I can't guarantee they'll be good words though

Follows after this

No one said a word as Sam removed the message. He absently handed the bird to Suzu, who passed it to Luka. As Luka’s fingers smoothed over the feathers, rubbing the blood away, Suzu tried to read the message over Sam’s shoulder. But even on her tiptoes it was too high up. Was the man that much taller than her?

And of course, Sam did not read the message allowed.

Frustrated, Suzu watched Sam’s face instead. The look on his face grew grimmer and grimmer. The color drained away until he was almost as white as a sheet. When he had, presumably, reached the end, he stared off across the water.

Suddenly his fist tightened on the sheet of paper and he smashed it into a ball. Suzu thought he would throw it out into the waves, but after a pause he tossed it down the length of the boat and strode into the cabin, slamming the wooden door behind him.

Suzu retrieved the paper, unrolling it and flattening it against the side of the railing.

“What does it say?” Luka asked, still petting the bird.

“Do not come this way,” Suzu read aloud. “It is a trap. I don’t have time to explain, even in writing. The Knights are here, but the Mechanic has left for the next location. Flee there. Stay safe.” There were some strange characters, ones she did not recognize. A code maybe? There was no signature.

“I see,” Luka said.

“How did you know?” Suzu asked. She glanced over her shoulder. There was a smashing sound from the cabin but the door stayed closed.

“It was the dream,” Luka said. “It felt so real, as if I were living it. We went to the base. It seemed okay at first. But there were no people inside. You wanted to leave but Sam made us stay and look around. He said there were… hiding spots that his friends might be using.”

Luka shifted the bird to his shoulder, where it seemed completely happy to stay. Now free, his hands fisted in his shirt and he slid down to sit on the deck. Suzu sat next to him.

“There were people there. Knights. And they killed him.” A shuddering breath and then, “And you.” Suzu tried to press herself closer, to remind Luka that nothing had happened. Because of him.

“They killed both of you. And not me. And then I woke up.”

“How did you know it wasn’t just a nightmare?” Suzu said. “How did you know it was real?”

“I didn’t,” Luka said. “But I wanted to make sure. What would have been the worst that would have happened if I was wrong? We might have been a little late. And if I was…”

Suzu wrapped him in a hug. The bird on his shoulder grumbled before settling back down.

There are various types of exes, as anyone with a track record can tell you. The best ones are the ones you can still be friends with. This is especially important if you share friends. Then there are the ones you just don’t talk to anymore. There are the ones you break up with because you catch them cheating on you.

And then there are the ones who accept a contract on your life and try to kill after the best round of sex in your entire life.

To be fair, Watanuki’s relationship with Doumeki was based out of quite a lot of… aggression. The sex had been an accident at first and had simply become another form of battle. Watanuki had liked to maintain that he would always come out victorious, but then Doumeki would do that deadpan snort and another… battle… would commence.

Watanuki had known from the start that Doumeki’s job was less-than-legal. He known that it involved lots of weapons and also a fair amount of dead bodies. If they hadn’t been schoolmates, Doumeki wouldn’t have been the type of person Watanuki would talk to.

But Doumeki mostly kept his business to himself and Watanuki could sometimes forget that his boyfriend killed people for a living and they made due.

And then it came out that Watanuki was an esper.

It wasn’t like he had been keeping it from Doumeki on purpose. It just… hadn’t ever come up. Just like Doumeki didn’t talk about his work, Watanuki didn’t talk about that fact that his employer/teacher was Ichihara Yuuko – the most infamous free esper in the world.

When had Doumeki made the decision? Watanuki hadn’t noticed any reaction when his powers came up for the first time, but then, he hadn’t been looking for it.

Doumeki had seemed interested, which was a normal reaction. Not necessarily the most common, but normal.

(The most common reaction was the screaming, the calling of the espers hunters. Watanuki had become an expert on running away, on appearing at a new orphanage with no memory and gee wasn’t that a shame.

Then he had met Yuuko and she had taken him in and he had thought for a moment that maybe he could stop running.)

It was normal for Doumeki to ask questions about his powers. It was normal to want to meet the teacher who had done so much for him. It was normal to stay the night.

It wasn’t normal to wake up with a spelled blade to his throat.

Watanuki had only survived because Yuuko was Yuuko.  The shop was a building but it was also a living thing that hadn’t taken kindly to one of its humans being attacked. Neither had Yuuko.

Watanuki didn’t remember much of what happened. There had been a whoosh and then he was surrounded by wood and epser magic both. There had been sounds, explosions, then silence.

Watanuki had been forced to run, but he had Yuuko and Makona and Maru and Moro with him this time, so he wasn’t leaving anything behind.

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Series: Horizon Zero Dawn Pairing: Aloy/Avad Rating: G

Aloy continues to explore the world, pushing the boundaries of everything the tribes know. Still, she finds herself coming back to Meridian.

Avad's feelings change, but do not disappear. He gives Aloy a gift, a hope for the future.

Read on AO3

The thing about relative peace, Avad finds, is that it involves a lot of paperwork.

Not that running the Carja Empire has ever been easy. But Avad had thought – hoped naively apparently – that maybe peace would be different. He no longer had to worry about the shadow Carja. (Itamen is safe and a knot in Avad’s chest had gone away when he saw his little brother at Aloy’s side that day.) And they are more at peace with the other tribes than they have ever been in the history of the Carja.

Perhaps that’s part of the problem. Peace means trade, which means trade treaties. Trade means the mixing of cultures, often in explosive ways. Sometimes it is people from outside tribes but often it is the Carja at fault. And every last dispute seems to end up in Avad’s lap.

When he can no longer stand to look at the piles of paperwork on his desk, he excuses himself to the bathroom. Murad gives him a Look but allows it. Perhaps he sensed how close Avad was to eating his quill so he wouldn’t be able to sign anything ever again.

Avad’s favorite place in the whole palace is Lower Gardens. There is just something so calming about being surround by life that demands nothing of him. Perhaps Itamen is done with his lessons by now and Avad will run into him. He’s seen his brother multiple times since Itamen was returned, but it feels like it will never be enough.

But when he approaches the entrances to the Gardens, it is Erend’s voice he hears. For a moment Avad considers turning back. Erend probably wants something. Everyone always does.

But that’s not fair to Erend, who has been a constant and loyal supporter. He’s not Ersa, but in some ways that’s a good thing. Marad has heard, which means in turn that Avad has heard, the gossip that paints Erend as a bumbling oaf. It makes the nobles underestimate Erend’s skills, which can only be a good thing. No one has said anything to Erend yet so Avad is content to let it lie for now.

But a female voice responds. A familiar female voice that makes Avad’s heart clench. And if he takes the last few steps into the Garden at some speed, at least he knows the guards will never say anything.

He’d lived in Tokyo with a few foster families before, but since they were doing the tourist thing – hitting things like Tokyo Tower and the Imperial Palace - Natsume wasn’t too worried about running into them.

With that worry officially reason away, Natsume found himself trailing at the back of their group, trying to smother laughs at the way Kitamoto, Nishimura, and Tunama kept craning their necks back, trying to see the tops of Tokyo’s skyscrapers.

They stopped on a corner because Nishimura insisted the map said to go one way but Taki, having visited Tokyo before, said that he was wrong and getting them lost. Natsume , having lost track of where they were actually headed and therefore having no opinion himself, found himself wandering further down the street. He caught sight of Tanuma and Kitamoto doing the same as passersby began to turn to look.

Because was Tokyo and Natsume wasn’t worried about getting lost, he didn’t pay attention to where his feet were taking him until he turned into a building and a sharp shock shot up his spine. Nyanko-sensei hissed but didn’t leave his shoulder.

Natsume knew a barrier when he felt one at that point.

The building in front of him did not belong in downtown Tokyo. Unlike the buildings on either side, it was short and traditional with (for Tokyo) a sprawling garden out front. Had it been anywhere else, Natsume would have assumed it was someone’s house.

Then the door opened and two young girls peaked their heads out. And Natsume started to panic.

“I’m so sorry for intruding. I was just wandering and my feet took me here by themselves. I’m sorry, I’ll just be going-“

“We have a customer!” one of the girls, the one with pink hair, said.

“We have a customer!” the other, with long blue pigtails repeated.

And before Natsume can protest, they take him by the hands and drag him inside.

Two kids should not be that strong, he thought to himself, even as he continued to apologize. His first instinct was to assume they were some form of youkai, but Nyanko-sensei was still perched on his shoulders. He hadn’t attacked the girls, so they had to be human, right?

“A customer for the Master!”

“For the Master!”

Natsume was struck by their similarities to the Chukyuu. Finally they stopped outside a paper sliding door. They dropped his hands and, each taking a side, pulled the doors open.

Whatever it was Natsume had expected, it wasn’t what he saw.

There was a boy, not much older than Natsume himself, setting two places at a round table. Even from there, Natsume could smell the delicious food. The boy’s back was to him. When he turned around, Natsume was startled by his eyes – one blue, one gold.

“Please have a seat,” the boy said with a gesture to the closest chair.

“I’m sorry, I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding. I didn’t mean to come here you see.”

“It was no mistake,” the boy said, taking his own seat and a sip of tea. “It is always hitsuzen.”

“Hitsuzen…?”

“Mm.” The boy took another sip of his tea. After a moment, he said, “You have a wish, don’t you?”

A wish…

Not long ago, Natsume’s greatest wish was to stop being able to see youkai. But now he had more youkai friends than human ones and Natsume couldn’t imagine his life without Nyanko-sensei or Misuzu or Hinoe or any of his other friends.

Nor did he wish for foster parents who wouldn’t hate him. The Fujiwara were the best and most wonderful people Natsume had ever met. Even though he was not their blood son, they continued to worry after him and take care of him and make him bentou to take to school.

He even had human friends! It was not something Natsume had ever expected but Tanuma, Taki, Sasada, Nishimura, and Kitamoto were always at his side if he ever needed them. He had even met Natori-san, who could see the same world that Natsume could. It was almost like having an older brother (especially the annoying, won’t-leave-you-alone part).

No, what Natsume wanted more than anything…

“There are people who I want to be able to protect,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“I see,” the boy said. He set his tea down and leaned forward, looking up at Natsume over the rims of his glasses. “And are you prepared to pay the price for that power?”

“Pay?”

“Yes. This is a store after all,” the boy said. “A store that grants wishes.”

“For a price.”

“Yes. The bigger the wish, the more it will cost. I’m afraid that’s just common sense, wouldn’t you agree?”

This boy was setting off all of Natsume’s warning signs. And still, Nyanko-sensei was sitting silent on his shoulders. Natsume longed to ask what his protector thought, but it hadn’t been confirmed yet that this boy could see spirits. Someone else could have put up the barrier after all.

But if the boy could do what he claimed, wasn’t it worth the risk? To not have to worry about his friends and the Fujiwaras? To be able to protect his youkai friends from exorcists like Matoba?

“What would the price be?” Natsume asked.

“What you are seeking will take some time,” the boy said. “You will need to come back every few weeks for lessons.”

“Lessons?”

“No one could afford the price of instantaneous power,” the boy said. “No, you’ll have to work for it.”

“What kind of lessons?”

“A bit of this, a bit of that.”

It was impossible to try and get a straight answer out of the other boy. Like trying to catch mist, he kept dangling Natsume’s answers just out of reach.

“And the price?”

“Now that is the interesting question, isn’t it?” the boy said. He got up and came close, stopping a short distance in front of Natsume. “What do you think you might have that is worth the kind of power you are seeking?”

And just like that, Natsume knew. From Nyanko-sensei’s sudden claws digging into his shoulder, he knew too.

“I can’t give you the Book of Friends,” Natsume said. “I’ve already promised it to someone.”

“There aren’t many names left in there at this point, are there?” the other boy said. “Certainly not enough to pay for your wish.”

“There will be nothing at all by the time I get it,” Nyanko-sensei grumbled.

Natsume hushed him on instinct, but the other boy didn’t seem surprised at all to hear a weird cat speak.

That answered the question about the wards then.

“I propose a trade,” the boy said.

“A trade?”

“Of knowledge. You are more famous than you know, Natsume Takashi. Your name is known throughout the spirit world as one who can be trusted. It is rare that a human is trusted in such a way.”

“Then you’re not…” Natsume couldn’t bring himself to finish.

“I am simply myself,” the boy said. “And what I propose is this – you will share with me the stories of your contacts with the spirit world. And in turn, I will teach you what I know about spirit and the rules that govern them.”

Natsume thought about it. Was there anything that would be dangerous to share?

“Okay,” he said after a moment.

One of his captains approached him, the man’s helmet giving the appearance of a man with a horse’s mane.  Behind the man were three others, one with a similar helmet, the other two garbed in simple, sturdy armor.

“Your orders, sir?” the captain asked.

The commander sighed, never taking his eyes off the battlefield.  He took a moment to formulate some kind of strategy before speaking.

“Captain, take your men down and circle around to the west.  Attack their right flank.  You, do the same on their left.  Lieutenants, charge the front lines.  This should break their formation.”  The men saluted before filing off silently.

The commander fidgeted as he watched the soldiers move out.  He twirled a strand of hair between his fingers as he absently observed his troops’ movements.

A sudden cry came from the front lines.  A small troop clad in shining white armor pierced his defensive lines.  Though his Lieutenants tried to stop them, the enemy broke through with ease and continued to press on to the commander’s tent.

A call brought his personal guard to him.  With increasing tension, the commander and his men waited, watching the enemy get closer and closer to the main camp.  When the white soldiers finally pushed through the last of his soldiers, the commander knew that the battle was lost.

But even as he tried to pull his men back, the white riders thundered through camp, swinging the swords left and right, felling what remained of the commander’s men.  Cries from the battlefield and from the camp filled the air.

With a sigh, the commander came forward to meet the enemy knights. The lead knight met him, his helmet visor up, revealing his face.  A smug smirk was stretched across it.

“Checkmate.”

“Merde.”

“Leon.  Language.”

Leon huffed, not taking his gaze from his grandfather, who sat comfortably across the chessboard from him.  Henri Julian smiled gently at his only grandson.

“It was a good match, petit-fils,” the old man said as he began to gather the chess pieces.

Leon watched silently for a bit before he moved with a sigh to help his grandfather.  They worked silently, and it was only after the chess pieces were set in their place in the velvet-lined case that Leon spoke again.

“Grandfather, have you ever lost?”

“Of course, Leon.  Everyone loses at one point or another,” Henri said.

“Don’t listen to your grandfather, Leon.  I have never seen him lose a chess match.  Though it has been a while since he’s played anyone besides you.”

Leon’s mother was a stunning, aristocratic beauty.  With long black hair that flowed down her back in exquisite curls and sparkling blue eyes, she looked like what Leon thought a princess must look like.

“Merrie, don’t give Leon such ideas.  I have lost against many different men.”

“That was back when chess was played simply for fun, wasn’t it Grandfather?” Leon asked curiously.  His grandfather nodded absently.

“Yes.  How many years has it been?”  A shadowed look came to his tired old blue eyes.

“Leon, off to school with you,” his mother said suddenly.  “You promised to leave when I asked if your grandfather played a game with you.”

Leon grumbled under his breath but moved obediently to get ready for school.

Once in his room, Leon shuffled over to his closet, pulling out the forest green uniform that was required by Joseph’s School for Boys.  The slacks Leon pulled on were a stone grey that matched his tie, while the jacket, adorned with the school’s crest, was slipped on over a white polo.

A few minutes were spent in front of the mirror, putting short black locks in perfect order.  Then Leon grabbed his school bag, gave his cat Apollo an absent-minded farewell, and strode downstairs.

“Mother, Grandfather, I’m leaving!” he called out as he closed the door behind him.

“Yeah,” Alphonse whispered back into the small mic clipped to his shirt.  “Is it clear?”

“Wait for a few more minutes,” Nathan replied.  “They just changed guards so the off-duty guards will be coming your way.  Make sure you’re not in sight.”

“Right.”

Sara rolled her eyes, muttering something about paranoid, controlling bastards who got off on telling everyone what to do.  When she noticed Alphonse watching her, she blushed.

“Shove off,” she mouthed at him.  He grinned.

“You know I can hear you,” Nathan said.  “Polite ladies don’t talk like that Sara.”

“I should be submissive and meek then?” Sara said.

“On second thought, don’t.  The world might implode.”

“Can we go now?” Alphonse said, dragging them back on track.

“Sure.  Whatever.  You’ve got the spray I gave you?”

“Yeah,” Sara said, pulling out the aerosol can.  “Now are you going to tell us what it is?”

“It’s a sleeping gas.  Careful about using it.  If you inhale too much, it’ll put you right to sleep too.”

“Couldn’t you have thought of a better way to make this work so that it wasn’t a danger to us?” Sara said.

“Nothing that would work efficiently.  Not on such short notice.”

“Shut up and move,” Alphonse said, nudging Sara forward.

The building had looked exactly like every other one on the street.  It was supposed to be a storehouse for potentially dangerous chemicals before they went to labs for testing.  The guards, supposedly, were to prevent people from entering a potentially dangerous area.

There was a whole underground complex beneath the building’s surface structure.  They had decided that the underground portion must be where the chips were stored.  It was what had drawn them to the property in the first place.  Unfortunately, they had been unable to locate the building plans for the underground section.  Once they actually got inside, Sara and Alphonse would have to wing it.

There were a couple of close calls, but nothing too terrible.  There were actually far fewer guards than the payroll records had suggested.  It made Alphonse nervous, but Sara just waved it off and commented on their luck.

“This is it,” Nathan said in his ear.  “After this point, you’re on your own.  The signal from the transceiver will probably get cut off.  I think the floor plating has some lead in it.  Will you be okay?”

“If we’re not back by sunrise, assume we’ve been caught,” Sara replied.  “You might have to move the resistance headquarters if Alphonse spills the location.”

“You know where it is too!” Alphonse said.  “What makes you think I’ll say something?”

“Because you’re a wimp,” Sara said matter-of-factly.

“Let’s just go,” Alphonse said.  As he reached to turn the door handle, his hand brushed the mall handgun at his side.  In preparation for this, Sara and Nathan had given him shooting lessons and now he could hit what he aimed at, providing that it wasn’t moving or too far away.  Alphonse had no plans to use it, but he agreed to take it to make Sara and Nathan feel better.

The basement was surprisingly well lit.  Alphonse had been expecting dark hallways with single light bulbs struggling to chase away the darkness.  Now that he thought about, it was probably a pretty stupid idea.  The Hands would have just as much trouble moving around in the dark as they would.

Unfortunately, this made their going terribly slow.  They had to make sure they chose paths that were absolutely clear.  The Hands weren’t blind idiots.  They checked each door they went by, once they had been assured that it was empty.  There were a lot of offices and closets.  They found the mess hall.

It had been a frighteningly intelligent killer wearing his sister’s face peering at him from the doorway as he left on yet another “errand”.  Ms. Morrison had been standing behind her but the elderly woman had not been looking at the departing Simon, but the girl next to her.  Sara hadn’t noticed the look on Ms. Morrison’s face but Simon had and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to ask Ms. Morrison for help again.

He almost turned around and went back.  He almost couldn’t stand the thought of leaving his baby sister in the clutches of someone who was, at best, terrified of her or, at worst, disgusted by her.  Sara was only eight, but she wasn’t an idiot and sometime over the course of the last year she had become an expert at reading people.  Sara would see though Ms. Morrison’s act and respond in kind.  The house would probably still be standing, but Ms. Morrison would not be so lucky.

But he was doing this for Sara, to try and understand what had happened to her and to try and fix the cracks in her that were so evident that even an old spinster could pick up on them.  He wanted his baby sister back.  And if he had to leave her alone in order to fix her for good, well then that was an exchange he was willing to make.

And if he was being perfectly honest, Sara unnerved him too.  She hadn’t, right after the accident.  Sure, she was able to take down that adult, male pickpocket that had stolen Simon’s wallet.  And maybe her sudden fascination with knives was dangerous.  But it wasn’t until Sara killed a rabid dog with a carelessly tossed kitchen knife that Simon felt the horror growing in him.  Sara hadn’t given the snarling beast more than a single glance before she picked up the knife she had been cooking with and threw it between the crowd so that it sunk into the dog’s forehead.  She had been so casual about it.  It was a dog, but it could have been a log, a hunk of meat.

Another child.  Simon himself.

Simon reasoned with himself.  He knew that Sara would never – could never – attack him or any other human being.  The dog had been dangerous.  It had been a threat.  There had been more than a few men that now bore scars from its fangs.  Sara had done a good thing.

But then he would wonder she would have done if that pickpocket had pulled a weapon.  Or if their landlord got a bit more forceful about collecting their rent.

Simon had seen the rifle in the man’s house.  It was polished and shiny, obviously well-used.  Simon didn’t know for what and he would like to keep it that way, but the man had been more aggressive lately and with the way Sara went quiet whenever he came to call, Simon thought he had a cause to be worried.

He had tried over the past year but Sara had shown no progress.  Another night of pain would make no difference.  Sara could take care of herself and Simon had thrown out all of their knives and he had a job to do.

Nathan’s back before him shielded him from the street.  There were people on the street but there weren’t yet enough to mask them well enough.  Simon let out a sigh and shifted in place, trying to keep his muscles loose.  Nathan cast him a disapproving look.  Simon smiled at him and the older man shook his head.

“Relax,” Simon said.  “We still have almost an hour.  There’s no need to be so tense.”

“Relaxing could get us killed,” Nathan replied.  “You never know when the Hands might show up.”  Still, he turned away from the street and leaned against the building with a grunt.  “How’s Sara?”

“Fine,” Simon replied.  “I left her with one of the neighbors.”

“Not Miss Kliene?” Nathan asked, referring to the young bread maker that watched Sara during the day while Simon was off at the printing factory.

Suzu sniffed the air a moment before agreeing with him.

From behind them, far in the distance, the sound of gunshots rang out. They could only hear the echoes, but it was enough to put Suzu on edge. She pulled Luka closer, even as she tried to see if she could tell where they were coming from.

“Yes, those are probably from your village,” Sam said. “But don’t worry. That’s miles away. We haven’t had any reports of any of the Knights poking around this area.”

“Will they try and look for us?” Suzu asked.

“Depends on why they were in your village in the first place,” Sam said. He leaned back against the mast. “If they were looking for you parents, they might know that they didn’t get what they were looking for. Or maybe they just wanted to kill them and didn’t know they had whatever was in that tube. Or maybe you just got unlucky. Better hope for that last one, honestly. Means they won’t be looking for you.”

“Can we outrun them?”

“Depends on the winds.”

Sure enough, he unfurled a sail and tied it into place on the mast. The wind quickly caught it and the boat began to pick up speed.

They sailed in silence for a while before Sam started humming. He didn’t seem to notice he was doing it, and he didn’t sound too bad, so Suzu didn’t say anything.

Luka was asleep on her shoulder when he suddenly shot straight up. He stood and ran over to where Sam was standing by the steering wheel.

“Go east,” Luka ordered.

“Go back to sleep kid,” Sam said.

“No. You have to turn and head east.”

“Girl, come and get your brother. He’s making trouble.”

Luka was so upset. It made Suzu’s heart ache. Maybe he wasn’t taking their parents’ deaths as well as she had thought. But even so, he normally didn’t act out like that.

“Please Luka,” she said, taking his hand. “Let’s go listen to the waves.”

“No!” He yanked his hand free and tuned back to Sam. “You have to listen to me! If we keep going west, we are going to run into a whole fleet of Knights. They know where your hideout is and they’re waiting to catch anyone who comes close.”

“No chance kid,” Sam said. “I’d have heard something about something like that.”

“Not if the Knights are interfering with your communications,” Luka insisted. “Check with someone outside your base. Or with some other method. You’ll see.”

Sam looked like he was going to argue, but he just went into the cabin and came out with a bird.

“Practically primitive,” he muttered even as he set the bird on its way.

As Luka’s insistence, they anchored where they were while they waited for the bird to come back. Luka seemed a little more relaxed but still on edge.