Fate weaver’s convergence

It was evening, and Krakow's main shaft was illuminated by countless flames lit throughout its floors. It was mostly quiet, as well, Beryl and Vaughn both leaving me to my lonesome at my behest. I urged them to go downstairs to apologize to Sabine, regardless if they or I thought that she was owed one. They promised to return after dinner, reasoning that we could discuss the matter in the morning after a night's rest in a soft bed. 

 

I should shower.

 

I felt at my now healed lip, and looked down at the dried blood stained into my clothes.

 

Step one, the same as Earth. Do something simple, and build yourself up from there. You can do it.

 

I slowly rose from the bed. I thought nothing of it, throwing myself into the act, prioritizing the routine more than my thoughts. I dropped my belts, then the gambison, then tugged my boots free of my feet. 

 

I should buy some spare clothes here.

 

I tugged at the hem of my hide pants, the material clinging to me from sweat and days of use. They weren't dirty beyond their usual wear, but felt oddly constricting since I’d woken.

 

I have another pair, but these aren't the best for relaxing.

 

I moved for the shower, posting myself at the sink. A warm set of towels, coarse but usable, was placed on its rim. I dropped my pants, kicking them to the side and out of the doorway. The bodysuit followed after, falling around my feet as I pulled it below my chest. In hindsight, that was the first moment of oddity. I let my hair down, tossing the scrunchy I used into the sink as I turned the two brass knobs, releasing the flow of cool water and allowing it to wash over my body. 

 

Clean, I need to be clean. Then?

 

My stomach grumbled, my hand trailing to cover my midsection in a bid to stave off the hunger pains. 

 

Food, when was the last I ate? Breakfast? I didn't even grab anything from a stall earlier to snack on. 

 

I held my stomach, looking down. 

 

Fuckin hunger pains, never change, never will. I guess I’ve got that going for me. 

 

That was the key moment the first thought washed over me like the water running down my horns, through my hair, and over my skin. The sudden lack of anxiety in myself, in my body, at even seeing myself naked. For the longest time, I lived reality with two known facts. First, that this body was not mine, and I should treat it as such; with respect and decency. The second is that I had to accept my entrapment within. I was not a man anymore; I was a girl, and that entailed everything that followed. The one I couldn't stand was the most obvious anytime I saw my reflection, my chest. Now, here I stood, water washing over me, stark naked. I didn't feel self-conscious, no sense of amorality from staring at a naked girl who may as well have been half the age of my mind. I didn't feel anything, anything, except that it was my own body, and that was it.

 

What happened to me? 

 

I sifted back through my memories. Unbroken, with no space in between. Spliced together, like some horrible piece of film. The same as years ago, the same as I expected, and accompanied by answers to questions I didn't even know I needed nor wanted. 

 

So is that why Solah put me here?

 

I looked up to the wall, tile, and lime rock plastered together with a small indentation for soaps and rags. I grabbed a bar, carving a few moderately sized slivers away with my fingernails before placing it back. I squeezed my hand closed, the soap losing its form as it became a thick paste under the stream of water.

 

I can’t say I expected different from my meddling, ko. That would have been too naive.

 

I smeared the soap, lightly scrubbing with my palm everywhere it would matter. Underneath my breasts, my groin, my armpits, my back, my feet. 

 

Count the blessings. I can bathe in peace, I can look at myself in peace.

 

I glimpsed past the curtains, at my bag, partially visible past the door frame. 

 

And I don’t feel the need for the bindings anymore, I think. That’ll mean mama won’t pester me about them again.

 

I lathered my hands together, the lack of shampoo limiting what I could run through my hair. It was better than neglecting the care that Beryl seemed to adhere to religiously. A few stray strands fell as I ran my fingers into my hair, combing through it. They glistened in the light, their vibrant reddish-purple hue glistening with the lamp light. My mind went back to Beryl for a moment afterward, watching her groom herself, content with that being our evenings. 

 

Will she notice?

 

I combed my hair once more, the oils from the soap making the effort much easier now. 

 

Or Vaughn?

 

I lowered my hands, slowly kneeling, then dropping to my rear as I leaned against the wall. 

 

The change, ko? Ko, that shit. It’s like the slang is natural to me. And the accent, I’ll have to work to beat it down.

 

I lowered my head, looking down at myself once more as I perched my elbows across my knees.

 

It took Sabine all of half of what, twenty minutes? Those two have known you their entire lives. And here you are, betraying their trust, hoping you can lie to them long enough to dump someone who probably won’t even recognize them into their lap. 

 

A memory from Earth.

 

And atop that, you know, the same thing that scared you half to death, it's still out there. 

 

I held back the urge to slam at the tile floor, realizing the base was possibly wood. I, instead, bit at my knuckle, the bitter taste of soap spreading across my tongue.

 

We keep circling back to that, don’t we–

 

I bit harder, the fear was more visceral now, more real.

 

Distractions. We– I. I need distractions. This whole time, I was given them, trying to find out why I was here, trying to give this life back. And here I am, with no more an answer given, that my life is repeating itself– the tests, the fucking tests, failing them. Is it for that? As with earth and the tests there?

 

I released my knuckle, straightening a leg ahead of me as the heel slid across the floor.

 

“I thought it was for her to heal, wasn’t it?”

 

I asked aloud, no one answering except the muffled conversations of those down stairs.

 

“You put me here, and I know you talked to them! To her! You put me here, and you choose to ignore me. I have her memories, all of them, and here I am with no direction.”

 

Venom filled each word, intended for a goddess who I knew could be listening. Who could very well just be standing in front of me. 

 

I chuckled, nearly sliding the rest of the way onto the ground. 

 

“And you– hah– you fucking expect me to do something? With what?”

 

I held out my hands, looking up as if I were just some pet in a cage.

 

“I barely survived the first time! Sure, I’m pretty fuckin durable. Sure, I have some super strength. But how am I supposed to combat that? If their entire keep couldn't hold those- those- monsters at bay? What makes you think I can?! I have her memories! I know Mother had–

 

I placed my posted hand against my head, grabbing onto one of my horns and clenching it. I waved the opposite hand in the air, talking to a damned shower head as it drenched me in its rain. My distinction between what was my own emotions or thoughts was eroding with the memories melding together. I had a clear sense of who and what I was, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to differentiate the memories as solely kiyomi's.

 

 “Her mother had these same abilities, and here I sit, alone.”

 

I frowned at those words, a sense of sadness at acknowledging Elexis’s death. If Juro, as well as the rest of my– our– her kin, were dead, how could mo– Elexis be any different?

 

“Sarah is alive, but will she recognize me? Hatsumi, Callum, Beryl, Vaughn, Lorn, Stannis, Chessa, Avery. Meeting and getting to know someone new, that’s easy. Square one. But someone that knew her?”

 

I shook my head as I dropped it again. 

 

And for fuck sake, could I leave them to her? Even if I could give it all back, could I do it in good conscience, knowing that I’d be leaving them to the wolves?

 

Another memory. ‘Orion's Seraphim, his angels.’ I gritted my teeth. 

 

“Especially knowing that those were his doing. That Orion brought them back.”

 

I was silent, remembering the Bulette. It was something convenient, something that was close, something that naturally occurred here. A semi-intelligent monster. The fact that Orion made a direct attempt on their lives. On my life. Then, atop it all, Kiyomi’s life, with the return of the monsters I thought left behind on earth.

 

Is it that necessary? For me to be here? Would any of this matter if I were gone? Would they be safe?

 

I tried to stifle my own denial, of my own history, with my experience, considering the memories of the festival. There was another odd revelation to myself. The sense of distinction blurs again. 

 

I don't care about myself anymore, about her… about her being my first and foremost consideration. 

 

I curled up, pulling my knees into my chest, the breasts hurting as I did. 

 

I care about them more than her. About Beryl and Vaughn, why?

 

“What is your plan? Dropping me into this life like it would do her so much better.”

 

I tried to will the thought forth, the active effort to care about passing the torch, the daydream of giving Kiyomi her life back and maybe getting to watch her accept it happily. That thought, as simple as it was, as much as I can remember wanting it, didn't feel real anymore. In its place, fell a more intense urge to protect Beryl and Vaughn both.

 

They’re my friends. Of course, I would care about them. But, it’s different now? Further.

 

I hugged my legs tighter. 

 

I don’t need her additional feelings atop my own. Not when our memories are spliced the way they are. If I’m changed enough for my speech to be different, can I count on my perspective to be unhindered?

 

Beryl came across my mind, her talk of healing some nights prior.

 

She’s been worried about us not being able to heal each other; she coddles me for it. Or, she has a greater sense of preservation for us? She was going to look for other medical knowledge, for herbal remedies, and potions. 

 

Then Vaughn, his idle perusing and contemplation on the timetables, resource numbers, and measurements of his father's plans.

 

He’s gonna have it tough the next few days, isn’t he? The work left over by his father?

 

Standing, I ran the water through my hair, letting it rinse the remaining suds out before cutting the flow with the knobs.

 

I could– I could focus on him the next couple of days, couldn't I?

 

I thought over how much he loved his work, his designing and working with the numbers and resources. 

 

And he was dreading it, that it would extend our stay. It was that bad of a fuck up on Greggor’s part.

 

I grabbed the towel, driving home my lost reservations as I dried myself in front of the mirror. 

 

You wanted answers? You got them, bitch ass. Wait–

 

“Hm?”

 

I leaned closer to the mirror, looking over my horns as I dried my hair. 

 

They seem dull? Or, no, molting? That’s a first. 

 

Loose flakes were forming along the few segments on their surface, drawing a sigh from me. 

 

“I should look after myself more. I’ve been neglecting this– thing– for however long, for all the talk I seem to try and make myself believe that I care.”

 

I pecked at one with a nail, the piece prying free to expose the fresh horn underneath. Water had gotten through the worn exterior, and the difference of temperature had broken the seal. 

 

It is keratin, after all, and requires the same care as nails or hair. 

 

A knock at the door broke me from my focus on them, startling me. 

 

“Whoo’zit?”

 

Whaaat the fuck? What was that accent? Was that what Sabine was confused by?

 

“It’s Mizzel, I brought you dinner.”

 

Dinner? I was–

 

My stomach growled again.

 

I do need to eat dinner, I did say that earlier.

 

“One moment, I’m not decent.”

 

I shook my head, pushing the thought from my mind. I pulled the bodysuit up my waist, tucking my breasts back into it as I threw the shoulder straps back on. Then, stepping through the legs of my pants, I slid them over it, realizing all too much I didn't have the luxury of a tunic to give me ease of travel in this state. Opening the door, the smell of beef stew filled my nose, and my mouth watered.

 

“Thanks guys, I–”

 

I looked at the person holding the bowl, one I’d not expected but was welcome all the same. 

 

“They said it’d be better, ko. If I brought you this, instead of one of them. On the account of events earlier, if you were still wanting to be alone.”

 

It was Mizzel, sheepishly holding the wooden bowl of food in her hands atop a cloth. 

 

“I got you some extra meat, shared some of the liver I grilled, and even used some of the bone to make bone gold.”

 

She seemed keen to make an impression, stuttering slightly. 

 

“Bone gold?”

 

I looked down at the bowl, on the toasted bread, and stuck to the side was a slightly greasy, off white substance. It looked almost like rendered fat from a steak.

 

“Cooked bone marrow, baked it after splitting what we had when I processed the meat. It’s- ah-, good for these.”

 

She tapped her horns.

 

“Us demon women, in some circles, it's considered a thing of beauty, to keep them healthy. Tastes good, too, though, if that's just from us being preferential carnivores? I’m not sure.”

 

I looked back at her.

 

She really hadn’t met another aside from her grandmother or mother?

 

I thought a moment.

 

I could use the extra experience on self care, I don't exactly know anyone else with horns. Never have tried bone marrow before, anyhow.

 

“I’m sorry, I’ll take it out.”

 

She seemed to take to a dejected tone in her voice, taking my silence for a rejection of the meal.

 

“No, I’ll try it. I’m... sorry. It’s been a long day. Mizzel, right?”

 

I opened the door the rest of the way, placing my hands under hers and letting her slide them from under the cloth. 

 

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to savor it.”

 

Mizzel nodded, smiling as I accepted the bowl.

 

“I should be going then, if you can bring the bowl down in the morning?”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

She turned, making for the stairs.

 

“Ah, wait.”

 

Mizzel turned, raising a brow as she waited for any last requests.

 

“Could we, perhaps–”

 

I sighed. 

 

C’mon, baby steps here. Want to learn? Ask.

 

“Do you think you could teach me about them tomorrow?”

 

I motioned to my horns.

 

“Maybe help with this molting? Shedding? I haven’t really been caring for them as of late.”

 

The request did the trick, coaxing an even wider smile than before.

 

“Ko, sure as the sun rises.”

 

Perfect, I’ll be out of Beryl and Vaughn’s hair, hopefully. They’ll take it as a return to normalcy if they see it, too. Getting myself pampered… That is a weird way to put it. Never thought of something like that before.