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Aemeath couldn’t stop crying.
Her body shook, half due to being soaked to the bone and freezing, and half because she sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, and refused to stop sobbing.
Her family was gone, erased by a Voidstorm, and the last thing she had of them, the only real evidence that they had even existed, that they were even alive, was now lost to the endless waters below.
The stranger who’d saved her was holding her tight as she continued crying. She was so warm, Aemeath thought absentmindedly as she sniffled. Like the rays from the Reactor Drive in her old home, in Bjartr Woods. She spoke softly, words of gentle comfort, but Aemeath couldn’t hear the specifics.
With a hup and a grunt of effort, Aemeath found herself scooped up into the air, and the stranger began walking towards the cabin in the distance.
“Where…” Aemeath sniffed, her vision watery. “Where are we going?”
“We’re going inside,” said the stranger softly, holding her carefully. “We need to warm up by a fire, or else we’ll get very sick.”
Aemeath rested her chin on the stranger’s shoulder, looking outward. The slight blizzard from earlier had slowed; the air now danced with colorful flurries, a tango with the purple petals from the tree above and the snowflakes entering from elsewhere.
The sparkling lake she’d fallen into rippled as the wind blew, and she began crying quietly again. “My talisman…”
“Your what?”
“I dropped it,” Aemeath wailed. They entered the cabin, and the door whirred shut behind them. Heat blasted her face. Aemeath was plopped onto a soft, wide couch, and she shifted against the cushions, feeling herself bounce. It was fun. She went onto her hands and knees and began jumping on it.
“Hey, no jumping with your shoes on,” admonished the stranger, appearing suddenly with a heap of stuff in her hands. Aemeath pouted but obeyed, sitting back down. She scrunched her eyes shut as the stranger began toweling her hair, then swung a blanket over her shoulders. “Hold out your hands,” she said, and Aemeath did.
Stew! The wooden bowl warmed her hands a little, but it smelled delicious. Her stomach growled, and Aemeath began to tilt the bowl towards her.
“Whoa, whoa, child.” Something poked her nose, and Aemeath blinked at the wooden spoon hovering in front of her. “Use this.”
“I’m hungry,” Aemeath grumbled, but snatched it up. She began shoveling spoonfuls into her mouth.
The stranger left, but returned soon after, sitting next to Aemeath on the couch with a bowl of her own. They ate in silence, which was otherwise broken by the giant fire in the middle of the room crackling away, and Aemeath’s slurps.
When the bowls were empty, and placed inside each other to be put away, the stranger introduced herself. She knelt on the floor, to stay eye-level with Aemeath, who was kicking her legs off the edge of the couch.
“My name’s Rover,” she said with a smile. Aemeath stared at her. Her eyes were golden, like hers. But a little sad. Maybe all grownups looked sad, Aemeath thought.
“I’m Aemeath!” She pressed a thumb to her chest proudly.
“Hello, Aemeath.” Rover hesitated, pursing her lips. Grownups also took way too long to speak, Aemeath decided. “Where are your parents?” She asked, carefully.
That heavy, familiar weight settled in her chest. The backs of her eyes felt warm, but for some reason, she didn’t cry, even though she felt like she wanted to. It was as if all her tears had dried up.
“Gone,” Aemeath mumbled, her kicking feet slowing. “A Voidstorm—”
“Sh. It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything more.” Rover reached up to pat her head, eyes thoughtful. “Do you…where did you come from? How did you get here?”
“Walked. I made it far,” said Aemeath proudly. “I came allllll the way from Bjartr Woods!”
Rover’s eyes widened in alarm, and for a moment Aemeath shrunk, suddenly afraid she was going to get scolded. Instead, Rover breathed a sigh of relief, patting her head again.
“That is very far,” Rover said, nodding. “You’re very brave. But it’s also dangerous here, and very cold.”
“I’m part Roya. Nothing is too cold for me.”
“Maybe, but it’s still unsafe for a kid like you.”
“I’m not a kid! I’m almost…” Aemeath began counting on her fingers, frowned, then held up her hands. “This old!”
“Mm, wow.” A smile tugged at the edge of Rover’s face, and she sat back on her heels, tilting her head. “Did you tell anyone where you were going? Would anyone in Bjartr Woods be looking for you?”
“I dunno.” Talking about her old home made her feel uncomfortable, it made it hard to breathe. “I don’t like the grownups there. They all act weird around me, since my parents died.” Suddenly desperate to change the subject, Aemeath began looking around. A screen blinking with crisscrossing lines and dots caught her eye, and she shot up, running over.
“What’s this?” She asked, staring wide-eyed at it. It covered almost half of the wall.
Footsteps sounded behind her, and then Rover stood at her side. “I’m monitoring the situation here.”
“Mon…mon-neteering?”
Rover let out a quiet chuckle. “I’m looking at stuff. Seeing what’s safe, what’s unsafe. How things are changing.”
“Sounds boring,” Aemeath said with a frown.
“Heh. Maybe.”
Aemeath turned and squinted at her. The outfit Rover was wearing looked a little familiar. The jacket, the accessories, the colors…
“Are you someone from that big school?” Aemeath asked, pointing up at her. “My parents used to work with them, I think. You science people.”
“Startorch Academy, you mean?” Rover wiggled her hand back and forth. Aemeath found the gesture funny and began doing it as well. I’m a…student, of sorts.”
“That’s why you’re here?”
“Yeah. Researching.”
Aemeath mouthed the word ‘researching.’ She rolled her eyes with a huff. Was that the only thing grownups did? Even some of the grownups back in Bjartr Woods would talk to those…researchers.
“I don’t think I want to do that.”
“You don’t have to go into research,” said Rover with a chuckle. “You don’t need to think about such things yet.”
“Can I stay here with you?” Aemeath asked nervously.
Rover paused, then she knelt down again. “You want to stay here with me?” Aemeath nodded after a beat. “…maybe.”
Aemeath put her hands on her hips and pouted. “Why maybe?”
“I have to talk with some people. First of all, tell the other Roya you’re okay. Then talk with Startorch, tell them of my situation. I’ll have to adjust my scheduled supplies,” she muttered, mainly to herself.
“And then I can stay?”
“Hm. Perhaps.”
===
Snowflakes fluttered about. Aemeath stood on her tippy-toes, attempting to peek under the tarp covering the top of the supply sled.
A short distance away, Rover stood, signing a document being handed to her by a handful of researchers. They were all bound in furs and warm clothing, their whirring motorbikes idling next to them.
Aemeath wondered how Rover never got cold in that outfit of hers. Maybe she was special. She puffed up at the thought, suddenly proud.
Rover and the other researchers exchanged a few words, then the latter hopped back onto their bikes and sped away, motors roaring. Rover trudged back through the snow towards Aemeath, who guiltily looked up at her, hand stuck under the tarp.
Rover merely smiled. “See something you like?”
“No,” Aemeath said, tugging her hand free. “You got a lot of books, though.” They all had long titles. Aemeath didn’t recognize most of the words, except for “parent” and “child.”
“Mm. Those’re for me. But don’t worry,” said Rover, lightly booping her on the nose. “I got you something too. If,” she continued, raising a finger, “You help me carry some of this stuff inside.”
Aemeath was aghast. She looked at the sled, longer than Rover was tall, then up at the stairs leading to their cabin. “I don’t think I’m strong enough.”
Rover laughed. Aemeath liked it when she laughed; her voice was like the night sky breaking through a storm. “Don’t worry, I’ll only hand you small stuff.”
It took a lot of back and forth. Aemeath led the way, Rover behind, and though she walked slower than a dizzy Soliskin, Rover would always follow patiently. Aemeath would carry a small box or a few cans in her arms, and Rover would hold an impressive tower of boxes and crates between two hands.
When the sled was empty, and pushed into a more appropriate spot for pick-up later, Aemeath planted her hands on her knees, panting dramatically. Rover dusted off her hands.
“Well done, Aemeath.” Aemeath shut her eyes with a smile as Rover ruffled her hair. “And now time for your surprise.”
“How come you’re so strong?” Aemeath demanded as they headed back inside. She pointed at the mark on Rover’s hand, the black squigglies that people called a Tacet Mark. “Is it ‘cause you’re a Resonator?”
Rover shrugged with a smile, but she didn’t turn her head around fast enough for Aemeath not to notice the brief sadness that flashed across her features.
Aemeath rubbed her hands in relief as they entered the warm interior, and she took her coat off to hang it up. “Will I become a Resonator?”
“I don’t know.” Rover crossed over to the pile of boxes they’d placed in one part of the cabin, and began scanning the labels.
“I don’t understand how some people are Resonators immediately, and some are Resonators later.” Aemeath twisted around, trying to see if maybe a Tacet Mark had popped up somewhere on her skin without her noticing.
“It’s a complicated science. We’re still learning about it—ah, here it is.” Rover beckoned Aemeath closer, hands behind her back.
“What is it?” Aemeath asked, trying to crane her neck and see. It was something colorful, that much she could tell.
“Close your eyes.”
Aemeath did so, and then something small and soft was pressed against her face. She opened her eyes, startled, and found a colorful, small plush, in the shape of a cat. She clutched it between her hands. It was pink and blue, and…
“This looks like me,” Aemeath said, holding it up.
Rover smiled nervously. “Do you like it?”
“Yeah.” Aemeath squeezed the toy, pressing its softness into her cheek. “But I want another one.”
“Another?”
“This one looks like me, so I want one that looks like you,” Aemeath reasoned. “It’s only fair.”
“One that looks like me?” Rover laughed gently. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”
===
“Get…in!” Aemeath huffed. Her hands slipped against the seal’s rubbery, slippery skin, and she tripped, crashing on the ground. “Ow!”
The seal, unphased by her actions, merely rolled on its side and barked. Aemeath grumbled. Then she had an idea, and sprinted inside the cabin to grab some salted fish.
Several minutes later, she had three snowfluff seals flopping about inside the cabin, trekking in plant debris and melting snow. They sniffed around curiously, waddling on the wooden floors. Aemeath cheered triumphantly and went back outside, careful to keep the door shut. She returned soon after, hefting a long stalk of kelp in the air.
“En garde!” Aemeath yelled, and charged. “Villains! Taste justice!”
Aemeath hopped about, jumping over furniture, taking high ground atop the couch, striking the evil seals with her mighty sword of kelp, whacking away. The stalk was harmless, as were the seals’ demeanor, and they merely lolled about, blinking in the face of Aemeath’s fury.
Aemeath ran this way and that, before climbing up onto Rover’s desk, hefting her “sword” in the air, shouting her victories and condemning the seals’ actions that led to their defeat. Exhausted, Aemeath flopped onto her back, kelp stack falling onto the carpet.
The cabin’s door whirred open.
“What the—?! Aemeath!”
Aemeath lifted her head up over the desk, excited. Her smile died immediately upon seeing the furious look on Rover’s face. “…y-yes?”
“What is this?!” Rover demanded, gesturing to the mess. Bits of kelp were strewn all over, some of them being tentatively sniffed at by the seals, who were otherwise content to yawn and snooze on the dirty floor.
“U-um.” Aemeath slid down from the desk, head bowed. She twisted her fingers together. “I was playing.”
“Playing? With live animals? If you want to play with the seals, you do that outside!” Rover snatched up a half-eaten fish off the ground and began leading the seals out of the cabin. “You better clean up this mess right now!”
She’d never spoken to her that way before. Aemeath’s throat tightened, and Rover’s visage faltered for a split section, but it was too late. Aemeath burst into tears and began running up the stairs to her bedroom.
“Aemeath!” Rover called after her, voice more urging than angry this time.
“Go away! I hate you!” Aemeath shouted, and tugged the curtain to her bedroom shut. She climbed atop her bed and sat in the corner, burying her head in her knees.
She wasn’t sure how much time passed. She could hear some faint noises below, likely Rover cleaning up downstairs. Guilt settled itself in her chest, an uncomfortable burning feeling, and she scowled. She reached over and grabbed her smaller cat, the one that resembled her, and hugged it tight, sniffling.
Rover’s cat, bigger and far softer, stared back at her from its place on the bed. Normally, she loved it, snuggling next to it when she slept, dreaming of snuggling the real Rover instead. Now, she couldn’t stand its (seemingly) judgemental stare. She shot a hand out and smacked it in the face. It toppled over.
Suddenly feeling awful, Aemeath picked it back up and kissed its head as an apology. Still, she didn’t want it to look at her. She turned it around so it faced the wall.
Footsteps sounded on the staircase, growing louder with every second. Aemeath tensed, eyeing her bedroom curtain nervously. A shadow stopped just shy of entering.
“Aemeath,” called Rover quietly from outside the curtain. “May I come in?”
Aemeath glared. “No.”
“Okay.” There was some shuffling, then Rover spoke again. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I was…surprised, but I should’ve explained my feelings to you in a gentler way. I’m sorry. If I get upset again, I won’t raise my voice at you like that.”
Aemeath sat in silence for a while, then she slid off her bed and began padding over to the curtain. She reached a hand out to grasp the edge, hesitated, then ended up merely sticking her plush cat out.
A muffled sound of surprise, then Rover gently patted the cat’s head. “Who’s this?”
“You—” Aemeath cleared her throat, then began speaking in a badly disguised voice. “You know who I am!” she said, wiggling the cat around. “Anyway, Aemeath says she’s also sorry. For bringing the seals inside.”
“Mm. Tell Aemeath I accept her apology. And…I have a peace offering, of sorts.” Rover’s hand slid under the curtain, and with it, a strange plastic rectangle. It had buttons and a long stick.
Aemeath gasped, ripping the curtain open. “Is this a game controller?!”
“Uh-huh,” said Rover, a surprised, but pleased smile on her face now that Aemeath was out of her room. “I…meant to give this to you as a reward later, after you finished your homework. But,” and here Rover held out another controller, a twin to the first, “maybe we could play together now?”
===
“Woo-hoo! High score!”
Aemeath celebrated on the couch, kicking her feet and punching the air. She’d gotten a new high score in Lahai-Roi Blocks! She wasn’t any closer to beating Rover’s ridiculously big number, but it was progress!
“Inside voice, Aemeath,” called Rover absentmindedly. She was sitting at her desk, typing away. The giant screen attached to the wall in front of her had so many blinking words and lights that it made Aemeath dizzy.
“Sorry,” Aemeath responded, quickly saving her game. She couldn’t lose evidence of her recent victory. She exited to the menu and quit, before walking over to Rover and taking a seat next to her.
Aemeath reached over and pulled some stray papers towards her, breaking out her crayons and beginning to color. It was a little boring when Rover was focused like this, but Aemeath didn’t really mind. She liked scribbling away, drawing fanart of Space Fantasy: Katya VI, listening to Rover mutter to herself. It was…cozy. Comforting. Aemeath giggled as Rover reached over to pat her head, before resuming her typing.
Attempting to color her half-warrior half-Aemeath character, Aemeath peeked under Rover’s elbow to steal a glance at her computer. Among too many pop-ups for Aemeath to count, there was a square in the corner that looked like a conversation page. Aemeath only caught one word before Rover shifted, and it became obscured from view: Shorekeeper.
Shorekeeper. Aemeath vaguely recognized the name. She’d caught a visual glimpse of her once, when she was sneaking around late at night to spy on what Rover was doing. She hadn’t caught much detail, only that she looked blue, and reminded Aemeath of a butterfly. But Aemeath liked her, if only for the fact that Rover appeared lighter when talking with her, less tense.
A few more minutes passed in relative silence, before Rover suddenly sighed, stretching back in her seat. She shut her laptop closed, pushing it aside.
“What’re you drawing, Aemeath?” Rover asked, resting her chin on her hand.
“Look!” Aemeath displayed it proudly. “I’m a hero! Whatchu think?”
Rover tilted her head, the slightest crease forming between her brows. She poked the page gently. “Is that a lizard?”
“No, that’s a dragon,” huffed Aemeath. She placed it back on the desk and began coloring again. “It’s not finished yet…”
“Ah. Sorry. I like it, though.”
“Hmph.”
In the corner of her eye, Rover rubbed the back of her head. After some time, she asked, “So…new high score? I heard you earlier.”
“Yeah. In Lahai-Roi Blocks.” Aemeath spun towards her excitedly. “Do you wanna play together? Are you done with work?”
“Yeah. I got time.”
“Yahoo!” Aemeath jumped off her seat—
“Put your crayons away first, Aemeath.”
“Fiiine.” Aemeath shoved them mismatched into their proper box, then bounded over to the couch. Rover was already swapping the game cartridges, taking out Space Fantasy and inserting Split Stars.
Aemeath grabbed her controller and plopped onto the couch, jaw set. “We’re going to clear Level 4 today, I just know it! We must,” she said, determined.
“We’ll try our best,” Rover said, picking up her own controller.
“No! We will beat it. No matter what it takes.”
Rover paused, the little chiptune of the game’s start-up menu playing softly over the speakers. Aemeath began spamming the start button, but she was player two; only Rover’s controller could truly begin the game.
“You know, Aemeath, it’s okay if your best isn’t good enough.”
Aemeath, who was trying to reach over to press the start button on Rover’s controller, looked up in surprise. “Huh?”
“If you’re ever in a situation that’s just too difficult for you at the moment, it’s okay to step back. You don’t have to do everything alone. You can always ask for help, or return to it later when you’re stronger. And there might be another angle you haven’t thought of yet…” Rover added, voice trailing away thoughtfully.
“What are you talking about? That’s why I have you here!” Aemeath pointed out, still confused.
Rover smiled and booped her nose. “Mm, I guess you’re right. Ready?”
“Always!”
===
Aemeath poked her head out of the cabin, watching Rover take on a corrupted Exoswarm. They’d been playing outside, on a rare slightly-less-colder-than-usual day, when a high-pitched electronic screech had startled them both.
“Get inside, now!” Rover had shouted, and stepped in front of a charging Mining Reindeer. She grabbed it by the horns, stopping it from moving any further. It snorted and pawed at the icy ground, roaring in anger. Aemeath had slipped and fallen in trying to run, and now looked up at its metal face, its red unblinking eyes, terrified. “Now, Aemeath!”
“O-okay!” Aemeath had said, and sprinted as fast as her feet would carry her.
But she hadn’t gone in. She was too worried for Rover to simply hide away, and, more so, she was curious to see her fight.
Rover now stood facing off against the Reindeer, sword drawn. It pawed the ground again before bursting forward in a blur of speed. Rover sidestepped it easily and brought her blade up in a deadly arc at the same time. It cleaved through one of the Reindeer’s antlers, severing it at the base. The metal clanged loudly as it fell.
“Yeah!” Aemeath shouted from the door, arms raised.
“Aemeath!” Rover admonished, keeping her guard up. “I said to go inside!”
“I am!” Aemeath said, one foot technically behind her, crossing the doorway’s threshold.
Rover merely shook her head and dodged the next charge. She flipped in the air, driving her sword deep into the Reindeer’s back. Aemeath winced and clapped her hands over her ears at the screeching sound of metal scraping against metal. The Reindeer collapsed, droning in a pained wail, before dissipating.
“That was awesome!” Aemeath cheered, running back towards Rover once she’d given the okay. Rover’s sword vanished, and she turned towards her, arms crossed.
“Aemeath, you need to listen to me when I speak to you. It was dangerous; I told you to go inside for a reason. What if it had fired its mining beam at you?”
“I was mostly inside!” Aemeath protested. Rover glowered. “Okay…” She kicked the dirt with the toe of her boots, scattering snow. She had an idea, and shot her head up. “Wait! Teach me how to fight!”
Rover shook her head. “You’re too young for—”
“No! Look!” Aemeath snatched up a nearby stick and began swinging it in the air. “See? If I’m going to be a hero like you, I should learn how to fight, too! I don’t want to be a coward that hides away in cabins.”
“There’s nothing wrong with hiding from danger,” Rover began, but Aemeath wasn’t having it.
“You’re not going to be here to protect me forever!” Aemeath argued, and pretended not to notice the way Rover’s face fell. “So shouldn’t I learn how to defend myself, too? Especially if I ever do become a Resonator! Then I can help people! And save the world, like you!”
“Aemeath.” Rover knelt down in the snow, placing her hands atop Aemeath’s shoulders. A snowflake landed on the tip of her nose, and Aemeath slowly, carefully, brushed it away with the tip of her stick. “Heh, thank you. But you don’t need to be like me. You don’t have to be a savior. You can be whatever you want.”
What I want? Aemeath chewed on this thought, tilting her head. “Well, what would make you proudest? A chef? A model? Ooh! An animal researcher?”
“What would make me proud,” said Rover, ruffling her hair, “is seeing you living a happy, carefree life. Doing what you want to do, and enjoying every bit of it.”
“That’s not really helpful,” Aemeath said, frowning. “So! Teach me swordmanship!” She began stepping away, swinging her stick wildly.
“Alright, alright. Just as long as you don’t terrorize the local wildlife with it.” Rover took up a stance, and Aemeath followed suit, albeit clumsily. “Here. Let’s call this my first form…”
===
“How do you remember all these steps?” Aemeath crumpled her piece of paper, frustrated. She threw the wad across the room.
“Pick it up, Aemeath. Put that in the trash.”
“It’s too hard!” Aemeath complained as she obeyed. She trudged back to the couch and watched, incensed, as Rover effortlessly folded another paper plane. “And even when I do get it right, it just sinks to the ground! It doesn’t fly like yours!” She punched a couch cushion with her fist, frustration causing tears to well up in her eyes. “I’m too stupid!”
“Hey! Hey,” Rover interrupted gently, poking her nose with the softer edges of her paper plane. “You’re not stupid; don’t say that. It just takes practice. You’ll get it.”
“I won’t!”
“You will. Remember when you first started playing Space Fantasy? You couldn’t even get past the first level, but now you’re almost at the final boss!”
“This is different!”
“Everything takes practice, Aemeath, whether it's video games, cooking, or paper folding. Here. Let me show you again.”
“I bet you never had to practice anything,” Aemeath said as Rover placed two crisp sheets of paper in front of them. “I bet you got everything on the first try.”
“Not true. There are many things I didn’t know how to do.” Rover drew a line bisecting both of their papers, and instructed Aemeath to follow her as she folded. “There are many things I still don’t know how to do.”
“Yeah, right. Like what?”
Rover mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘raising a child,’ but when Aemeath looked at her inquisitively, Rover said aloud, “When I first arrived at Startorch, I was unfamiliar with its motorbikes. I nearly careened off a cliff several times while learning how to ride it.”
Aemeath giggled, now folding little triangles in the top two corners of her paper. The image of her Rover being bad at driving was for some reason very funny. “What else?”
Rover hummed thoughtfully. They both folded the top half of the paper downward, and bent the corners again into two triangles. “In a distant region, I learned how to play a strategy game that involves black and white pieces. It took a long time before I got any good at it.”
A smaller triangle was created to hold the previous ones. Rover folded her page in half again, and Aemeath followed suit.
“And? What else?”
Rover pressed down on the edges of the half-formed wings, smoothing them into proper shapes. “Hmm…”
Aemeath glanced down at her own unfinished plane. It was better than the previous ones, she noted with surprise.
“Oh! Remember when I tried to make you pancakes for your birthday?”
Aemeath grinned, nodding. “It was awful! You had to keep the cabin door open all day to let the smoke out, hehe.” She scrunched her face at the memory, and coughed dramatically. “It smelled awful.”
“See? I can be bad at things too. But I’ve gotten better at making pancakes, right?”
“Yeah. Yours are the best. Ooh, can we have them for dinner tonight?”
“Hm, maybe. Finish your plane first, and we’ll race them.”
Once both their planes were folded, they went outside. Aemeath frowned as Rover took hers, bent the wings at the ends a little, and then gave it back.
“Hey! What did you do?”
“I’m differentiating them,” said Rover, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “How else would we tell whose is whose?”
“Yours looks neater than mine, I think.”
Rover raised her plane, prepared to throw it. “Here’s the bet. If your plane flies farther, we can eat pancakes tonight. If mine does, then I choose. Ready?”
“Please fly super duper far and fast!” Aemeath whispered to her plane, before raising it in the air. “Ready!”
They threw.
Aemeath feasted on the biggest stack of pancakes she’d had yet.
===
Aemeath had stuck to Rover’s leg almost the entire day.
Startorch Academy was so big. There were so many people, far more than there ever had been in Bjartr Woods. There were machines everywhere, not just Exoswarm, and too many buildings to count.
It was scary. Aemeath knew she was going to get lost. But she couldn’t show Rover she was afraid. So she smiled, and nodded, and spoke to all the grownups Rover introduced her to. They showed her where her new room would be, her classes, kids her age, and on and on and on until Aemeath thought her head would explode.
The Reactor Drive’s light had dimmed by the time it was over, and synthetic nighttime blanketed all of Lahai-Roi. Aemeath followed Rover to the edge of the Academy’s grounds, where steel and stone gave way to grasses and native flowers.
“When are you going to come back?” Aemeath blurted.
She’d avoided looking at Rover’s face all day. Anytime she caught glimpses, it was that same stupid expression. That smile that wasn’t really a smile. That look of loneliness in her eyes.
Rover had her back to her, staring off into the distance. Aemeath clenched her fists, and looked up when Rover finally turned around.
Rover looked like she was about to cry. Aemeath hated it.
“I don’t know,” Rover said softly, reaching down to pat her head. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Aemeath refused to sniffle, refused to cry. She wouldn’t. She had to be strong for Rover. Nobody else knew, nobody else saw how sad Rover was. They all thought she was super strong, and she was, but they didn’t understand that she could be weak too.
Rover knelt in the grasses. She reached out and fiddled with the bracelet adorning Aemeath’s wrist: one of Rover’s hairpieces, that she’d bound to some leather cord and given to Aemeath as a gift. “The Academy will take care of you. But you can also go back to live in Bjartr Woods, if you want. I told the faculty to let you choose.”
“And when do you get to choose?!” Aemeath shouted suddenly, stomping her feet. “Why do you always have to save the world? Why can’t somebody else do it? Why—I wish you could stay with me…”
“I know. Me too.” Rover sighed. “This is something only I can do, Aemeath. That’s just how it is. But…I’ll make time to see you, if I can. I promise.”
Aemeath’s eyes widened. “Really? Promise?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I’ll wait for you! Right here!” Aemeath said, jaw set. “I’ll stay here in Lahai-Roi, so you always know where to find me.”
Rover stood up, eyeing the colorful trails wisping across the faux-sky. “You can travel if you want to. There’s a lot to see in the world; don’t feel you have to be stuck here.”
“But if I go somewhere else, we may not find each other again. And you can live for so long…what if I’m dead by the time you come back?”
Rover spun back around, her throat making an odd sort of choking noise. “Aemeath—”
“I’m sorry,” Aemeath interrupted, looking down. “I shouldn’t have said that.
“Aemeath…”
“Just go!” Aemeath yelled. She began pushing against Rover’s legs, hardly propelling her forward. “I know you have to save the world, just go do it!”
A hand atop her head made her stop, and she sniffled as Rover knelt down again. “I know you’re worried about me.”
“You’re always getting hurt, you’re always tired!” Aemeath sniffed again, wiping furiously at her eyes. No crying! Not when Rover was leaving. She wouldn’t have their last memory be tainted by her silly bawling. “I don’t get why you need to do this all the time!”
Rover pulled her into a hug, and Aemeath blinked rapidly, refusing to wet Rover’s shoulder. “When I see people hurt by the Lament,” Rover whispered, her arms tightening, “My heart breaks. I can’t stand idly while people suffer. Their pain is mine, and similarly, so is their joy. That’s why I do this.”
“…then I’ll protect you.”
Rover pulled back, eyebrows raised. “What?”
“I’ll get stronger,” said Aemeath. “You help everybody, but who’s going to help you? When you return, I’ll be a super strong grownup, and then I’ll be able to protect you! And then saving the world won’t be so bad, because you can have me to help!” Aemeath planted her hands on her hips, nodding furiously. “Like Katya from Space Fantasy!”
Rover’s mouth twitched.
“I’m serious!”
“I know, I know. Alright. I’ll be relying on you, then.” Rover reached out and playfully booped Aemeath’s nose. “I’ll be excited to see how you’ve grown.”
===
Aemeath awoke, crumpled in a heap inside the Synchronization Pod. She gasped in relief, then laughed, a little crazed, as she picked herself up.
“Oh, man. Woo!” She shook her head, attempting to banish this residual dizziness. “Wow, who would’ve thought I’d actually be resonating with the Exostrider instead of it being another simulation? Haha!”
I want to save the world. The words on the page burned into her eyelids as she knelt down to scoop up her paper.
Her fingers passed right through.
“Hm?”
She tried again. Nothing. She tried with her other hand. It was as if the paper didn’t exist. Frowning, she stood up, attempting to rest her hand on the Synchronization Chair.
She tripped as her arm vanished into the steel, and she quickly righted herself.
No. It wasn’t as if the paper or chair didn’t exist. She no longer did.
She didn’t exist.
The pod opened, its familiar whirr resounding in her ears. She turned at the sudden influx of noise, as her fellow Synchronists dashed inside, professors following. Their eyes, their bodies, they all passed right through her.
“Where is she?”
“She was just here!”
“Well, she couldn’t have just disappeared!”
“Did she leave?”
“Strange, the pod never stopped showing that it was occupied…”
The chatter continued, confusion rampant, and slowly but surely, Aemeath understood, a sort of resigned dread taking over.
Now, just a few days later, Aemeath sighed, dangling her legs off one of the Academy’s buildings. The Reactor Drive’s rays shone throughout the Academy, and students and faculty milled about, oblivious to the danger that had just passed.
“Would she be proud of me now?” Aemeath whispered to the wind. She had the faintest hope that somehow, her words would carry, but knew it was pointless. She pressed a hand to her heart—not the one that no longer beat, but the one now etched over her Tacet Mark, the only proof of her achievement.
Her body was gone. Her Overclocking had ripped it apart, torn it away, no trace remaining of her existence. Just like her parents—faces and names she no longer remembered. Just like her talisman lost to the deep.
The Academy, it seemed, hadn’t forgotten her. Yet. She was still a missing person’s case, but Aemeath knew that too would vanish. Her digital body might be immune to the effects of Voidspace, but Lahai-Roi was subject to frequent Voidstorms, and it was only a matter of time before other traces of her vanished from the land, and people’s consciousness.
Would she remember me, if she returned? The thought ripped through her, carving a new ache, and she blinked back tears, ones that would never fall or wet the stonework she was sitting on.
There was so much she wanted to tell her. So much she had missed. She wondered how Rover would’ve reacted when she first awakened as a Resonator. Would she be excited? Scared? Would she train her? Tell her to be careful? Take her for frequent frequency checkups like a worrying parent?
Would she be proud that Aemeath was—had been—at the top of her class? That she’d dabbled in every extracurricular? That she’d become so good at riding her motorbike, she was known as the Speed Queen?
Would Rover like her music? Would she play them on repeat until Aemeath groaned in embarrassment? Would she ask to sing along?
Are you proud of me?
A tear splashed onto her leg, breaking her out of her thoughts. Aemeath quickly rubbed her eyes and plastered on a smile. She saved the world! Well, Lahai-Roi, but that was significant! It’s what Rover would’ve wanted, right? She already lived a carefree life, so it was time to don her true responsibilities: protecting this section of Solaris!
And now Voidspace couldn’t harm her! She could find a way to defeat Aleph-1 for good! It was all planned, really. It all worked out!
Aemeath nodded to herself and blinked out of existence, reappearing on Startorch grounds. She hitched a ride on someone’s motorbike as they headed outside, towards the wilds. She changed her ride to a transportation truck and set her sights on a faraway contained Voidstorm, a plan forming in her mind.
Atop the crates the truck was carrying, she twisted, watching Startorch Academy shrink in the distance, its lights growing dim. Her second home.
No. It hadn’t been much of a home without her.
Her smile faltered, and Aemeath whispered to a sky that no longer noticed her.
I wish I could see you again. Just one more time.
…Just once more.