writing blog

"How is Chito’s training?”

Noctin looked up quickly as Shiron joined him on the roof of the small house, then looked down at the ground as she sat beside him. “I don’t think I’m a very good teacher,” he admitted quietly. “It would be better if he was being trained by a real- by another Desolate.”

He wasn’t trying to beat himself up over it, it was just true. He’d barely been able to get a grasp on the broad aspects of his abilities before he’d had to leave the Desolates. He knew more about how to teach Chito how to physically fight than he did how to use their powers.

And then of course he was simply afraid. Afraid he might hurt someone. Afraid he might tell Chito to do the wrong thing. Afraid he might pass on poison from the Hunters.

Shiron hummed. “He looks up to you.” Noctin risked a glance at her, finding her looking up at the night sky. When he didn’t answer, she chuckled, though it lacked humor. “Honestly it was probably for the better that you turned up on our doorstep. He was ready to leave and find someone to teach him.”

“Is that why you let us stay?” Noctin asked.

“One reason,” she said, making Noctin blink in surprise at the straightforward answer.

“What were the other reasons?” he asked after a moment, testing the waters.

“Mika,” she said flatly. “I don’t know what it is about that kid, but she’s got a knack for people. Can tell who’s got good in their heart and who doesn’t.”

Noctin agreed. There was something about Mika, he knew. Though whether she simply had excellent intuition or it was something more, only time would tell.

“And then there was you and Alé.”

Faint amusement flickered through him upon hearing that. “Us? You wanted us to leave,” he teased lightly.

Shiron flashed him a narrow eyed smile and nudged at him with her elbow. “Yeah, I did. At first I was just thinking of Chito and Mika and how I didn’t want to put them in danger, but while you were healing I realized that sending you both back out would put you in danger too.” She shook her head. “You’re both still little. Maybe not as much as Chito and Mika, but you shouldn’t have to fend for yourselves. Especially not against the Hunters.”

A lump rose in Noctin’s throat. “You risked a lot letting us stay,” he murmured.

Shiron shook her head. “It was the right thing to do. If I could go back I’d do it again and make myself take you in without being an ass about it. Which I’m sorry for, by the way.”

“No it’s okay,” Noctin said firmly. “You were just trying to protect your kids from the Hunters. It’s- it’s exactly what you should have done.”

“Hm,” Shiron said, then reached over to pull him into a one armed hug. “And now I have two more kids to protect.” Tears flooded Noctin’s eyes, seeping into Shiron’s shirt. He stayed silent, not trusting himself to speak.

“Raksha!”

Raksha flashed an irritatingly bright smile back at her. “I need you to stay here okay? I got this.”

She sounded so damn sure of herself, and before Sahmira could even answer, she was gone. An exasperated huff left her. It was good Raksha was starting to come out of her shell. The other girl even had a personality now, though it swung wildly between tentative and reckless.

She glared over at Roen. “If she gets caught it’s your fault.”

Roen cackled, her smile all sharp teeth. “It’s just swiping Koe’s declaration of love.”

Sahmira’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t even know if he likes you.”

“Which is why I need the note.”

“Then you should have gotten it yourself!”

Roen scoffed, waving a hand at her. “You know how bad I am at sneaking around.”

A snort left Sahmira and she rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I’m surprised you haven’t already walked up and demanded an answer from him.”

“That’s rude-”

“Spirits help me.”

“-and this is more fun anyways.”

Soft footsteps snagged Sahmira’s attention. Both of them looked sharply over as Raksha rounded the corner, a wicked gleam in her eyes and a teasing smile on her face. She gave Sahmira a faint nod.

Roen leaped to her feet. “Did you get it?”

“Yep,” Raksha said, lifting a small piece of paper. Roen bolted over, but Raksha lifted the note high above her head out of Roen’s reach.

“Raksha come on!” Roen whined, jumping uselessly to try to snag it. “You read it didn’t you!” she accused.

Raksha’s grin only grew. Sahmira, though she had an idea of what was really happening, had to admit she was curious. Very. Curious. Standing up, she slunk over to the two of them. As Raksha lowered it to avoid Roen, Sahmira lunged, grabbing Raksha’s arm and pulling it down, quickly snatching the note out of her hand.

“Hey!”

“Sahmira!”

Smirking at them, she lowered her gaze to the now very crumpled note. A bark of laughter quickly left her, making Roen rush to her. Sahmira backed up quickly, holding a hand out to stop Roen. She cleared her throat and, in her best impression of Koe, began to read.

“Roen,” she drawled. “Your smile is radiant as the sun, your eyes as stunning as the desert sand at dawn-”

“Shit does it actually say that?” Roen interrupted, trying to push closer, color rising in her cheeks.

Sahmira snickered, holding the paper out of her reach, and continued. “You’re the funniest person I know and,” her voice dropped to conspiratorial whisper as she leaned in closer to Roen, making direct eye contact. “I love you.”

Raksha was near tears, trying desperately to stifle her laughter as she rested a hand on Roen’s shoulder. Roen snatched the note out of Sahmira’s hand, immediately scanning it with wide eyes. Sahmira took a couple steps back as realization flashed across Roen’s face.

“THAT’S NOT WHAT IT SAYS!” she screeched, tossing the note aside and lunging at Sahmira.

There were a thousand things he could have done differently if he’d just been a little more brave, a little more of a leader, just a little more worthy of his title and award.

How could he have let the execution get so far?

The helmet hit the table with a heavy thunk as he dropped it to wipe roughly at his eyes.

How had he not realized sooner it was the 212th?

“Wasn’t your fault,” Cody had said after he had dragged himself to face his friend, shattering as he apologized for killing his men, his brothers. “It was a horrible trick, it wasn’t your fault vod, it wasn’t.”

But that didn’t stop the nightmares where instead of facing Waxer, he was facing Cody, watching him draw his last breath, knowing that he could have stopped it if only if only if only-

He dropped the paintbrush onto the table and picked the helmet back up. They didn’t trust him anymore. And why should they? He’d failed not only in allowing the execution to get too far, but he hadn’t pulled the trigger either. Or rather, he’d pulled it too late. If Dogma had just waited one more second-

It wasn’t Dogma’s fault. He couldn’t blame his cowardice on Dogma having the strength to not hesitate.

He ran his thumb over the barely raised patches of paint.

He was not worthy of this mark anymore.

Fingers curling, he scratched the remainder of the eye off. Chips of paint stabbed under his fingernails, flaking away in pieces as broken as himself, drifting toward the floor until the lie was gone.

Staring at the now empty space, something akin to relief crept into his battered heart. He no longer bore a mark that wasn’t true. Nobody was going to look at him now and be able to scoff at a lie.

He set the helmet down and wiped at his eyes again. He would prove himself worthy of their trust again. Some bonds were broken beyond repair, but perhaps they could be healed. He could work harder, be better, win their trust back. He had to.

“What’s that color?”

Petal found her staring at the small can of reddish pink paint he was using. “It’s like a rose color,” he decided after a moment. “Have you ever seen a rose before?” She shook her head. “It’s a kind of flower,” he explained, a half smile creeping across his face. “The prettiest ones are this color.”

“It’s a pretty color,” she murmured, edging forward. She reached one small hand for the paint, then dipped her fingers into it. Pulling her hand out, she studied the paint dripping down her palm. A tiny smile crept onto her face. “This is my favorite color.”

“Oh yeah?” Petal asked, amusement flickering through him.

“Yeah,” she decided, smearing the paint across her hands and down her arms.

Alarm flashed through Petal. “Why are you doing that?” he asked, reaching out to stop her. The long necks wouldn’t like a paint covered cadet returning to them. He was going to have to clean her off before they got back to Kamino. Luckily they still had a couple hours before that, but armor paint was a pain to clean off.

She blinked up at him. “I don’t have armor to paint,” she said as though it were obvious.

Petal stopped, then withdrew, a weary chuckle leaving him as the simple answer defused his stress. “Okay I see,” he said, considering his armor for a moment before pushing the biggest piece, his breastplate, toward her. “Here, why don’t you help me paint mine instead?”

Surprise flashed across her face, her hand freezing on her arm. “Really?” she asked, awestruck.

“Sure,” he said with a smile. “You can practice for when you get your own.” Staring at the breastplate, she reached out slowly and took it, resting it in her lap. “I don’t have another brush,” Petal admitted after glancing around uselessly for a spare. “But you can use this one.”

“Can’t I use my hands?” she asked.

Petal relented. She was already covered in the stuff. A little more wasn’t going to change anything. “Yeah why not,” he said, moving the paint can to rest between them.

She shifted uncertainly, gingerly moving the breastplate so as not to get any paint on it. “Do you want it to look like anything?” she asked carefully.

“Nah,” Petal said, waving a hand dismissively. “Knock yourself out, kid.” She was already a bundle of nerves. No point making it worse.

Cautiousness vanishing, she grinned widely and thrust her fingers into the paint. Petal watched for a moment, amusement and affection swelling in his chest as she spattered pink haphazardly over the dull, off white armor, then went back to his own work.

“Did you pick your name because you like roses?” she asked, curiosity suddenly bursting from her like fireworks.

A laugh escaped Petal. “No, not quite, but I do like roses.”

“I want to see a rose someday. A pink one, like this. Are other flowers this color?”

“Oh yes,” Petal chuckled. “Once you get off Kamino for good, you’ll get to see plenty of flowers that are all kinds of colors.”

She clapped her hands together excitedly, sending little specks of paint flying. “I can’t wait! What’s your favorite color?”

A snort left Petal and he waved toward his helmet, which was carefully painted pink, red, and purple. “Take a guess.”

She paused in her painting, reddish pink hand hovering over the breastplate for a moment before reaching out hesitantly toward the helmet. She stopped before she touched it. “It’s pretty,” she whispered, then quickly drew her hand back to her chest. “Do you have those colors?”

“Yeah,” Petal said, glancing back toward the open cabinet where the other paints were. “You want them?” She nodded quickly, the excitement from before sparking back to life around her.

Hauling himself to his feet, Petal made his way over to grab the paints. “Are any of the other cadets going to join us?” he asked as he opened the red and purple cans and set them down.

She didn’t answer, save for a shrug as she dipped her fingers into the purple, then silently went about tracing the paint onto the armor, small shoulders hunched over as she worked. The bursting, colorful aura had vanished again, retreating into her. Something was there between her and the other cadets. Petal waited.

“They all already have names chosen,” she said quietly. “I don’t.”

Taking his brush back up, Petal dipped it into the red. “Names take time to find,” he said. “Some people take longer than others.”

“But it’s embarrassing!” she burst out. “They all get to say their names and I still have to use my number.”

Empathy twinged through Petal. “Yeah that can be hard,” he admitted. The pressure to choose a name was heavy, to say the least, being one of the very few ways they had to claim an identity. “Have you thought of any names you like?”

She shrugged again, working the purple into the pink. “I don’t know. I don’t want something stupid like Storm or Rain because that’s all that’s on Kamino. There’s more things out here and I want to see them before I choose.”

Petal knew for a fact that the farthest she’d been outside Kamino was this cruiser for the tour. She really hadn’t seen much of the outside galaxy yet. “There’s a lot outside Kamino. Even I haven’t been everywhere.”

“I want to go everywhere,” she said, brushing her hair out of her face. Purple smudged across her cheek, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Deciding against shooting her hopes down, Petal nodded slightly. Who knew, maybe the war would end and she would be able to. “You’ll be able to see a lot of new things then.”

“Like paint,” she grinned, stretching her pink and purple stained hands out toward him and waving.

“Yeah, like paint,” Petal laughed, waving his brush back at her.

“You should use your hands. It’s more fun,” she said decisively.

Petal’s painting slowed. Was he really going to get paint all over his hands just to please this cadet? It wasn’t even a question.

“You’re absolutely right,” he declared, putting the brush on the ground. Reaching for the purple, he could feel her watching with razor sharp eyes. The paint felt cold and wet against his skin and dripped messily everywhere. Cleanup was going to be a nightmare.

Grabbing one of his shin guards, he spread his paint covered fingers over the hard surface. Satisfaction was rolling off the cadet in waves, as if the smile on her face wasn’t testament enough of her pleasure at getting the commander of all people to fingerpaint with her.

They settled, contentedly smudging and smearing and tracing away, trading stories and facts until Petal felt the faint tremor that meant they were coming out of hyperspace.

“Alright little one we gotta get you cleaned up,” he said, setting his piece of armor aside and flexing his fingers against the stiffness of the half dried paint.

She pouted. “Can’t I stay a little longer?” she asked, giving him the same look Scree’s dog did when it wanted something.

“Afraid not kiddo. We have to get you cadets back.” He stood up and made his way over to the sink.

She rolled her eyes and set the piece of armor she’d been working on aside, then stood up, admiring her painted arms and hands as she wandered over to him. “Can’t I keep it?”

To be honest, Petal wouldn’t be surprised if the colors had stained her skin and allowed her to keep the ghost of the real colors for a day or two. “Maybe some of it,” he said, ushering her to the sink. “We’ll see.”

The scrubbing wasn’t as bad as Petal thought it would be. The paint came off reasonably well, and, just as he’d guessed, if someone looked close enough they would be able to see a faint reddish purple tinge to her arms and hands. Delight streamed from her like sunlight. “It’s still there!”

“Yeah a little,” he chuckled, leading her out into the hallway to take her back to the group. “You’ll have proof that you got to paint armor like a real trooper.”

She laughed, skipping down the hallway beside him, every trace of the nervous kid who’d peeked in a couple hours ago gone. “They’re gonna be so jealous! I got to paint the commander’s armor,” she said with relish.

Amusement flooded Petal. She was going to be holding that over her team’s head for a while.

“Will we see each other again?” she suddenly asked, looking up at him.

The question startled him, though he should have seen it coming. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. They were very busy. Missions like this where they simply showed the top cadets around were few and far in between. And then of course there was the fact that he might not make it out of a battle.

“Oh,” she mumbled, gaze dropping to the floor.

Petal felt his heart crack. He didn’t have the strength of will that some people did when it came to making promises he likely couldn’t keep. “Hey,” he said gently, smiling down at her. “Tell you what, if I’m ever around Kamino I’ll see if I can see you. How’s that sound?”

Her expression lit up and she bounced in place. “Yes! Good! And then I can tell you when I get my name!”

"Nobody is strong enough to stop this. Not even you," Sahmira said urgently, her grip on Raksha’s arm tightening painfully. Raksha let her gaze fall to the floor, unable to meet Sahmira’s pleading gaze.

"It doesn't matter," she said quietly. "You know what I am. What I represent." She shook her head slightly. "This is what I have to do."

"No it's what you've been told you have to do," Sahmira snapped before her voice broke and she closed the distance between them, gently cupping Raksha's face in her hands. "Raksha please listen to me," she whispered. "You can't save the kingdom by yourself. It's impossible."

"It’s not my choice," Raksha whispered, trying to ignore the lump in her throat. "I've told you before, my life belongs to our people. I can't-" she broke off, blinking hard. "I was never going to escape this destiny."

“Raksha-”

“Sahmira please,” she said desperately, reaching over to take Sahmira’s hands in hers. “I don’t have a choice. Not when my life can save thousands. It’s not my choice to make, it’s just the right thing to do, and it doesn’t matter if I am strong enough, it just matters that everyone thinks I am.” She broke off as the ugly truth escaped, her throat closing as tears burned her eyes. She knew she wasn’t strong enough to do what they wanted without losing herself.

Sahmira was silent, staring at her with wide eyes swimming with tears.

“Don’t cry.” The plea left Raksha in a whimper as her body betrayed her, sending hot tears down her cheeks. Sahmira blinked hard, then rushed forward to wrap her in a tight embrace.

“Raksha you’re not fighting alone. We are all with you and we will stand and fight by your side.” Raksha felt her grip tighten. “So don’t you dare try to fight this alone. I won’t let you.”

“But there’s a way I can do it by myself. Nobody else would have to risk themselves. If I just-”

“No.” The word left Sahmira in a snarl. Raksha looked up to find fury twisting her face. “You hate that form. You always say it makes you into a monster. I hate it when you’re in that much pain.”

“Maybe the kingdom needs a monster,” Raksha replied dully. She could feel the memory of the late leader at her back, his fingers digging into her shoulder. Don’t be selfish, he would say. Only you have the power to turn all of this around.

“They already fear us. Making them fear us more won’t help us, Raksha,” Sahmira said. Raksha knew she was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to take. It was never going to be easy to take.

“Then I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, her heart aching with shame.

“We’ll figure it out,” Sahmira said, resting her forehead against Raksha’s. “Trust me.”