Chapter Text
Harlow Thorne was one of the greatest assets the Aestro Army has ever seen. She was also about to get promoted to Captain. She was also about to let a single girl ruin her entire life; and weirdly, she wouldn’t regret it. Harlow was strange that way.
Kylie was strange that way.
The whole world seemed to revolve around the Army. Whether it was a privilege or a curse to be a part of it was another thing. The question crossed everyone’s mind. Harlow had summersweet memories to accompany the bad ones, and she always doubted it could be any other way. Lately, her memories were muddled with the questions of necromancy. It was a new program Aestro introduced, where people could be brought back from the dead or communicated with in passing. She liked the idea of being immortal, but what was there to live for? Nothing here, she was sure of.
Now, Harlow found herself walking down the hallway of a palace she wished she could live in. The stained glass walls were something to compare to her dirty dorm room and literally every single other room she had clearance in. She had been given a paper with a list of instructions, along with a humming trinket that felt dangerously warm in her hand. She ran through the instructions as she approached Room #66.
When you arrive at Room #66, prepare. Newly resurrected initiates are often hard to win over if you don’t look authoritative, so fix your hair or something.
Surely Director Soh wasn’t kidding? Harlow scoffed at the silly request, but fixed up her braid anyway. She also adjusted her small robe, emblazoned with the symbol of Aestro. The star inside the icon seemed to be mocking Harlow. All she worked for, and her final task was to babysit. Sighing, she reached for the doorhandle, only to be rejected by a strong static shock. She yelped and cautiously examined the tattoos on her hand. Still stable. This time, she pulled out her Aestro ID and inserted it into the keyhole. Nothing. She began to doubt the Army’s belief in her competence. Before she could try again, the humming object flew towards the door and… broke into several shards.
Was it supposed to do that?
Suddenly, the door fell apart as well. It crumbled, the pieces fading out of sight. She stepped inside quickly and ignored the ominous sound of the door reassembling with a thud behind her. Where was the light switch… She called a light orb to her tattooed palm–and had to muffle a scream.
The initiate.
A pale girl her age lay unconscious on the floor, her chest rising and falling peacefully. Her freckles were scattered across her nose, which was framed by her wispy hair. It must be the soul. This girl had really died before? Hiding her awe at Aestro’s necrotic department, Harlow fumbled with the file again.
Do not be alarmed at the state of the initiate. They will wake up once you do the following.
Okay… before she did anything she took a moment to further examine the state of the initiate. She looked tired, and she heard her mutter something under her breath in a language she didn’t understand. Wait, she was getting ahead of herself. For Sky’s sake, this is definitely gibberish.
She finally obeyed the instructions and summoned energy. It sparked in her hands, and she had to resist the urge to somehow drop it. Focus. Thrusting it upon the girl’s chest, she immediately began coughing, her body reeling as blood spilled out of her mouth. Harlow jumped and scrambled to fix her error. This was an error, right? The soul lurched forward, but Harlow caught her before her head bashed against the cold stone floor. The girl’s eyes opened with a wince as they focused sleepily on Harlow’s figure.
The cadet sputtered, “Uh, I’m so sorry about earlier– I have no idea what I’m doing, you see, I’m Cadet Harlow Thorne– about to be Captain Harlow Thorne, and, uh, to be that I have to… train you to fight? For the Army, sorry, I don’t really know what’s happening. Do you? Are you okay?” That was a bit much. “Sorry.”
The pale girl had color come back into her face as she giggled. Her voice was as close to a bell as Harlow could imagine a human physically mustering. “You say sorry a lot, Cadet Harlow.” She thought for a moment before pointing toward a badge on her hospital tunic, staring at it intently. Harlow hadn’t noticed it before.
Initiate #66E “Kylie”
Kylie beamed gleefully. “Are you my new ‘soul-mate’?
Harlow nodded softly, trying to ignore the gentle flutter in her rigid chest.