#konai

When Guodei tried to take Kaelía and run, as Guodei remembers it:

(content notices: implied/referenced child abuse, stabbing)

Guodei shook Kaelía awake. “Come on,” she whispered. “We’re leaving.”

“What? Why? I don’t want to.”

“So they can’t hurt us ever again,” said Guodei. “So we’re safe.” 

Because while yes, it had been very, very hard when she had been initially rejected and thrown out when she’d been hardly older than Kaelía was now, and it had been nice in some ways to be back these past few cycles, eventually there had been a charity boarding school and happiness and safety, and so she knew there was better than this.

“Where are we going?”

“My old school. They’ll help us.” She took her hand and pulled her along.  

They were surrounded. 

Guodei pushed Kaelia behind her and held out her arms to keep them away. She had left her sword behind, of course- a twelve-year-old carrying a sword would not pass unnoticed. She had wrongly thought anonymity would provide more protection. 

“Get away,” she said. “Leave us alone.” 

“Come home, [Kaelía],” said Coraniss Qeij. “You’re going to be fine. It’s not your fault she took you away from us. We place no blame on you.”

Kaelía took a step towards them.

“No!” said Guodei. “[Kaelía], no!”

A Taken shoved Guodei.

Guodei’s back hit the wall hard, and she shouted. Blood ran from her nose.

“Guodei!” Kaelía stabbed at the Taken with her dagger. 

It wasn’t enough. 

Protect Kaelía. She had to protect Kaelía. 

“Help!” she screamed. “Somebody help!” She couldn’t hold them off on her own, five grown adults with the kind of demonic power on their side that Guodei was supposed to have some fraction of but didn’t, and Kaelía was fierce but Kaelía was seven and really quite small and hadn’t wanted to leave in the first place.

Nobody heard her. Of course they wouldn’t let anybody hear her. Nobody helped. 

Another Taken got behind her, shoving her to the ground with inhuman strength. 

She’d been the one to take Guodei back the first time, she thought- spotted her by chance as she fell into the river and resurfaced far too long after. 

Guodei yelled and drove her elbow upwards into her stomach. 

The Taken slammed her down again and wrenched her arms behind her, cuffing them together. 

Behind her, Kaelía was screaming. Screaming Guodei’s name, maybe.

“I will break you,” said Coraniss Qeij after Guo was pulled out of the box. “You’ll learn that [Kaelía] is mine, and you don’t interfere with that. And in time, you’ll be properly mine again too. Perfect little soldiers.” 

Guodei shuddered. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. It was the first she’d spoken since the box. “I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.” 

“No,” said Coraniss Qeij. “You won’t.”

(Kaelía's name is in brackets in the dialogue because that wasn't her name yet)

Guodei kills Konai:

(content notice: murder)

“You’ve betrayed us, Konai,” said Coraniss Qeij, the disappointment in their double voice clear. 

Konai said nothing, but she glanced over at Guodei. 

Guodei was disappointed too. She didn’t see Konai much anymore, but they’d been close before Konai had been assigned to the boy. 

She hated the boy for coming between them. 

Coraniss Qeij looked between them. “As, up until now, you have been a good daughter-” Gētnysh Qeij’s voice alone- “and a promising soldier-” both voices again- “we will give you a sliver of a chance. You will fight Guodei, as you have before, but only one of you will leave this room alive.” 

Oh. Ohhhh, it was real. This was the “opportunity” to prove that she was still good enough despite the rejected implants and amputation, to prove that she was truly loyal, to prove that she could use these new claws when it really mattered. 

She was going to kill her best friend/sister/sister-in-arms. 

She was going to kill her, because she won almost every time, because she was bigger, because Konai’s strength would have lessened while she was with the boy and not training, and because- most importantly- she had razorblades attached to her hands and Konai was unarmed. Because Guodei was a weapon and Konai was a person. 

Konai looked as numb as Guodei felt when Coraniss Qeij locked them in. 

It wasn’t quick. It wasn’t easy.

When Guodei’s claws ripped deep through Konai’s belly, and she fell into her arms, it felt like the world was in slow motion.

“I’m sorry,” Guodei said, lowering her to the ground.

“I know,” Konai said.

“I love you,” Guodei said.

Konai reached for her other hand, ran a finger over her claws, and tilted her head back to bare her neck. “I want it to be quick.”

Guodei closed her eyes and nodded.

“Good,” said Gētnyx. “You killed her. But tell me, what did you do wrong?”

Guodei lowered her eyes. “I cried.” 

“And?”

“Good soldiers don’t cry,” Guodei mumbled, wiping her face on her bloody sleeve. 

“Speak up.”

“Good soldiers don’t cry,” Guodei repeated. “Good soldiers don’t feel anything and they definitely don’t show it.” 

“So?”

“So I deserve to be punished.” But, Konai had deserved her tears, too, because she was Guodei’s best friend, except Konai hadn’t deserved her tears, because she was a traitor. And either way Guodei was supposed to be a good soldier and good soldiers didn’t cry, even if her best friend had died in her arms and at her hand. She did deserve to be punished. 

She had said it enough times now that she believed it. 

Guodei’s eyes were on the ground as she followed Gētnyx, shame burning behind them. She knew the others were watching her, had watched her kill Konai- what was the point, otherwise, if the others didn’t see what happened to traitors- and she only hoped they hadn’t seen her cry. They had to see her as strong, even when she wasn’t. She hoped they couldn’t tell where Gētnyx was taking her, that her punishment would be private, that she’d be granted that small mercy in light of her victory over Konai, but she never knew if it would be; after all, what was the point of having a pet monster if you couldn’t show your power over it?

Mercifully, none of the others followed. 

“I know killing Konai was hard for you,” Gētnyx said. 

Guodei nodded as she took off her shirt and sank to her knees. 

“It was a hard decision for us too,” said Gētnyx. “But she betrayed us, and that cannot be allowed.”

“I know,” said Guodei quietly, bringing the chain up to her collar. The chains were essentially symbolic now, more for display (and humiliation) than to actually physically keep her in place. She had grown out of her defiant phase over a year ago. 

Gētnyx was almost gentle as ze chained Guodei’s hands in place between her knees. “You have already cried and, I expect, felt strongly today. I won’t be surprised if you react to the pain, too, and neither of us wants your siblings to see that.”

Guodei shook her head. That would undermine today’s display of her strength. It might give the others ideas. 

“I know Konai was your best friend,” said Gētnyx. “I will go easy on you. But good soldiers don’t cry, and we do not want to set a precedent, so you must still be whipped. You understand?”

“Yes,” said Guodei. “Thank you, honoured parent.” She meant it. She would only have to contend with Gētnyx’s weaker human strength, not the strength ze and Coraniss Sayklee had when they were merged. 

Guodei and Kéchawaedrii-Orl Dreihar:

(content notices: assault, torture, medical abuse, dehumanization)

This was her first real, solo assignment since the amputation. (Except Konai, but she didn’t like to think about that.) She had to prove she was still good enough. 

High Concilmember Dreihar’s guards were unconscious or dead. That part hadn’t been hard. Guodei preferred not to kill bystanders, including guards, but sometimes it was inevitable. More tallies for her arm. 

The High Councilmember himself was supposed to be harder, though. 

Guodei spotted him standing in the courtyard. Just… standing there, alone. 

Then again, maybe it wouldn’t be that hard. She wasn’t as agile as she’d once been, and the pain in her nerves was worse than it had been before, but she had a clear shot. She nocked an arrow.  

Aimed, chest muscles screaming. 

Shot. 

It went through the High Councilmember undisturbed. 

Guodei muttered a curse. Illusion magic. 

She’d never encountered it before, but this must be it. 

“Turn around. Slowly. Drop your bow.”

Guodei froze. 

“Now.” 

She did as directed. 

The High Councilmember stood a metre or so in front of Guodei, magic trained on her. 

Guodei ground her teeth. She couldn’t fail this one, and she definitely couldn’t be captured. If she were captured, the experimentation would be found out, and then what? 

She had to kill the High Councilmember. No excuses. No exceptions. No failures. 

So she gripped her second arrow and lunged forwards. 

The arrow bounced off the High Councilmember’s skin- what the hell?- and raw, pure magic, stronger than anything Guodei had ever felt before, even during the experimental procedures, burned through her body. 

She screamed, her muscles spasming, but she had to kill the High Councilmember. 

Guodei’s claws bounced off too. 

The High Councilmember sliced through Guodei’s thin chest armour like it was water. The dagger screeched along the metal plate over her heart and cut into the flesh beneath it. 

Then the magic, again, and her vision was going staticky-

She fell to the ground, everything slowing. 

The High Councilmember ripped Guodei’s mask away. 

“You’re just a child,” he said, sounding surprised. 

Guodei, mostly paralyzed, waited for the inevitable comment on her scars, on how they twisted her face. She wasn’t out much, especially unmasked, but when she was, she was always stared at. She remembered, vaguely, that that was on purpose, because it was harder to disappear into regular society if she looked so distinctive. Not that it mattered. She didn’t want to get away anymore.

“I’ll let you live this once,” said the High Councilmember. “Return to her and show her what happens when she comes after me.”

Guodei started to laugh, a coughing, wheezing sound. Once she started, she couldn’t stop. 

The High Councilmember frowned. 

She was expendable. She would always be expendable. She was a constant reminder of failure. She wasn’t really part of the family. 

The High Councilmember severed the tendon in Guodei’s right elbow. 

That stopped her laughter. 

She wouldn’t scream. Couldn’t scream. She’d be hurt worse if she screamed.

“I am usually against hurting children,” said the High Councilmember, “but I’ll make an exception this once, because you… you’re a monster, and you’re barely a child, and you’re her agent. I don’t know how much a trained killer like you counts as a child anyway, or even a person, and it’s a public good to ensure you can’t kill anyone else.”

She awoke stripped to the waist, with a stranger in a lab coat bent over her. She must have passed out from pain. 

“Don’t touch me,” she snarled, her small, sharp claws scraping against something as she surged against the chains holding her down, pain exploding in her elbows where she’d been cut. To attack, to escape- either, both. 

“What are you?” asked Lab Coat. 

What. Not who. 

She was always a ‘what.’ 

“Don’t touch me or I will kill you,” Guodei snapped, almost screamed. 

“Why do you have metal instead of skin on your arms and chest? Whose body parts were used to make you? Did you choose this?”

She resented the second question. The base of her was her original body, and her brain was organic, mostly. Coraniss Qeij and Lord Thorne hadn’t tried to attach someone else’s body parts, just magical and metal and robotic bits. 

She wouldn’t speak, other than variations on ‘don’t touch me.’ She had to get free. 

“Don’t touch me,” she said as she was poked and prodded. 

The implants between her shoulder blades, where the wings would go, were a point of fascination for the Lab Coats. They asked her what they were, what their purpose was, did they interfere with her back muscles? What about the plate in her chest- Did it interfere with her chest muscles, did it mean her heart was mechanical too?

Guodei flexed her claws again as the lab door opened. Useless, and painful for her, but it made her feel like she had some power. It frightened them that she had razorblades on the ends of her fingers, even though she couldn’t reach them and couldn’t move her lower arms (or legs) and had started to shake uncontrollably. They were going to cut her open- they wouldn’t cut her open, she wouldn’t be opened up again-

She could think of a few reasons for the shaking-

She hadn’t eaten. 

She was cold. 

She was being touched. 

The manacles started to peel themselves off her wrists and ankles. 

Lord Thorne. 

Maybe relief was on the list of why she was shaking now, too. 

“Oh, little experiment,” said Lord Thorne. “Come on. I’m going to take you home.” 

“Can’t-” Guodei’s teeth chattered. “-move.” 

Lord Thorne’s gaze dropped to the dried blood streaking her forearms. 

“My knees-”

“I see.” Lord Thorne easily lifted her up. 

Guodei flinched. “Don’t- don’t touch-” 

Crying. She was crying now, as well as shaking. It must be the cold and the hunger and the lack of movement shutting down her systems. 

Lord Thorne tightened his hold. “My poor little experiment,” he said, stepping over bodies in the hallway outside the lab. “I’ve got you.”

Guodei scraped at Lord Thorne with her claws. “Don’t touch!” 

Lord Thorne forced the claws back into Guodei’s hands with his magic, ignoring Guodei’s cry of pain, and pressed Guodei’s head against his chest. “You’re safe now. What happened? How did they capture you?” 

“He- He’s powerful,” Guodei said, “the High Councilmember. S-some kind of magic. I tried- I tried to kill him and he caught me and then he saw…”

“H-honoured parents,” Guodei said, unable to kneel or even stand with her injuries. Lord Thorne still held her. “My queen. I was captured and I- and I cried. I’m sorry. Will you please allow- allow me to have these wounds dressed before I am punished?”

Coraniss Qeij petted Guodei’s shorn hair. “No. I think whatever he did to you was punishment enough, Guodei. I didn’t know how powerful he was, or I wouldn’t have sent you alone and unprepared for that. You’re in no state to withstand punishment now.”

“Th-thank you,” Guodei said, feeling tears prick behind her eyes again. She wouldn’t cry. Good soldiers didn’t cry. Especially not twice in a day. “Thank you s-so much.”

“Take her to the infirmary,” Coraniss Qeij told Lord Thorne. They looked back down at Guodei. “We’ll get all this sorted out, and then we will discuss what went wrong and what happened after you were captured and before Lord Thorne arrived.” 

Final results of the experiments:

(content notices: medical abuse, human experimentation, dehumanization)

Guodei stood mostly naked in the lab. Lord Thorne and Coraniss Qeij wanted her to demonstrate the final results of their experimentation. 

The edge of one of her forearm plates oozed pus. Infected. 

She flexed her claws. The claws, at least, worked like they were supposed to. They were sharp and deadly, and Guodei could extend and retract them at will. It hurt, to make them longer or shorter, because it did some damage to her fingertips, but it was much less of a problem that the original plan to have them fully retract had been, because that had meant her skin was constantly broken as they went in and out. 

Lord Thorne nodded. “She’ll have to keep antiseptic with her at all times to keep those clean. She should never retract them without cleaning them, so once they’re out, they’re out until they’re clean.” 

He wrote on the whiteboard claws work under the heading ADVANTAGES.

He wrote high risk of infection under DISADVANTAGES. 

“Her heart?” he asked. 

“That’s the one thing there have been no problems with,” said Coraniss Qeij. “Its heart is strong and the disease has not returned since the transplant.” 

Lord Thorne added that under ADVANTAGES. 

“Wings?” he asked. 

Guodei gritted her teeth and opened them as far as they would go, which was not much. Pain webbed through her back and neck. 

Lord Thorne frowned. 

“It won’t open them any farther,” said Coraniss Qeij disapprovingly. 

“I can’t,” said Guodei weakly. 

Lord Thorne extended his fingers, and Guodei felt the metal of the wings beginning to move. 

She bit back a scream and doubled over as pain tore through her back, her neck, her shoulders, even her wings (which she had so little sensation in to begin with). 

The wings creaked and scraped as Lord Thorne forced them further open, but eventually they wouldn’t open any more even with his magic. 

“Hmph.” Lord Thorne recorded this under DISADVANTAGES. 

“I’m sorry,” said Guodei, her voice raw. 

“There seems to be a lot of infection,” Lord Thorne said, ignoring Guodei. 

“Yes,” said Coraniss Qeij. “It is always on antibiotics.” 

“What other maintenance does it need?” 

Guodei didn’t miss that Lord Thorne had called her ‘it’ this time instead of ‘she.’

Lord Thorne had always called her ‘she’ before, since hearing the others call her that. Gētnysh Qeij usually called her ‘she’ too, except in the context of the experiment, but Coraniss Sayklee had called her ‘it’ since the experiments began.

“Frequent surgeries,” said Coraniss Qeij. “Often minor, but frequent. The skin often needs to be repaired where it breaks and doesn’t heal. Its eye often needs fixing.”

Lord Thorne sighed. “What’s wrong with the eye?” 

“It fails with impact and doesn’t always fix itself.” 

Lord Thorne recorded this under DISADVANTAGES. 

“Experiment,” he said, the affection gone from his voice, “any other health problems?”

“Pain,” said Guodei. “All the time. Everywhere, but especially where the implants are.”

“Hmph. We’ll do a brain scan, but I think it’s a failure altogether.” 

“Yes,” said Coraniss Qeij. “It’s a good enough soldier to keep, but the augmentation has not taken, and the human genes remain dominant.”

Guodei protects Kjotar:

Abhaonai watched, unable to breathe or think or feel anything except fear as Kjotar fought Guodei. 

Kjotar was tiny and malnourished and barely trained. There was no way Guodei, huge next to him and deadly, wouldn’t crush him. 

But then, somehow, impossibly, Kjotar won, sitting on Guodei’s chest, holding his new dagger against Guodei’s jugular. 

“Surrender,” Kjotar signed with one hand.

Abhaonai was sure Guodei could remove Kjotar. She was twice Kjotar’s size and far more muscular than a seventeen-year-old had any right to be. Surely-

Oh. 

She’d let Kjotar win. She was throwing the fight. 

She was protecting Kjotar.  

***

Kjotar was still getting used to his new family. It was a lot bigger than he was used to, which was just him and Abhaonai. It had a lot of rules he was still figuring out. 

Everyone had been summoned into a room Kjotar hadn’t been to before. He had mostly only been in the infirmary, and then recently in and around his and Abhaonai’s new bedroom. 

This place was so big. 

This room had a concrete floor and a set of chains lying in the middle of it. There was a cupboard in the corner and a long bench along one side. 

Everyone except Guodei sat down on the bench, so Kjotar and Abhaonai followed them. 

He looked over at Guodei, expecting her to come, but she remained standing, her spine perfectly straight and her hands clasped behind her back. 

He had fought Guodei this morning, and won. He suspected Guodei hadn’t been trying as hard as she could have, but Kjotar still felt strong. It was nice to feel strong. 

When Coraniss Qeij entered, Guodei dropped fluidly to one knee. “My queen,” she said. “Honoured parents.”

Guodei looked a lot like Coraniss Qeij. Maybe they were really, actually Guodei’s parents, not like how they’d just told Kjotar to call them that even though they weren’t really. 

“Guodei,” Coraniss Qeij said, their double voice echoing around the room. 

It felt like there was something going on here, but Kjotar hadn’t worked out what. 

“Go,” Coraniss Qeij told Guodei, after a moment longer of looking down at her. 

Guodei rose and walked over to the pile of chain. 

She knelt on the concrete floor again and took off her shirt. Her back was nearly as scarred as her face. The metal wings, it turned out, really were attached. 

Kjotar felt like he should look away, but he couldn’t. 

Guodei brought the chain up to her neck and attached it to a small leather collar Kjotar had hardly noticed. He noticed now that none of the others wore one. 

Coraniss Qeij chained Guodei’s wrists between her knees. 

Kjotar still didn’t fully understand what was happening, but he knew he didn’t like it. 

He felt Abhaonai suck in a sharp breath when Coraniss Qeij took a rod with a cord attached out of the cupboard. 

“This,” Coraniss Qeij said, either to all of them or just to Guodei, “is what softness gets you.” 

They hit Guodei’s bare back with the cord, and Kjotar understood then that it was a whip. 

Abhaonai pulled Kjotar even closer to his side. 

Guodei was very calm about all of this. Everyone was very calm about all of this. Was this normal?

Coraniss Qeij cracked the whip again, and Guodei’s skin split open where the end had hit her. 

Kjotar couldn’t help but watch in horrified fascination. 

A third time, fourth, fifth, and Guodei’s perfect posture started to collapse. 

Abhaonai tried to cover Kjotar’s eyes, but Coraniss Qeij looked over at them and said, “No. He will watch.” 

Guodei was starting to bleed. Kjotar really didn’t like blood. And, he now discovered, he didn’t like watching whipping either. 

Guodei hadn’t screamed. She hadn’t even whimpered. The only sounds in the room were the crack of the whip and Guodei’s laboured breathing. 

Kjotar stopped counting after ten. 

***

Kneeling on the floor afterwards until she was released, that was part of the punishment. It was meant to give her time to reflect, and sometimes, like now, she was a little bit grateful for it. It meant she had an excuse for not facing the others right after the whipping, when they’d all seen. 

She hadn’t screamed. She hadn’t made a sound. That was good. Perfect soldiers didn’t react to pain. 

It was embarrassing, quite frankly, to be so publicly put in her place. Especially when there were new siblings who didn’t quite understand things yet. 

Abhaonai and Kjotar needed to understand how things worked here, of course, so it had had to be public, of course. 

She should have just hurt Kjotar. He’d have to learn to take it anyway. All she had succeeded in doing was making herself look weak and earning twenty lashes and the afternoon and evening half-naked on her knees on the concrete floor in the almost-dark, and then dinner only very late, after Coraniss Qeij saw fit to free her, and alone instead of with the family. 

Guodei was startled by a shadow falling over her. She had thought they’d all left by now, having been dismissed after the beating and a short lecture. 

“Kjotar wants to apologize,” said Abhaonai.  

Ah. Two shadows. 

“I’m fine,” said Guodei. “It’s fine. Whatever. It’s my own fault.” 

“He wants to know if it still hurts.” 

“I’m fine,” said Guodei again. “Heh. Perfect soldiers, weapons like me, we don’t feel pain.” 

“It… looked like it hurt,” Abhaonai said cautiously. 

Guodei bared her filed teeth at him and he took a step back, pulling Kjotar with him. 

Good. She could still command fear from him. He understood that only Coraniss Qeij could make her submit- the whole point of this spectacle was that only Coraniss Qeij could make her submit. 

“He wants to know if they’ll do that to us,” Abhoanai asked quietly. 

Guodei shrugged, then deeply regretted it as her back flared with pain. “Depends just how far out of line you step. They won’t expect you to tolerate it like me. It won’t be anything like this. It’s usually me, anyway.”

“I want to thank you,” said Abhaonai. “I know how badly you could have hurt Kjotar. Thank you for holding back.” 

“Mmh. It won’t happen again.” 

“I know.”

“You can leave,” said Guodei firmly.

Guodei makes Kjotar kill someone:

(content notices: assault, murder)

“Come on,” said Guodei irritably. She was tired and hungry and wanted to go home. She would have been home twenty minutes ago if she’d been on her own. She would have already showered the blood off and burned another tally into her arm and made a snack. They’d been standing here for over an hour. 

Kjotar continued staring at the dagger in his hands.

“Kjotar,” Guodei snapped. “I did the hard part. She can’t hurt you. Put that dagger in the target’s throat and be done with it. We can take the subway home if you want.”

The target in question was tied to the support beam in the middle of the apartment, gagged and blindfolded. Guodei had shoved wax plugs in her ears for good measure.

Kjotar shook his head.

Guodei scowled. She had tried kindness. She had tried bribery. She had tried pleading. She had tried logic. She had tried threats.

She slapped Kjotar, her gloved knuckles cracking across Kjotar’s still-hollow cheeks. Violent touch was, in some ways, easier. It shouldn’t be- she knew it shouldn’t be, she knew there must be something wrong with her that made it so- but it was, so this hurt her less than other touch did. 

Kjotar gasped, tears welling up in his brown eyes. He turned to run away from Guodei, but Guodei caught him by the arm. The touch felt bad, but Kjotar had to do this. 

“You have to do this,” said Guodei harshly. “Coraniss Sayklee will hurt you a lot worse than that if you don’t, and she’ll hurt me for failing to force you to. If I kill her instead, you will still be unblooded. Do you know what happens to people who fail to integrate, Kjotar? They die. I kill them. I would rather not kill you. I’ll hold your hand. I’ll guide you. All you need to do is put the blade through her throat. That’s it. Then you’re done. Then I can dissolve the body and we can go home. You can go back to Abhaonai. Okay?”

Finally, Kjotar nodded, tears running down his face.

“Good.” Guodei wrapped her hand around Kjotar’s smaller one, holding the knife with him. She hated it. Kjotar needed it. The gloves formed a barrier between them, making it just barely bearable. “I’ll count down from three.”

Abhaonai marched up to Guodei. 

Guodei’s hair was still damp from the shower and her arm smarted from the newest mark. Her leg was still settling back into place after taking it off to bathe. Her hands were bare. 

Abhaonai’s fist almost passed the tip of Guodei’s nose before Guodei caught his wrist. 

She was getting slow with exhaustion. 

“You hit Kjotar,” snarled Abhaonai. 

“I had to.” 

“You did not. He is ten. He is a child. You hurt him, you-”

I was much younger than ten. 

Guodei squeezed Abhaonai’s wrist slightly, just enough to hurt in the moment but not enough to cause lasting damage. “I protected him. If I hadn’t, he wouldn’t have done it, and Coraniss Qeij would have hurt him worse than I did. You can call me a monster if you want, you can call me cruel-” things Abhaonai had called him in the past, perhaps rightfully so- “but I brought him home safe.” She dropped Abhaonai’s wrist, unable to bear the direct contact a moment longer. 

“There was blood on his face!”

“Arterial spray,” said Guodei tiredly. “That’s what happens when you cut an artery while the heart is still pumping. Blood sprays everywhere. It’s unpleasant. You wouldn’t know. I never used my claws on him.” 

Guodei watched Abhaonai’s chest move up and down several times. 

 “He thought you were nice,” Abhaonai said finally. “He trusted you. You washed our quilt when we first arrived and you let him beat you once and he thought you were kind.”

“Oh.” Guodei felt something at that, but she shoved it away. She wasn’t meant to have feelings, and she certainly wasn’t nice. Good soldiers weren’t nice. “Well, now he knows better.” 

“I knew better long ago,” said Abhaonai. “He should have too, but I wanted to protect him from you and he’s too young and starved for kindness to know better. He won’t think that anymore.”

“Good,” said Guodei, perhaps a little harshly. 

“I will- I will kill you if you lay a hand on him again,” said Abhaonai. He was still shaking with rage. 

“Ha,” said Guodei, not really laughter. “You won’t. You can’t. That’s not how this works, and anyway if you tried I would stop you very easily. Coraniss Qeij would want me to beat you for even saying that, to remind you of your place.”

She didn’t miss how Abhaonai flinched. 

“But,” she said, “I’m exhausted and I don’t really care. Get out of my way and go back to your brother. Go to sleep. We won’t tell anyone you said that, and I won’t have to hurt you, okay? I know what it’s like to want to protect your younger sibling, and it’s really late, so I know you’re not thinking clearly. Go to bed.” 

She shoved past him without waiting for a response. 

The gentle side:

(content notices: blood, murder (off-page))

Abhaonai felt like he was drowning. 

He was covered in blood.

He couldn’t breathe. 

It was everywhere… How was there so much blood in the human body? How did it get everywhere?

He hadn’t wanted to, he hadn’t wanted to kill, but he had to protect Kjotar at all costs and he didn’t think Kjotar or probably even he would survive being tossed back into the streets. 

“Oh, Abhaonai.”

Guodei, Guodei was here, when had Guodei gotten here?

“You’re covered in blood. Are you hurt? Should I get Nesyue?”

Abhaonai managed to speak. “Not hurt. Please get Nesyue.”

“Okay,” said Guodei.

“Kjotar-” Abhaonai gasped. “Kjotar can’t see me like this.”

“Okay,” said Guodei. “Are you okay to be left alone for a minute? I’ll get Nesyue and clean clothes.”

Abhaonai nodded, still struggling to breathe.

He didn’t know how long Guodei was gone for before she came back with Nesyue and clean clothes.

Nesyue had a bucket of water and a couple towels. “Is this your first time?”

Abhaonai started to cry at the implication that there would be others.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” said Nesyue. “You’re okay right now. We’re going to clean you up, okay? You should shower, but we’ll get some of the blood off now.”

Guodei peeled off her gloves and picked up a towel.

“They said they’d throw us out,” said Abhaonai. “I had to.”

Nesyue took his blood-spattered glasses and dunked them in the water.

“I remember my first time,” said Guodei, dipping one of the towels in the water and starting to clean Abhaonai’s face. “I was… eight? Seven? They brought him to me. Something about trying to awaken my heritage. Does it help if I tell you that it gets easier, that you stop feeling it, or does it just make me seem like more of a monster?”

She didn’t seem to expect a response, rinsing the bloody cloth and returning to gently wiping the blood off Abhaonai.

“I thought you hated touching people,” said Abhaonai.

“I do,” said Guodei, at the same time as Nesyue said, “She does.”

“The towel’s between us and it’s pretty thick,” Guodei explained. “I’m not really touching you. That makes it easier.”

Also the gentle side:

(content notice: PTSD, internalized ableism)

“You need to focus, Līsandyr,” said Guodei irritably.

Līsandyr dragged his concentration back to the training.

It was harder to fake it when he wasn’t in a full classroom, able to be overlooked because of his forced silence and stillness.

He had to fake it. Guodei couldn’t know about his troubles, his brokenness, his inability to learn properly. No one could know.

Despite his best efforts, his mind wandered again. 

Both their heartbeats were loud, echoing in the large room. What else was in the underground building? How many rooms like this? How many tunnels? Where did it all lead? When would he get to explore them? Maybe Kaelía would take him. How long had Kaelía-

“Focus,” snapped Guodei, clearly fed up with Līsandyr’s failure to respond to even the most basic of her instructions.

Līsandyr flinched.

Focus. His right hand being taped to the desk so he couldn’t fidget. Focus. Being humiliated in front of the class. Focus. The letters swimming before his eyes, not making any coherent words. Focus. Being hit with magic when he couldn’t pay attention to his training. Focus. Sitting in an uncomfortable chair as a mind mage wrenched his attention towards his task and pinned it there. Focus. Him doing that to himself with his own magic, regardless of the pain it caused, so no one would know he was broken.

Guodei had caught the flinch and the tears Līsandyr was blinking back.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “We can take a break if you need to. You’re pretty new to this.”

Līsandyr seized on the excuse Guodei had given him. He forced a chuckle. “Yeah. Just need time to adjust, I guess.”

Not the gentle side:

(content notice: injury, internalized ableism, physical abuse)

As he woke up, the pain was the first thing he noticed.

His wrists were chained to the wall behind him.

No…

Everything hurt, everything hurt, everything hurt…

Līsandyr vomited bile down his front.

“I really wish you hadn’t done that,” said Guodei. “It makes things a lot harder for me.”

Līsandyr flinched. “Why are you here?”

“Coraniss Qeij sent me,” said Guodei. “They don't want you to be healed magically, or not yet anyway, which is where the majority of Nesyue’s medical skills lie, and they want you to trust Kaelía.”

He couldn’t trust Kaelía. Kaelía would kill him if Coraniss Sayklee or Gētnyx wanted her to. He’d figured that out quickly. She was nice enough to him, but her loyalty to Coraniss Qeij came first. 

“And she thought I could best convince you not to try this again.” Guodei took large, sharp shears out of her belt and approached Līsandyr. She was wearing her stained gloves, not her good ones.

Līsandyr flinched again, cringing away from Guodei.

“I’m not going to hurt you with metal cutters, Līsandyr,” said Guodei. “I need to cut the end off of Nesyue’s arrow to take it out of your shoulder or it will rip your muscle apart.”

“Oh,” said Līsandyr.

He stood still and let Guodei cut the arrow.

Guodei wrapped a hand around the other end of the arrow and pulled.

Līsandyr screamed.

“You’ll be fine,” said Guodei. “That’s the worst part over now.”

She took out a pair of regular scissors and started to cut away Līsandyr’s shirt at his injured shoulder. “You cannot try this again. You won’t even make it out the door before you die. You got lucky because your magic is valuable, but it won’t save you a second time.”

Līsandyr went silent. Stay still, stay quiet. 

Edwyt save him. 

He couldn’t do what Coraniss Qeij wanted. He couldn’t hurt people for them. He couldn’t let them keep control of his magic. 

And they would notice, sooner or later, that he was stupid, that he couldn’t focus or learn or read and sometimes couldn’t even speak, and then what would they do? 

Guodei’s hands were gentle as she wiped the blood away from Līsandyr’s wound. “Promise me you won’t try this again.” 

Līsandyr stayed silent. He couldn’t promise that. 

Guodei continued her treatment of the arrow wound. She worked in silence from then on. 

She tied off the bandages and stepped away. “That should do the trick.” 

She put away the medical supplies. “You’ll want to take some painkillers in the morning, if they’ll let you.” 

Līsandyr nodded stiffly. 

Guodei reached into her belt again and turned back around. 

Līsandyr flinched again as Guodei slid the brass knuckles on over her gloves. 

“Coraniss Sayklee ordered me to rough you up a little before bringing you to her, and I’m not one to disobey orders,” said Guodei, her voice dull and devoid of emotion. “I figure the harder I hit you, the less likely you are to try this again, and the more likely you are to survive.” 

Līsandyr flattened himself against the wall. Stay still, stay quiet. 

He thought he saw a flash of pity in Guodei’s eyes just before her fist connected with Līsandyr’s jaw. 

“Come on,” Guodei said brusquely as she unchained Līsandyr’s wrists. 

Līsandyr immediately dropped to the ground and hid his battered face. 

Guodei had hurt him. Guodei had hurt him really badly. 

“Līsandyr. Stand up.” 

Līsandyr sobbed. Guodei had hurt him really bad, but the real punishment was yet to come, wasn’t it? Guodei still had to take him to Coraniss Qeij. 

“You can walk or I can carry you,” Guodei said, more gently. “Do you need me to carry you?”

Līsandyr tried to speak but couldn’t. He staggeringly pushed himself up against the wall. 

“Come on,” Guodei said again. 

He flinched when she put an arm around him. 

She walked Līsandyr into what he’d come to think of as the punishment room. 

Līsandyr started crying. 

“Here. Come on. Kneel down. It’s best if you’re ready before they get here.” 

Līsandyr’s eyes darted around, but there was no escape. No escape. 

“They will be here very soon,” Guodei said, her voice very fast. “Get on your knees and take off your shirt. Be ready before they get here. Please. They’ll add five lashes for both of us if you’re not.” 

Līsandyr shakily pulled off his shirt. 

Guodei took it. “This is already in pretty bad shape,” she said. “All torn and bloody. Might as well just give you a new one.” 

He was cold. It was very cold in here. 

Guodei nudged him. “Kneel.” 

Right. 

After he knelt, Guodei fastened a leather collar around his neck- “Just for now, don’t worry”- and chained his neck and wrists. 

“Don’t try to move out of the way, alright?” said Guodei. “This is the most comfortable position you’ll get, trust me.” 

Līsandyr was crying harder now. 

“It will be over soon,” said Guodei. 

But it wasn’t. Līsandyr was made to wait for a very long time. He wondered if it was morning by the time the door opened again. 

The others were going to watch. Kaelía was going to watch. 

Līsandyr’s tears started again. 

Guodei had been standing at attention this whole time, waiting for Coraniss Qeij to arrive. Līsandyr could hear the fatigue in her voice when she greeted them. Guodei probably had some weird thing about perfect soldiers not getting tired or being able to stand straight up for hours or whatever.

“How many, my queen?” Guodei asked quietly. 

“Twenty.”

Līsandyr heard Guodei breathe in sharply.

“May I do it, my queen?” Guodei asked. 

Why? Why did Guodei want to hurt him even more?

“I suppose.” 

Līsandyr sobbed and screamed the whole time. He forgot Guodei’s advice and wrenched at the chains, trying desperately to get away, but only ended up sprawled awkwardly on the floor. 

When it was over, Guodei said, “He has been kneeling for a long time already, my queen. What time is it now?”

“Around seven.” 

“He has been kneeling for over six hours, then. I expect he has had ample time to reflect by now.” 

“Kaelía, give him a few minutes and then you can help him with the wounds and take him to have some water. No food yet, but you may unchain him,” said Coraniss Qeij. 

“Yes, my queen,” said Kaelía. 

“Guodei, go rest for a few hours. You’ve been up all night dealing with him”

“Yes, my queen.”

Līsandyr hoped that she was exhausted and her legs hurt and she didn’t get any rest all day. 

“The rest of you are dismissed.”

After everyone else had left, Kaelía screamed “FUCK!” very loudly at the ceiling and kicked the bench. 

It knelt down in front of Līsandyr. “You tried to run away.”

Līsandyr nodded. 

“Līs…” Kaelía said. 

Līsandyr sobbed. 

“Okay. We’ll talk about this, but later, once you’re more composed.”

Līsandyr nodded again, because what else could he do? He’d lost his speech earlier, and he didn’t know when he’d get it back. 

“I want you to know that Guodei was protecting you,” said Kaelía. 

Līsandyr looked at it in disbelief. 

“Coraniss Qeij, when they are merged, are incredibly strong,” said Kaelía. “And you haven’t been whipped even once before. They could have killed you easily. Guodei doesn’t have that kind of magical strength in the first place, and she probably wouldn’t have been hitting as hard as she could. I’m glad you’re still alive. I haven’t had a friend in a long time.”

Chronic illness buddies:

They’d been through this routine enough for Retmiq to know exactly what to do when Guodei stumbled into his room and collapsed on his bed, a stain spreading on the front of her shirt. 

“Your chest this time?” Retmiq asked, pulling out his kit. 

Guodei nodded and began to pull her shirt over her head. 

There was a quiet tearing sound and Guodei let out a sharp little gasp. 

When her shirt was out of the way, Retmiq saw that the fragile skin where Guodei’s arm-metal ended had ripped as well. 

Guodei reached out a hand for the antiseptic, which Retmiq passed her. The first time, he’d tried to treat Guodei’s weeping sores himself, but Guodei had grabbed his arm very tightly and vehemently told him ‘no touching.’

“How bad does it look?” Guodei asked, wincing as she dabbed on the antiseptic. “I can’t quite see.” 

Retmiq waffled. He’d seen worse, in the time since the two of them had made the Chronic Illness Pact, but it was definitely bad. He didn’t want to make it sound worse than it was and scare Guodei unnecessarily, but he didn’t want to undersell it either. “Well, it’s your chest,” he began. “So it’s always going to look bad. It looks bad, but not infected like your arm. You’ve been taking care of that infection?”

Guodei nodded. “I feel like I’m always taking antibiotics nowadays.” 

“I know the feeling,” Retmiq muttered. Even on this divine or demonic or whatever (if there even was a difference) magical medicine, he had an extensive pill regimen. “How did it happen this time?”

“Moved wrong, I guess,” said Guodei. “I took a hit there the other day, so that would have weakened it. I came to you as soon as I felt the skin tear.”

“How much does it hurt? Zero to ten.” 

“Seven.”

Retmiq winced. Seven, from Guodei, was definitely severe. She’d hit nine before with Retmiq, with an awful infection on her back, but seven was above usual for these injuries. Four and five were typical, six or seven if it was infected. 

It was no surprise Guodei used hard drugs. 

He passed Guodei the painkillers- officially only for Retmiq, because Guodei wasn’t supposed to need them- and then the local anesthetic. “Does your heart feel alright?”

“My heart is the only part that works perfectly,” said Guodei. “I’ve never had a problem with it, no matter how hard I get hit in the chest. Probably because its only purpose was to replace my failing flesh heart and keep me alive, without any augmentations.”

“We need to figure out something to protect or heal your skin,” said Retmiq. “It’s getting more and more fragile.” 

Retmiq was probably the only person allowed to say that to Guodei. They both hated being pitied and being treated as fragile because of their illnesses. Retmiq was allowed to use that word in describing anything about Guodei because of their understanding. Some parts of Guodei’s skin were very prone to tearing, and thus were fragile.

When they’d first met, Retmiq could never have imagined seeing Guodei vulnerable like this, let alone being allowed to be a part of this. 

Their relationship was complicated, to say the least, but inside the sacred space of the Chronic Illness Pact, everything else was put aside. They took care of each other and were vulnerable with each other and vented together, and conflicts (of which there were sometimes many and sometimes few) were to be dealt with at any other time. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Guodei admitted. “Coraniss Qeij will never let me take another break for my health, especially because it’s proof of their failure. I’m in so much pain all the time. I’m sick so often because of the infections. I get injured like this so easily…” 

“Armour, maybe, for now,” said Retmiq. “Something light, but that will take some of the impact for you. Move very carefully. We should look for some sort of magic to protect your skin… You need rest, of course, but they won’t give you a lot of that. Healthy food. Keep the edges clean.” 

Guodei nodded. 

“Lie down for now,” said Retmiq. 

Guodei did. 

Retmiq didn’t mind that she was getting blood on the sheets. 

“We’ll need to close those,” said Retmiq. “The sooner, the better.”

“I know.” Guodei grimaced. “I can’t… I can’t see it well enough to stitch it myself…”

“Stitches will rip,” said Retmiq. “Here, I have these tape things that are supposed to hold it closed, and this is glue for your skin.” 

Guodei seems to kill Qatriong:

(content notice: blood)

Guodei popped her head out of a nearby doorway. “Qatriong, can I talk to you for a minute?” 

“Sure.” Qatriong crossed her arms. “What is it?” 

“In private,” Guodei clarified. 

“Zhe’ārani can hear whatever you have to say to me,” said Qatriong. 

“You can tell her whatever you want after, but… I think you’ll want to know what it is first.” 

Qatriong sighed. “Fine. Be right back, Rani.”

“Okay,” said Zhe’ārani, slightly surprised. 

Qatriong followed Guodei back into the room she’d leaned out of and she closed the door. 

Zhe’ārani waited for a bit, leaning against the wall. 

Then there was a muffled scream. 

Zhe’ārani turned the doorknob, but it was locked. She pounded on the door.  

“Don’t come in,” said Guodei, her voice stiff. 

She didn’t hear Qatriong. 

She slammed her shoulder into the wooden door until it splintered around the handle. 

Guodei was sitting on the floor with her back to the door, shoulders shaking. 

A pool of blood was spreading around her. 

Qatriong’s head lay in Guodei’s lap. 

Zhe’ārani screamed. 

Guodei didn’t turn to face her. 

“Qat,” Zhe’ārani gasped, falling down next to her, feeling for her pulse. There was a deep puncture in her chest and blood spilling from the back of her neck too. 

Qatriong was dead. 

Guodei had killed her. 

Zhe’ārani should never have left Qatriong alone with Guodei. She’d known what Guodei was, what she was capable of. She shouldn’t have trusted her not to hurt Qatriong. 

“I’ll kill you!” Zhe’ārani shouted, dropping Qatriong’s hand and drawing her dagger. 

Guodei didn’t lift a hand to defend herself, even as Zhe’ārani brought her knife to her throat. “Do it, then,” she said, her voice hoarse. Her own blood ran from a cut above her eye and welled in scratches down her cheek. 

Qatriong had fought back. 

Zhe’ārani’s hand shook. 

Her knife rested at Guodei’s throat for what felt like both an eternity and a fraction of a second. 

Qatriong was dead. Guodei had killed her. Qatriong’s blood dyed her gloves dark red and was splattered across her uniform. 

Zhe’ārani should have noticed what gloves she was wearing. 

All she had to do was put some pressure on the dagger. 

“Why can’t I do it?” she said, frustrated, her hand still shaking. 

“Because it’s not easy,” said Guodei. “Especially the first time.” She glanced down at Qatriong’s head in her lap. “Especially when it’s someone you know.” 

“Why did you- Why would you- Why-”

Guodei’s lips thinned. “Because Coraniss Qeij ordered me to,” she said finally. “Because she was a traitor and a spy.” 

“But-”

“It’s not… the first time,” said Guodei. “She’s the first spy, I think, but there have been… others. Who were… a bad fit… for Coraniss Sayklee’s army. Who were too resistant, questioned too much. The others don’t remember most of them. You all probably won’t remember Qatriong either. Maybe you’ll be allowed to remember, since she was the first spy, but… most aren’t remembered.” 

She would never forget Qatriong. Never. 

“Does Kaelía know?” asked Zhe’ārani. 

Guodei shook her head. “Not yet. How she reacts will probably impact whether you’re allowed to remember. Sometimes it understands. It trusts Coraniss Qeij’s judgement.” 

“Do you?” 

“Of course.” Guodei’s mouth twisted. “I’m a perfect little soldier. I follow orders. It’s not for me to question our queen and parents.” 

“I hate you,” said Zhe’ārani. “I will always hate you.” 

“I know,” said Guodei. “If you remember,” she added after a minute. 

“I will,” said Zhe’ārani. After this, her decision was very easy.

Following that:

“Have you come to kill me, too?” said Zhe’ārani, reaching for her dagger. 

Guodei made an ambiguous gesture. “I need you to listen to me.” 

“No. If you’re not here to kill me, leave. I don’t want to see you.” She walked away. 

Guodei’s shoved her against the wall. Her gloved hands were wrapped tight around Zhe’ārani’s upper arms. 

Zhe’ārani spat in her face. 

“You need to listen to me,” she repeated insistently. “You’re way too easy to find, Ši Arroakhai Kjú. You need to get further away. Get on an airship, take it to the other side of the world, change every possible identifying feature you have, and disappear.” 

Guodei let her go, but she didn’t move. 

“Why do you care?” 

“Kaelía cares. If I killed you-”

“She would forgive you.”

“But it would break her heart. And maybe-” Guodei’s voice broke. “Maybe I’m having an entire world-shaking crisis, and maybe I don’t know how long I have left to live, and maybe I might want to spend the end of my life free. Maybe I’m tired of killing and tired of hurting my family and tired of being beaten and tired of being nothing but a weapon and a failed experiment. Maybe I don’t want to be a perfect little soldier.” 

“Are you… leaving?” 

“I don’t know yet,” said Guodei. 

“What about the others?” Kaelía, Līs, the people she’d left.

 “I don’t know yet,” Guodei repeated. “I won’t leave them, and I don’t know if they’ll be willing to leave, especially Kaelía. But you have to get further away. Forget about us.”

Moving in:

“I don’t know that you should let me stay here,” Guodei said. She very much wanted to stay with the others, but they had to know what she was, what situation they were putting themselves in. “I’m not some innocent victim.”

“I know your story,” said Niimféo-Elús, concerningly unperturbed.

“Then why are you letting me stay? Why let a monster into your home?”

Niimféo-Elús fixed her with a stern look. “Are you going to hurt anybody here?”

“No,” said Guodei. But did it matter, really? 

No one had ever treated her as if she could choose.

“If you hurt anyone under my roof, you’re out,” said Niimféo-Elús. “But otherwise? We voted about having you all stay with us, and we agreed. I believe in second chances, and offering care, and you’re hardly more than a child. I spent decades as a defense lawyer, and I mostly took youth cases. I’m no stranger to people who have committed acts of violence.”

“Not like me,” said Guodei quietly.

Niimféo-Elús nodded. “Not a lot like you, no, but you all deserve the opportunity to do better, and you all deserve the opportunity to be safe and heal. And, Guodei, people aren’t monsters. People are people- sometimes bad people, but always people.”

Their pet monster:

Kaelía burst into the yard. “There were others.” 

Guodei raised her head from the fish she was gutting. 

“There were others,” Kaelía repeated. “[Matteo]. Konai. So many others.”

Guodei’s brows furrowed briefly. “[Matteo]?” 

“They tried to escape with us,” said Kaelía. “I think… I think they were drowned for it.” 

“I don’t remember that.”

“But you remember the others.” It wasn’t a question. 

Guodei nodded. 

“You killed the others.” 

Guodei sighed and nodded again, putting the fish knife down. 

“Konai was your best friend!” Kaelía shouted. “She was your best friend and you killed her!” 

It was the first time in a very long time that Kaelía had seen Guodei cry. Maybe the first time ever. Guodei didn’t cry. 

She kept going, because she was angry, she was confused, new memories were popping in and out, and she needed someone else to hurt with her, to hurt her back maybe or just to hurt. 

“You let them erase everyone from my memory!” Kaelía was crying now too. Angry tears. “You killed them and then you let me forget them!” 

All but one, all but Konai, and even that had been twisted so much that the memories she’d had had nowhere near resembled reality. She hadn’t remembered that Guodei had killed her. She certainly hadn’t remembered watching Guodei kill her. She hadn’t even remembered what the actual betrayal had been.  

“You’re a monster!” she said, images of Guodei’s gory claws buried in Konai’s stomach and slicing across her throat flashing through her mind. “You and your claws! I- I hate you!” 

“I know that!” Guodei screamed back at her. “Their pet monster! That’s all I am, all I ever have been, maybe all I ever will be! Maybe you should just leave! Maybe you’re better off without me!” 

“Maybe I will!” 

Kaelía stormed out. 

She hadn’t seen Guodei cry since… she didn’t know when. She had been a bit teary-eyed when Kaelía had almost died in that magis storm. Before that… 

She’d made her cry. 

It felt powerful. It also felt bad, now that she’d had time to cool off and to actually process things. 

She didn’t really think Guodei was a monster. That wasn’t true. Or, not more than she was, and even if she was she still loved her. 

She’d made Guodei cry, because she was a bad person, and maybe they were all just bad people stuck hurting each other forever and ever. 

She didn’t hate her, and she didn’t want her to think she did, and she didn’t want Guodei to leave her because of it, so she went back. 

“I don’t think you’re a monster,” she said. 

“You should.” 

“I don’t hate you, anyway.” 

“I know.” 

“Are you mad at me?”

“A little. You said cruel things that you knew would hurt me. Are you still mad at me?”

“A little.” She sat down on the porch next to Guodei. “I wanted to hurt you. But now I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

 [Author’s note: as things currently are, Kaelía probably does remember at least Konai’s death accurately, but I like this scene so I’m not removing it]

Don't go back

(content notice: swearing)

“I’m going to go back,” said Kaelía.

Guodei had been afraid of this. 

“Why?” she said. “What can they give you that we can’t? What makes them worth your loyalty?”

Kaelía scowled at her. “Not out of loyalty, dumbass. I’m going back to spy and sabotage. And I’m going to win. I’m going to protect Līs and get revenge and maybe even save Zhe’ārani.”

“It should be me,” said Guodei. It was her job to be the protector.

“No. They wouldn’t accept you back. They’d just kill you. They’ll take me back, though. They’ll want to believe me.”

“They’ll kill you if they find out,” said Guodei.

“I know.”

“You can’t,” said Guodei, and immediately knew she’d made a mistake. Kaelía never took kindly to being told what it could and couldn’t do. Now that it had broken from Coraniss Sayklee and Gētnyx, there was probably no one in the world it would take orders or rules from.

Kaelía’s eyes flashed. “Fuck off. Sure I can.” It got up and turned away, but before it left, it said, “And I’ll kill them, Guodei, for what they did to us.”

Medical care:

“You need to go to the hospital," Nesyue said.

Guodei groaned. Words could not express how much she did not want to do that.

“I can’t do any more for you,” Nesyue continued. “I can’t save you. You need proper medical care, from people with real training and better equipment.” 

“Retmiq won’t live,” said Guodei. “Why should I? He deserves it more than me. I’d trade my life for his in an instant.” 

“Hey,” Retmiq said sharply, hurt flashing across his face. “For the record, I also think you should go to the hospital. It’s your choice, your life, but you don’t get to use my terminal illness to support that. And I don’t think you deserve to die slowly and painfully out of self-hatred. I don’t deserve to die slowly and painfully either, but I don’t have any choice in whether I’ll live- so actually, I’ll probably go for euthanasia when it reaches that point!- and you at least have some kind of options, so don’t pretend it’s exactly the same, because it’s not.”

"I'm sorry," said Guodei. She felt like she had broken something in their pact. "I didn't mean... I shouldn't have said that."

"No," said Retmiq. "You shouldn't have."

"They'll want to know what all this is about, and they'll do surgery, and..." Guodei trailed off, trying to shove away memories of the sterile lab in which she'd been made. "I just... What could they even do to help, anyway? And why should they waste time on me?"

"Because that's their job," said Nesyue. "Dammit, Guodei, I don't want to watch you die, and I don't want to watch Kaelía watch you die."

"Because you could live," said Retmiq. "They can do a lot, you know."

"They can't save you," said Guodei. "They can't do enough." She really had grown close with Retmiq. It hurt to think of him dying.

"Yeah," said Retmiq quietly. "But- they'll be able to help me, still, when it's time. Help with the pain, and- and everything. They'll be able to help you with the pain too, and probably they can at the very least take out the wings, and they'll have stronger magic than Nesyue, at least."