Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Nemo
Nemo took a detour.
It was mid-July, and the sun had heated the streets of Avasikuu to an uncomfortable degree. Nemo was certain that his skin would hiss and burn instantly if the light touched it for even a second too long. His dachshund Unna seemed to agree, as she pressed herself along the house walls, avoiding anything that wasn’t in the shade.
Although Nemo hadn’t been in the capital for long, he already knew the way to the music school from all the times he had picked up his cousin from choir practice. Still, it felt unfamiliar, even after the past two months. Avasikuu was big; many people lived here in a confined space, all going about their business without actually noticing each other. Nemo liked the anonymity. He liked not being recognized by everyone on the street, and yet he still felt like a stranger in his own body.
With both hands in his pockets—holding Unna’s leash in one—he trudged along the street. Occasionally, he had to stop because the dog had her nose glued to the granite sidewalk, quickly getting lost in the city’s smells. But since new impressions came with every step, she was easily distracted, and soon he could hear her little paws tapping over the stone again. Her collar jingled. Sometimes she looked up at him with a dog’s smile, and Nemo couldn’t manage to smile back.
The side street soon merged into the large intersection at Hiiviskala Square, on the opposite side of which stood the music school. Nemo had to shorten Unna’s leash. She was obedient, but like him, she was used to life in the countryside, and it was an adjustment to suddenly live in the largest city on the continent instead of in a snowy small town at the edge of the world.
Nemo took a deep breath as he finally stepped through the wide entrance of the sandstone building. Inside the old walls, it was noticeably cooler. The music school hadn’t changed its appearance or its aura in the past two months. The sandstone was discolored up to two meters high with dark stains from fire damage during the war, and like nearly all the buildings in the city that had survived, no one had thought to renovate it. At least, that’s what his cousin said.
Eventually, Nemo tucked Unna under his arm because he took the stairs to the third floor, and her short dachshund legs weren’t made for climbing. She was still excited.
At the top, he took a seat in one of the waiting area chairs and placed Unna on his lap. He was in a short side corridor in the newly built wing of the school, where the ceilings were noticeably lower and the floor was made of horribly shiny laminate. He spotted some squashed chewing gum on the floor and made sure not to touch the underside of the chair. Even in this one room, at least three foam ceiling tiles were missing.
From the room behind the door to his left, he heard the choir group singing. He didn’t know the song, but the young women sang in a dialect he could barely understand—so it had to be an old folk song. The melody carried him back to the dense forests of his homeland, to the lake that mirrored the sky, the towering mountains, and the snow. Nemo stroked Unna’s short, smooth fur and leaned back. As long as he focused on the singing, he didn’t have to think about anything else.
The melody faded. After five minutes of silence, the door to the rehearsal room opened and a whole crowd of young women poured out.
“Hey Unna, you funky little sausage!”
Tarja was suddenly standing next to Nemo, hands on her hips. Unna got all excited! She panted and barked and immediately jumped off Nemo’s lap to greet Tarja, receiving a good ear scratch in return.
“Well? Well?”
Unna barked excitedly.
“Who’s the dumbest dog in Avasikuu, huh?”
“Shh,” Nemo said to Unna and took her back into his arms. Every eye in the room was on him.
Tarja laughed. “Hey, I just wanted to let her believe it’s her and not you, for a moment at least.”
“Ha, ha,” he said. Tarja hugged him, then rested her arms on his shoulders. Her grip was firm.
“Did you find your way well enough?”
“Mm, yeah.”
Nemo nodded to a few other girls from Tarja’s group and regretted it immediately. Nothing about his smile felt like it was meant to be used in front of people.
Tarja grinned. “Better don’t bother, it looks awful. Did you bring the papers?”
“Yeah, yeah. Unna didn’t chew anything up.”
“She better not have.”
She gave Unna a kiss on the forehead, then ruffled Nemo’s hair, drawing a quiet groan from him. “I need to pop into the dressing room real quick—better to show up all ready to go.”
Then she disappeared into one of the dressing rooms. Nemo shifted from one foot to the other, looked at Unna—she helped him hold himself together. He didn’t belong in this place, nor in this city. Hopefully, Tarja wouldn’t take too long to change.
*
Tarja had traded her everyday clothes for something more military. It wasn’t a full uniform, and she wasn’t in full gear either, but it was enough as long as she wasn’t officially on duty yet. Heavy boots, loose black trousers with plenty of room to move, held up by suspenders over a tight-fitting, midnight-blue shirt. Most striking was the thick leather cuff she wore on her right wrist, adorned with eight metallic hemispheres—a magical amplifier unique to her clan.
She snapped the suspenders against her chest, then strode past Nemo toward the stairs. “Come on. The sergeant major’s gonna have an aneurysm if we’re even ninety seconds late.”
Nemo followed, Unna in his arms.
“How’s your day been so far?” Tarja asked once the three of them had left the building and were heading toward the tram stop.
“The usual,” Nemo replied, doing his best to find the cobblestones interesting.
“Let me guess,” she began. “You got up about an hour ago, showered, smoked a cigarette, and headed out?” Knowing her, she’d raised one of those thick eyebrows at him. But he didn’t look.
“No, no. Got up just before noon and kept working on that essay for Tribunic Studies.” A lie. He hadn’t touched it in two weeks. In truth, her guess had been much closer to the mark than he’d care to admit.
“Nemo, you’ve got to get yourself together.”
“I am together,” he said quickly—and a bit louder than intended.
“You need to get out more. It’s not doing you any good, just sitting around at home all break.”
“I do go out. Don’t think Unna’s taking herself on walks.”
“You know what I mean.” There was little shade at the tram stop. Nemo hunched his shoulders to shield his neck. “I mean people. Social contact. Have you even spoken to any of your new classmates these past few weeks?”
“That’s what group projects are for.” The tram was now in sight.
“Oh Sadnaval,” Tarja groaned. “You’re isolating yourself.”
“Yeah, and?” He picked up Unna to avoid paying for her ticket. Rush hour was starting.
“It’s only your first trimester. I know it’s a lot to adjust to, but I’m worried about you. You… hm…” She exhaled sharply and looked away. They boarded the tram and found a seat. Unna settled on Nemo’s lap and accepted their affection with quiet dignity. “When’s your next appointment with Dr. Grigorijew?”
“Next Wednesday.”
“You going?”
“Yeah.” The tram began to move. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know.” Tarja shrugged. “It’s just… I’ve been watching you drag yourself through each day since spring. I know you’re not okay, and—”
“I have every reason not to be! And why would I want to stay like this? You think I enjoy this?”
“Okay.” She waved it off and fell silent. Nemo welcomed the quiet and watched the streets blur past the windows. The tram was now near the headquarters of the Kraskow—one of the two clans still based in the city. But before the estate came into view, the tram turned and entered the tunnel that cut through the mountain in the city’s center.
“Why’d you already change clothes back at school?” he asked after a while, once there was nothing more to see outside.
“Told you. I don’t want to be late to duty just because I’m still getting my gear together.” She didn’t look at him as she answered. Instead, she got to her feet as the tram began to slow. There was a transfer stop in the tunnels—they had to switch lines there.
“Not like you couldn’t just use magic if it came to it,” he muttered. He didn’t really care where she changed.
They disembarked. Tarja snorted. “I don’t know. Technically, sure. But somehow… I’ve been doing it less since I got to Avasikuu. You too, right?”
He nodded. She definitely had different reasons than he did. Back when it had just been the three of them, in their snowy little hometown at the end of the world, he and Tarja used to teleport everywhere—much to the annoyance of Nemo’s brother, who had never inherited the ability.
Tarja spun around with flair, snapped her suspenders once more, and suddenly grinned. “Won’t be long now until you’re part of the club too—getting dragged across Avasikuu and half the continent.”
“Can’t wait,” Nemo groaned, setting Unna down for a moment. She was squirming too much.
“Come on, it’ll be good for you.” She nudged him lightly with her elbow. “Keeps you busy. And if you want to do well on the job, you’ll need plenty of...”
“Don’t say it.”
“...teamwork with your future colleagues. Oh yes. Team assessments. A wonderful invention.”
He rolled his eyes. “Luckily I’ve got two trimesters left.”
“And they’ll fly by, believe me. Autumn break’s right around the corner, and after that the year will be over before you know it. Then you’re done—and a whole new chapter begins!”
“For you too,” he said. “And like I said, there’s still a year left. So... I don’t know.” He shrugged. Just then the tram arrived, and they got on again. This time there were no seats, so Nemo stood holding Unna in his arms once more.
“Who knows,” Tarja mused. “Maybe I’ll get to order you around, officially, as an officer cadet.”
“Yeah, or maybe they’ll ship you off to Lakejew.”
“They’re not shipping me off to Lakejew,” she replied, though she seemed to give some thought to how likely it was the marshals would dump her in the old capital. Nemo wasn’t sure if Lakejew really was the freezing snow-hell it was rumored to be in the southern parts of the country—but at least some of the assumptions about his own hometown had turned out to be true.
Just before the tram left the tunnel, a fare inspector boarded. Tarja wasn’t asked for her ticket; her military affiliation was more than obvious from her clothing. Nemo, on the other hand, had to show his ID. In today’s modern world, there weren’t many practical advantages to belonging to a clan with rare magical abilities—but free public transport throughout Hostrimaa was one of them.
The inspector raised his eyebrows, glanced at Nemo, and muttered, “What a strange day,” before moving on. More than one pair of eyes now lingered on Tarja and Nemo. The latter turned to stare out the window, though there was nothing to see at the moment. Tarja seemed to simply ignore it.
“Does that always happen?” he asked quietly, wondering if he should just buy a ticket next time. It was the first time he’d been checked since arriving in the city.
“Yeah. Just ignore it. I doubt it’ll get any better, unless the three of us suddenly go rabbit-mode and repopulate the clan.”
Nemo grimaced. “No, thanks.”
Tarja laughed softly. Unfortunately, she was right—nothing about their numbers was likely to change anytime soon. Their family was internationally known for its magic, yet the current number of living members stood at exactly three. Besides Tarja and his brother, Nemo had no surviving relatives, except for one cousin who lived on another continent, but belonged to another clan, thus barely counted.
For a brief moment the tram emerged from the tunnel, bathed in the golden light of late afternoon. But the next district was part of the historic old town, bordered by the palace of the tsar’s family, so the tracks soon dipped underground again.
“You know how many people will be in my year?” Nemo asked after a few minutes. They still had a long way to go; the military complex was on the far side of the city.
“You mean just the mage apprentices?”
He nodded.
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “I can find out, but it won’t be many.”
The war had carved a deep wound in the country’s birthrates—especially among magical families. As far as Nemo knew, Tarja had been the only mage in her entire year.
She took Unna from him, and the dog was so thrilled she licked Tarja’s chin.
“Hey, hey!” she laughed, wiping her face before turning back to Nemo. “I have to say, the thought of you joining the academy in March makes me a little nostalgic.”
Nemo let out a quiet sigh—but it was a content one.
“Come on.” She leaned against him. “Let me have this. I’m still trying to cope with the fact that you’re taller than me now.”
Nemo raised his eyebrows. “I’ve been taller than you for two years.”
“No way. Two years ago you were twelve.”
“I wasn’t twelve two years ago!” he said—though it somehow sounded like he was twelve now. “I was thirteen,” he muttered, fully aware that didn’t help his case.
Tarja burst into laughter. Unna gave a short, supportive bark.
The rest of the ride passed in silence. That was fine with Nemo. The military’s medical evaluation had been sitting like a stone in his stomach all week—better to get it over with quickly.
*
The examination turned out to be less terrible than expected. Still, Nemo felt uneasy as he sat down on the front steps of the Magic Academy, lit a cigarette, and waited next to Unna. Tarja had said she wanted to talk to him. At least, that’s what she claimed—and so he would wait. What else was he supposed to do?
The building was as rundown as the conservatory. It hadn’t caught fire, at least, but there were small holes in the walls—light artillery damage. And yet the academy could have looked majestic, perched here at the edge of the city, half carved into the rock. But even for the military, there wasn’t more money than there was. It was no secret that the national coffers were empty.
With one hand, Nemo stroked Unna’s fur. If he just focused on its smoothness—maybe then... maybe then there wouldn’t be room in his head for all the other noise. Maybe he could just shut it all off. Breathe. Two more trimesters. He still had two trimesters to figure something out.
He pulled out his ID, which he’d shoved into his pocket earlier. The photo was old and looked as awful as always. Three years ago, he had somehow looked even paler than now—fewer dark circles, more baby fat in his cheeks. Tarja still liked to pinch them from time to time.
“Milius Finjarin Suna,” the staff doctor had said before the exam, clearly enjoying the full name. “We have high hopes for you. Your country will never forget what your family has done, you can count on that.”
Nemo had wanted to point out that magical talent often skipped a generation—but fortunately managed to keep that to himself just in time.
“How’d it go?” Tarja asked as she sat down beside him. He could feel her disapproving glance; she didn’t like that he smoked. But she also knew she couldn’t forbid it—she was his legal guardian, sure, but only three years older than him and barely more than a cousin.
“I, uh...” he began, unsure how to phrase it. “I just hope the school year drags on forever.” Maybe he’d tank his finals in December on purpose, just so he’d have to repeat the tenth grade. That would be the easier path than joining the military—he simply wasn’t cut out for it. Honestly, he would’ve preferred something creative, maybe studying at the music conservatory. But no one had asked him, and no one cared what he wanted anyway. After basic military training, the only options were to pick a career path involving magic—or stay in the army. Neither appealed to him.
“That bad?”
When he didn’t respond, she sighed. “You’ll get used to it.”
“There are things you can’t get used to.” He stubbed out the cigarette, then untied Unna and stood up. He just wanted to go home, pretend he was going to work on his paper, and then do absolutely nothing. It didn’t matter anyway. Why analyze a text down to its last metaphor when, no matter his grades, he’d end up in the military either way?
“Then let me put it another way.” Tarja stood up as well. “There are things you have to get used to.”
“But I don’t want to get used to them!”
“That attitude won’t get you anywhere in life.” She kept her tone calm, but there was more force behind her words now. “Things will always happen—unasked, uncontrollable—whether you want them or not.”
“I know. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Nemo looked at Unna. He liked how carefree she was. He wanted to go home.
Tarja sighed. Silence stretched between them, uncomfortable. Nemo wished he could teleport far, far away—and technically, he could. But Unna wouldn’t have handled it well.
“I’ve got to go,” Tarja said after nearly a full minute.
Nemo tried to stand up straighter, but his shoulders slumped. She hugged him. He hugged back.
“I just don’t want you to give up,” she said softly. “You’re all I have left in this country.”
“I know,” he murmured. “Maybe... maybe Shadrach will come back soon.”
Again, she said nothing for a long moment. He knew she didn’t want to respond. “Yeah,” she said at last. She was lying. “Maybe.” Then she let go and looked up. “Get home safe, okay?”
He nodded.
“And don’t smoke so much while I’m gone. If you’re heading into the military, you’ll need good stamina—and you won’t get far with tar-filled lungs.”
That earned the faintest trace of a smile from him. But he said nothing else, just headed back to the tram stop with Unna, while Tarja disappeared into the academy building for her shift.
The return trip was completely uneventful. Unna behaved herself, and the only new thing was a postcard in the mailbox for Tarja—sent from a friend on vacation. Nemo tucked Unna under his arm to carry her up to the fifth floor. The air inside their apartment was stifling, and for once, he was genuinely grateful for the high ceilings. He’d open the windows in a minute.
He placed the postcard on the sideboard in the hallway, then slipped out of his shoes and unhooked Unna’s leash. She scampered off straight into his room. He would probably follow in a moment, throw himself onto the futon, maybe read a bit, or—after a long time—finally pick up his cello again. But he didn’t. Because just then, he caught the smell of tobacco in the apartment.
They lived here alone.
Unna padded back toward him, but Nemo gently nudged her back into his room with his foot and closed the door. The cigarette smell was coming from the kitchen.
Nemo’s heart picked up speed. He breathed in slowly, deeply. Closed his eyes for a second. Centered himself. Then he walked to the kitchen door and opened it.
Someone was sitting inside.
“That’s the fifth cigarette, Mr. Milius Suna,” said the stranger at the kitchen table. “I was starting to think you’d never come home.”