s arms like this. If she prays enough to the Great Anakt, maybe they will protect her sister from whatever is hurting her this much whenever she works with Mother’s partners.
As she always does when it’s too quiet, Sua lets her throat fall open to sing that sweet melody her sister taught her before. She doesn’t think it had words but it’s simple, short and pretty. She likes it – maybe that’s why it’s stuck to her head for so long.
“You’ve got a pretty voice, little star.” Syla says brightly.
Sua doesn’t tell her that Syla’s told her that before. Or that she’s told her that multiple times when Sua sings to her sister before they fall asleep together like this.
“Really?” Sua grins at her big sister.
“But don’t let Mother catch you singing in front of her, okay?”
“I’ll try.”
But instead of her usual next reply, Syla’s eyes turn unfocussed and distant. “You make unnie worry whenever you sing with that pretty little voice of yours.”
“Worried that our little immature Sua could die in that hellish place.”
There’s a different tone to Syla’s voice now, cold and serious in a way that makes Sua stiffen instantly – her amethyst eyes widening.
“Die…?” she whispers, voice breaking. “Die where?”
“The partners’ pet humans tell me. They say that corpses fall from the sky in that place.” Syla continues, unperturbed by the trepidation clear in Sua’s dilated eyes. “When an frail girl like Sua dies, they burn those kids in a hot, hot fire.”
“And then they open the sky lid to sprinkle them over the living kids.”
“Like snow.”
Syla turns to her then fully, a dark and deranged shine in her slack eyes. Her smile isn’t so warm or fond anymore, but rather unsettling and unhinged – her face distorted with her own features and someone else’s.
“You’re already so stupid.” Syla’s words cut like a blade through water, sharp and jarring to Sua – whose sister has never spoken to her in this way. “What if you just die in that place like the rest of them?”
Sua’s jaw is frozen.
Die?
“W – what are you talking about, unnie?” Sua whispers, unsettled. “Where?”
“Where all songbirds go when they get finally get caught.” Syla turns to her, expression haunted and words deliriously-slurred. “They get caged for a long time before they get to sing for the audience.”
“I…”
Sua, at five years old, is at a loss of words.
Surely, Syla has acted different and looked different but she has never began talking differently like this.
Her expression teeters on the brink of what Sua would think to be of delirium.
“I think we should go to sleep now, unnie.”
“I think so too, little star.”
❋❋❋
Sua is six years old when Syla doesn’t come back one night. There is an accident in the workplace where she and Mother work alongside Mother’s new collaborative partners for temporary human feature customization. Sua waits hours for her big sister to come back, tap on her pod and watch the stars with her.
Syla does not come back.
When Sua gathers the courage to dare to ask Mother, she is given a singular and deadpan response.
“She is dead.” said simply as if talking about the weather.
There is no explanation as to how Sua’s big sister is killed.
Syla is dead.
Syla does not succeed in creating a world where Sua doesn’t get to suffer, because it means that she will too. She does not succeed in changing things and she never will, because Syla dies at the age of fourteen – the most common lifespan of a pet human working in industries like modelling.
Sua grieves. She hugs herself in her pod and cries herself to sleep every night. Sua stops eating the gruel they feed her and she stops listening to Mother because she simply can’t. Her brain shuts down and everything shuts down because Syla is dead.
Sua’s sister is dead. How does she live a world without her older sister?
The girls don’t understand.
How could they?
Mother doesn’t either.
Sua is six when she is hit for the first time, without her sister’s protection against Mother’s wrath. She clutches a hand to her stomach, the ruffled fabric having torn through from the sharp edge of Mother’s unforgiving claw.
Blood stains the pale white fabric as Sua cries.
“Insolent trench,” Mother hisses, ruby-red eyes glowing with ferocity. “The only good thing about you was your sister. I have no reason to keep you.”
Sua does not beg to be spared. She does not beg to be kept. She wants her sister.
Mother keeps her.
Sua sleeps with dark red blood staining her tunic and rashes all over her skin, tearstains streaked beneath her heavy amethyst eyes.
In the daytime, Sua is unresponsive.
Because her sister is dead.
She barely gets past their ordinary schedule, performs the worst out of all the other girls and looks pretty horrible most of the time too. The dark eyebags don’t do any good for her appearance to be used as a model.
Every night, Sua sleeps with puffy eyes and red marks on her skin.
I have no reason to keep you.
Sua has no reason to be alive.
Her sister is dead. Gone.
“Get up.” one of the girls force the doors of her pod open, voice harsh. “Mother wants us to go to the shrine.”
“I don’t want to.” Sua turns in her uncomfortable position, burying her face into the itchy sheets.
“For Great Anakt’s sake, Get up.” the girl repeats, voice filled with disdain. “Syla’s been dead for months, get over it before Mother hits another one of us for your mistakes.”
They get hit for Sua’s mistakes.
“I’m sorry.” Sua whimpers, her throat tightening. “I didn’t mean to–”
“I don’t care if you’re sorry. I don’t care if you’re sad, I don’t care if you’re grieving over your dead sister – I don’t fucking care!”
The girl’s words echo through the silence of the room filled with pods, reverbrating thrice inside Sua’s mind. When she turns to look at the girl standing before her, Sua’s entire body freezes up.
A fresh gash runs across the skin of her neck downwards beneath her ruffle dress, poorly-hidden but very familiar to Sua ever since her sister’s death. Her eyes are hard and dark, unlike the warm purple of Syla’s kind gaze.
Did Mother hit her for Sua’s–
“Just get up.” the girl says sharply, eyes narrowing. “Or don’t. Personally, I don’t care what happens to you when Mother comes in to fetch you herself.”
Sua gets up.
She receives a deep gouge on her back, hidden by her dress, for her ‘death-like’ appearance and staining Mother’s reputation. Mother attaches her collar, leashing them altogether alongside all the other girls for the day.
The shrine is far so they take one of the ships Mother owns. Even when soaring through the skies, Sua wills herself to not look at the stars.
She can’t.
They are welcomed to the shrine by segyein sanctars, their lumpy and disfigured faces hidden beneath veils. Many segyein and their pet humans span across the vast crowd below the humungous statue in the courtyard of the Great Anakt.
The Great Anakt, to Sua, resembles that of a human and a segyein put together. Though if she said that aloud to anyone but Syla, she’d probably get her tongue cut out.
The Great Anakt carries the figure of a human, though its features are distorted in some kind of manner. With a face hidden by a veil similar to the sanctars, hundreds of thorns protrude from beneath.
Arms, tentacles and claws reach outwards from the Great Anakt like the explosion of an asteroid, reaching towards the skies. The Great Anakt perches on its built stone pillar, limbs intertwined and crossed to form a complicated religious symbol.
All of the segyein and their pet humans kneel.
Mother kneels before the Great Anakt.
As do the other girls.
“You know, little star, the humans used to have a Great Anakt of their own back on their home planet.”
“Really?”
“They called him, God.”
“Sua.” one of the girls shove her roughly, hissing.
Syla’s smile is bright and thoughtful, fingers curling around a raven strand of Sua’s hair.
“They believed that things that cannot be solved by human power are believed to be by God’s will.”
“Everything?”
“Kneel.” she hisses.
“Everything. Everything was by God’s plan – he orchestrates everything we do for a reason.”
“Even this?”
A scaly claw drags up the back of her thigh beneath her ruffle dress, slow and warning.
“Even this. Everything has a reason. I like to believe that our God is out there and he’s waiting. After all this suffering, he will bless us and we will all be free.”
It punctures the skin and Sua bites back a whimper, falling to her knees instantly. Tears well up in the back of her eyes but Sua takes in ragged breaths, trying really hard not to cry right here. If anything, showing that she was upset in public would stain Mother’s reputation and earn her another punishment.
Sua can already feel the blood dripping from the back of her thigh when the claw retracts.
“But how long do we have to wait in suffering, unnie?”
Syla had turned away from her then, a bittersweet smile gracing her pretty features. She twirls another lock of Sua’s hair between her thumb and forefinger, stroking her scalp softly.
“I don’t know how long, little star. But soon, very soon. Whatever happens is all part of God’s plan and his will is going to save us all, okay? Believe in it – because I do.”
Sua gazes across the crowd. Not a single pet human is uncollared or unleashed, all wearing either rags or pretty clothing to appease their owners. Their faces all look the same – miserable and hopeless.
How could this be part of God’s plan?
All these kids, Syla’s death, Mother’s punishment.
If God really was out there, why didn’t he save Syla?
Syla, her soft words and kind face. Syla, her hopes and dreams of creating a safer place for them. Syla and everything she’s done to protect Sua and all of the other girls from all the suffering and pain all the other pet humans have to endure.
Syla, Sua’s big sister.
If anyone was to be saved by God’s will, why not it be Syla, one of his believers?
Sua only realises that she’s crying then, tears dribbling down her cheeks like thick waterdrops. They roll down and splatter onto the ground before her, her chest heaving up and down hysterically.
She can’t stop.
Sua hears the shuffling and discomfort of the girls next to her, some of them shifting away from her as if disassociating from her. If Syla was here, she wouldn’t care. She would wrap Sua in her arms and let her cry until she stopped.
If Syla was here, she wouldn’t let anything happen to to Sua.
She can feel Mother’s ruby-eyed gaze searing into the side of her head, dangerous and threatening. She can’t stop crying. They’re in public so Mother wouldn’t dare lay a single claw on her now but when they get home…
Sua tries to suck back the tears but she can’t.
She can’t.
But then, she hears voices.
Not just voices though.
Sua looks up.
It’s a group of pet humans, bunched together below the Great Anakt statue. Their faces are also covered with the veil and they’re dressed clad in fully black, not a single piece of skin exposed. But from the way their shoulders slouch and curl inwards miserably, Sua can tell.
She can always tell.
But their voices – they’re singing.
And it sounds beautiful.
The way their melodic voices blend into a singular harmony is hypnotic, their pretty cadences projecting throughout the entire courtyard of the shrine. There’s no particular words to the song, rather just a reflection of their vocal cords, ringing out for the world to hear.
God, does it absolutely hit a place deep in Sua she didn’t know before.
The tears in her eyes sting even more and her lips part.
Sua sings with them.
Eyes are on her all around but Sua doesn’t care. She couldn’t give less of a shit to whatever all these people thought, especially Mother. It doesn’t matter if Mother hits her hard enough to scar like with Syla because Syla is dead.
Nothing matters anymore when Sua’s big sister is dead.
Singing in the only thing that reminds Sua of Syla anymore, the way she’d compliment Sua’s soft lilts.
Mother’s gaze is close to lasering her skin but Sua keeps singing, following along with their sweet melody.
It’s the only thing she knows how to do right.
Alongside the choir’s beautiful harmonizing, she hears one of the sanctars begin to preach the Great Anakt. The segyein language is different from the human language, both the frequency and the pronunciation.
It’s a high frequency, pitched with the sound of throat gargling and hissing – unintelligible majority of the time to humans. Beside the sanctar is a pet human in a veil, slow voice pressed into a microphone to allow for all the pet humans to understand as well.
“The Great Anakt, our creator.” he speaks, voice quiet and serious as the higher frequencies of the segyein language echo through the courtyard from the sanctar.
“They who created the universe, its lifeforms and beings.”
“The Great Anakt, for who we must bow down to for all their generosity.”
Sua has heard these preachings a few times. All of the times, she was bored out of her mind and playing with Syla’s fingers. But now the silence is sombre, with rows of pet humans kneeled beside towering aliens who are also kneeling.
But now, Syla is dead and her belief in the humans’ God was futile.
Her belief that their suffering was essential as part of God’s plan was futile.
“The Great Anakt, our saviour.”
“He will save us all, little star. Believe in it.”
“They who brought an end to suffering to every corner in the universe.”
“After all this suffering, he will bless us.”
“How long?”
“The Great Anakt, for who we must bow down for all their kindness.”
“The Great Anakt, the most superior entity gracing us with their presence.”
“I don’t know.”
“They who brings peace and prosperity to all worlds, ending the abomination that is suffering and pain, leaving a hope to bloom even in the deepest of abysses in the darkness.”
“The Great Anakt, for who we must bow down for their existence.”
It’s spontaneous. Like the phenomenon where adjacent stars wink out of existence. Each and every segyein and human bows down, kneeling and pressing their heads to the floor before them. Mother bows and so do all the other girls.
The bleeding wound on the back of her thigh pulsates.
Sua kneels.
❋❋❋
Sua does not receive a punishment for singing with the choir when they arrive back to Mother’s estate. She does not receive a punishment for crying in front of Mother’s associates, nor does she get one for disobeying her direct orders.
Instead, Sua gets more than just a taste of honeyed porridge that night.
And each and every following night after that.