"You ask that I fight for you.", the remarkably large Feline asked, shaking the girl from her thoughts.
Mountain had requested that they take a walk to the grasslands near Captain Hill. He'd claimed to have seen such sights in the nomadic journeys of his home and prison, and yearned to set foot in one such place one day when he was free from Mansfield.
Mountain kneeled down to eye-level with Missy, blue eyes looking into emerald green. His brows furrowed as his mighty paws grasped Missy's hands with surprising gentleness she had not imagined possible.
"To protect you is one thing Missy; but to fight for you, to knowingly aid your… crusade. That is another."
Missy's expression morphed into one of surprise and disappointment, but the large tiger-man continued before she could respond.
"I would always defend a child. Everything I've read about this… 'Empire', it makes me detest them as much as you do.", his words came, measured and even in tone.
Slowly, he rose from his kneeling position, taking a few steps before turning to stare into the distance.
"I lost my parents too Missy. I know the desire for revenge. I know it like a dear old friend.", Mountain turned to face Missy, her eyebrows still raised in shock at the revelation. "… Nothing else kept me quite as alive in Mansfield." he continued in a quiet tone, voice tinged with sorrow.
"But I will not, cannot in good conscience let you walk the path I took."
Mountain's seeming rejection shook Missy from her reverie, her expression morphed from shock to one of anger and frustration.
His figure towering over her, Missy watched as Mountain's eyes hardened, staring intently into her own, as if searching for something in her, "I slayed my foes, forced them to watch as all they built, all they had held dear burnt to the ground… and it did not end my pain."
"You won't change my mind.", she spat from grit teeth, voice filled with grim determination. "And I'm not doing this for myself!", the young girl yelled, Mountain almost feeling the fire in her eyes.
A brief silence fell, Missy watched the large Feline's face in simmering indignation for any hint of a reaction, before she noticed his eyes wander and settle on the quaint white mark on her otherwise featureless black armour. "I know. Not only for yourself, at least."
Three lances between the heads of two horses and a shield, themselves laying within a shield. The coat of arms of House Nearl that Missy wore on her chest plate. An honour granted by her former mentor Margaret Nearl, the Radiant Knight of Kazimierz.
"I may not be Kazimierzian, but even I had read of the legendary Kirill Nearl and his Silverlance Pegasi. Read the poems and songs that sang of the glorious light that turned night into day, of the sacrifice they'd paid for their country and honour."
"That golden light saw them through the dark night and into the dawn, but it could not save him nor his men from the price they paid. '8 in number they marched into the night, 41 sworn brothers and sisters they'd become at twilight, only 7 they stood past the shine of first light.'".
"They say Kirill Nearl returned a man changed in both body and spirit, despite knowing that this was the only possible outcome.", Mountain ended with a hushed tone.
Abruptly, Mountain turned, slow and heavy paces walking towards the edge of the field the two stood before stopping once more.
Missy watched his arms rise slowly as the great Feline took a deep breath, standing as if he were welcoming the setting sun in the orange and pink-hued skies of Brockton Bay.
"I know I cannot persuade you otherwise, young knight. Prove your worth, and I will aid you in the destruction of your foes." came Mountain's words with a weight Missy could feel as the Feline arched his head to look at her from the peripheral of his vision.
"Come then, show me. Show me the one who bears the legacy of the Golden Pegasus in this world." Missy swore she heard something almost akin to eagerness in Mountain's voice. "Show me… what the successor of the Radiant Knight of Kazimierz can do.", the Mountain of Mansfield demanded as the chains that wrapped his wrists dropped with a resounding rattle.
Figured I'd post this here too. Got a little carried away imagining what would happen if we summoned Mountain as our next Operator!
The main inspiration for this omake was to be what I imagined would be a 'demo' of a hypothetical challenge that we might face when recruiting a newly summoned Operator. I always found it an excellent narrative improvement from the previous PQs that summoned Operators here are real people who may be reluctant to fight upon being summoned and who require persuasion or sufficient trust before siding with Missy in the various conflicts she's involved in. In this omake, it is Mountain, the cultured, even-tempered killing machine hailing from Columbia and a 6-star Operator, having recently exacted his vengeance upon those who have wronged him and killed his beloved parents.
Hey guys, sorry for the wait. I'm going to do my level best to wrench it into a more consistent schedule from now on, although it will probably no longer be once a week.
Also, this chapter just took longer than usual because it's… special.
Saturday, Dec. 25, 2010 (Christmas!)
A crimson void overflowing in dark fog.
The sensation of falling, sinking. Deep, deeper, and yet deeper still, submerging into the depths of the fog unlike ever before.
Drowning, as sight is covered by the all-encompassing fog, the rest of the senses following soon after, and then...
"Grandpa! Look, look!"
Childish laughter and chirping birds, verdant grass and tall trees, the walls of the manor visible in the distance, and the morning sun shining brightly overhead.
An old man, sitting on a bench by a fountain, a cane held between weathered hands and a gentle smile upon his scarred face, one of his eyes milky white and unseeing as he watched over two little kurantian girls running and playing in the courtyard, the older child carrying a much younger one on a red wagon, both of them laughing in joy as they were chased around by a pet hound.
"Maria! Go on without me, I'll stay back and buy us time!" the older girl - around ten years old - exclaimed as she let go of the wagon to stand between it and the approaching canine, brandishing a comically blunt wooden sword.
The dark hound - about as tall as she was - halted in its tracks with a bark and lowered its head and front legs to the ground, its tail raised and wagging excitedly.
"Back, you mad beast! I say back! You'll never get to her!" the older child bravely proclaimed, her mighty blade raised in determination.
As if sensing a challenge, the canine pounced, tackling her to the ground and licking her face without mercy, the girl's loud peals of laughter echoing across the yard.
"Maria, help! I'm under attack!" she cried out in laughter, seeking rescue at the hands of her wayward squire.
"Maggie! I save ya!" the younger child - barely three years old at most - exclaimed upon being called by her companion knight. Unmounting gracefully from her crimson chariot, she slowly wobbled over to her fallen comrade, a small wooden shield held protectively in front of her.
The small child came to a stop next to the maddened beast, raising both arms high into the sky before letting loose a mighty roar, causing the beast to halt its relentless assault to turn toward the intrepid squire.
Sensing the beast's intent to test her mettle, the young squire unleashed an even mightier roar, which had seemingly no effect. Changing tactics, she tried softly bonking the beast in the face with her shield, which caused it to flee, most likely running for its life.
"Good job, Maria! That was great!" the young knight congratulated as she rose to her feet. "Your turn now, little squire," she said as she handed her mighty blade to her squire and allowed her to climb onto her back, before chasing after the fleeing beast, intent on finally defeating it.
"Waaaaaagh!" was little Maria's mighty warcry as her new stalwart steed chased after the beast, her tail wagging excitedly and her borrowed blade pointing onwards, leading them towards victory.
As they both lay on the grass, the older girl panting from exhaustion, tired after having succeeded in their great quest to defeat the fell beast (which was now snoring under the shade of a tree next to them), she turned towards her faithful squire sitting on the grass by her side and asked; "What do you think, Maria? Do you think we're ready to be knights?"
"Yeahh!" was little Maria's gleeful response.
"That's the spirit! What say you, grandpa? Can you train us now?" the girl asked, turning towards their approaching grandfather with a pleading expression.
The old man chuckled, laugh lines creasing his face. "Perhaps, perhaps. You certainly don't seem to lack the spirit, little knight. Though I'd say you need to grow just a little more before you're ready," the man said, pinching his forefinger and thumb together in a gesture.
"Aww…" both of them pouted in response. "That's not fair! I'm already big enough. Why must I be bigger?" the older girl whined.
The old man chuckled, carefully getting down on one knee to meet her eyes and placing a hand on her shoulder. "A true knight is a shining beacon for all to see, Margaret. A bright light that banishes the darkness and inspires their allies. You can't exactly be inspiring if most people have trouble seeing you, now can you?" he lightly teased, patting her head with a gentle smile.
Little Margaret pouted at that. "Then I'll shine even brighter! So that everyone will see me, no matter how small I am!" she boldly proclaimed in defiance, to which her little sister cheered.
The old man reared his head back with a hearty laugh. "Good! That's very good! Keep that bold spirit with you and you might just– do so–" he cut off, breaking into a coughing fit and covering his mouth with a fist.
Both girls frowned in concern at the sight. "Are you okay, grandpa Kirill?" Margaret asked.
The man waved her off. "Nothing to worry about, dear. Merely my years catching up to me, that's all," he replied, standing back up with the help of his cane.
"Come along now, I think it's about time you two head inside. Little Maria certainly looks like she could use a bath right now," he wryly said, pointing his cane at the mud-covered child, who responded with a joyous cry.
Margaret winced at that. "Oh. Ehehehe. My bad…" she sheepishly apologized as she picked up her little sister and carried her in her arms.
The old man shook his head fondly. "Tell me, Margaret, why do you wish to be a knight? It is not an easy or safe path to follow, nor is it for the faint of heart. You understand that, correct?" he asked as they walked back to the manor.
"I know that, grandpa. I've heard the tales. I'm still certain that's what I want to do. I wanna follow in the footsteps of our family," the girl replied, sounding oddly resolute for someone so young.
The old man sighed with a smile. "So young and yet so determined. Not even your father had this much courage at your age. There is much the tales don't tell, you know? This profession of ours is not as glamorous as people make it out to be, especially as of late."
"What do you mean by that, grandpa?" She asked with a curious tilt of her head.
Kirill seemed to get a wistful look at that. "The ideals of knighthood have… slowly eroded over the years. Nowadays it's all about fighting for fame and fortune. Things used to be different, once upon a time."
The girl stared at him in confusion, which caused him to sigh with a shake of his head. "Bah, look at me, complaining about the old days to my grandchildren like some washed-up fossil. Don't mind this old man's ramblings, dear. Perhaps you'll understand when you're older."
The girl frowned, a pensive look on her face as she mulled over his words, trying to make sense of them. "So… the knights today are selfish and greedy, and don't know the real meaning of knighthood anymore? That sounds… foolish. Why are people foolish, grandpa?"
The man halted in his tracks, a stunned expression on his face as he stared at his granddaughter in stupefaction, before breaking down into loud, raucous cackles.
"Grandpa?" The girl stared in confusion, wondering if she said something wrong.
"Hahahah! Foolish, she says! Oh, little knight, you certainly don't take after that dunderhead father of yours. He certainly would not have grasped the meaning of my words at your age, that's for sure!" He wiped a mirthful tear from his eye, before pausing and turning to look at her with a much more calculating look.
"Hm... Perhaps you are more ready than I thought, after all. We can get you started a little early with the first lessons, if nothing else," the man mused.
"Really?!" Margaret jumped in excitement, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes as Maria cheered for her as well.
The man smiled at her, affectionately patting her head. "Yes, really. Though nothing combat related, of course. You're still much too young for that."
She nodded enthusiastically in response, causing the little girl in her arms to laugh. "That's okay, grandpa. Any training is still training!"
The old man rolled his eyes with a huff of amusement. "Yes, yes. Quite the eager little thing, aren't you? Tell you what, little knight. Later today, we can go out to a special place and I'll teach you all about our family's line of work. Though we'll have to leave little Maria in your uncle's care. How does that sound to you?"
Although little Maria whined dejectedly at being left out, Margaret's deafening squeals of excitement were more than enough of an answer.
"Whoa… What is that place, grandpa?" Margaret asked in amazement later that afternoon as her grandfather led her across the streets of Kazimierz and into a large, ancient-looking building decorated with many fancy banners hanging from its entrance.
Kirill smiled and gestured at the building with his cane. "This here is a memorial hall. Specifically, the Silverlance Memorial Hall, a place where all the great knights of Kazimierz are cherished and remembered for their noble deeds and sacrifices. Though it doesn't see all that much traffic nowadays, unfortunately. Ah, that's our cue now," he said as they approached the building and three armored knights guarding the entrance came into view.
The one standing in the middle stepped forward and took off his helmet, before quickly kneeling and crossing an arm across his heart in salute, his two companions quickly following suit.
"Grandmaster Kirill, young miss, it is our utmost honor to welcome you into our halls. We've received your message and have prepared the facilities in advance. We hope that you'll find them to your satisfaction," the young knight in the middle greeted them, his tone one of near reverence.
"At ease, soldier. On your feet, I'm getting too old for all the fancy ceremonial stuff," Kirill replied.
"Of course, sir," the man immediately agreed, all three of them standing up in short order.
Off to the side, little Margaret's brain seemed to be exploding in slow motion, if her wide-eyed look of stupefaction was any indication.
"What's your name, son?" her grandfather asked.
"Liam, sir. If I may be so bold, could I ask for the reason for your visit? You didn't clarify in your message, and it's quite rare to see you out and about nowadays," Liam respectfully replied with a nod and asked in return.
"Well, Liam, if you must know, I'm here to teach my granddaughter about the family business, so to speak," Kirill explained.
Liam's eyes widened in understanding, turning to Margaret with a smile. "Ah, of course. Quite the early age to do so, isn't it?"
The girl pouted defiantly in response. "It matters not, I shall shine the brightest regardless!"
"Indeed," her grandfather ruffled her hair with a chuckle. "She seems determined to follow in our footsteps no matter what I say, so I thought I'd set her on the right track while I still have the opportunity. Youth is as youth does, after all."
"Of course. I will look forward to you joining the Adeptus when the time comes, little one," the young knight replied with a light smile, before turning to Kirill and asking; "Will you require any assistance during your visit, sir? Perhaps you would like a guided tour?"
Her grandfather waved him off. "That won't be necessary. I know it's been quite a few years, but I still know my way around the place. I'd like to do this myself, if possible."
"That is perfectly understandable, sir. The facilities have been cleared out for the rest of the day for you. Feel free to take as much time as necessary, and If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask," Liam explained.
Kirill raised an eyebrow in response. "I don't remember making a reservation for the entire building. I simply called ahead to let your people know I'd be coming over."
"We know, sir. The site managers felt that you'd appreciate the discretion nonetheless," Liam sheepishly apologized.
The old man sighed at that, pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering under his breath. "Ugh, fine, fine. Let's move along, Margaret. We have quite some things to see," he grumbled and gestured ahead of them with his cane.
Margaret followed after him with a cheer, waving to the knights on their way in.
The ancient memorial hall was absolutely massive, yet still kept in perfect condition and filled to the brim with countless relics of their homeland's history, Margaret noted as they walked across the many great halls and exhibits. Stopping at many painted works, weapons and written tales of ancient knights, her eyes shone with wonder and intellectual curiosity as she asked dozens of questions about each and every thing that caught her interest, her grandfather always seeming to have an answer.
It was, in Margaret's opinion, the best day ever.
Eventually, they came to a stop in front of the entrance to a different hall, a much wider one lined with statues of heroic figures in armor.
"'Fear neither hardship nor darkness,'" Margaret read the inscription atop the doorway with a curious tilt of her head, which caused her grandfather to chuckle with a knowing smile before he led them in.
"Whooaa…" the girl uttered in amazement upon seeing the great statues lining the halls, all of them beautifully carved with incredible detail, wielding all manner of weapons and knightly armor, many of them sporting metallic wings that shone with golden light, an effect accomplished with the careful positioning of small reflectors at the base of the statues.
"Who were they, grandpa?" Margaret asked, her tone full of wonder.
"Why don't you find out for yourself? Go on, take a closer look," Kirill said with a mischievous grin, pointing his cane at the plaque on the base of one of the statues.
The little girl did so, quietly muttering to herself as she slowly read the plaque and promptly froze with a gasp. Quickly, she ran over to the next statue, only to gasp again. This process went on for a while as she ran across the entire hall, darting from statue to statue until she read all of their plaques, then all but sprinted back towards her grandfather once she was done.
"They're all Nearls! They're our family's knights!" the girl exclaimed in excitement, stars practically dancing in her eyes.
"Indeed they are," the man chuckled as he affectionately patted her head. "All of our family's heroes are recorded in this hall. Their tales and exploits, preserved for future generations to learn from."
Nearl rapidly nodded in excitement, pointing towards one of the statues. "Why do some of them have wings, grandpa?"
Kirill raised an amused eyebrow in response. "What, you thought we were called Pegasian just for show? Watch, little knight, there is a reason for why our lineage is a noble one," he said as he walked to stand next to one of the statues and struck a pose to mirror them, his cane heroically pointing towards the horizon as great golden wings of light sprouted from his back.
Little Margaret squealed in excitement and darted around him to see the wings from up close.
"Not too shabby for an old man, eh?" He joked with a lopsided smile.
"Grandpa! You didn't tell me we could fly!" Margaret exclaimed in amazement.
The old man reared his head back in raucous laughter, his wings dissipating as he abandoned his previous pose. "Oh, little knight, if only! All of my campaigns would've been so much easier if I was simply able to soar through the skies like an eagle!"
"So… we can't fly?" the girl asked dejectedly, her shoulders slumping.
"I'm afraid not," he patted her back comfortingly. "Perhaps, once upon a time, our great ancestors were able to, but these wings of ours are just for show, unfortunately. They are simply a manifestation of our golden bloodline; an expression of our Arts. They don't actually do anything other than look good. At best, I could poke someone with them, but it'd be as strong as a tickle."
"Aww…" the little girl whined, before pausing. "But wait, why do only some of them have wings? Why don't I have wings?" she looked up at him with a pout.
"Ah, to be quite honest, nobody truly knows. There are many theories, however. Some say that only those particularly talented in our Arts are able to manifest them, while others say they are granted to us when we prove ourselves worthy, or that only those with great strength of character may earn them," he lectured.
"There are many examples across our history that both prove and disprove this. Even rare cases of children, elderly, and everyone in between obtaining them seemingly at random and for no reason. At the end of the day, it's essentially up to chance, so I would not worry about it much; you either get them or don't, which either way doesn't affect your capability as a knight," he explained with a shrug.
"But grandpa! They're so pretty!" Margaret whined with a pout.
Kirill smiled sweetly at her. "Perhaps, perhaps. Regardless, we aren't here to talk about our wings. There is a much more important matter I wished to discuss."
"What's that, grandpa?" she asked with curiosity.
"Tell me, Margaret, what do you see here?" he asked, his tone uncharacteristically serious as he gestured at the exhibits around them.
"Uhm… statues?" she replied with a tilt of her head.
"Yes, little knight, but what else?" he prodded, motioning encouragingly with his hand.
"...A hall?" she responded in confusion.
Kirill sighed, palming his face. "You know, I only just now realized that I had this talk with your father back when he was fifteen, and even he couldn't figure it out. I should not have expected any different from you, especially since you are much younger. Goes to show that the whole 'wise mentor' routine is a load of nonsense," he grumbled under his breath, which caused the girl to give him a funny look.
"Bah, nevermind that," he waved her off. "The point I was trying to make is that most people only look at the great monuments and tributes, only seeing the glory associated with being a knight. They tend to forget the many painful sacrifices and hardships we endure."
"Sacrifices?" Margaret asked.
He grimly nodded in response, before looking around them and pointing his cane at one of the statues nearby, depicting a young man with short, spiky hair and a blinding smile.
"This one. Marcel Nearl, second great grandfather on my mother's side, greatest and youngest captain of his generation. Died from a crossbow bolt through the eye, saving his general's life," he stated, giving her a few seconds to process that, before pointing towards one of the bigger and more intricate statues, depicting a beautiful woman that had her golden wings raised directly upwards, cradling a stylized depiction of the sun between them.
"That one. Alicja Nearl, one of our greatest ancestors. During the ascension of Prince Sviatoslav and his invasion of our lands, she bravely chose to stay back and buy her brothers and sisters in arms time to retreat, single-handedly holding back the entirety of the Hippogryph's forces for six and a half hours. At the end of her strength, she then heroically sacrificed her life, using her Arts to detonate herself in a final stand against the army's general. People called her the Second Sunrise of Kazimierz, for her final moments were said to have turned night into day across the land. The crater is still there to this day, in fact. It is a historical landmark, and a testament to the might of our Arts," he explained.
"She… blew herself up?" the girl asked with a strange expression.
Her grandfather nodded solemnly in response. After a few moments, he gestured for her to follow, before walking to another statue, this one of a tall, severe-looking bearded man with a longsword clasped between his hands, its tip buried into the ground as he resolutely looked towards the horizon, like a sentinel.
"Zadrian Nearl, one of our family's commanders, fought the Nightzmoran Khaganate at the height of their empire. One of the squads under his command had been captured during the conflict, and he bravely rallied his troops to spear deep into enemy lines to save his captured men, succeeding in his goal, but losing his life in the process," he told her. After another respectful pause, he walked towards a final statue, one much different from the rest.
It was one of the largest winged ones, and she was dressed in a radically different attire compared to the previous ones. Whereas the others were clad in knightly armor and proudly wielded weapons, this one wore priestly robes and had both hands clasped together, head bowed in prayer with a gentle smile, her golden wings gracefully enveloping her.
Kirill came to a stop in front of it, a distant expression on his face as he slowly ran a hand over the name plaque. Taking a deep breath, he began; "Solia Nearl, the greatest healer in the history of our family, known across the land as Kazimierz's Grace. She… was my aunt,"
"What was she like, grandpa?" Margaret asked, taking hold of her grandfather's hand and giving it a comforting squeeze.
Kirill smiled sadly in response. "She was the kindest person I have ever met. Gentle, soft-spoken and caring to a fault, she brought smiles and laughter everywhere she went, but if she caught you doing something foolhardy, the scoldings she could dish out would leave even veteran campaign knights quaking in their boots. I myself have been on the receiving end of quite a few of those scoldings, back in my youth," he chuckled, recalling past times.
"She sounds wonderful, grandpa. What happened to her?" the girl asked with a curious expression.
Kirill closed his eyes, heaving a deep sigh. After a few moments of silence, he began; "She died when I was fifteen years old. She had always been very adamant about helping the sick and wounded, no matter their race, status or where they hailed from. In the end, she died for what she stood for. An Ursus spy infiltrated one of the refugee camps she had been working in at the time and assassinated her. I only found out about it two days later, as I had been occupied with my training at the time."
"Oh… I-I'm sorry, grandpa! I didn't–" Margaret quickly apologized, her eyes tearing up.
Kirill interrupted her by placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't be, little knight. The past is the past. There's nothing we can do about it. These things… they are part of the job, unfortunately. This is why I wanted you to see this hall, so that you'd understand the stakes involved in our profession."
The old man looked ahead, gaze distant and unfocused. "To be a knight is to live and die by one's ideals of chivalry. To be fully willing to lay down one's life for the cause they believe in, and be able to bravely stare death in the eye when the time comes," he intoned, before pausing and adding; "Well, that's my interpretation of it, at least."
Gesturing around them, he continued; "Despite their great contributions to their homeland, the many innocents they saved, and the comrades they led to victory, the vast majority of these people didn't get a happy ending to their stories. Most of them never even made it to my age, you know? There's a reason for why a lot of these statues look rather young, and as you can see, it's not a pretty one," he somberly explained, before turning towards her.
Kneeling in front of her with the help of his cane, Kirill placed both hands on her shoulders and pinned her with an intense scowl. "Knowing what you do now, are you still certain about your decision to become a knight? To brave the darkness of our world with unflinching determination, to wield our light for the good of all, always with clarity of purpose and a devoted heart, even if it may cost you your life? Are you certain this is the path you wish to pursue?" her grandfather asked her, his tone grave and serious in a way she had never heard before.
The girl gulped nervously, seemingly unsure of how to respond. "I…"
"Take your time. Think things through, we have all day, so there's no need to worry about giving me a quick answer. And do not think for even a moment that anyone will think any less of you for saying no. Your life is your own, Margaret. I'm simply making sure you know exactly what it is you wish to pursue before you commit to it," Kirill reassured her.
"O-okay," she replied, taking a deep breath, before turning to look at the hall around them, meeting the eyes of her late ancestors as they seemingly waited with bated breath for her decision. Measuring. Judging. Anticipating.
She turned to her late grand-aunt Solia, sunlight pouring through the windows and bathing her wings in radiant light, her gentle smile gaining an almost knowing quality to it, seemingly directed at her.
After a few seconds of silent contemplation and introspection, something seemed to click within her, her expression hardening as she turned towards her grandfather and met his gaze with a fierce expression, making the decision that would forever determine the course of her life. "I am certain. I will become the best knight I can possibly be– No… I will become even better than that. I swear upon our family's name, grandpa Kirill."
The man's eyes widened in response, his breath hitching in his throat at what he saw.
If Margaret had been any less focused and determined in that moment, she would have noticed the golden light that spontaneously manifested behind her, and an odd, tingly sensation emerging from her back.
The old man threw his head back in uproarious laughter, which broke her out of her focus. "Good! That's very good, Margaret! You might just become a fine knight, one day. Nay, I'm certain of it! Hahahah!"
Margaret smiled in response. "You really think so?" she asked, her tone hopeful.
"Oh, I know so," he replied, wiping mirthful tears from his eyes and trying to suppress his laughter when he looked at her.
"What?" Margaret asked in confusion, turning to look behind her and then back to him after she saw nothing out of the ordinary.
"Oh, it's nothing. Nothing at all. Don't worry about it, dear," he reassured with a chortle, ruffling her hair as he stood back up.
"Uhm, okay. If you say so," she replied, sounding a little dubious, before adding; "So… what now?"
Kirill scratched at his beard pensively and hummed in response. "Well, now we return home and start planning how to begin your training. But before that, there's something important you need to start thinking about as well,"
"What's that?" she asked curiously.
He smiled in response. "It's a bit of a rite of passage, an old tradition amongst the Adeptus knights. You see, our profession is one filled with great peril and danger around every corner, which can take quite the toll on one's mind. So, for our own mental and spiritual well-being, we must find an anchor."
"An anchor?" Nearl repeated in confusion.
"Indeed," he nodded sagely, his tone one full of passion. "An anchor to hold onto during those difficult times, something to keep us grounded through the harshest of storms. A reason to fight for that fuels our resolve and pushes us ever forward!" he explained, dramatically gesturing towards the horizon.
The girl perked up in response. "Oh! I see. Yes, I think I get it."
"Good! That reason can be any number of things. Some fight because they believe their homeland to be beautiful and worth protecting. Others fight for the desire to be immortalized into the annals of history, their legend sung across the land. Many fight for their duty to the country or noble house that raised them. And many more fight to protect those they hold dear, their family, friends and comrades. Why, some even fight for more personal reasons, to one day return home victorious, share a drink with their comrades and court a beautiful maiden under the moonlight. Haha! In the end, the only thing that matters is that you have something to hold onto, and that you never let go of it!" he elucidated with burning passion, dramatically raising a clenched fist into the air.
Margaret blinked in response, a little confused at the theatrics, but understanding his message nonetheless. "Oh, I see."
Kirill turned towards her with a grin, placing a hand on her shoulder. "So! To that end, just like how my father asked of me, and how his father before him did as well, I want you to think about this question: 'What does it mean, to be a knight?'"
Margaret furrowed her brow in thought. "Isn't that just–"
"Shh! Not yet, don't tell me," he interrupted, poking her forehead. "This isn't something you have to answer right now, or even in a few years. This is something that you need to carry for the rest of your life, so give it the thought it deserves, and then come up with your own answer. And before you ask: no, you can't just copy other people's answers wholesale. This is something deeply personal, so it has to be your own definition, something that resonates with your spirit and that you will always carry within your heart, your resolution to push yourself forward in those dark times. Do you understand?" he asked seriously, staring into her eyes.
The girl hesitated for a moment. "I… think I do," she said.
The old man nodded back approvingly. "Good! Then let us return home. I think we've seen enough memorials for now, eh?" he said with a chuckle as he led them back the way they came from.
He paused once they reached the entrance, turning his gaze towards Solia's statue one last time with a sad smile, which Margaret immediately noticed. "Bye, grand-auntie Solia! Bye, everyone! I'll make you all proud, I promise!" she cheerfully exclaimed, waving excitedly at the statues.
Chuckling ruefully with a shake of his head, Kirill led them back home, lesson plans already beginning to form within his mind.
There was a bright future ahead of them, after all.
Her knees gave out under her as she completed another lap, causing her to trip and fall in the mud, staining her armor.
"On your feet, soldier! Think you can just lie down in the middle of the battlefield?! Get up!" Kirill barked at her.
Gasping for breath, a barely-teenaged Margaret clad in trainee armor struggled to her feet, every single muscle in her body aching in protest as she did so.
It had been a few years since that fateful visit to the Silverlance Memorial Hall where she decided her path in life. Her grandfather had taught her many things since then, from history, diplomacy, combat strategies and tactics, to rescue operations and even first aid and triage. All things she would learn in the Adeptus academy, but that her grandfather thought would not hurt to have an early introduction on. Moreso, he had drilled her through several simple training routines to prepare her for when she reached the age where she could truly begin training in earnest, which had only happened fairly recently, as evidenced by her current state of exhaustion.
However, no amount of training could have prepared her for the hell that Kirill Nearl would unleash upon her when she began her 'true' training. It was as if a switch had been flipped, and the man suddenly turned from a sweet, doting and wise grandfather, into a drill sergeant from hell intent on inflicting endless cruelty upon her as she was driven to exhaustion day in and day out without mercy.
"There you go," the old man nodded, his cane held between his hands as he stared down at her impassively. "Now give me fifty more laps around the courtyard. You're Kuranta; something as trivial as a little pain will not keep you down. Now go!" he ordered.
Margaret complied with a loud, exhausted sound.
Fifty laps later, she collapsed once again into a boneless heap, completely and utterly exhausted. Turning to face the sky, she took off her helmet and carelessly threw it off to the side, her chest rapidly heaving as she desperately gasped for breath.
Numbly, she heard the sound of footsteps on the grass and felt a shadow blocking the sun. Opening her eyes, she saw Kirill looking down at her with judging, narrowed eyes.
"Better," he stated with the smallest hints of a smile, before lazily throwing a water bottle in her direction, which she immediately caught and began drinking from.
"Take five, then we'll continue. We'll start sparring today," he told her, causing her to spit-take as she quickly shot to her feet, previous exhaustion forgotten.
"Sparring?! Grandfather, you can't–!" she sputtered in response.
"I can't what?" the old man interrupted her, loudly thumping his cane on the ground with a dangerous edge to his tone that made her pause.
"You're… I just– I don't want to injure you," she explained with hesitation, sounding worried.
Kirill raised an incredulous, almost indignant eyebrow in response, looking very unimpressed. "Is that so? You think this old fossil is too frail to teach you the ways of the Adeptus?"
Margaret shifted uncomfortably in response. "No– Well, I mean– I just think someone your age should not be physically straining themselves like that," she admitted.
In response, Kirill threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, little knight, you seem to be under quite the mistaken impression!" He exclaimed with humor, before his laugh abruptly cut off, his expression turning blank and emotionless.
"Allow me to demonstrate," he intoned, an aura of dread forming as his wings manifested around him.
Between one moment and the next, her grandfather simply vanished.
"What–" Margaret began, only for him to reappear out of the corner of her vision a moment later, winding up his leg for a devastating kick to her side, causing her eyes to bulge in terror.
Like an angel of death, he struck, lashing out at her with mind-boggling, terrifying power.
BOOM
She felt the kick connect with her armor as her vision went blurry and she sailed through the air. She felt the roar of wind in her ears and several rough impacts as she rolled across the courtyard like a skipping stone.
A few seconds later, she came to a stop with a final impact on the dirt and simply laid there, utterly defeated. Eventually, she opened her eyes and let out a long, drawn-out groan of pain as she felt her entire body ache in ways she wasn't aware were even possible.
Feeling something tapping on her chestplate, she blearily turned to find her grandfather standing over her, his cane held between his hands with its tip poking her collarbone.
"Respect. Your. Elders," he said with a wicked grin, tapping his cane on her chestplate after every word for emphasis.
She wheezed in response, which caused him to roll his eyes and reach out with a glowing hand to pull her up to her feet and heal her wounds.
She turned her wide-eyed gaze towards the small crater she had been halfway buried into, and found herself on the other end of the courtyard, a long trail of upturned earth marking her trajectory from the point she had been launched.
"Still think this old man is too weak and frail to be a teacher?" Kirill asked, sounding amused.
Margaret paled in response, the pain – only the physical one; mentally, she'd probably never recover – from her injuries fading as her grandfather used his Arts to heal her back into pristine condition. "No sir, not at all," she stiffly replied.
"Good. Go wash up and take five, and go get a new chestplate while you're at it. We'll spar then," he said as he turned and walked away.
Confused, Margaret looked down and gulped at what she saw. There was a very large dent on the side of her chestplate, which she only now noticed uncomfortably pressing against her ribs and restricting her breathing.
All of a sudden, she began wondering if her brilliant idea of asking her grandfather to train her had been a mistake.
Despite all the pain, injury and trauma her grandfather had inflicted on her over the years in the name of training, she considered it had all been worth it in the end, even if her past self would've vehemently disagreed. By the time she enlisted into the Adeptus Academy, she quickly realized she had actually over-prepared, as she easily breezed past most of the Academy's curriculum and only had to apply any real effort into the academic side of things to get perfect scores.
She found she was not only at the top of her class, but outright top of her age group overall, her performance surpassing even the best scores from classmates an entire year her senior.
This, of course, had not endeared her to said classmates, as she quickly found herself having difficulty making any meaningful or lasting connections with the other trainees at the Academy, most of her classmates seemingly afraid or envious of her strength for one reason or another.
'To stand at the top is to stand alone,' her grandfather had said when she asked for advice, telling her to simply ignore the comments of her peers to focus on her own training if she wanted to become a better knight.
Margaret, having long since grown accustomed to her grandfather's treacherous ways of teaching, immediately spotted the blatant lie for what it was.
If there was one word used to describe Kirill Nearl's teaching methods, it was anything but 'simple'. With him, there was always another hidden test, another challenge to be wary of, some new trap he would devise to trick her into making a fool of herself, and then proceed to beat another valuable lesson into her skull with his cane, which would always end with her laying inside a crater in the dirt.
Or perhaps he was simply a sadist who enjoyed using her as a remodeling tool for their estate's courtyard, and the tests were merely an excuse to get away with it. She couldn't even tell which one was more likely anymore, which probably said something about the state of her mental health. What that was, she didn't know, but it was probably important.
With that in mind, she did as her uncle Młynar had advised when she asked for assistance with her grandpa's lessons, and began to look 'underneath the underneath' for the real lesson.
Fortunately, she quickly found her answer. No campaign knight ever stood truly alone out in the battlefield, she learned this at the academy early on. Squad formations were one of the first things the instructors taught after simple combat drills. She clearly wasn't meant to stand 'alone at the top', as her grandfather had said.
But if there was such a huge difference in skill, how was she meant to stand alongside her classmates?
Margaret thought about it for a while, before palming her face in realization.
"A true knight is a shining beacon for all to see. A bright light that banishes the darkness and inspires their allies."
Of course.
If her classmates were not strong enough, she would simply have to make them strong enough.
Surprisingly, she found that her change in tactics had been the right choice. After she switched from utterly decimating her classmates in all of their spars to actually taking the time to help them become better and provide advice at every opportunity, she found the gap in skill closing very quickly. There were even a few classmates, scions from other noble houses, that were reaching the same level as her! No longer was she able to leisurely coast through the Academy and get perfect grades by barely trying. Eventually, every combat drill required her utmost focus and dedication from her, lest she be caught off guard and swiftly defeated.
Shockingly enough, she found herself growing all the stronger for it, much to her endless joy and her quickly building camaraderie and friendly rivalry with the other trainees. It was at this point that she began to craft her 'knightly' persona, borrowing inspiration from her grandfather's poetic speeches and passionate mannerisms, and began to develop that charisma that was so characteristic to her as she did her best to inspire and raise others up to stand by her side, earning the respect of many in the process.
'Steel sharpens steel,' her grandfather had proudly explained with a wicked grin when she asked him about it. It seemed that she had successfully passed another one of his hidden tests, which filled her with relief.
Unfortunately, however, she went and ruined it by shoving her foot in her mouth and asking her grandfather if he'd be willing to come to the Academy and instruct the other trainees as well, thinking that clearly, that was the best way to improve even more.
She never knew her grandfather's raucous cackles could sound so menacing, or that he had been holding back so much in their spars…
Let's just say that after Kirill Nearl, the Spear of Kazimierz, returned to the Adeptus Academy to 'foster the younger generation' and 'bring them up to standard' for one last time, the Academy's training grounds quickly gained quite a lot of new craters as her classmates grew numb to the taste of dirt, just like she had all those years ago.
But perhaps that was a story for another time.
Sadly, all good things must eventually come to an end, it seemed.
As Margaret grew and started paying more attention to the world at large, no longer with the rose-colored glasses of naive youth, she began to ponder more and more upon the meaning of knighthood, a nagging sensation in the back of her mind making her wonder if, perhaps, things weren't as they should be.
She remembered that day she visited the memorial hall with her grandfather, all those years ago. She remembered how he said that the ideals of knighthood had degraded over the years, and couldn't help but agree with him. Because the more she learned about her homeland's current state of affairs, the more she began to realize that somewhere along the way, Kazimierz had become… rotten.
It wasn't as all-encompassing or clear-cut as she feared, as the Adeptus were still a bastion of true knighthood, but they were seemingly one of the last few remaining ones, and not entirely free of corruption either. Rampaging commercialization had corrupted the spirit of the concept of knighthood, turning the once noble profession into a parody of itself, something to distract the masses from society's ills while lining corporations' pockets with money. It was… detestable.
She often wondered what her ancestors would think of the homeland they bled and died for if they could see it now, or what her great-aunt Solia would say. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't help but come to the conclusion that they, too, would find it abhorrent. It just wasn't right.
Something had to be done.
So, of course, Margaret Nearl went and did what she always did when she came across something she saw as wrong.
She tried to fix it.
The day after making her decision, she resigned from the Adeptus and signed up for the Kazimierz Major, intent on changing her country from the inside by spreading the ideals of true knighthood once again, and decrying the corporations that had greedily distorted them so.
Many years later, upon looking back, she would come to realize that had been the second most important choice she had ever made. A choice with consequences that would once again dramatically alter the course of her life.
"Don't do this, Margaret," an older Kirill sternly told her, his brow twisted into an intense scowl. The roar of the crowd a distant rumble in the background of the arena's locker room.
Her plan had gone without a hitch, her rigorous training and skill seeing her through everything the Kazimierz Major had to throw at her and emerge into the tournament's finals, one victory away from making her voice be heard across the nation. Surprisingly, the public seemed enamored with her, which certainly made her message that much easier to spread, as she expounded upon the ideals of knighthood after every fight and interview that came her way, which only made the support from the public raise all the higher.
However, she knew she would probably only have a small window of opportunity to denounce the General Chamber of Commerce for its corruption before trouble came her way, so she decided to leave that part of the plan (hopefully) for the victory ceremony, where her message would reach the most ears.
That had been the plan, at least, until her grandfather confronted her about it in her private locker room, not ten minutes before the start of the finals, which led to their current dilemma.
"I'm sorry, grandfather. This is not something I can turn away from. Someone has to do it," the young woman, now in the cusp of adulthood, replied.
"I'm perfectly aware of the problems of our nation, Margaret. But do you know who it is you're about to mess with? Do you have any idea just how many toes you're gonna be stepping on with your little stunt? The power these people wield? The consequences from openly daring to challenge them at their own game?!" He yelled, his cane harshly prodding at her collarbone with his every question, which she endured without flinching, her head held high.
"I am, and I will not back down," she replied, refusing to budge. She knew he no longer possessed the monstrous strength he once had as he began to reach a very advanced age, and would therefore not be able to stop her from going out and competing if she truly wished to. Something he was clearly aware of as well, if his displeased knowing look was any indication.
The old man sternly stared into her eyes, his gaze searching, before his shoulders slumped, having apparently found what he was looking for. "Just… just stop. Please, Margaret. Just come home and leave this behind you, there is still time to salvage the situation. You don't have to do this," he pleaded, his entire demeanor becoming tired and exhausted.
The young woman smiled sadly at that, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You know I can't do that, grandfather, you raised me better than that. Someone must set things right, it's what our ancestors would have wanted. The knights of Kazimierz deserve better than this, and we owe it to them for their sacrifices."
Kirill heaved a deep sigh in response, seemingly aging decades in the process. "I know. Dammit, I know. I still don't like you putting yourself at risk like this. You're far too young to be doing that."
"Don't worry, grandfather. I'll be fine," Margaret reassured him, the distant blaring of horns signaling the finalists' cue to enter the stadium.
"A long time ago, I made a promise to our ancestors that I would make them proud, remember? This is how I intend to fulfill that promise," she whispered before grabbing her equipment and making for the exit.
"I'll see you again soon, okay? Wish me luck!" She bid him farewell with a smile, closing the door behind her and rushing down the hall.
Kirill stared in contemplative silence at the door as her granddaughter left the room, before closing his eyes with a weary sigh. "You damn rebellious stubborn fool, just like your father, and just like me as well. Damn it all to hell," he ruefully lamented, but with a smile.
It wasn't too long after she defeated the Silver Knight in the final match, coming out the champion of the 22nd Kazimierz Major, that Nearl found herself surrounded in media attention. Though the questions she was asked were fairly sanitized, she had been prepared for this, and any question about her feelings on winning the Major or her family life quickly became a launching point for passionate speeches she already had in mind. Her ideals and her vision for Kazimierz were intrinsically tied to her journey thus far, and, having sensed the viewership numbers the Radiant Knight's diatribe would bring, the reporters on site eagerly followed along.
All in all, the current press conference following her induction into the Hall of Champions had gone in this exact same fashion. Once again, everything she was asked was something she had anticipated– until a young reporter burst to the front of the crowd to ask the final alloted question of the day, one that foreshadowed a change in the trajectory in her life.
"MISS MARGARET NEARL, HOW MUCH DO RIGHTS FOR THE INFECTED FIT INTO YOUR PLANS, AS THE FIRST INFECTED KNIGHT TO WIN THE MAJOR?"
She blinked at that, not having been prepared for that particular claim. Still, let the tabloids say what they wished, it mattered not. "The elevation of all the downtrodden is the goal of any true knight, and that many knights today choose instead to sweep them aside at the behest of the ruling class shows that they have lost their way."
Ignoring the rising sounds of the crowd as the Hall staff pointedly escorted her from the venue at the end of her allotment, she found herself amusedly curious as to where the idea that she was infected had come from. It was a point of pride that she was not disarmed once throughout the course of the tournament, so surely they could not have extrapolated on her casting without an Arts unit.
Yet, as she soon learned, the story had not been merely the ramblings of a single tabloid without import– in fact, during her short time at the Hall of Champions, it had spread like wildfire throughout Kazimierz's metropolitan area network, and even through the more reputable outlets. It seemed that the G.C.C was finally attempting a smear campaign against her for the trouble she had caused them.
Returning to her family's home, she found her grandfather awaiting her at the entrance, posture belying an all-consuming tiredness that truly befitted his age, as he looked up from a digital screen and towards her as she entered.
"So you've heard the news, then?" she asked cautiously, the elder man replying with a nod. "To think that they would resort to spreading lies so brazenly-"
Her grandfather cut her off with a shake of his head and a slowly raised hand. "What they're saying is true. I was the one who told them."
Pausing slightly as he regretfully regarded her stunned silence, he continued, "We only found out from your medical data as the tournament progressed." Giving her a sad look, he nonetheless pushed on, "You understand what this means, correct? From this point on, you cannot represent neither the family nor your position."
He sighed. "Your ideals cannot be realized within Kazimierz. Search for what you are looking for elsewhere, my granddaughter. Farewell," he stated with finality, turning and walking away from her as he did so.
Margaret stood frozen in place for a long time, staring at grandfather's disappearing back in shock and disbelief as he had all but kicked her out of the family.
Despite the suddenness of her exile and the prevailing feeling of hurt and confusion, Margaret was not one to wallow in her misery, and as such, decided to simply treat it as another form of training, an opportunity to grow and improve herself further. It… was the best she could do to distract herself from the pain.
And so, with her mind set, she set off across the land as a wandering knight, helping whenever she came across people in need, which led to her eventually meeting Shining and Liz, her would-be companions who she would join to form the Followers and go on to travel the land to heal the sick and wounded.
Years later, they met the people of Rhodes Island and, finding their goals in alignment, decided to join the organization as field operators, resulting in many more noble deeds over the years.
It was after her first checkup with the medical staff of Rhodes Island that she discovered the truth of her exile.
She was not infected, and had never been. Her grandfather had lied to everyone.
With the pain of old wounds being reopened, she tried to contact her family and demand answers, only to stop in her tracks when she learned of her grandfather peacefully passing on in his sleep a year after the fact, depriving her of any form of closure.
For a time, she had been inconsolable, unable to deal with the pain of loss and the choking, cloying feeling of grief and failure for not being there with him, of knowing she would never be able to say goodbye, and so many other things she wanted to say to him.
Her companions, Shining and Liz, her friends… did their best to console and comfort her through that period of her life, providing unfaltering support and company when she needed it the most, and over time, she began to… not heal from the pain, because that was a wound that could never heal, but to at least learn to live with it.
She thought of the many hidden 'tests' her grandfather had put her through over the course of her life, and couldn't help but wonder if her exile was merely another one of them. For what reason, she could not ascertain at the time, but she refused to believe there wasn't one. In the end, she had no choice but to move on, for she was a knight at heart, and her comrades depended on her just as she depended on them, and she refused to let her grief impede her from fulfilling her duty.
It was at some point after the crisis involving Talulah's Reunion in Chernobog, that Nearl received news of her sister participating in the Kazimierz Major, and decided that perhaps it was time to return to her homeland, and maybe attempt to find closure to that old chapter of her life.
However, the situation quickly took a turn for the worse once she and her companions reached Kazimierz, as she bore witness to her own sister being brutally beaten on live broadcast.
Shocked into action, she took decisive measures to intervene. As a righteous fire was lit within her, she sprinted across the streets of Kazimierz like a bat out of hell, making a beeline for the stadium in record time as all the while, her grandfather's old question echoed in her mind.
What does it mean, to be a knight?
"Hang in there, Maria. I'm coming for you." she stated, as if her sister on the television screen would have been able to hear her.
Borrowing inspiration from one of her grandfather's famous techniques, she focused all of her kurantian might to jump higher than she had ever jumped in her life, her golden wings manifesting around her as she enveloped herself in searing light to descend upon the arena like a vengeful meteor, explosively marking her return to Kazimierz after years of exile, and halting her sister's fight in its tracks.
Rising from the large crater she had created in the middle of the arena, Nearl turned towards her younger sister laying half-conscious on the floor.
"Maria, stand up," she told her, kneeling next to her and using her Arts to heal her as best as she could.
Blearily, the younger Kuranta opened her eyes.
"... Margaret?" Maria whispered upon seeing her, almost not believing her own eyes.
Margaret smiled comfortingly, as if to reassure her that everything would be alright now that she was here. "Maria, you've grown so much. You've done very well. I'm proud of you."
After her explosive return and intervention, the two of them argued until they came to a decision. Margaret would take Maria's place in the tournament and continue to represent their family, allowing her to recover.
Throughout the competition, Nearl faced several challenging and intriguing opponents, such as Viviana, the Candle Knight, to whom she found herself forming a surprising camaraderie with, despite their upcoming fight.
Eventually, the pleasantries had to be cast aside to make way for their bout, however. The fight was short-lived, but quite a lot more harrowing than she would have thought, as Viviana was able to counteract her Arts entirely, but was forced to surrender after Nearl managed to cut her casting tool in half.
Once the fight concluded, she rejoined her two Sarkaz companions as they went to regroup with Maria and her comrades to prepare for the upcoming fights, when something peculiar occurred.
Somewhere in the distance, a woman's singing voice pierced the silent night of the peaceful streets of Kazimierz, bringing them and their previous conversation to a halt.
"...Music?" Nearl wondered aloud.
"What a beautiful voice," Liz whispered, seemingly entranced by the song.
Shining smiled, always glad to see Liz happy. "Maybe it's a wandering singer."
"Is there a place so romantic even in Kazimierz too?" Liz asked, turning towards Shining with curiosity.
"It's proof that such people live here," Shining answered with a shrug.
Liz turned to stare off into the night and began to hum the tune with a smile, leaning back in her wheelchair and seemingly enjoying herself. Nearl gazed into the night sky as well, seemingly in thought.
What does it mean, to be a knight?
Making a gamble, she turned to her friend and asked; "Liz, would you care to dance?"
"Huh? Me? What…?" the wheelchair-bound girl startled in confusion.
"It's okay. Take my hand," Nearl said, smiling reassuringly at her friend.
"Alright…" the Sarkaz girl reached out uncertainly, but accepted nonetheless.
Carefully taking hold of her hand, the two of them danced a slow, gentle waltz under the dim lamplights illuminating Kazimierz's night, guided by the song of an unknown distant performer.
"Oh… S-Slow down, Nearl…" Liz requested.
Apparently, not as gently as she thought. Now Shining was silently laughing at her. Damn it…
"Alright," Nearl easily agreed, hiding her slight embarrassment as she adjusted accordingly, finding a more comfortable pace for her friend.
If there was any hint of her difficulty in adapting the dance to account for Liz's impairment, she showed no sign of it, doing her best to embody the perfect picture of chivalry.
Shining leaned back against a nearby wall and simply watched the two of them dance under the moonlight with a smile, witnessing how Nearl's light enveloped and elevated their usually downcast friend, allowing her to shine radiantly as well.
"You're beautiful, Liz," she told her.
"R-Really?" Liz asked in surprise.
Nearl hummed in agreement. "Perhaps one day you'll be able to dance on your own."
Liz looked down with a bashful smile in response.
"When that day comes… will you be there by our side?" she asked in a vulnerable tone.
"Of course," Nearl immediately agreed.
Stopping their dance, she knelt before her and met her soulful eyes. "I promise you that, Liz," she solemnly swore, gently squeezing her hand.
Liz hummed in contentment, something that pleased Nearl greatly.
Soon after, the finals arrived, and Nearl found herself facing the Blood Knight, Dikaiopolis, Hero of the infected.
He was, by far, the toughest opponent she had ever faced, but in the end, after much struggle, she was able to come out on top and defeat him. Although… not in a way she was proud of, for what had truly bested Dikaiopolis was not her, but his oripathy. A flare of his symptoms at exactly the wrong moment was what sealed his defeat, as a blow that would have taken her out was thrown off-course by a sudden jolt of pain, granting her an opening that she quickly capitalized upon.
"It's your win, Radiant Knight," her opponent uttered, his step faltering as he collapsed onto his knees.
By the time she realized the reason for her victory, it was already over. Nearl felt as if someone had punched her in the gut.
As the roar of the crowd drowned all other sound, she found herself looking down at her defeated opponent, kneeling and clutching at his side with a pained grimace.
What does it mean, to be a knight?
It didn't take long for her to realize what she had to do, and so, Margaret Nearl did what she always did when she came across something she saw as wrong.
"No! What are you doing?! The winner… should not be propping up the loser…" her opponent ground out with difficulty.
"There is no loser here, Blood Knight," Nearl replied as she helped him stand, her hands glowing with her Arts as she did what she could to ease the large man's wounds, even if it did not amount to much.
There was no victory to be found in claiming the G.C.C's poisoned chalice of a reward. No victory in defeating the Hero of the infected. No victory in standing 'alone at the top'.
So instead, she chose to carve her own path across the darkness, and supported her opponent out of the stadium and all the way to the Champions' Hall, much to his initial protests. People called it unexpected, blasphemous even, for someone not the champion to enter that place, but she cared not for it, for she had not returned to claim victory, but to inspire the people of her nation and remind them of the old ideals once more.
The G.C.C certainly objected to her spitting in the face of their precious competition as well, if the amount of Armorless Union assassins they sent after the two of them was any indication.
She had always had her suspicions, but witnessing their response made the reason for her grandfather exiling her quite obvious in hindsight, if this is what she and her family would've had to deal with had she chosen to stay and continue to be a thorn on the G.C.C's side.
But it was in that moment that she bore witness to the fruits of her labors, for as she had done her best to inspire and uplift others in their time of need, so too had they come to uplift her in turn.
Pinus Sylvestris, the Silverlance Pegasi, her family, the Followers, and even Viviana, had all come to them in their time of need to ensure that she and Dikaiopolis safely reached the Champions' Hall.
And as the two finalists were welcomed into the sacred Hall, marking the beginning of a new era for Kazimierz, she couldn't help but think of what her grandfather would say if he could see her now.
But, perhaps, she could simply pay him a visit and ask.
Her footsteps echoed across the empty linoleum halls as she walked past storied relics she had not seen since she was a little girl, her hands gliding across the exhibits decorating the ancient halls, telling the great tales of knights of ages past.
She walked until she reached a doorway leading into a hall different from the rest. Looking up, she read the inscription with a fond smile.
"'Fear neither hardship nor darkness.'"
Crossing the familiar doorway, she slowly made her way across the beautifully carved depictions of her great ancestors, paying her due respects as she went until she reached the end of the hall, where a new statue proudly stood, seemingly awaiting her return after all this time.
Looking up, she met the eyes of her grandfather.
What does it mean, to be a knight?
"Hello, grandpa Kirill. I'm home," Margaret greeted with a radiant smile as tears rolled down her eyes.
In the end, she had always known her answer.
She woke to a soft humming melody and the feeling of a hand comfortingly running through her hair.
She blearily opened her eyes to see Nearl smiling down at her as she sat on the bed, Missy's head resting on her lap. "Good morning, sleepyhead. Merry Christmas. How are you feeling?"
"Hm? I'm... okay, I guess. Merry Christmas. Why'd you show up next to me this time?" Missy blearily asked.
"I'm... not exactly sure? I seem to be manifesting earlier, I suppose. It started happening yesterday, a minute or two before you woke up," the Kuranta mused in thought, before shaking her head and focusing on her once more. "Regardless, that's not important right now. You don't look okay; you were crying in your sleep," she said with a worried expression, reaching out with her hand to wipe a tear from the girl's eye.
"...Oh." she replied, her hand reflexively reaching up to touch her face, which came away damp.
"Tell me what happened, please?" Nearl prodded as Missy sat up.
"Nothing, it was just another long dream, but..." she trailed off with a sigh. "It was... different. I wasn't just seeing your memories this time, I think I was getting them more… directly, I guess. I felt like I was you. I remember your training, how you became a knight, competing in the Kazimierz Mayor twice, saving Maria. And I remember... your grandpa, and the memorial hall."
Nearl paused, her expression wilting, turning downcast. "Oh... I see. Yes, that'd explain it. I'm... sorry you had to see that," she muttered, enveloping the girl in a hug.
"Don't be. He was wonderful, and I'm really glad I was able to meet him," Missy returned the hug.
"Yes, yes he was," the Kuranta softly whispered, her expression distant and reminiscing.
"Do you miss him?" Missy softly asked.
"More than anything," Nearl was quick to reply.
"...I think he would've been very proud of you," the girl said, squeezing tighter.
Nearl closed her eyes and heaved a deep, shuddering breath. "...Thank you, Missy."
They sat there in silence for a while, simply holding onto each other.
"What else did you see?" the Kuranta eventually asked, breaking the hug to look at her.
"Oh, uhm, I saw you turn yourself into a meteor. That was pretty cool. Didn't even know you could do that, to be honest," the girl mused.
Nearl snorted, the previous somber mood dispelling. "It's simply another technique in my repertoire, though not an easy one, and quite niche in its usefulness. Maybe you'll be able to do it as well, one day."
"Okay, sure. Turn myself into a meteor, no problem. Yup, that's totally doable," she dumbly nodded, struggling to grasp the idea of being able to do such a ridiculous thing one day.
"Don't worry, I'm sure it'll come to you with practice," the Kuranta replied with some amusement as she stood up from the bed.
"Well, if you say so. Oh! I also saw you and, uhhh..." she trailed off, her expression turning blank as she blinked rapidly, re-contextualizing and slotting information into place in her mind, before something finally clicked.
Nearl raised a curious eyebrow in response. "What?"
Missy stared at her in silence for a few seconds, before her face slowly curled into a mischievous smile. "Well, y'know... How was it your grandpa put it? 'Courting a beautiful maiden under the moonlight'?" She slyly teased, miming a slow waltz.
Nearl froze. "I– We don't– Liz and I aren't-" she stumbled over her words in an attempt to deny her claims, which caused Missy to burst out laughing and fall back on the bed.
Nearl paused at that, narrowing her eyes at the girl. "What's so funny?"
"I-I'm sorry! It's just that you're always so… so serious and composed, but the moment I mentioned her, you got nervous. It's hilarious," she explained, struggling to regain her breath, before breaking down into laughter once again.
The Kuranta pouted in response, poking her on the side. "It's not very nice to tease people like that, you know? Besides, I did not get nervous. You're imagining things."
Missy paused and turned to stare at her. "Have you tried actually asking her out?" she asked instead, her smile turning smug.
"I do not need dating advice from a little girl. I have my own pride, thank you very much. I'm quite capable of managing whatever romantic interests I may or may not wish to pursue on my own," Nearl adamantly stated with an annoyed stomp of her foot.
"Ah, so you do like her! Then why haven't you asked her out yet?" the little girl immediately shot back with a shit-eating grin.
Nearl pinned her with a look.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" she quickly raised her arms in surrender, trying - and failing - to suppress a laugh.
Nearl continued to stare at her for a few seconds, before sighing and sitting down on the bed again. "Out of all the things you saw, this is what you chose to focus on?"
"Well, it was either that or feeling really sad about your grandpa," Missy replied with surprising honesty, which gave Nearl pause.
She turned to the girl with a worried expression. "You know… I was going to say that at this point, you might actually remember him better than I do. But… that only means that you miss him as well, don't you?" she asked with far more perceptiveness than she expected.
Missy froze in place for a few seconds, before looking down with a dejected sigh. "Yeah…" she admitted.
Nearl placed a comforting hand on her shoulder in response. "I'm sorry," she said.
"Not your fault," Missy was quick to reply.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. But… do you remember his lessons?" the Kuranta asked instead.
The girl seemed to gain a faraway look at that. "...All of them. How could I not?"
Nearl hummed in response, tilting her head in consideration. "Then… perhaps we can skip ahead in your training. No point in teaching you again what Kirill has already taught you."
The girl blinked in confusion. "But… wasn't I supposed to prove my dedication or something like that first?"
Nearl snorted in amusement. "Missy, you did that days ago."
"I did?" Missy asked in surprise.
Nearl stared at her with a raised eyebrow, looking unimpressed. "Missy, on your first real patrol you saved two civilians and subdued two armed parahumans with your bare hands, on your own and with no backup. If that doesn't count as 'dedication', then I don't know what does."
"Ohhhhhh…" the girl slowly said with a look of dawning realization.
The Kuranta shook her head in exasperation, before her expression turned serious. "In any case, it's safe to say that you're probably as ready as you can be. So, with that in mind, do you think you have an answer to that question I asked you? I'm sure you've realized by now thanks to my grandfather that this isn't just a simple test. It is a resolution that you must carry with you. Something that you decide for yourself."
Missy nodded in understanding, her face determined.
Nearl smiled in approval at that, before she asked; "So, tell me, what do you think it means to be a knight?"
We've reached 100k words in the story, and I feel like now is a good point to ask about this. Since me and my betas are mostly flying by the seat of our pants here, please give us some feedback and criticism and tell us what you think of the story so far. What do you like/dislike about it? What are your favorite parts, and the parts you like the least? Is the story doing well at conveying emotional moments, or does it fall flat? What are you excited to see, and what do you want to see less of? Tell us these things, so that we know where we can improve, and what parts are good as it is.
In any case, just to let you guys know, dream visions will become more brief and less frequent from now on, and will be mostly reserved for important skills and/or important characters. Nearl's visions were especially detailed because she's the first summon and is, well, Nearl. She's basically the All Might of Arknights. You can't not show her backstory.
I had to make an account just to reply and tell you how I feel because god you made me feel, I cried like a bitch reading this, like oh my GOD.
The emotional beats hit me until I was black and blue. I couldn't just not say anything after this. I LOVE this fic so much.
Thank you for the continued amazing experience, this is quickly becoming one of my favourite stories.
Keep up the AMAZING work! ❤️❤️❤️
I had to make an account just to reply and tell you how I feel because god you made me feel, I cried like a bitch reading this, like oh my GOD.
The emotional beats hit me until I was black and blue. I couldn't just not say anything after this. I LOVE this fic so much.
Thank you for the continued amazing experience, this is quickly becoming one of my favourite stories.
Keep up the AMAZING work! ❤️❤️❤️
Do keep in mind that this is the story version of a Quest on Spacebattles, so you can actually actively participate there if you want! You can find a link in the first post if you are so inclined.
I had to make an account just to reply and tell you how I feel because god you made me feel, I cried like a bitch reading this, like oh my GOD.
The emotional beats hit me until I was black and blue. I couldn't just not say anything after this. I LOVE this fic so much.
I can confidently say you're not alone in what this story's done for you. I hadn't been writing for years, just dozens of projects abandoned in frustration that I can only half-remember at this point. Reading the quest got me to actually start writing again, to practice and improve; and honestly for the first time in a long time, produce something I'm actually damn proud of again. Fairly short and simple, it's the omake featuring Mountain right above this chapter. And the writing style for that was directly inspired by the tens of thousands of words long chapters from this very fic. If there's some aspect you liked in 'The Mountain and The Star', chances are you also have the Dream Companions team to thank for it!
I don't know how else to put it, it's an incredibly liberating feeling to start writing again. I can't be sure how long it'll last, but I'm glad to have it.
But haha, anyways enough about that, I think it's about time to talk about the chapter! Especially since Yami's called for some feedback. So much to say, I hope they help.
I think first of all the team deserves big props for the depiction of young Nearl here. Tomboyish, wise-beyond her years and a voice filled with confidence that makes you want to believe. Oh yes. You know for sure the moment you start reading that that's the Nearl we'll know and love in the makings. It's such a believable devolution(?) of the character, which I think is very difficult thing to pull off right but was done here just so. It shows good understanding of Nearl's core character to be able to trace it back, imagine it in a different, less tempered form and relate it to the characters that surrounded and impacted her throughout her life. I need to emphasise again that the team deserves big props especially because I'm reasonably confident that almost all of these scenes of Nearl's early formative years are original creations, the basis for which were only alluded to in Arknights proper.
And then at the visit to the Memorial, with Monster Siren's choir-esque 'Till the Bell Tolls' playing in the background, it clicks and you realise that you're watching the birth of a new legend. The whole scene is elevated, for me it's almost like reading characters from a heroic myth interacting with one another. Very well done, I think the whole chapter benefitted from this.
I can't go further without giving my thoughts on how Kirill Nearl is depicted here. Kirill Nearl is this incredibly complex creature. Mischievous yet somehow also austere at once, jaded at times, and filled with old hurts too many to count in body and soul, yet still loving his family above everything else. I love, love, love this depiction of him. We know of Kirill in Arknights canon as a war-hero, of the at once awe-inspiring yet also heart-wrenching sacrifice he led his knights to make; but we didn't quite see him as he lived. I tried my best to do his character justice with our favourite big cultured kitty Mountain's exposition on the sheer scale of the legend and mythology that surrounds Kirill in the Arknights universe, while also alluding to the type of man he was behind the myth; but I think it's his depiction here where he really comes to life. It's a perfect imagining of his character based off of what we know of him from canon.
I suppose it could also be said that I'm just glad that the character's gotten as much careful attention as I wanted to give him in my omake. Gosh I worked hard to get that excerpt of the poem Mountain quotes right. Grandpa Nearl deserves it!
I'll probably have more to say about the fic as a whole once I've had time to think about it, but these were my initial thoughts for this chapter. I will say though, I think this chapter may just well top my current favourite chapter Radiant 1.9. Music for that chapter flowed perfectly with the emotions and tension of what was basically the moment Missy made the decision to take on the mantle of being a hero.
The emotional resonance here is amazing, especially with the contrast between idealistic youth, jaded experience, and hopeful trainer.
What I'm not seeing so far is an impact on the wider world. I suspect it'll come, though, because Nearl's right about Missy's dedication; she'll be saving the innocent at each step as she grows in power and influence.
I do wonder how much of what she's learned counts as the kind of skill that Victor can steal, though.
Missy took some time to think about how to respond. More than a minute, in fact, but Nearl didn't seem to mind at all. It wasn't that she didn't already have her answer, it was just that… she had trouble actually putting it into words. The fire was lit in her eyes, but how was she going to get it across?
Eventually, after a lot of thinking, she began. "...I think what it means to be a knight is to show others that there's still… hope."
Swallowing nervously and averting her gaze, she tried to get the difficult part out. "I… when I almost d-died in that car, I thought it was all so… so pointless. That there was never any point to all the s-suffering I went through growing up," the girl forced out, eventually taking a moment to collect herself with a deep breath.
"At that moment, I… I thought that there was never any hope to begin with, and that I'd just been deluding myself into thinking otherwise. That all my struggles would amount to nothing, and that I'd just become another footnote in the neverending heap of horrible shit always happening in this city," she sniffed as Nearl squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, while Missy looked at the kuranta with sorrow in her heart.
She met Nearl's gaze, so filled with compassion and affection and understanding, that she couldn't help but want to be better because of it. It greatly lessened the weight on her shoulders and made her fraying nerves harden with resolve. So long as Nearl stood by her side and believed in her, she was capable of anything.
And so, with steel as her nerves and valor in her veins, she mustered the strength to express her ideals. "But then… you showed up. You pulled me out of that wreck and showed me again and again that there's still something to hold on to. Something worth fighting for. You showed me that there's still a reason to have hope."
Pausing for a moment to gather her thoughts, she looked down at the floor, her expression wilting slightly as her thoughts turned to the people in similar circumstances that weren't as lucky as she had been.
"And… a lot of people don't see that anymore. They think that the whole world's going down the drain, that it's all pointless, just like I once did. But… it's not. I know it's not. And if I can help even just a single person realize that there's still a reason to keep going, then It'll all be worth it."
Her fists clenched with conviction and her gaze filled with righteous fervor, the small flame within her now a roaring blaze. It seemed that Nearl's idealism was contagious, after all. "Even if it's hard, even if it seems impossible, it's still what I want to do. I want to inspire others and show them that there's still hope for a better future, just like you did for me. Even if I have to create that future with my own two hands. That's what being a knight means to me."
No sooner did she finish giving her answer, that she found herself enveloped in a crushing hug. "I am so proudof you," Nearl whispered in her ear, the kuranta's voice unusually filled with emotion. "You passed. Of course you passed."
The girl froze in response. She didn't expect…
Before she could finish that thought, Nearl pulled away and placed her hands on her shoulders, looking at her with an immensely proud smile. "Congratulations, my pupil. There is much work ahead of us before your training is truly complete, but I believe you have proven without a shadow of doubt that you are worthy of the noble house of the Nearl family. That is, of course, if you will have me," she said with a respectful dip of her head.
Missy just stood there, stunned. An incredulous laugh escaped her lips, before Nearl's words fully registered and she threw herself at her with a cheerful cry.
Her friend easily caught her and spun her around a few times as the girl latched onto her neck and cried out in joy, chuckling fondly as Missy blubbered 'thank you's into her shoulder over and over again.
"I take it that's a yes?" the kuranta asked with an exasperated smile.
"Of course it's a yes!" the girl exclaimed as her friend set her down, meeting her eyes with a beaming smile.
"Good. It's official, then," Nearl nodded in acceptance. "As of today, you are a true knight-in-training of house Nearl. Bear this knowledge with pride and let none dispute your claim, for you have proven yourself worthy of our name. From this day forth, you shall fear neither hardship nor darkness. Now come, let us begin your lessons," Nearl declared, before taking her hand and leading her into the repurposed living room.
"W-wait!" Missy suddenly interrupted, despite feeling very elated.
The kuranta paused and turned to look at her in confusion.
"We uhm… we still have to open the presents," she said, before looking down at herself and bashfully scratching her head. "And I still haven't washed up or changed out of my pajamas either," she explained.
Nearl blinked in surprise at that. "...Oh. My apologies. It seems I got a little carried away," she replied, sounding a tad embarrassed.
Missy laughed in response.
After getting cleaned up and dressed, Missy opened one of her drawers to retrieve her present. She gave the locket a final look-over just in case, before freezing when she noticed a very big glaring issue with it.
The locket didn't have a picture.
Missy screamed internally in a panic. How could she be so stupid?!
"Nearl!" she yelled as she blitzed past the living room and straight into the basement, "I forgot something really importaaaaaant!"
The kuranta in question blinked at the sudden haste and stood at attention. "What is it?"
"I wanted to take a photo of uuuuus!" her voice trailed off into the distance, already having launched herself halfway down the stairs in a move that would've definitely broken her legs not a week ago.
Where the heck did her mother put that stupid polaroid again?! She dug around old drawers and boxes for a solid minute until she finally found the damn thing. Then she returned to the living room in a mad dash.
"Now let's take a photo!" she demanded, grinning as she saw her friend had already sat down on the only couch still left in the repurposed living room.
With that, the girl quickly rushed to her side and plopped herself down on the armrest next to the bewildered kuranta, wrapping her in a one-armed hug and preparing to awkwardly take a selfie with the old camera.
While still confused, Nearl nevertheless returned the hug just before the flash signaled the photo.
"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Missy hissed in a hurry as the picture slowly slid out of the camera and revealed itself. Squinting at it, she placed her thumb next to it to compare and see if the two of them would fit in the locket. "Goddamn it!" She cursed, realizing the image was too zoomed in.
"Let's try again!" She demanded, stretching her arm as far as she could, which left her in an even more awkward position, before Nearl simply took the camera from her.
"Hey!" the girl exclaimed in indignation.
"Here, allow me," her friend said with a chuckle and used her longer arms to get a better angle.
Missy grumbled at the unfairness of it, before squawking in protest as Nearl picked her up from the armrest and sat her on her lap, wrapping an arm around her to hug her close.
"Say cheese," Nearl told her as she angled the camera and smiled.
"Cheese!" she beamed in response and used her now unoccupied hands to imitate an extra pair of ears atop her head, just like Nearl's.
After the flash, they waited a few moments for the picture to be revealed, before the girl whooped in triumph. "It's perfect!" she exclaimed, before taking the picture and dashing back to her room with it.
"Be right back!" she called out.
Nearl simply shook her head in fond exasperation.
A few minutes of cutting with scissors, wrapping paper and copious amounts of adhesive tape later, she dashed back into the living room with her gift in tow, and found Nearl sitting on the couch, waiting for her with a wrapped box on her lap and a calm smile.
Missy hastily hid her gift behind her back and shyly approached with a nervous smile on her face. "So… uhm…"
"Yes…? Do you perhaps have something for me, Missy?" Nearl asked with feigned ignorance and an oblivious smile on her face.
"I- uhh… Merry Christmas!" she exclaimed, quickly pushing her gift towards her, her face flushed in embarrassment.
"Why, thank you Missy," Nearl said, graciously accepting the little box and beginning to unwrap it.
"Are you sure you don't want to open yours first?" the kuranta asked with a knowing smile.
"No, no. You go first," the girl replied, motioning with her hands.
"Well, if you insist, then I suppose the– Oh, Missy, this is…" Nearl interrupted herself as she finished unwrapping the little box and saw the locket.
Running a finger over the small, oval-shaped silver necklace engraved with a lovingly detailed depiction of a rearing horse, she carefully popped the small latch on the side open, and found the picture they had taken not ten minutes ago attached within, now properly trimmed to fit inside and protected behind a small pane of glass.
"Do you like it?" Missy asked, nervously wringing her hands in anticipation.
"It's wonderful," her friend softly uttered. "Could you help me put it on?" she asked with a sunny smile, tilting her head to the side and moving her ponytail out of the way with a hand.
The girl nodded excitedly, before dashing behind her and helping her attach the small chain behind her neck. "There, done!" she exclaimed, stepping back, before Nearl simply yanked her back in and gave her a hug.
"Thank you, little pupil. I'll make sure to cherish it and keep it safe," the kuranta murmured in their hug, placing a gentle kiss atop her head, which made the little girl's eyes shine with unshed tears as she silently nodded.
"Now, I believe you have your own gift to unwrap as well," Nearl said as she let go of her with a wide smile.
The girl's arms shot up as she let out a small whoop of excitement.
Nearl led her to the small tea table in front of the couch and made her sit in front of it. Then, she gently placed a wrapped box on top of the table and stepped back. The girl stared at the box for a moment, before throwing caution to the wind and quickly tearing through wrapping paper with the wild abandon and manic intensity of a young child, before gasping once she removed the lid on the now unwrapped box.
From within the box, the image of absolute perfection beyond all ideals stared back at her. Radiant and glorious and soft, the heavenly prize beckoned for her to claim it.
Slowly, oh so slowly, she reached within the box with shaky hands, as if caught in a spell, and verycarefully retrieved what lay within and held it in her arms in reverence as stars danced across her eyes.
"How…" Missy breathed out in amazement as she stared at the Nearl plushie in her hands.
"Surprise! Do you like it?" Nearl exclaimed with a wide grin, before explaining. "It's your very own Miss Margaret Nearl, the only one of its kind in this world! She will safeguard your dreams with her chivalrous spirit and keep you company while you sleep, ensuring that you are never truly alone, so that– Oh. Oh, Missy… Hey, it's okay…" Nearl knelt down next to her and tried to comfort the girl as she burst into tears and began sobbing uncontrollably before Nearl could even finish her little speech.
"W-why…" she choked out. "Why do you have to be s-such a wonderful person?! H-how can you be so nice to m-me?! I c-can't even tease you without feeling like I'm a terrible person! S-stop making me cry all the damn time, you… you g-goddamn overgrown pony!" the girl blubbered hysterically as she hugged her new plushie to her chest while Nearl slowly rubbed circles on her back, unsure of how to even respond to that.
"I'm sorry. It… was not my intention to make you cry and feel sad. Please forgive me," the kuranta was quick to apologize.
"Don't apologize, silly. I'm not sad, I'm… I'm happy. But… It hurts," her voice cracked as she hunched in on herself and her tears fell. "I don't understand, Nearl. Why does feeling happy hurt so much…?" she uttered in the silent room as she held onto her so tightly she thought she would start bruising.
Nearl looked at the child that broke down from a simple gift and a bit of kindness, and felt her heart break. "Shhhh… Everything's okay. I'm here for you," she said instead, holding her close and comforting her, whispering reassuring words and helping her slowly calm down.
The two of them stayed there for a long while, holding each other as Missy hiccuped and tried to get her breathing under control, before occasionally bursting into tears again.
Eventually, she recovered enough to let go, and in response Nearl pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket and began wiping the tears and snot from the girl's face, murmuring reassuringly.
"Feeling better?" the kuranta quietly asked, patting her back.
"...Mhm. Y-yeah, a little bit," Missy croaked, her throat dry.
Nearl smiled gently in response. "I'm glad."
Missy slowly pushed off of her, rubbing at her eyes. "...I'm tired of crying all the damn time over everything. It's like all you do is poke me once and I just fall into pieces. Ugh…"
"I've already said this, but bottling up your feelings is not good for you. Better to let them out now with someone you can trust, rather than create more problems for yourself in the future," her friend patiently reminded.
"Yeah, yeah. I know…" the girl rolled her eyes with a tired sigh, feeling some of her previous cheer slowly return to her.
"I must say, I'm a little surprised. I half expected you to complain about being too old for plushies," her mentor said wryly, trying to move on to a lighter topic.
"...I can afford to be a kid around you, I guess," she admitted, averting her gaze and sulking while hugging her plushie.
"I take it is to your liking, then?" the kuranta asked with an understanding smile.
Missy pouted in response and refused to reply, opting to instead hug her plushie closer.
Nearl huffed in amusement at the sight and ruffled her hair, causing Missy to grumble adorably. "Well, I'm very glad you like it, then. Merry Christmas."
"...Where did you even get this, anyway? I thought you couldn't bring stuff over?" the girl grumbled, quickly trying to change the subject.
"I commissioned it from Parian a few days after we went to the boardwalk. It's based on the one Liz has. It took a bit getting the details of the design right, but the actual work was done surprisingly quickly. Parian's power is quite impressive," her friend explained with a grin.
"...Liz has a plushie of you?" the girl asked incredulously, before startling in realization. "Wait, they sell plushies of you?!"
Nearl snorted in response. "Missy, I won the Kazimierz Major twice. At this point it'd be easier to ask what kind of merchandise they don't sell of me. Believe me, I was just as surprised as you are when I found out. According to Liz, there was even an entire shop dedicated to selling merchandise of me in Kazimierz before my second Major had even ended. That's where she got hers from; The Doctor bought it for her as a gift," she explained with a light chuckle.
Missy stared, dumbfounded. She knew Nearl was popular, but she had been seriously underestimating just how well-known she really was if that was true. What the hell, not even Armsmaster had entire shops selling merch of him, and he was one of the most famous heroes in the country!
Just how famous was the Radiant Knight, really? It was pretty hard to judge, because her only frame or reference were Nearl's own memories, and the kuranta never paid any attention to her own fame, always being so humble about everything to the point it made it practically impossible to tell.
"Huh…" the girl muttered, her brows furrowed in thought as she considered the plushie in her hands.
"In any case, I do have another gift for you," Nearl told her, causing her to startle in surprise.
"Huh? Wait, what?" Missy asked in confusion.
In response, Nearl reached below the couch and pulled out a large briefcase and placed it on the tea table, before turning it around so it was facing her. "This one is from New Wave. I was talking with Carol and Sarah the other day, you see, and the topic of your costume came up."
Missy perked up upon hearing that, her eyes widening slightly.
"As it turns out, commissioning a high quality and functional customized set of armor sized for a child is actually quite a lot harder than you might expect – Well, unless you are the Protectorate, that is," Nearl mused as she raised her arms in a placating gesture before Missy could speak up.
"I'm not saying it's not doable, just that it will take some time before it's done, especially because you'll need replacements for the metal plates if they get damaged. Nevertheless, Sarah came up with the idea of getting you a provisional costume until the armor is ready, and the rest of New Wave chimed in as well to purchase this for you. Go ahead, open it," she gestured at the briefcase before stepping back.
Giddy with excitement, the girl scooted close to the table and reached out to pop the lid open.
"Whoa…" she uttered in amazement as she pulled out the costume. It consisted of a reinforced black bodysuit with velcro straps to fasten it in place, as well as a few zippers to adjust here and there, some inner padding to make it comfortable to wear, and some kevlar armor pieces to attach with some straps as well.
Along with it, there was a pair of steel-toed combat boots, a belt with a lot of detachable pouches, a pair of fingerless gloves and a pair of armored ones that seemed to be especially good for punching, and to cap it all off, there was also a simple white hooded cloak with a quick-release clasp.
She figured the cloak was to conceal the rest of the intimidating bits while she wasn't fighting, which served to make the whole ensemble a lot more friendly looking than it would've been otherwise, rather than make her look like a Shadow Stalker cosplayer.
But honestly, overall?
Hell. Yes.
"This is so cool!" she exclaimed with a wide grin as she practically vibrated in place. "Can I try it on?! Please please please please?!
Nearl smiled at the overly excited child. "Of course, go ahead," she replied with a nod.
"Yeeeeaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!" Missy's screams of excitement trailed off into the distance as she ran off with her new costume in tow.
Nearl watched her go, lightly chuckling in amusement.
"Damn. This is…" Missy trailed off as she examined herself in the large mirror in the foyer while Nearl leaned against a nearby wall with her arms crossed.
"Good enough?" her mentor asked.
"Really good. Hell, I already feel like a badass just from wearing this. Honestly, this is way more high quality than I expected for a backup costume. I thought stuff like this was hard to get?" Missy asked in curiosity, doing a little twirl and seeing how her cloak fluttered around her.
"A high quality combat-rated custom outfit? Yes, quite so. This, however? Not so much," Nearl replied, before explaining. "The difference is that this outfit isn't custom-made; It's all pretty standard equipment, from what I'm told. The only unusual thing is the cloak, which was a separate purchase and not part of the original outfit, but otherwise the company that makes them sells outfits just like this practically in bulk. They are rather expensive, though, so make sure to take good care of it. Read the pamphlet that came with it, when you have the time."
"Oh, I see," Missy said. "That makes sense. And sure, I'll read it later. I wanna move around with it for now though, get used to it and all that, y'know?"
Her mentor nodded in understanding. "Then perhaps we could do a little training while you do so," the kuranta replied, before pausing and adding. "Breakfast first, though."
"Ugh, yeah, yeah. Most important meal of the day, yadda yadda," Missy rolled her eyes with a smile.
After a quick breakfast, the two of them went back into the "training room" – which was just the repurposed living room, really – and sparred for a while with an even greater intensity than before. Nearl had noticed she was getting better pretty quickly, and adjusted the "difficulty" accordingly.
All of this meant that, despite Missy being capable of fighting back and even landing quite a few hits compared to last time, she still ended up in the same position as last time.
Namely, an exhausted heap on the floor that felt as if all of the tiny bruises across her body had converged into a singular, giant bruise named Missy.
"Ughhhhh…" said bruise groaned from her spot sprawled on the mat.
At least she looked like a stylish bruise, what with the new costume at all. Not like it made much of a difference in the outcome of the fight, though. Hell, she probably dented her new steel-toed boots when she tried kicking Nearl in the chest. That woman was as hard as a goddamn rock.
"Well done. You are definitely improving, although nowhere near as drastically as last time," Nearl congratulated her with a pat on the back, unheeding of Missy's inner woes, before using her Arts to heal her back into shape.
Grumbling her thanks, Missy flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath while Nearl went into the kitchen to get some water, before startling in surprise when she heard her phone ring.
Groaning, Missy got up to retrieve it from where she had left it atop the fireplace to glare at whoever messaged her at… nine thirty in the morning?! What the frick? They'd been up for so long, and it wasn't even midday yet?! How in the– Wait…
Was she… Was she turning into a morning person? Some kind of freak that enjoyed waking up at ungodly hours in the morning before even the sun came out like an overly cheerful asshole that boasted about the benefits of a healthy lifestyle to everyone around them?
Oh God.
Deciding to table the existential crisis for now, she instead checked to see who had messaged her, and found herself blinking in surprise.
L: merry christmas!!!!!!!!!;;;! 💚💚💚💚
L: sent chrismassssssssss.png
How Elle managed to convey excitement through a blank expression, she'd never know, but she somehow pulled it off anyways. More unusual – or uncanny, depending on who you asked – was the fact that the background of the selfie the green hoodie-wearing girl had sent was a dizzyingly twisting scenery of snowy, non-euclidean geometries that looked like something out of an otherworldly alien landscape or an abstract painting.
…That background is not a filter at all, isn't it?
Jesus, that power was a trip and a half, and that was saying something coming from her. Missy was only now beginning to grasp just what having a goddamn twelve on your threat rating meant, when only a nine was enough to call Eidolon down on a city.
No wonder the PRT allowed Faultline and her team to just relax in their backyard, if Elle's power could be best described as "Shaker: leave them the fuck alone."
But then again… she guessed that Elle had been pretty lonely, if her enthusiasm at the idea of making a new friend was any indication. She should probably pay her a visit sometime soon.
Thinking quickly, Missy went to retrieve her precious gift and held it on the crook of her elbow while she did a peace sign with one hand and took a selfie with the other one, beaming brightly.
Missy: sent pic01.png
Missy: Merry Christmas!
L: …
L: I want one
Missy: No way! It's limited edition, only one of its kind. Sorry.
L:
Missy: But I can ask and see if the person that made it is still taking commissions, if you want.
L:
L: it looks very soft
Missy: It is!
L: your cloak is also very pretty
Missy: Aww, thanks! It was a gift from New Wave. Though this isn't actually my final costume. Gotta wait another week for that one.
L: but you'll keep the cloak, righhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Missy blinked in confusion at the odd message. The next one took a significantly longer time to arrive.
L: sorry, I drifted off
Missy: It's okay! I don't mind!
L: thank u
Missy: No worries! Friends always support each other!
Was she laying it on a little thick? Oh God, she totally was, wasn't she? Damn her stupid lack of social skills. Abort, abort!
L: 💚💚💚💚
…Oh. Well, never mind then. Looks like she didn't shove her foot in her mouth this time? Maybe she could–
"What are you doing?" Nearl curiously asked from right behind her.
"GAH!" Missy shrieked in fright, jumping a whole meter into the air before landing back on the mat with a dull thump while her Nearl plushie bravely sailed off into the distance, heading towards lands unknown…
Missy turned to glare at the real Nearl, only to find the kuranta's shoulders shaking with repressed mirth.
Grumbling and looking away with a pout, the girl replied: "I was talking with Elle. She sent me a greeting."
"Ah, I see. That's very sweet of her. Sorry for interrupting, but I was hoping we could do a little bit of extra training before heading out, if you would like? I thought you'd appreciate the chance to learn a little more about our Arts," Nearl commented as she sat down on the mat across from her.
"Now, this isn't enough to constitute a proper lesson, but it should be helpful to get you into the right mindset for once we start properly training your Arts, so you'll know what to expect," her mentor explained, cupping her hands together and creating a small ball of light as she adopted a meditative pose.
Enticed with the promise of even moresuperpowers, Missy was all too quick to sit up and pay attention to her, but not before sending a final message to her other friend.
Missy: Gotta go for now, Nearl wants to train some more. See ya around!
L: good luck!
After a bit of rest and a shower, Missy and Nearl headed out to the hospital, having decided to give Amy a little gift as well. The girl deserved a break to celebrate Christmas as well, after all.
Of course, for Missy, that mostly meant that she had more time off to visit her father, as privacy concerns still prevented her from joining Nearl for the time being. As she sat down on her usual spot next to the coma patient, her mind wandered.
She realized that she felt a lot less fearful of being separated from Nearl than before. Was she perhaps growing confident enough to stand on her own? Had tangible proof of her accomplishments given her the confidence she needed? Or was it the fact that her life was finally improving and now had some real meaning?
The girl pondered this as she silently stared at her comatose parent. "Hey dad, merry Christmas. it's me again."
A pause followed, as if she was hoping he would respond. Unfortunately, no such thing happened.
"Nearl has been taking care of me. Things have been going pretty well. I did some good, recently – I saved two people and captured two villains," she told him, smiling proudly. "I'm pretty happy about that. I hope you are too."
Again, she waited for a response that wouldn't come. Deep down, she... kind of started hating coming here, with nothing having changed. It hurt to see her father like this. It'd be great if she could just will him awake and be done with it. But then…
Her thoughts wandered back to the constant shouting matches, the broken things thrown around the house, the perpetual, seething contempt her parents held for one another, the ways they would use her to spite each other.
What if the screaming resumes once he wakes up, but with a different target now that her mother was gone? Namely, her?
Would he even approve of what she was doing, when he woke up?
Would he even recognize her?
Missy was smart enough to realize that she had changed and matured more in the last week than she ever had in her entire life, with no signs of ever going back to being the meek little girl she used to be, which, honestly, good freaking riddance. And while she was glad to be changing for the better, it still scared her a little when she thought of how her father would react to the new her.
Hell, would he even care? Or would he just ignore it all and try to shove her into the Wards to wash his hands of her, now that he finally had an excuse?
Argh! Why did her parents have to be like this?! No matter how she tried to spin it, her mind just kept leading her into bad places when she thought about them. Now that she had finally experienced what a genuinely caring family was supposed to be like thanks to Nearl and her grandfather, it left her previous experiences feeling sorely lacking and only served to highlight just how shit her family had been.
Eventually, she came to the conclusion that… she hated it all, and didn't. She hated how her life had changed, because it made her acknowledge just how broken everything had been, but she was also extremely grateful for it, because now she had another path to look forward to.
The uncertainty of what the future would hold for the life she had left behind in that car crash kept gnawing at her mind, mixed with the anticipation of how she would continue to change now that she had people who genuinely supported her and gave her the chance to grow.
In the end, was it any surprise that being in this room made her so uncomfortable?
Realizing she wouldn't accomplish anything productive by just sitting here and feeling sorry for herself, she sighed and stood up. "...I'll keep in touch," she said to her father before leaving the room, unable to face the atmosphere of the room any longer.
Missy found a somewhat secluded spot to sit in in the lobby and claimed it for herself. She unlocked her phone, looking through the recent messages. Only to then blink as she spotted two new ones from Carol.
Reading the first, she found herself somewhat befuddled. Bounty money? The thought was somewhat surreal to her, but it was yet another tangible piece of evidence she had truly become an actual hero.
According to the message, any payments of this kind go into the New Wave account, where they then get split across the relevant members that took part in the capture. In this case she got the entire bounty money for Victor and Othala, which amounted to…
Eight thousand dollars?!
Missy stared at the amount in awe. What the hell was she going to do with so much money?!
Hmm… save it for expenses, realistically. She didn't have an income, and she still had her dad's hospital bills to worry about. Or, well, not anymore, at least for the foreseeable future.
And knowing Nearl, the kuranta was going to hand most of her reward to her as well. Her friend hadn't really spent a whole lot of money while on Bet, honestly. The only thing Missy remembered was the brush, of all things. Nearl was borderline ascetic as far as she could tell, and it didn't seem realistic for that to change, either.
The second message was about her costume. The real one, not the one currently sitting in a briefcase under her bed back home. Apparently, Carol had placed the order, but it would take until after the holidays for Missy's full costume to be delivered. Oh well, while annoying, it wasn't surprising. The basic one would do for now.
Other than that, there weren't really any new messages. Well, there was a 'typing…' notification from Elle that had been there since before she left home, but she figured the girl had spaced out again and forgotten about her phone, so that was a different can of worms.
Still, no other messages. Missy wasn't sure if she liked that or not. On one hand, nobody seemed to have really noticed her heroics. On the other hand, nobody is trying to pester her because they did notice her heroics. Maybe she should just follow Nearl's example and not bother keeping up with her own fame – or lack of it, in this case.
Given how much her mother used to rant about the state of the media, this might be a very good thing. It might also not matter at all, because her mother hadn't exactly been a trustworthy source of information.
She sighed just before hearing an excited squeal, which caused her to perk up and spot a little girl running straight towards her.
"Mom! That's her!" the girl shouted as she finally reached Missy, excitedly grabbing at her hands.
The older girl put her phone away for now, although it was more reflex than anything. At the same time, she wondered why the kid in front of her looked so familiar…
"Sally, calm down," her mother berated the girl, albeit with some amusement as she slowly walked over to the somewhat overwhelmed Missy.
The woman then gave her a cursory look. "So you're the new cape? With New Wave, right?"
The girl nodded. "Yes, ma'am. The name's Astra."
Glancing around, she noticed that the few people in the lobby were now paying attention to her. She cursed her luck inwardly. Why'd she have to be recognized now?
"Huh, you're much younger than I expected," the woman idly said, and Missy easily hid what little annoyance the comment caused her. "Anyway, I'd like to thank you for keeping my daughter safe. She ran off while I was talking to someone, and then the gunshots started. I was so worried…"
Missy smiled back, even if inwardly she was really bothered by her not taking better care of her child. "Things turned out okay in the end, right?"
"I suppose so," the woman replied with a smile, "So why haven't I heard of you yet? Or that Case 53 woman, for that matter? There's usually something on the news by now..."
The girl blinked. "I'm not actually sure, but there should be a press release coming soon. I don't know the details myself, sorry."
Missy was tempted to correct her on the whole Case 53 thing, but figured there'd be no real point in doing so.
In the corner of her vision, she noticed that the little girl, Sally, was getting fidgety, so she turned towards her.
"Uhm, can I… can I have an autograph?" Sally requested rather shyly, a huge difference from her previous energy.
"Uh… sure?" Missy replied, feeling very happy on the inside all of a sudden. She had a fan! "I don't have anything to write on, though. Or anything to write with, for that matter."
She stared for a moment when the girl's mother pulled a pen and a notepad from her purse in an instant.
When Amy and Nearl returned a good hour later, they found Missy surrounded by a small crowd. Luckily, being a holiday, there didn't seem to be that many people in the hospital's lobby; less than a dozen, at most. Still, she answered what questions she could, erring on the side of caution.
"May I ask what's happening here?" Nearl asked with some bemusement as she approached.
The crowd was quick to disperse once they saw her, and Amy seemed to follow behind Nearl almost sheepishly.
"It's fine," Missy replied with a smile. "Sally here just recognized me from two days ago. They're just excited to see a new cape, I guess."
With that, she brushed the question off, hopping onto her feet. "It was nice meeting you all, but I gotta get going now. Goodbye!"
Giving Sally a quick hug which the girl enthusiastically returned, and then bowing politely towards the crowd, she hastily followed the others out of the hospital lobby. Now on the street, she slowed down a little and slumped tiredly.
Missy idly noted that Amy seemed amused by her misery. "Sup, champ? How's Christmas treating you? You seem exhausted," the healer quipped, unusually peppy. Oh, how the turntables…
The younger girl groaned. "That's because I am exhausted. I'd rather go run a few laps around Brockton Bay than talk to such a nosy crowd again."
"Hm," Nearl hummed thoughtfully with a hand on her chin, likely contemplating the validity of such an exercise.
For some reason, that scared Missy. A lot.
"Riiiiiiight," Amy smirked at the younger girl, who pouted in response. The gesture, unfortunately, only caused the smirk to widen, until she eventually eased off with a huff and looked ahead. "Anyway, I… thanks. I'm… really not that used to people paying this much attention to me."
The kuranta turned her head towards the other girl with a raised eyebrow, confusion clear across her face. "Pardon? How is that even possible? You can cure… almost everything, unless I misunderstood?"
The Dallon girl nodded. "Yeah, but… people got used to that real quick. Like yeah, I'll cure someone's cancer or save their life and they'll thank me, but… to be honest, it's all kind of blending together, at this point. People pay way more attention to Vicky. She's the photogenic one and also the one going out on patrol and stuff. I'm just kinda… hidden away in the hospital, I guess."
Nearl shook her head. "That is absolutely absurd. Every single country back on Terra would go to war over an ability as amazing as yours. And you barely get any recognition, despite the fact that you're using it to help others, out of your own volition and with no recompense? You are seriously underappreciated here. Don't let it get to you, you are a great person," she reassured with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Amy stopped in her tracks, looking between the kuranta and Missy, who nodded along eagerly. For some reason, the girl turned beet red, actually tearing up a little.
"...Thank you." she eventually managed to get out, a soft smile on her lips.
After escorting Amy back to her house, the two of them went back home so that Nearl could change into her casual clothes. Once done, they went out on a walk to the park in Captain's Hill. Due to the cold snow and the fact that it was Christmas, there weren't a lot of people going around.
It was pretty quiet outside, which Missy certainly appreciated. While she had become quite brave over the course of last week, loud noises were still something that she disliked being around for too long – Growing up surrounded by constant shouting would do that to you.
Once they reached the park, they walked around for some time and sat down once they found a dry bench. Coming to a silent agreement, the two of them kept quiet and simply laid back to relax and bask in the peaceful winter scenery, with only the distant chirping of birds and laughing children playing as their background noise.
After a while, Nearl sighed longingly. "Ah, this brings me back. I'm not sure if you've seen it, but I used to enjoy visiting the parks back home."
"Used to?" Missy repeated, tilting her head in curiosity.
"By the time I returned from my exile, all three of them had been replaced by office buildings," the kuranta scowled. "The Kazimierz of today has neither time nor interest for preserving and appreciating nature."
Missy stared into the distance, imagining the sight. She frowned at how easily she could imagine people doing something like that. It was strange how Bet and Terra could be so different and yet so alike at the same time.
"That's a pity, I'd have loved to visit them with you," the girl replied, smiling as she did. "Well, If we can somehow find a way back to Terra, that is."
Nearl shook her head. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I'd want you nowhere near that damned place. If I didn't have family there, and so many other ties, I might have just left for good. One of the few things I agree with my uncle on is that one should leave Kazimierz while they still can. It's just not a good place to be in. I'm trying to change that, but…"
Missy patted her leg reassuringly. "I believe in you. You can do it."
The Kuranta smiled back at the girl. "Thank you."
They lapsed into a brief silence, before Missy asked: "So how are things going over there on the other side?"
Nearl hummed thoughtfully in response. "Well… Shining, Liz and I finally arrived back at Rhodes Island yesterday after we finished settling some previous commitments. We've been talking with Amiya about our findings with this entire dream situation so far. Oh, and we did talk about the cure for cancer as well; she is open to the idea of sharing the technology. Dr. Kal'tsit, the head of Rhodes Island's medical department, has granted me access to their cancer research papers, and I've been studying and memorizing them ever since," she explained, before pausing and perking up. "Ah! That reminds me…"
Reaching into her bag, the kuranta pulled out a pen and notebook and began quickly jotting down notes, idly continuing with what she had been saying as she wrote. "In any case, as I expected, Amiya hopes to find a way to get Panacea to Terra, but I'm not quite as optimistic as she is about that particular subject. Besides that, she has been oddly nervous ever since we shared the more broad details of this world with her, and it's only gotten more noticeable after she talked with Dr. Kal'tsit about it. Whatever it is that's bothering her, they've been discussing it behind closed doors ever since," her friend replied with a sigh, shaking her head.
"What do you mean? You think they discovered something bad?" Missy asked with a worried frown.
Nearl pursed her lips and paused her writing as she mulled her response. "Not as such, no. From what I gathered, I got the distinct impression that we've accidentally stepped on a landmine of classified information, and now the Rhodes leadership is trying to figure out how to handle it. For now, all we can do is wait for them to reach a conclusion and see what they tell us."
Missy raised an incredulous eyebrow at that. "What? You don't think they'll hide things from you?"
The kuranta shook her head in response. "Not without good cause, at least. Every organization has its secrets – information that's kept on a strictly need-to-know basis for one reason or another. That's simply a fact of life, but I trust the people at Rhodes Island enough to know that whatever they may be hiding is kept that way for good reason."
Missy blinked, surprised at the usually wary kuranta being so willing to trust an organization. For them to garner such faith from her mentor…
Looks like Rhodes Island was the real deal, huh?
"Regardless, for now we ought to focus on getting this information to the PRT," her friend said, tapping the notebook with her pen. "They'll want to hear about it first before passing it on to the relevant government bodies, and the sooner we get it done, the sooner they can start helping the people that need this cure."
Missy nodded in understanding, her face serious. "Right, so how do you–" was as far as she got before their talk was interrupted by the laughter of children, which caught both of their attention. A group of them had been playing in the distance and running around, but their path eventually brought them closer and closer to the two. After they spotted the duo, one of them ran straight towards them, the others quickly following. Missy was surprised to see they seemed to be around the same age as her.
"Look! I told you it was her!" one of the boys said, excitedly pointing at Nearl and looking at a girl in their group.
…Seriously? The first time someone recognized Nearl in her civilian outfit, and it was a bunch of children?
Figures…
"That's so cool!" another boy gushed, not even letting the girls in their group get a word in.
Aaaaaand Missy was completely forgotten, apparently. She grumbled inwardly at that. Why did her ass-kicking have to happen in a secluded alleyway?
…Wait, hadn't she been complaining about having too much fame not an hour ago? Gah! Why couldn't she make up her mind? Why was she like this?!
One of the girls pulled her out of her inner conflict by grabbing her arm. "Hey! Do you want to join us? With you, we could have a proper snow fight!"
Missy reeled back in confusion. "Huh?"
"Well, there's only five of us, duh!" she said as if it was obvious. "With you we could split up and have a fair fight!"
Missy blinked, turning towards Nearl with a questioning look.
"I'll be busy with these notes for a while, and I don't think reading them will do anything but bore you, so go on ahead. I'll be here in the meantime," her mentor replied with a smile and a shrug.
The rest of the kids behind Missy cheered in response.
And with that, Missy somehow found herself roped into a snowball fight with a bunch of kids. Apparently, they were feeling lazy and had made the teams just boys vs girls. The teams were pretty even, since she was holding back to make things fair, but the boys were a lot more coordinated.
Mostly because they were really focused on her, since while she did hold back to give them a chance, that didn't mean she stopped dodging. They boys seemingly took this as a challenge, if the way all three of them had been trying to hit her with snowballs for the last five minutes was any indication. It didn't seem like they were going for the other girls all that much, which her team definitely took advantage of, not that the boys had realized it yet.
Running, jumping and dodging in increasingly acrobatic displays of skill, Missy went on to lead the enemy team into their masterfully crafted ambush.
A moment later, she found herself completely surrounded on all sides.
"We got you now, blondie! Nowhere left to run!" one of the boys yelled, grinning victoriously.
"Oh yeah? Try me!" Missy grinned right back, and in response, all three of the boys reared their arms back to pelt her with snowballs.
And just as they did so, she called out to her team: "Now, girls!"
The two girls popped out of their hiding spots in the mounds of snow around them just as the enemy's projectiles flew towards her. And this time, Missy felt like showing off a little.
Bracing herself, she jumped and rotated with inherited coordination and experience, performing a perfect corkscrew flip – something she didn't even know was a thing a week ago, but that she absolutely loved to death now – and dodged all three projectiles, launching her own while still in mid-air and knocking one of the boys on his butt when she beaned him with a high-speed snowball, and then did a three-point landing to cap it off just as the girls started pelting the boys with snowballs as well, causing them to cry out in dismay and retreat, dragging their fallen comrade behind them.
And as her two teammates crowded around her and cheered excitedly, Missy thought that, maybe, acting her age from time to time wasn't all that bad, after all.
"Well, that was a lotta fun," Missy mused after they were done roughly an hour later. At that point the kids' parents had come to pick them up to head home for their own festivities, although the kids mentioned that they all lived nearby and always got together to play at that park, so she was welcomed to visit again to play with them if she ever stopped by.
"Glad to hear it," Nearl replied with some amusement as she stored her notebook. "You seemed like you were having a good time, but we should probably head back and get you into something dry."
The girl rolled her eyes, but didn't disagree.
The trip back home was thankfully uneventful. The two of them shared dinner, once again a recipe from Terra - although Missy did note that their Christmas traditions were surprisingly similar to Bet's.
Still, it seemed a bit odd that the traditional Christmas food over there was the local equivalent of a cow.
"Well then, we still have some of the afternoon left to burn. Do you have any suggestions as to what to do with the time?" the kuranta asked as she finished washing the dishes.
"Eh, not really. I don't really feel like doing any big stuff today," Missy replied with a shrug.
Her mentor nodded in agreement. "Very well, but I think we should go over to the PRT and hand over my notes, at least. I fear they won't be enough on their own, so we should make haste and let them formulate their response on anything they might need clarifications on."
The girl pouted, but didn't complain.
Nearl noticed regardless. "Don't think of it as a distraction, think of it as a present for all the people we will help," the woman said with a smile.
Well, when she put it like that, how could she say no?
And so, after changing into their costumes, the two of them headed down to the PRT, but not before a quick phone call announcing they'd be coming over.
Being greeted by Armsmaster was still one hell of a surprise, though. She thought the man would at least take the holiday off to spend time with his family, but then again, he did seem rather interested in Terran technology.
"Good afternoon, and happy holidays. Thank you for coming in despite the date. I was told you prepared notes?" the man greeted them, wasting no time getting to the point.
Missy found herself surprisingly appreciative of the fact as he went on to lead them to his lab. Though she did pout a little at the fact that he didn't even spare a glance at her new costume.
"I do," Nearl confirmed as they walked, pulling her notes out her bag once they were out of sight. "Unfortunately, I fear it might not be enough to produce a workable understanding of the cure for your people yet, as I've only had a single day to study and memorize the research papers. I am no technician or biologist, after all, although I did my best to describe how the process works and what tools are required."
"We suspected that would be the case. In fact, that is why we are still talking about it, rather than referring you to the government proper. Ordinary technology falls outside of our purview, but we were asked to make sure it is actually replicable by non-tinkers first." Armsmaster explained as Nearl handed him the notebook and allowed them to take a seat as he went over them.
The occasional frown or thoughtful hum as he read did not fill Missy with confidence, however. Eventually, he looked up.
"The biology scanner you describe seems like it may be possible with current technology, but it would be considered cutting edge. If nothing else, I believe Dragon to be able to mass-produce such an item even if I have to make it first. This item alone would certainly help quite a lot of people, regardless of whether we can replicate the cure or not," he summarized.
He then paused briefly, doing something with a panel on his armored forearm and seemingly looking off into empty space. Probably taking notes, somehow?
"The main problem I foresee here is likely what your researchers call the 'command protein'. To the best of my knowledge, modern science lacks the ability to program proteins to such a fine and complex degree at our current level of technology. Although it would most likely be possible for biotinkers." Armsmaster continued.
"Based on your tone, I assume that is problematic?" her companion inquired with a raised eyebrow.
"Biotinkers do not have a good reputation in general due to past incidents, and the known ones that are likely able to recreate this are villains, yes. I can tap a few resources, but additional information would be appreciated nonetheless," the man agreed.
He then looked down at the notes for a few moments, pursing his lips in thought, before coming to a conclusion.
"Either way, unless you can get the technical specifications of this protein on paper or somehow bring over the actual hardware to create it, it will likely stay irreproducible by common means for the foreseeable future, and therefore remain in the PRT's purview," he explained.
Nearl closed her eyes for a moment, rubbing her temples. "I see," she said with a sigh. "At least I expected as much, which is why I came to deliver these notes as soon as possible. Would you be able to highlight which other parts of the cure your people require clarification on? That way I'll be able to focus on that during my studies."
Armsmaster nodded in approval. "I will contact our medical department and inform you as soon as we have a list of more specific questions for you to bring back. Expect a message the day after tomorrow, at the latest. Thank you for your timely arrival," he said, before pausing and frowning in thought. "Speaking of which, your arrival here has… not gone unnoticed by the government."
The kuranta visibly tensed at the comment. "Nothing problematic, I hope?"
Armsmaster seemed a bit surprised by the reaction, but declined commenting. "From what I've heard, there were a few people that were quite concerned about making contact with a new dimension."
The tinker went on to retrieve a tablet computer, handing it to her friend.
"I'm not sure if you are aware, but our initial contact with Earth Aleph almost began with a war, which is why dimensional technology like Haywire's has been outlawed. You may peruse this tablet to find out more, I've loaded up the relevant information already. Thankfully, the results of the power testing were quite helpful in preventing the worst," the man clarified.
Her friend nodded in agreement, taking a moment to skim through the history of the incident in question.
"I understand. I assume as long as there is no proper path for a military force to cross over, there won't be a problem?" the kuranta inquired.
"Indeed," Armsmaster agreed, "Of course, the positive interactions so far have helped a lot with smoothing things over, even if it made people worried about the recompense. Either way, you can expect a government official to arrive relatively soon, to be hosted by the PRT. They may have additional questions or requests in the future. The fact that Terra is so different from Bet also has the government quite intrigued, so I imagine they might send an anthropologist or historian for an interview with you as well."
Nearl tapped her foot on the floor as she considered the matter.
Her eventual response was rather noncommittal. "For what it's worth, I do believe it's for the best that there is no proper connection to Terra. Even disregarding military matters, I wouldn't want to risk importing oripathy. Even if you may be able to deal with it, the disease has caused so much misery that I would never forgive myself if I risked anyone getting infected by it."
"I understand and agree. Well, this should just about cover things. I'd still like to inspect that weapon of yours at some point, of course, but for now I mainly need some time in order to contact people, among other things." Armsmaster continued.
Missy could have sworn he had to resist the urge of reaching for the weapon just now. Tinkers…
"I do not have an issue with that, but I'm unwilling to part with it for an entire day. As such, I'd prefer to make a proper appointment for it. Perhaps we could schedule something in the coming mornings?" Nearl answered.
"Understandable. You know how to contact me, but for now I must get back to work. Enjoy the rest of the holidays," the man stated, already having turned back to his workstation.
"You too," the two chorused as they navigated their way out of the building on their own accord.
As they left, Missy idly wondered if the guy ever took a day off. Or slept. That much enthusiasm for work could not be healthy.
"Ugh…" Missy groaned after getting back home and collapsing on the couch.
"Tired already? It's been a pretty mild day, all things considered," Nearl mused aloud as she hung her coat on the rack by the door.
"Not really. I can still like, get up and run a few marathons. It's just that my brain feels like mush after all the nerd talk between you and Armsmaster. Ugh," the girl complained in exaggerated disgust.
Nearl shrugged in response. "It was a necessary thing. Oftentimes the most tedious tasks are the most important ones," she lectured.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Missy huffed in exasperation. "It's just weird going from jumping across buildings and beating up bad guys, to… well, today. I didn't expect things to be so peaceful, if I'm honest," she mused aloud.
"Peace is a thing to be treasured, Missy. Days like these are a rare and precious thing for those that walk the path of knighthood. You'll do well to learn to appreciate them while you can," Nearl gently chided.
Missy turned to stare at her in silence for a while. "...You really think so?" she eventually asked, sounding uncertain.
"Back home? I know so," her mentor answered without hesitation. "Here on Earth, however? While I can't say as such with the same confidence, I've been doing enough research into cape life in our spare time to make me suspect the same thing applies here as well. If the statistics are to be believed, the average parahuman does not lead a long and fulfilling life – let alone a happy one."
The girl bit her lip in concern at her response. "So… what? Today was just a fluke, and I'll have to live my life constantly looking over my shoulder, expecting everything to go to shit?"
"Language," her mentor chided with a light frown. "And no, nothing so bleak. While the world may at times seem covered in shadow, it is us who can shine a light to banish the darkness. So long as you never lose sight of that, things will never turn so dark," she reassured with a determined smile and gentle squeeze of her shoulder.
Missy relaxed back into the couch with a sigh. "You know, sometimes I start to think you're a normal person, but then you go and say sappy stuff like that. No wonder people call you the Radiant Knight. Like, who even says that?" she griped, throwing her arms up in mock exasperation.
Nearl raised an eyebrow in response. "I do. And for the record, I am perfectly normal, thank you very much," she sniffed in exaggerated derision as she walked past her and offhandedly slapped her in the face with her tail, causing the girl to sputter in indignation.
"Regardless of that, it's getting pretty late, and I was hoping we could do one more thing before you went to bed," the kuranta absentmindedly commented as she reached above a shelf in the living room and retrieved something.
Whatever retort or complaint Missy might've had died on her lips as she registered her words and perked up in response. "And that would be…?" she asked in a wary, but nonetheless intrigued tone.
"Well, I got this book here that I was recommended, and I was hoping we could read it together," the kuranta said with a sunny smile, hefting up said book.
Missy took one look at the cover and felt a crack form in her composure and her breath hitch in her throat, already knowing where this was going. "Neaaaaaarl," the girl whined with a pout. "I'm twelve and a half years old, I'm not a little kid anymore! I'm way too old for bedtime stories," she petulantly complained.
Her mentor hummed thoughtfully in response. "Well… Then I suppose I could simply return it. It won't be a great loss, after all…" she mused with a shrug of her shoulders as she went to put the book back where it was, fighting down the urge to smile.
"No!" Missy suddenly shot forward, her hand extended towards her in an aborted motion before she froze. "I– err, I mean–" Ah, screw it. She already put up the token effort of resistance, and it's not like she hadn't decided acting her age was okay sometimes. "Okay, fine!" she quickly exclaimed, refusing to meet her eyes as her face flushed in embarrassment.
Nearl smiled sweetly in response, and after a bit of moving stuff around and setting things up, the two of them were laying back on the couch with the only lights left in the house coming from a floor lamp nearby and the gently flickering flames of the fireplace across from them.
Missy found herself leaning back into Nearl's shoulder, swaddled in a blanket like a burrito and hugging her Nearl plushie, while her mentor wrapped her arms around her, the book laying across her lap as she softly recited the passages for her with the passion of an experienced storyteller.
"Every Who down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot…
But the Grinch, who lived just north of Whoville, did not!
The Grinch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right.
It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all,
May have been that his heart was two sizes too small…"
As Missy's teary eyes slowly grew tired, her last thoughts before drifting off into peaceful sleep was that, maybe, Nearl was onto something with her little speech about treasuring these precious moments while she could.
A.N:
Merry Christmas! Wait, what do you mean I'm three months late? What the fu-
Aaaand we're back! Now that all the mushy stuff is out of the way, we can finally pick up the pace. Hopefully you guys enjoyed all the good feels. Or if not, lemme know your thoughts down below.
Oh that's lovely! Really wonderfully written and even though I've never looked at Arknights beyond an overview, this story/quest is very nice to read, and learn about people from.
Though, given the mention of Protection Quest, I'm a bit worried. That quest turned from a power fantasy into an endless chain of more and more powerful enemies. How's that going to be handled here? I mean, there's likely going to be some level of more things happening - but hopefully it isn't going to be something rapid like several disasters within a few weeks/months that shake the world, yet MC basically never steps out beyond the city?
Also, do love how the "carry things over" is handled by just going "no", at least in general case. Originium is a nasty thing and I'm really glad it's prevented from spreading out to Bet. Hope there's no plans to let that "bleed through" by pay-to-win via omakes?
Sorry for the grumbling above, just kinda left with a lot of thoughts on PQ and wanted to know just how much it is relied on for inspiration beyond initial idea.
Thanks for the writing so far, however. It's been really nice to read and see people interact ^^
Oh that's lovely! Really wonderfully written and even though I've never looked at Arknights beyond an overview, this story/quest is very nice to read, and learn about people from.
Though, given the mention of Protection Quest, I'm a bit worried. That quest turned from a power fantasy into an endless chain of more and more powerful enemies. How's that going to be handled here? I mean, there's likely going to be some level of more things happening - but hopefully it isn't going to be something rapid like several disasters within a few weeks/months that shake the world, yet MC basically never steps out beyond the city?
Also, do love how the "carry things over" is handled by just going "no", at least in general case. Originium is a nasty thing and I'm really glad it's prevented from spreading out to Bet. Hope there's no plans to let that "bleed through" by pay-to-win via omakes?
Sorry for the grumbling above, just kinda left with a lot of thoughts on PQ and wanted to know just how much it is relied on for inspiration beyond initial idea.
Thanks for the writing so far, however. It's been really nice to read and see people interact ^^
I don't think Projection Quest had a chain of more and more powerful enemies? Iirc most of them are the usual fare for Brockton Bay and its protag is one of the strongest people around.
The idea at the very least was to have a more stable power curve going up (which is why it's restricted to a single setting). It is intended to be a more true-to-characters fic, so enemies won't just show up for the purpose of showing up, if that makes sense.
Regarding bleed: There is no intent to do such a thing. If anything is brought over it'll be because of deliberate action of characters. I personally found the massive bleed a bit much in PQ, myself. So technically originium can be imported, but it won't do so automatically and essentially out of your control - this was one of the things that actually bothered me a lot about other Arknights fics. Originium is terrible to have but by no means is it an instant worldwide apocalypse.
I don't think Projection Quest had a chain of more and more powerful enemies? Iirc most of them are the usual fare for Brockton Bay and its protag is one of the strongest people around.
The idea at the very least was to have a more stable power curve going up (which is why it's restricted to a single setting). It is intended to be a more true-to-characters fic, so enemies won't just show up for the purpose of showing up, if that makes sense.
Regarding bleed: There is no intent to do such a thing. If anything is brought over it'll be because of deliberate action of characters. I personally found the massive bleed a bit much in PQ, myself. So technically originium can be imported, but it won't do so automatically and essentially out of your control - this was one of the things that actually bothered me a lot about other Arknights fics. Originium is terrible to have but by no means is it an instant worldwide apocalypse.
Oh, whew, this makes me feel much better. Especially the part about Originium. Definitely agree it dramatically changes the tone of any fic that just lets the thing out into the wild. And yeah, while it's a rather difficult to control substance, it is by no mean impossible to contain... on a small enough scale. Basically just like any infective disease, something that can rapidly mess everything up if left completely unchecked, but otherwise manageable. Though one does have to wonder how much of Originium survivability is caused by Terra population not being actual humans...
As for PQ bleedover, yeeeeah. I've kinda dropped out of binge reading it at one point, but after seeing the whole "literally hell" thing, uhhh. That's a bit much?
As for the "more and more powerful enemies", mmm. I've kinda noticed that it kept moving in a pattern of a bit of quiet followed by some or another disaster happening - and I think much earlier than canon? And rather close together, like once or twice a month unless I'm severely misinterpreting the timeline...
And it kinda kept on with that while the enemies kept getting more powerful - if not individually then collectively. Though I've not read it past "Uber and Leet hold heavily empowered Taylor at standstill and get her to call in everyone", what with them perfectly integrating soul stuff there from bleedthrough being a bit much.
... But yeah, thanks for the clarification on bleedthrough stuff! Really glad that it isn't an OOC force entirely and that it's planned to be limited. And there's much less existential angst in regards to "where do these people come/go" both for the characters and for readers.
And hmm. I wonder if one of the ways Originium can end up spreading to bet is via purposefully injecting some into a person until it starts to replicate and after the original sample disappears the new stuff remains? Or wait, could it be done with just throwing some at a steak/etc? Hmm. Does make me wonder how dangerous it would be to have anyone from Terra bleeding about /if/ this is the case - unless their Originium just doesn't replicate?
Contrary to popular belief, Emily Piggot didn't dislike parahumans just for being parahumans. No, what she disliked was simply their propensity for creating problems and endless amounts of extra work for her and the PRT.
Which, unfortunately, was something they did with enthusiasm. Except for maybe Parian, if she was feeling charitable, and attributed all the blame for reports of gang recruitment attempts solely to the gangs - even if it doubtlessly were only an issue because of the woman's insistence on being a rogue.
Unfortunately for the fashionista, Emily was seldom in a mood one could call 'charitable'. Parian was leaning far too much on the PRT to defend her, without giving anything in return in Emily's opinion. A freeloader, in other words.
She was brought out of her musings by the obnoxiously cheery startup jingle of her computer. A few security checks later, and she opened her inbox. She then failed to bite back a sigh, as she saw a big red '36' waiting to greet her.
It was empty when she signed off just yesterday.
Scanning the first few headers only confirmed her suspicions. Asignificant number of the emails were in some way, shape or form related to the newest arrivals in this powderkeg of a city. The parahuman Astra, and… whatever that woman counted as. Melissa Biron and Margaret Nearl.
Emily still found it somewhat odd that the woman chose her last name for a cape name, but who was she to judge? After all, she still found it odd that the PRT kept the Shadow Stalker brand. Maybe she was just out of touch in that regard.
Despite the mountain of work Astra had inadvertently created for her, however, Emily wasn't unreasonable enough to dislike her personally over it. People couldn't choose what powers they triggered with, after all. Still, she had to mentally note that the girl's power was bizarre.
Despite claims to the contrary, she knew full well how parahumans and their powers worked – Emily was a PRT director, after all, and knowing such things was her damn job whether she liked it or not.
Though its absence confused the research staff, she didn't really care about what tumor Astra did or didn't have in her brain. Melissa Biron went through a bog-standard trigger event and got a power. If she looks like a parahuman, acts like a parahuman and thinks like a parahuman, she's a parahuman.
The power expression was the only thing that would cast doubt on the situation. Most projection powers included at least some degree of control over said projection, and yet, the only form of control the girl seemed to have over Nearl was a range limit.
From what Emily could tell, if anything, it felt more like Astra was deferring to Nearl most of the time. Which would be concerning in any other scenario, but the horse woman – and God, did that thought still feel weird to her – seemed very reasonable and responsible. Enough that she certainly didn't fit the common patterns parahumans all fell into.
Meaning that Astra's power amounted to 'summon responsible adult', which… said a lot about the girl's previous home life. What was truly odd was that it summoned said adult from an entirely different dimension, as if it wanted as little to do with Brockton Bay and Earth Bet as possible.
Emily could certainly relate.
With that fresh in mind, she scrolled through her messages to see if the results of that particular investigation had come in. Yet another completely avoidable disaster.
That department should know better than this, the director grumbled. A freshly triggered parahuman always feels vulnerable, which means they'll be on the lookout for trouble. So trying to trap them in a contract like that just makes them all the more likely to see the PRT as an enemy.
Emily was very grateful for the fact that those two were still willing to work together with her to such a degree. The fact that she joined New Wave rather than some gang was an outright blessing.
Still, someone was going to be fired if she had anything to say about it. The only question was if it would be over incompetence or malice.
Unfortunately, her search for any news on the ongoing internal investigation came back empty for now. Oh well, on to the next topic it was. Which turned out to be an email from Armsmaster.
Opening the file and reading through the report, she found herself blinking in surprise. Those two had come in to deliver the promised notes regarding the technology exchange. On Christmas. Nearl had better not be another Armsmaster, or else she might actually start feeling sorry for Astra. This city can only handle one workaholic on that man's level, she thought to herself.
Not that the reason for it wasn't strange in itself. Emily still found it odd how willing Rhodes Island was to give away such valuable technology, though the thought quickly left her mind as it wasn't her problem anymore.
Her hand flinched away from clicking the next email as her phone rang. She would have frowned, but stopped as she noted the caller – the Chief Director. Sometimes it felt like that woman could hear you frown over the phone, somehow, so she had to restrain herself.
"Piggot speaking. Good Morning, Chief Director," Emily greeted her superior.
"Hello, Emily," Costa-Brown replied with what almost felt like irritation. "I can only assume it isn't really what amounts to a 'good' morning for either of us. I'll spare you the details, but I've been stuck in meetings since yesterday evening. You know why."
The director nodded to herself. "The girl."
The chief director sighed. "Indeed. First things first, the press release will have to be delayed. Again. There are too many concerns about making contact with another dimension; Aleph's first contact disaster is still too fresh in a lot of people's minds. I suggest you proceed with your press release on the Empire captures but leave any information on our wayward visitor out for now."
Her conversation partner took a moment to catch her breath.
"We'll leave the news about Terra for a separate conference, one that I will personally handle. I have people working on a better spin, but I suspect mentioning the fact that our visitor is only here due to a power expression would be the easiest way to avoid panic, as how we came into contact with another world is what's most likely to make the public worry." Rebecca Costa-Brown finished.
Emily briefly made a note on that before humming in thought.
"Hm. That may endanger the girl, something her companion will surely be aware of," she replied, tapping her fingers on the table briefly as a thought came to her mind. "Perhaps we could leave their names out, or simply ask for permission?"
Her superior remained silent for just a second longer than usual before answering. "Please do the latter."
Emily briefly glanced at her inbox, which appeared to have already increased; 15 new unread mails.
"Are there plans to implement an official policy regarding that girl?" she asked mostly out of curiosity. "As I appear to have a lot of information requests regarding various aspects of this matter, both from the research department and the government."
The fact that such an official policy would mean less work trying to figure out this headache had nothing to do with it, of course. Nothing.
"Not yet, but it's in the works. The opinions among the directors are unfortunately very divided, which is causing some issues. For the time being, keep going as you were and try to maintain a cordial relationship. Even if making contact with more dimensions isn't something we wanted, this exchange went well so far, so let's keep it that way."
Emily found herself nodding along to that. She most certainly didn't want to be known as the director that started an interdimensional war just because she assumed the other party wouldn't find a way here.
"I can certainly agree with that. Anything else I should keep in mind?" she asked after scribbling some more notes.
Costa-Brown was quick to answer that question. "If you can get the girl into the Wards somehow, it would appease a lot of people. There are a lot of murmurs about the lack of control we have over this situation, even if New Wave is a lot better than most options."
Emily allowed herself to frown over this one.
"I expected that much, but it'll be a balancing act. I don't think forcing the matter will go well. We don't have much to work with currently, even the check-ins by the temporary guardian have gone smoothly. Apart from the oddity of remodeling the living room into an improvised training room, that household is immaculate," she retorted. "I suspect that it's better kept now than it was before, even."
Another pause allowed her to think about the issue for a couple more seconds, but she had the feeling that getting the girl to join the Wards willingly might be difficult, even ignoring New Wave's opinion on the matter.
"I understand. As I said, the relationship with the Terrans takes priority. Just do what you can. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few more meetings to juggle." the Chief Director continued before somewhat abruptly ending the call. Emily was used to it at this point, so she didn't really mind.
Naturally, she did the logical thing: Moving on to the next email that wasn't about this damn topic.
A status report on the Empire? Yes, that would do nicely. She eagerly scanned through the contents. They had abruptly quieted down since Hookwolf's arrest, and she wasn't so naive as to believe they were simply licking their wounds. She had a few ideas on what they might be planning that she would have to follow up on.
Rebecca leaned back into her chair after the call concluded, heaving a tired sigh and rubbing at her eye. Really, this entire last week had been... something else.
The president breathing down her neck, PRT directors scrambling like headless chickens and nearly coming to blows over disagreements on how to handle the issue, over a dozen government officials clamoring over each other for the chance to interview the so-called 'visitor', their entire research department up in arms in the middle of the holidays as they feverishly poured over the data they had received just a day ago, Contessa shrugging her shoulders and simply telling her to play along.
And all because of one little girl.
It was almost hard to believe how everything could be thrown into such disarray from one single unexpected variable. Rebecca had been half tempted to just come out and tell them that it was all a farce to wash her hands of this entire circus, but knew that doing so would compromise Cauldron and create an even bigger headache for her.
After all, it simply took reaching out to Clairvoyant and asking him to locate the world of Terra to conclude that Margaret Nearl was just a projection, even if overly elaborate and bizarre for the work of an Agent. But it wasn't as if she could explain why she knew that.
Despite the results from Watchdog's inquiries on the matter, there was one simple fact Cauldron was privy to that sealed the entire ordeal:
The world of Terra did not exist to Clairvoyant's senses. Which meant it was most likely a fabrication from the girl's power and own imagination.
But as galling as playing along to a child's fantasies to such a degree was to her, it was still far more palatable than some of the things they had to tolerate for the greater good. After all, It was a farce, but at least it was a fruitful one. The thought of a projection providing technology was extremely odd, but on the other hand, it also wasn't tinkertech.
No, it was just more advanced technology than what was available on Bet. Despite said projection claiming not to be a tinker, or even an engineer. No, 'she' claimed to be a knight, of all things.
And yet, as bizarre as the projection was, it nevertheless bore fruit to play along with it, if the mounting reports that had their researchers practically giddy with excitement were any indication. As she read through these reports, she found herself frowning, a strange feeling welling up within her.
The cure was in fact completely mundane, and after much analysis, they concluded that the science behind it tentatively checked out, even if it was more advanced than their current understanding. But frankly, 'more advanced' was still a direct upgrade compared to the 'utterly incomprehensible' that the PRT's researchers normally dealt with when trying to analyze tinkertech, which was the reason they were causing such a ruckus about this entire ordeal even in the middle of the holidays.
They did not have the means to recreate the cure yet, but just knowing the principles behind it was already immensely valuable. According to their best estimates, if they dedicated enough funding into the required fields of research, they would be able to produce a working prototype in as little as two decades. This would also result in a great deal of projected advances into the fields of medicine and chemistry.
Two decades to begin eradicating cancer. Much less if the projection was able to provide them with more detailed information, which the researchers were enthusiastically requesting.
Rebecca absentmindedly approved the request and forwarded it to Emily as she leaned back on her chair to stare at the ceiling, her mind far away.
To think that in as little as twenty years from now cancer might become a thing of the past. If the human race lives that long, that is.
She had thought herself over such sentimentality at this point, but Rebecca found herself wistfully thinking back to her childhood regardless. If nobody else had to suffer from that disease like she had…
She shook her head.
No time for this. If it works, it works. If not, it doesn't. She certainly wished them the best of luck, but it wasn't something she could afford to concern herself with as much as she would have liked.
Instead, her mind wandered back to how ridiculous it all was. A girl triggers with an unusual power and half the PRT directorate lose their minds. No matter how much some directors would like it to, you can't just make it illegal for a person to exist. Even if her power worked the way the PRT thought it did, it wasn't a conscious act. Neither is it harming innocent bystanders. The fact that certain individuals had even dared to suggest extreme measures such as the Birdcage or a kill order despite the girl being underage and a hero was deeply disturbing, even to her.
Rebecca was fully aware that the PRT liked to bend the law to their advantage at the best of times, but this was too much. It's a little girl's daydreaming, not a goddamn existential threat.
The more reasonable people wanted her in the Wards, which included Rebecca, of course. Having more direct control over powerful parahumans was always convenient, and Astra seemed decently powerful already.
But unfortunately, there wasn't really a compelling enough reason to force her into the Wards at the moment, especially after that fiasco with the contract. Although there was always the hope that Astra would screw up somewhere and provide them said reason, of course.
Rebecca sighed, glancing at her inbox. It wasn't like she could delegate most of the work, as they were very high-level communications. So much effort, for one little girl.
And most of it was because people took what felt like excerpts from a modern fantasy novel seriously! Angels, devils, beast folk, knights, moving cities powered by magical rocks, actual vampires… the list goes on.
She couldn't understand how they had accepted the existence of such a ridiculous world so easily. Rebecca was tempted to go poke through the local library to find a novel similar to what the projection described as her home world, just so she could beat her subordinate directors with the damn book.
Unfortunately, it remained just that: a temptation. Because according to Contessa, indulging that little girl increased the chances of victory against Scion by as much as 2%.
2%, when the entirety of the PRT currently amounted to a measly 5% increase in the odds. How one little girl could improve their odds nearly half as much as the entire PRT was completely mind-boggling. It didn't make any sense.
She'd have loved an actual explanation for that, but unfortunately, it was not to be. Because of course the girl had to somehow be a blindspot as well. Not to the degree others were, thankfully – Contessa could still build models of her – but direct Paths did not seem to account for her powers, for some reason.
At this rate, they might have to consider scrapping the Brockton Bay experiment if the girl somehow interfered with the Path too much, which would've been inconvenient, but worth doing if she actually improved their odds this much.
Rebecca paused, briefly picking up the copy of Panacea's report as she considered the blindspot. Was it somehow related to the missing Corona and Gemma? She dismissed the thought fairly quickly. There wasn't any evidence for it, really. It wasn't like Eidolon's were missing, either, and he was still a blindspot.
She tapped her fingers on the table. Analyzing the issue with the full breath of her mind.
One of the theories for Eidolon being a blindspot was the variable nature of his powers, as they were chosen by his Agent. Was the girl's Agent more involved than is normal, perhaps? It seemed to be the case for a lot of the threats Cauldron couldn't properly plan for. She hoped it wasn't the case, but it was worth bringing up in the next meeting, at least.
Switching tracks, Rebecca brought up all available recordings – both public and taken from the PRT – of the girl and her projection onto her monitor. Astra's projection was undoubtedly powerful. In a way, it was almost impressive how easily it took apart Hookwolf, one of the most feared capes in Brockton Bay, in a matter of minutes. If anything, 'she' looked downright dismissive of him.
She quickly came to understand why the PRT believed the projection to be real. If she hadn't had access to Clairvoyant, she would have believed them as well. The body language seemed real, the micro-expressions completely accurate to what a human would have.
Speech patterns, accent, mannerisms, hesitation, pauses for thought, displays of emotion, combat style, favored hand, breathing, posture, gait. She brought the full focus of her thinker power to bear, and it concluded that the woman was a sapient being. A sapient construct, one good enough to pass all forms of testing they had done so far.
And yet, Rebecca found herself frowning. Even if it was just a sapient construct, the technology it provided to them was real, the information on its world far too intricate. Her instincts told her that something didn't add up.
She tried considering the matter from a different perspective, ignoring the unlikeliness of such a fantastical world existing. Could there be any chance of it being real? Would that explain why the girl increased their odds so much?
Bringing up the files from Watchdog's analysis, she went over their conclusions. The results were positive, despite the usual vagueness of the answers provided by their thinkers, but there was a common remark of how their powers did not account for the projection until they were provided with evidence of its existence, which they found odd.
She thought back to the strange response Contessa had to Astra when asked about her. How she had been seemingly unaware of her until confronted with her existence, the woman's face scrunching up in confusion, realizing the Path did not account for her, forcing her to build a model of the girl to correct it.
Rebecca drummed her fingers in thought. Trying to figure out what it meant.
Could Clairvoyant be wrong? She found that hard to believe. Clairvoyant's sight encompassed all worlds, and yet, the world of Terra was not one of them, so that would mean it simply did not exist, or he was somehow unable to find it. And one of the only times Clairvoyant had been unable to find something was when...
...when they had tried to locate another world with an Agent on it.
Could that be it? She wasn't sure what to believe at this point. But if it turned out to be real? Well, there were a lot of opportunities to explore in that case. For now, she'd simply have Watchdog keep an eye on the situation to see how things developed. She didn't have high hopes, but she was open to the possibility of being pleasantly surprised.
Lost in thought, the Chief Director returned to her ever-filling inbox.
A.N.
Here's my first attempt at an interlude! Feel free to tell me what you think.
I REALLY hope more elements of both worlds start to effect each other. One of my least favorite parts of Projection Quest was how little effect Taylor's power had on the world outside of Brockton Bay despite some of the projections being pure outside context problems.
I REALLY hope more elements of both worlds start to effect each other. One of my least favorite parts of Projection Quest was how little effect Taylor's power had on the world outside of Brockton Bay despite some of the projections being pure outside context problems.
It began as it usually did, which is to say, her waking up to a familiar scene: a dark fog surrounding her on all sides and the occasional flash of crimson lightning in the distance. However, this time something was different. She calmly floated in place for a while, silently marveling at the fact that she was in the dream as herself this time.
Before she could start wondering about why she was there, she felt herself being yanked deeper into the darkness, and it took her a moment to realize she was falling. Then, suddenly and without warning, she crashed into some kind of… body of water, she guessed – and was submerged in it.
Before she could panic at the thought of drowning, she passed through some kind of barrier and felt an indescribable sensation course through her. It was like stepping in a direction that didn't exist, rotating on an axis she had no context for, before being spat out someplace else.
Then, she fell through the water and was suddenly out in the open once more, her eyes widening in alarm as she hung in the air for a moment as gravity reasserted itself and inverted her trajectory, causing her to land with a loud splash on the surface of the water, bouncing lightly on impact with a grunt, although one more out of surprise rather than pain.
Taking a moment to cough the water out and regain her breath, she wiped her face and came to a stop once her vision cleared and her surroundings came into focus.
"...Really? One weird creepy dreamscape wasn't enough already? Ugh, this damn confusing power…" she grumbled under her breath as she unsteadily rose to her feet.
The dark red void she had grown used to was gone, leaving her stranded somewhere new.
Gone were the distant flashes of crimson lightning and the ever-present fog that would surround her on all sides. In their place now stood an endless, pitch black ocean gently swaying in a starless night. Across the empty sky, great auroras shone down upon the inky waves, reflecting mesmerizing patterns of blue light.
It… kind of reminded her of those rainbow colored oil stains that you'd sometimes see on the street, but in shades of blue instead of a rainbow.
She idly noticed that she was above the surface of the black ocean as well, her feet somehow not sinking and instead just letting her stand there, like a discount version of Jesus, or something.
She crouched down to inspect the surface of the water and found it solid to the touch. Standing back up, she saw the oddly dark liquid now staining her fingers in a way that normal water didn't.
Was this… ink?
As she pondered the odd sight, the stains slowly evaporated into thin air, causing her eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. She'd seen this before, hadn't she? Back when Elle tried to do something weird with her power. And… that recording of Nearl's blood sample, too. It had evaporated the exact same way, now that she thought about it.
So… what did that mean?
Well, that this weird ink thing was somehow related to her power, presumably. Maybe it was a part of it? But then again, what did ink have to do with anything? Her power was to summon Nearl and learn what she taught her, with the occasional dream vision to compliment her teachings. So how did oceans of ink and dark red fog fit into any of that? No matter how she tried looking at it, it just didn't make any sense to her.
"Well, okay then. More obscure dream nonsense it is. Yippee..." Missy said with mock enthusiasm and a dejected sigh, airing her grievances to the endless ocean around her.
"...So, now what?" she wondered aloud as she observed the admittedly beautiful yet empty landscape her power had brought her to. Looking around, she eventually spotted a glowing light in the distance, and with a shrug, simply decided to head in that direction. She had nothing better to do, after all.
As she made her way across the surface of the ocean, warily looking around in case anything decided to jump out at her, she idly spoke up once more, figuring that it couldn't hurt. "So what's it gonna be this time, power? More scary bunny girls threatening me? Some eldritch horror from the ocean trying to eat me? A metaphor for why my life sucks? God, please don't be more bunny girls…"
She wondered if growing inured to the weird dreams enough to complain at them was perhaps a sign of her declining state of mind. Was she just going crazy?
But then again, by this point she was almost certain that her power was smart or alive in some capacity; maybe it could've been pushed by her subconscious, or Nearl's, but there was only so much that could be explained away without starting to attribute some manner of directing intelligence behind whatever controlled her dreams.
Hmm… She probably ought to keep that thought to herself, or else people might start calling her crazy. She certainly didn't want any more attention than what she was already getting.
As she drew closer to the light source in the distance, small changes began to occur in the environment. Trails of ink seemed to be rising from beneath the waves to slowly mold themselves into odd shapes around her. Naturally, she freaked the hell out when she noticed this and froze in place, which… made the ink freeze as well. Huh.
She stood there for a while, wondering if she had just jinxed herself, but eventually her curiosity got the better of her and she began pacing back and forth, noticing that the ink rose and fell along with her movement, causing her to frown as she silently considered the strange behavior.
It seemed that however the shifting ink wanted to resolve itself, it would only do so as she drew closer to the light. "In for a penny…" she sighed, shaking her head in resignation before continuing to trudge forward.
As the ink continued to rise in increasingly detailed shapes, piece by piece, an image began to form. A square tile here, a pillar there, a wide door over there, until a familiar scene began to take shape as inky walls, ceilings and floors rose around her as she drew closer to the distant light.
Eventually, splashes of color began to pour into the forming structure, like brush strokes on a painting. Inky floors became tiles of polished linoleum, creepy humanoid shapes became intricately carved marble statues, frozen waterfalls of ink became hanging banners, and many other familiar exhibits slowly came to life around her, filling her with a growing sense of excitement.
Realizing what was happening, a grin split across her face and she broke into a run towards the light, accelerating the transformation of the landscape around her.
She didn't know how long she ran, but by the time she stopped, the ocean had disappeared, replaced by a memorial hall she had only seen in Nearl's memories. Well, not entirely disappeared. The sky beyond the windows was still pitch black and covered in sprawling auroras of blue light, but if anything, that only seemed to give a sort of ethereal and otherworldly beauty to the otherwise dark hall.
"...In for a pound. Wow. Okay, that looked pretty cool, I'll give you that, power," Missy admitted out loud as she looked behind her and saw the last remaining wisps of ink evaporating and finalizing the transformation of the environment, leaving her standing in a nighttime replica of the Silverlance Memorial Hall.
She never thought she'd get to see this place again, if she was being honest. Surely her power wouldn't mind if she took the chance to look around and appreciate the exhibits, right?
As she slowly, almost reverently made her way across the moonlit – auroralit? – hall and admired the many pieces on display, she belatedly realized the strangeness of that thought. Was she… weird for being excited about visiting a museum? Surely other little girls her age would be just as excited as her, right? Right. She was perfectly normal. Totally not weird or a nerd.
...Goddamnit.
Shaking the self deprecating thoughts out of her mind, Missy meandered the halls as she drew closer to the light, a rising suspicion filling her as she became pretty certain of where she was heading towards. Subtle, her power was not.
Before she knew it, she reached a large doorway with a familiar inscription above it, and sure enough, beyond that lay the source of the blinding light, now bright enough to completely obscure everything beyond the doorway.
Standing there with her hands in her pajama pockets, Missy chewed on her lip as she stared at the inscription, deep in thought. "'Neither hardship nor darkness', huh? I guess I'll give it a try," Missy mused with a light smile and crossed over the threshold, stepping into the light.
[Oh? So this is the little project you've been working on, old friend? My, my, quite ambitious, aren't we?]
…What was that?
As she stepped past the doorway, an alien sensation washed over her, leaving her mildly disoriented and with a vague, lingering feeling of having heard… something that was quickly slipping from her mind. Before she could ponder the matter any further, her attention was drawn away as the light shifted, no longer obscuring the contents of the hall.
"What the…"
Within the ancient hall stood the great statues of the knights of the Nearl family, just as she had seen them in her companion's memories. Well, not quite. The statues were almost the same, except for one small detail.
They were glowing.
Walking into the hall, Missy took in the otherworldly sight before her. The outlines of the statues were alight with an ethereal glow that softly illuminated the area around them, shedding small motes of golden light in an invisible breeze, like fireflies gently drifting through the air. From within each of the statues' chests shone a burning heart of pure radiance, slowly beating faint trails of mesmerizing light throughout their contours, almost like arteries.
However, the most striking change were the once metallic wings she'd seen in her memories, which were now made out of pure golden light, similar to– no, exactly like Nearl's wings.
And yet, what truly grabbed her attention was the source of the brightest light at the end of the hall, the same light she had been following since she woke up in this strange dream. The light coming from where the statue of Kirill Nearl stood.
Enraptured by the sight before her, like a moth to a flame, she felt compelled to reach towards that light. And so, she drew closer, her hands gently running across the effigies of Nearl's ancestors as she passed them by, strange whispers dancing at the edge of her hearing with each touch, resonating within her soul a myriad of different concepts.
Honor.
Duty.
Pride.
Devotion.
Selflessness.
Courage.
Nobility.
Each statue she touched seemed to emanate its own mix of these concepts and more. It was as if the effigies reflected upon her the very spirits of the people they represented, the very ideas they embodied.
She came to a stop as she reached the end of the hall, her gaze fixated on the statue of Nearl's grandfather, or rather, the source of the light being held in its arms. It was a spear. Nearl's spear, the Pulsar.
Blinking in surprise, Missy took a moment to consider the oddly out of place sight. Why was it here? Was she… meant to take the weapon, maybe? It felt a little disrespectful, if she was being honest. But then again, the dream had led her all the way here for this, and there didn't seem to be anything else left for her to do now that she had reached the source of the light, so…
With careful, reluctant steps, she slowly climbed the statue's pedestal and reached towards the spear, cringing slightly and muttering an apology to the statue for stepping on its toes to do so.
When her hands closed around the spear's pommel, an idea, a memory unfurled within her mind.
"Grandpa! Look, look!"
"What say you? Do you think we're ready?"
"A true knight is a shining beacon for all to see. A bright light that banishes the darkness and inspires their allies."
"Then I'll shine even brighter! So that everyone will see me!"
"Tell me, why do you wish to be a knight?"
As her mind cleared, she was left reeling, her foot slipping and almost causing her to fall off her perch if it weren't for a pair of strong arms that gently caught her.
Blinking in confusion, Missy looked upwards, her gaze following the arms back to their owner until she found herself meeting the glowing eyes of Nearl's grandfather, looking at her with amusement.
Naturally, as one is wont to do, she reacted the same way any sane person would when confronted with a dead man.
"WAAAAAAHHHHH!!" she screamed as she flung herself away from the goddamn ghost with all of her might, roughly landing with a jarring impact that drove the air from her lungs as Nearl's weapon clattered on the floor next to her.
Shaking herself from her shock, she quickly pushed herself off the ground and looked upwards, rooted on the spot by what she saw. From its perch atop the pedestal, the marble statue was laughing, its head reared back in a painfully familiar way as boisterous laughter seemed to echo and resonate from it.
"W-what– what the hell?!" Missy exclaimed, quickly scrambling to grab the spear and holding it defensively in front of her with shaky hands, unable to comprehend the scene before her.
At that, the statue– no, the old man fully turned towards her with a fierce smile full of mirth and pride and life as he thumped his own radiant heart in a knight's salute, before extending his fist towards her and raising a thumb in approval.
Missy just stared, feeling completely dumbfounded and overwhelmed. "G-grandpa Kirill? How– Wha–!" she tried to say, before flinching as the spear in her hands began to shine brilliantly, illuminating the dark hall until her entire vision was filled with blinding light, and then…
"Wait! Don't go!" she exclaimed with a gasp, bolting upright in her bed and desperately reaching out with her hand, adrenaline coursing through her system as she abruptly woke up.
Belatedly, she noticed Nearl's head snap upwards in response to her sudden awakening, dropping the notebook she had been writing on and rising from her seat on the side of the room by the window.
"Missy? What's wro–" her companion tried to ask in concern, but was cut off as several things seemed to happen in quick succession.
Without warning, the Kuranta's spear began shining brightly, seemingly of its own volition. Nearl's eyes widened in shock as she felt a foreign, yet familiar presence take hold of it, making her stumble and trip as her weapon was suddenly and violently ripped from her by an outside force and shot off directly towards Missy. These weren't her Arts, they were…!
Despite being shocked, Nearl swiftly raised a hand and created a barrier before she could fall, attempting to protect her apprentice.
However, almost as if mocking her, and defying any notion of common sense or logic, the weapon rippled strangely before splitting in two in a small shower of black ink, both halves flying off from each other and embedding themselves deep into the wall behind Missy, less than an inch away from the edges of Nearl's impromptu barrier.
Frozen on the spot, the girl looked in incomprehension at what had just taken place, her wide-eyed gaze slowly turning towards the two glowing spears embedded in the wall.
A shiver ran down her spine and a foreign sensation coursed through her as she stared at the glowing weapons. It was akin to what she had felt in the dream when she touched those statues; brief impressions of foreign ideas and concepts running through her mind.
It felt as if the glowing light somehow radiated a sense of pride and approval. Just as she realized this, she felt an invisible wind ruffle her hair affectionately and saw the weapon's glow beginning to dim and fade away along with the ink stains on her bed.
Distantly, she could've sworn she heard the faint echoes of an old man's raucous cackles, right at the edge of her hearing, before that, too, faded as well, plunging the room into a dead silence.
The two of them stood in the now quiet room. Missy sitting wide-eyed on her bed and Nearl laying on the ground with a stunned expression, both of them far too bewildered to say anything. Eventually however, her companion broke the silence by uttering a single choked word full of disbelief.
"...Grandfather?"
Feeling just as shaken and confused as her mentor, Missy asked the only thing she could think of in response.
"What… What the hell just happened?"
"Hmm…"
Missy anxiously stood off to the side of the room a few minutes later, shifting uncomfortably on her feet as her mentor silently inspected her weapon with a careful eye, having removed it from the wall after recovering from her shock a few minutes ago. The only indicator of the Kuranta's current mood being small movements of her lips and the occasional thoughtful hum that escaped past them.
"Uhh… Nearl?"
Unfortunately for her, Nearl continued to ignore her in favor of whatever she seemed to be focusing on. Eventually, she laid her weapon down on the bed and cautiously approached the second spear embedded in the wall.
After examining the impossible weapon with narrowed eyes, she reached out and began to slowly pull it free from the wall, small bits of plaster and dust raining down as she did so.
Missy would have to get that wall fixed somehow, wouldn't she? Explaining how that happened… might be a problem.
Silently, Nearl turned to face her as she held the second sword-spear in her hands with a thoughtful and mildly concerned expression. And now that she could get a proper look at it, she noticed how the second spear was an exact replica of the Pulsar, but it seemed to be slightly smaller. Shorter. Almost as if it was made for someone much more…
Missy blinked in surprise, no doubt noticing as well. "Is that one for…?" she pointed at the suspiciously Missy-sized weapon, but trailed off as Nearl finally turned her gaze towards her.
Narrowing her eyes, the Kuranta's gaze shifted between her and the weapon a few times as she held it at different angles and tested its balance, seemingly debating something in her mind, before eventually setting it down on the bed as well and letting out a tired sigh. She herself followed soon after and sat at the edge of the mattress, silently rubbing her temples with a weary expression.
"I give up," the Kuranta finally said, her head tilting upwards as if seeking strength from the heavens.
"...Huh?" Missy blurted in confusion.
"This ability of yours, and all these new… things. I just don't get it. There should be some sort of common physical mechanism, whether it's Arts or a parahuman ability, but I just can't think of one. It's so…" Nearl trailed off with a helpless gesture of her hands and a frustrated expression, before letting her arms drop, the strength to hold them up leaving her.
The Kuranta looked down at the floor with a worried and uncertain expression. Missy had never seen her companion look so… lost before. A moment later, she realized the reason why as Nearl hesitatingly uttered a question, so quiet she could have almost missed it. "...You felt him too, didn't you?"
Missy immediately knew what she meant, and started worrying about how she was even gonna start explaining herself. Gulping nervously, she answered. "Y-yeah. He… he was there too, in the dream."
At that, Nearl turned a questioning look towards her, prompting her to explain. "I… I was in the memorial hall, it was… different. It wasn't a memory, I was there, wherever that was. I walked around and there was a light that led me to his statue. He was holding the spear. And glowing. All of the statues were glowing, but when I touched the spear, his statue moved. Came to life. Scared the hell outta me, too," she ruefully admitted.
"He certainly seemed to find it funny. Laughed just like he used to whenever he'd catch you do something silly, you know how," at that, her smile turned reminiscent, almost melancholic, and upon seeing that, Nearl came to the startling realization that this little girl had quietly grown to know her nearly as well as her own sister did.
For Missy to experience all of her childhood the way she had, she might as well have been there right alongside Nearl as she grew up, like an invisible second sister she never noticed, but that had been there all along, silently watching. Listening. Learning.
It was… a disconcerting realization, Nearl thought. And yet not something that Missy could be blamed for, as that aspect of her ability seemed to be entirely beyond her control. But even then… just who was this little girl, to wield such an uncanny ability?
Unaware of her companion's internal turmoil, Missy continued. "Then he… he saluted me. Gave me a thumbs up and one of his big, goofy smirks, like I'd passed one of his stupid tests. Then the spear started glowing and I… woke up…"
The two of them fell into an uncertain silence as she trailed off with a grimace, refusing to meet her mentor's eyes in fear of how she might respond.
Silently, Nearl stood and approached her, before kneeling and gently enveloping her in a hug. "Thank you, Missy," she uttered with a sigh.
"But– I thought–" the girl blurted in confusion, before she was interrupted by her mentor.
"That I'd be angry? No, not with you. Never with you. I may not understand what's going on with this ability of yours, but… I am nonetheless grateful for it. You've given me something I never thought I'd have. To be able to hear his voice again…" Nearl trailed off as she stared into the distance, her mind in a distant place.
Missy blinked in confusion. "Hear his voice…?"
At that, Nearl frowned, her lips pursed in thought. "Perhaps… it is better if we keep what just happened here to ourselves," she mused. "Telling others about this will only bring us unnecessary trouble."
"Okay, sure. But wait, back up a bit. What do you mean by 'hear him'?" Missy asked again.
The Kuranta shook her head, standing up and moving to retrieve her fallen notebook and both weapons, seemingly ignoring her.
"Nearl, c'mon! What did you mean by that? Did you actually hear him say something?" The girl insisted.
"I… would rather not talk about it," the Kuranta replied after a pause, before turning to leave the room.
Missy stared, incredulous. "What? Are we just gonna ignore the fact that my power can seemingly commute with the dea–"
"Yes," Nearl interrupted her, the Kuranta's serious tone immediately shutting her up.
Noticing the girl's apprehensive expression, Nearl sighed wearily and explained. "Sorry, it's fine. I just… need some time to process this, that's all. But I'd rather not talk about it for now. I would really appreciate it if you didn't bring this up with the others as well."
"...Oh, okay," the girl agreed upon noticing her mentor's discomfort. "So uhh, about that extra spear you have there…" she leadingly said, trying to change the subject.
Nearl turned towards her with a raised eyebrow. "Yes?"
"Well, y'know, I couldn't help but notice that it's kinda perfect for someone my size, don't you think?" she asked with big puppy eyes and a simpering pout, arms behind her back as she bashfully scuffed her foot against the floor.
"Hmm. Yes, I suppose it is," Nearl mused with an exaggerated thoughtful look, feigning ignorance.
"Yeah, exactly!" Missy was quick to agree, striking her first into her palm, glad that her companion understood her meaning.
And in response, Nearl did… nothing. The two of them just… stood there, staring at each other. Nearl remaining perfectly placid and calm while her apprentice's expression slowly grew strained and awkward as the silence stretched on.
"So… ahh, c-can I have it?" the girl eventually caved in and asked.
Nearl smiled warmly in response. "No."
Missy sputtered in surprise and indignation. "Buh– Wha–?! Why not?!"
And in response, Nearl asked her in a very deadpan tone. "Do you know how to use a spear? Or a sword? Or any kind of weapon in general?"
Well, with an argument like that, there wasn't much she could say in response, was there?! Other than fume silently, that is.
The Kuranta huffed in amusement at her reaction. "If you want that weapon, you'll first have to learn how to use it. I'm not about to let you get injured due to negligence," she explained and ruffled the girl's hair, causing her to snap out of her stupefaction to swat the hand away with a sullen pout.
"But now is not the time for that. Go wash up and get changed, we've got a busy day ahead of us," were Nearl's departing words before she left the room, no doubt to store the weapon somewhere Missy couldn't easily reach.
…She was gonna put it on a high shelf, wasn't she?
Missy just grumbled at the injustice of it all. Seriously? Her power gives her an incredibly cool weapon, and she's not even allowed to use it? Man, that's just some bull…
"Oh, hi! You're here early!" Vicky greeted them excitedly as she opened the door for them, the two of them having gone through their usual morning routine before heading to the Dallon residence.
Carol briefly poked her head from the kitchen. "Come on in, though we're not quite all freshened up yet. Amy is still in the shower, I believe."
The woman gave her daughter a pointed look at that, which Missy took to mean there was a reason for the delayed routine– and that reason's name was Vicky, if the teen's sheepish look was any indication.
"Have a seat," Carol voiced as she finished storing some leftover food from the previous day's festivities. "So, what exactly did you have in mind for today? You said something about brute testing?"
Nearl spoke up first, no sign of her earlier uneasiness from this morning left. She had either already come to terms with it, or was surprisingly good at hiding it.
"My intent was to help Missy obtain a better grasp of her own strength. She's still getting used to her newfound capabilities, and hasn't properly tested her limits or how to restrict herself. Victoria here offered to help out by… being the target, I suppose. I must confess, I still find it strange that someone can just be invulnerable like she claims," the Kuranta stated.
Victoria fidgeted in place at that and glanced at her mother, who sighed in response.
Mrs. Dallon hesitated for a moment, but explained the situation to the two in a whisper. "We really don't want this to be public information, but she's not actually invulnerable. She has a forcefield that so far has stopped any one hit, no matter the strength, but after taking that hit, it briefly goes down."
"We'll keep our mouths shut," Missy easily agreed with a nod and a zipping motion.
Mrs. Dallon raised an eyebrow at the gesture. "Well, if Victoria doesn't mind being used as a punching bag, I suppose it's fine. Just… be careful about it. If you think she helped, I might even let up on her grounding."
Missy noticed Vicky perking up at that.
"A little," Carol quickly corrected, causing her daughter to pout.
Nearl raised a finger, gesturing for the woman's attention. "Actually, I was thinking of getting started on Missy's Arts lessons before we did that. If you don't mind, I would like to ask for Amy's assistance on the matter and have her on standby just in case, since mistakes on Missy's part, however unlikely, could lead to injuries."
Carol frowned and made to reply, but was interrupted by Amy shambling into the room right then, looking half dead on her feet and overall spiteful at existence in general.
"Fine. Just let me get my coffee first," the healer said in way of greeting, already looking exhausted despite waking up not ten minutes ago.
"Okay, so how do you wanna do this? I was gonna go to the hospital, but I guess I can spare an hour or two," Amy said as she tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes. Although Carol had opted to stay inside to deal with some office work, Vicky followed behind them as they went out into their very large backyard.
Seriously, the Dallons' backyard was almost as big as Missy's entire house. She found it almost excessive. At least it served them well as an impromptu training space, and the high wooden fence would keep away any unwanted eyes.
"Truth be told, you won't actually have to do much of anything unless Missy gets injured. You can just sit back and watch, if you'd prefer," Nearl replied, before frowning in concern and approaching the healer. "Although I suspect you'd be better served simply taking a nap. Are you feeling well?"
The older girl put up a token amount of resistance at Nearl's attempts to fuss over her, but the fight quickly left her once the Kuranta brought a hand to her face and carefully tilted it around, narrowing her eyes as she examined her, much to the healer's chagrin. Yet oddly enough, Amy seemed almost… happy to be fussed over, which Missy found strange.
Missy could understand the desire to let a kind stranger barge into your life and basically adopt you, if it came from someone like herself, whose previous home situation was rather… poor, to say the least. But that kind of response coming from someone like Amy? Someone with a big, well-off and loving family with a good reputation? That seemed… off to her. Maybe she should start paying more attention to the healer, just to make sure she's okay.
And speaking of not being okay, now that they were out in the sun, Amy's deep eyebags and paler-than-usual complexion became very apparent, which was no doubt the reason for Nearl's concern. Something that also became very apparent was the healer's rapidly reddening face.
Averting her eyes in embarrassment, Amy replied with surprising honesty. "I… I guess not. Didn't get much sleep last night. The gangs have been acting up now that the Empire is weaker. There were several skirmishes and shootouts last night, so I got called in to deal with a bunch of emergencies at the hospital. You know how it is," she explained with a helpless shrug, which only caused the Kuranta's frown to deepen as she filed that piece of information away for later.
"Amy, we've talked about this. You should know better than to push yourself so harshly with volunteer work. You could've just as easily let the doctors do their work and headed there in the morning," Nearl chided with a sigh, her hands lighting up as she activated her Arts.
"I–I know, okay? But I can't. I have to. I'm the only– err, one of the only healers in the city. If I'm not there, people die. I can't just…" Amy trailed off, slumping and sighing in relief as the soft glow of Nearl's Arts fully enveloped her, easing her aches and reinvigorating her.
Seeing a crack in the normally stubborn girl's composure, Nearl pressed on and gently said. "There are plenty of other healers in the city, Amy. Hard working men and women who sacrificed years of their lives to become doctors. Just because you have powers to make it easier doesn't invalidate their work or mean you have to heal every single patient for them. No matter how hard you try, people will continue to die. That is simply the way things are."
Taking a moment to let her process that, Nearl took a deep breath and met the seemingly spellbound girl with a compassionate gaze. "While your intentions are noble and admirable, something truly commendable that any good hero should strive for, you are pushing yourself far too much for it to be healthy or sustainable. You need to ration your shifts and learn to differentiate between what is urgent and requires your attention, and what you can leave to the doctors, otherwise you will end up burning out in no time. It's not bad to be a little selfish, you know? In fact, I would say it is necessary, especially in your case."
"What do you mean?" the healer asked with an oddly shaken tone as Nearl surreptitiously guided her towards one of the lawn chairs under the backyard's porch and forced her to sit down. Amy glared at her upon noticing, yet complied nonetheless.
The Kuranta eyed her for a moment longer before explaining. "Think of your work as a marathon instead of a sprint; if you tire yourself out too early, you'll never make it to the finish line. In the same vein, if you're too exhausted to even be awake, you won't be able to help anyone. If you don't take care of yourself, you will only end up hurting the very people you are trying to help. Do you understand?"
"I–I guess so," Amy hesitatingly said, which only caused Nearl to stare at her in something that Missy had dubbed as The Look until she inevitably caved in. "Fine! I understand, okay?! Geez..."
Truly, the power of The Look could not be underestimated. How Nearl managed to cram such an intense amount of parental disappointment into a single expression was a mystery to her. It was practically a power in its own right.
"Good. Then stay there and rest," the Kuranta ordered, crossing her arms and pining the girl with a much less stern gaze.
And surprisingly so, the healer complied, albeit with no small amount of grumbling. "Fine…"
Nodding to herself and turning around, Nearl was met by the sight of Missy and Vicky staring at her incredulously.
"What?" she asked with a tilt of her head as she approached them.
"You– Wha– How did you do that?! Amy never listens when we tell her to take a break!" Victoria exclaimed, somewhat stupefied at seeing Amy actually stand down for once.
Nearl hummed in thought, before smiling. "Ah, well, I suppose I know a thing or two about talking down stubborn people."
Missy giggled as Vicky frowned in confusion, not getting what she meant.
Not wanting her new teammate to feel left out, Missy explained with amusement. "Nearl works for a pharmaceutical company dedicated to finding a cure for an incurable disease in a world where healing powers are common. And both of her best friends are healers as well. If anyone knows how to wrangle stubborn healers around, it's probably her."
"I'm still right here, you know?!" Amy indignantly called out from the lawn chair, still perfectly within hearing range.
Missy stuck her tongue out in response as Vicky let out a noise of realization. "Ohhhhh! That makes sense."
The older girl eyed the Kuranta in curiosity. "Y'know, now I'm really curious about what your home is like. It sounds fascinating!"
Nearl shook her head with a light smile. "We can discuss my home at a later time. For now, Missy has some practice to do. You can stay and watch, if you'd like?"
Vicky nodded excitedly in response. "Of course! How could I miss a chance to see someone learning superpowers?"
The Kuranta dipped her head in acknowledgement, and soon enough, Missy found herself sitting cross-legged across her mentor, the two of them laying on a blanket in the middle of the backyard as they went through the same breathing and meditation exercises she had been taught the previous day.
Solemnly, her mentor intoned with closed eyes and a serene expression, her words carrying the weight of a well-worn speech. "Within each of us lies great radiance; an ancient legacy that flows through our veins. By our hand, the darkness of our world is vanquished, and by our will, the light shall spread across the land. A beacon that shines forth with the beating of our hearts, this is the Art of the Nearl family."
Opening her eyes, the Kuranta regarded her student with a smile. "Or at least, that's how grandfather explained it to me when I began my lessons. But for now, we can do away with the ceremony and tradition. Simply focus on getting a feeling for the light within you. Maria once described it as trying to feel sunlight pumping through your veins, which is an apt way to put it."
A few meters away, right at the edge of what Nearl had established as "safe distance", Victoria scribbled notes on a small booklet while she sat on empty air, floating six feet above the ground. Further back, Amy was softly snoring under the porch, having long since fallen asleep in the lawn chair.
Missy nodded and simply did as instructed, and sure enough… all that mystic nonsense didn't help her one bit.
Thankfully, Maria's description helped a lot more. She focused her attention inward, imagining sunlight inside of her much like her friend's sister once did.
After some time, she could feel a certain warmth that was hard to put into words coursing through her body, an untapped potential awaiting her command. The more she became aware of this warmth, the easier it became to sense, like a sleeping limb slowly regained feeling.
Strangely enough, however, now that she was paying close attention, she became aware of other unique sensations within her. She could feel something coming from her connection with Nearl, something she could… shift, if only she reached out to her and focused. And beyond that, another sensation far off in the distance, coming from… south east?
It felt reminiscent of her dream, of a bundle of concepts and ideas she simply knew she could reach with but a thought. But… no, now wasn't the time. She could come back to this later.
Dismissing the distracting sensations for now and opening her eyes, Missy met her mentor's gaze and nodded. "Got it," she uttered softly in response, feeling oddly solemn about the whole ordeal.
Nearl stared at her in contemplation, before shaking her head with a smile. "As I thought. Even for something like this… No matter. Now, we'll talk about how to draw out your light. Normally this would require at least a wand or other channeling medium, but even if you have no need for one the principle is the same. Originium Arts is about causing changes in the world around you according to how you understand they should happen. While this means for some they have to read physics textbooks just to throw a simple fireball, this light inside you gives some leeway. Think more abstractly, on the light of your own ideals illuminating the world and others around you."
Missy nodded, thinking of how she felt under Nearl's light. How it embodied everything she told her grandfather, and thinking then on her own answer. As she followed her mentor's instructions, Missy began to understand how to pull out her inner light, becoming more proficient at it by the minute.
First, she learned how to simply let her light out and glow. She found she could alter the light's brightness and go from being barely noticeable out in the open, all the way up to becoming a very bright lightbulb. She would never be scared of being in the dark again, that was for certain.
Now, if only Victoria could stop squeeing and calling her adorable, that'd be great. It didn't help that Nearl was also struggling to suppress an amused smile as well. Ugh…
Next, the Kuranta told her to attempt moving her light beyond herself. And after some trial and error, she ended up creating a somewhat transparent golden nebula that floated in the air. She played around with it for a while, having fun making the little golden cloud slowly drift around her. Although just like a cloud, it seemed to be immaterial, simply dispersing whenever she tried touching it.
After that, she progressed onto actually shaping the light and making it solid, which took a lot more focus and concentration out of her. She came to understand that the underlying basis of Arts was about one's own cognition, one's imagination and sort of… willing the effect into reality. If one squints hard enough, it was basically rejecting reality and replacing it with her own, on a really small degree.
Still, despite understanding this, it was still immensely difficult to put into practice. She felt like a certain mindset was required for Arts to be most effective, one she didn't quite have, not yet.
In the end, after a lot of practice and advice from her mentor, Missy was able to create constructs that were solid to the touch. She discovered that simple shapes like flat panes and spheres came the easiest to her, and after some pleading with Nearl to let her try, she found herself sitting atop a semi-transparent platform as she juggled tennis ball-sized golden orbs of solid light in her hands, feeling completely engrossed in the little impromptu exercise she came up with.
Slowly picking up speed, the girl created and added more spheres to juggle, increasing the difficulty of the exercise and overall having a lot of fun. Said fun came to an end, however, when she miscalculated a throw and ended up smacking herself in the face with one of the golden tennis balls.
Upon impact, the ball popped with a flash of light that blinded her, breaking her focus and disrupting all of her other constructs, which caused her to fall back onto the grass with an undignified squawk of surprise.
Blinking spots from her vision, she found Nearl standing over her with a worried expression while Victoria laughed in the background, clutching her stomach and practically rolling in the air from how hard she was laughing.
"Are you okay?" her mentor asked her with a small frown, ignoring Victoria's antics.
"Y-Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, just got startled and lost focus," Missy sheepishly apologized.
"The hell is going on with all the ruckus?" an irritated Amy asked as she approached them, having woken up from her nap by her sister's loud laugh.
"Sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't– Snrk–" Vicky apologized, trying – and failing – to contain her laughter.
"Just a little training accident. Can you check to see if she's okay?" Nearl asked the healer, gesturing towards Missy.
Amy pursed her lips in response and simply reached out towards the girl. "Hm… She's perfectly fine. Nothing out of the ordinary besides a slightly higher than usual body temperature. Drink some water, will you?"
Missy pouted at that. "Okay, okay…" she grumbled.
"Oh my God, Ames, you should've seen it! It was great! I got it on my phone, here, look– WHOA!" Vicky tried to approach her sister before she was forced to dodge as a very annoyed Missy suddenly started viciously pelting her with golden orbs of light and charging straight towards her.
"No recordings! I'm tired of people recording me!" the girl angrily shouted as she leapt towards the phone with the ferocity of a pouncing tiger.
Vicky simply laughed and flew away, the smaller girl chasing after her all over the backyard and trying to nail her with golden tennis balls.
Amy watched this with the detached air of someone used to witnessing such shenanigans. "So… that's new," she idly commented, observing how the little girl casually wielded a power she didn't even have an hour ago.
The Kuranta nodded in agreement, watching Victoria hover in place as she taunted and made silly faces at her apprentice, before the younger girl had enough of it and stopped in place.
Her face scrunched up in an expression of intense concentration as she created another tennis ball and then proceeded to stretch it out like dough until she was left holding a large, golden club. Vicky paled as the little girl's expression turned particularly vicious, and the chase began anew.
Nearl chuckled ruefully at their antics. "Little Missy is quite the fast learner, it seems."
"Uh-huh. You don't say," Amy sarcastically replied, absentmindedly pulling out her phone as her sister stopped pretending to be scared and hovered in the air out of Missy's reach, fists planted on her hips with a triumphant expression despite being relentlessly pelted by glowing tennis balls, seemingly to no effect.
"Sorry, kiddo, but you'll never break my shield if your hits don't pack enough of a punch!" the flier boasted, tanking the younger girl's projectiles head-on while striking a superhero pose.
The sight made her feel inordinately awed by the blonde, which… was probably due to her stupid aura thing, now that she thought about it. Somehow, knowing that only made her more incensed as a result, if anything. She refused to be influenced by a goddamn shaker effect. Refused!
Stomping petulantly in response, Missy shouted. "Shut up! Delete that video already and stop doing that! Or I'll… I'll kick your ass!"
"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try! Come on, hit me with your best shot!" Victoria smiled widely and spread her arms in response, taunting her. They had been training for over an hour already, and she was here to help the girl test her strength anyways, so she figured some encouragement wouldn't do her any harm.
The girl angrily reared her arms back and pitched two tennis balls in quick succession, nailing the flier straight in the forehead twice, yet seemingly still to no effect whatsoever. It seemed that the forcefield would not break if the attack wasn't strong enough.
Victoria grinned smugly in response. "Is that all? Come on, I didn't even feel that!"
Gritting her teeth in frustration, Missy racked her brain trying to come up with a better way to go about breaking that damn forcefield, before stopping in place as an idea came to her. If she needed more strength…
From her position off to the side, Nearl watched her apprentice once again create a plain club in one hand, giving it a couple practice swings, before creating another ball in the other. However, she could tell she had done something different with the ball this time, as it took her longer to make, resulting in a much brighter and slightly larger sphere, about the size of a baseball.
Planting her feet firmly on the ground and widening her stance, Missy threw the ball upwards and batted at it, employing all of her might in the swing.
As the ball shot off like a missile straight towards Victoria, Missy didn't remain idle. Taking off into a sprint, the younger girl used her inherited might to leap right after the ball, quickly closing the distance between herself and the flier, squeezing her eyes shut and hiding them behind the crook of her elbow as she rapidly approached, preparing for what was about to come.
Nailing her straight in the face with the baseball, this time Victoria's head actually recoiled from the hit, the maneuver seemingly strong enough to finally pop her shield.
"Hah! Now that's more like i– AAUGH!" the flier began to congratulate, but was interrupted when the golden baseball detonated in a blinding flash of light immediately after bouncing off her forehead, causing her to shriek in pain as she was temporarily blinded, her hands flying towards her eyes.
And then Missy was right in front of her.
Planting her feet against a golden platform in mid-air, the little girl brutally swung her bat at the flier's lower torso, folding her in half as the air was forcefully driven from her lungs and sending her shooting off towards the ground as Missy directed her swing downwards.
As Victoria crashed into the backyard in a small explosion of dirt, Missy took a moment to survey her loot, namely, the phone she had snatched out of Victoria's hand before she fell. Navigating the menus to find the accursed video and deleting it, the girl nodded to herself and dismissed her platform, allowing herself to fall.
Gracefully landing next to the flier, she dismissed her golden club as well and threw her phone back at her, before addressing her defeated opponent.
"Told ya I'd kick your ass for that," the little girl disdainfully harrumphed and then proceeded to do exactly as she had promised.
Victoria groaned in response, painfully clutching at her bruised stomach as the kick to her rump flipped her over the dirt, her phone ignored off to the side.
"Well, damn. That's one way to shut her up," Amy commented in a surprised and slightly awed tone as she put her phone away and approached her fallen sister to place a hand on her, still blinking some leftover spots in her vision as she did. Thankfully, Nearl had acted quickly and shielded the healer's vision before she could have been blinded as well.
"Indeed. I must say I'm impressed, Missy. For you to already be developing your own unique Arts applications is quite commendable. Although your execution was perhaps a little excessive," her mentor praised and chided in equal measure, before turning towards the fallen flier with an almost nostalgic expression at the sight of the Victoria-shaped crater in the dirt, no doubt thinking back on her own training.
"Amyyyyyyyy…" the defeated girl groaned.
"Don't you 'Amy' me, you dumbass. This is your own fault for taunting her. Now hold still," the healer scolded her sister as she mended her bruised abdomen and reddened eyes, her forcefield having thankfully tanked the fall and prevented her from being damaged any further.
"Oww… not fair! You caught me off guard!" Victoria complained as she sat up, her wounds being mended as she did.
Missy regarded her with a deadpan look. "That's your own problem, not mine. Maybe you shouldn't leave yourself open like that next time."
"She's got you there, sis. You kinda deserved that one," Amy agreed, her shoulders shaking with poorly suppressed mirth.
The flier groaned in frustration at that, before eyeing the girl as if seeing her for the first time. "Goddamn, girlie. Where'd that spine and all that sass come from? I swear you were all shy and nervous last time I saw you."
The little girl snorted in response. "I grew up," she replied without elaborating, turning towards her mentor as Victoria shot her a confused look. "By the way, what did you mean by unique application, Nearl? I only really used your power back there."
The Kuranta raised an eyebrow at her. "Is that what you think? Could you do that platform trick again, then?"
"Uhm, sure?" the girl complied with some confusion audible in her voice, creating a small platform in mid-air and climbing on top of it. This left her standing almost at eye level with her mentor.
Her mentor eyed the platform with curiosity, before turning towards her with an almost amused expression. "Missy… you are aware I'm not able to do that, right?"
"Huh?" the girl blurted out, her previous line of thought grinding to a halt.
Nearl stared at her for a moment longer, before simply creating a small platform in front of her and stepping on it to demonstrate.
The platform sank.
Missy stared at it in stunned silence, before her mentor explained. "Arts are an expression of the user, Missy. And while there is a certain degree of overlap in techniques, especially in bloodline Arts like ours, at the end of the day, certain expressions of them will be completely unique to you."
Missy tried to come up with something to say to that, but only came up blank. This was… her own technique? The thought of being able to do something with Nearl's power that even the Kuranta herself couldn't do left her feeling almost lightheaded. And it came so easily as well, too! She didn't even have to think about it! She simply assumed she could do it, and so she did.
Thankfully, Victoria filled in for her, since she was too busy mentally rebooting. "Wouldn't that mean that Missy is actually using Arts, instead of just copying your abilities with her power?"
The Kuranta nodded in response. "An insightful question. Indeed, I suspected it would be something like this. Since she seems perfectly capable of developing her Arts on her own like any other user can, this would make her an actual Arts user herself."
"What the fuck? You can't just give yourself new powers, that's not how it works at all!" Amy blurted, throwing her hands up in frustration.
"Well, I mean, not parahuman powers. Nobody said anything about Terran powers, sis. Whatever gives them their powers is probably different from what we have. Weren't you the one that said Missy shouldn't even have powers since she doesn't have a corona in the first place?" Victoria chimed in, once again demonstrating a surprising amount of insight, which caused her sister to slump in defeat and begin muttering about nonsensical powers.
Nearl chuckled at the healer's reaction, having had similar thoughts about her student's abilities just this morning. "It's nothing so simple as 'giving yourself new powers', I assure you. Developing one's own Arts is no easy feat, as there are several defining factors involved. Talent, life experience, visualization, creativity and even personality are some of the core factors that heavily influence how a person's Arts might develop. Certain types of people will be more predisposed to developing certain types of abilities, while others will be incapable of such. For example, despite healing being a common ability within my family's Arts, not everyone is capable of doing it, while others excel at it."
"Your grand aunt!" Missy exclaimed in realization, which caused the Dallon sisters to shoot her confused looks.
Nearl smiled warmly in response, before turning towards the confused pair to elaborate. "Indeed, my late great grand aunt Solia is a good example of this. She was a very kind and selfless woman, and her Arts were practically a reflection of her character. She was the strongest healer in the entire history of our family; her Arts could mend grievous wounds in seconds, and all that it took was for the injured person to be exposed to her light, while in contrast, my grandfather and I could only ever heal injuries with a touch, and my uncle is unable to heal at all."
"She could heal people at range?" Amy asked, incredulous.
"Oh, quite more than that, in fact. Grandfather would often regale us with tales of her deeds, back when I was younger. One of her preferred methods of healing was to find the highest perch on an open camp and then simply shine like the sun. Within the hour, not a single injury would remain across the hundreds, sometimes even thousands of people in the camps she visited. She was known as the Grace of Kazimierz for a reason, after all," the Kuranta explained, enjoying the utterly gobsmacked expression on the healer's face.
"...Isn't Kazimierz the name of your home country?" Victoria asked, wide-eyed.
Nearl nodded with a smile as Missy chimed in with some amusement. "Nearl's family is kind of a big deal over there."
"Ah, makes sense. That explains why she's all, y'know…" Victoria said with a helpless gesture towards the imposing woman.
"All what?" the Kuranta in question cluelessly asked with a raised eyebrow.
"No, no, I get what you mean. And yeah, her whole family is kinda like that," Missy nodded in agreement, immediately understanding.
"I'm sorry, is there something I'm missing here?" Nearl asked with some bemusement.
Missy turned towards her and sheepishly explained. "You guys just have this sort of… presence, I guess. All noble and heroic and larger than life and such. Honestly, talking to you sometimes feels like what I imagine talking to Legend or Alexandria would be like."
Victoria snapped her fingers and pointed at her in agreement. "Exactly! You give off the same sort of vibes as the Triumvirate! And I'm saying this as someone who's personally met Alexandria, you know? Well, you're more approachable than her, at least, so I guess you'd be closer to Legend."
Missy's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You met Alexandria?"
Victoria nodded in reply. "Yeah. I've been to a few Endbringer fights before, and because I'm such a strong brute, I always get assigned to the squad she directly coordinates."
"As interesting as this all is, would anyone care to explain why there's a crater in the backyard?" Carol spoke up then, frowning as she stood behind the Dallon sisters with her arms crossed.
Victoria jumped a whole foot off the ground and turned to stare in surprise at her mother. "Oh, hi mom! Well, you see, uhhhh…"
"It was her fault," Amy immediately ratted her out.
"Amy!" Victoria exclaimed in indignation, whirling towards her.
"She kept taunting Missy and asking her to hit her, so Missy basically punted her into the dirt. It's her own fault, she deserved it," the healer mercilessly continued, ignoring her sister's dismayed expression.
Carol stared at Amy for a moment, before turning towards Victoria with a very stern expression and asking. "Are you trying to get grounded again?"
"N-No…" the flier flinched at her mother's tone, averting her gaze.
"Then go get the shovel from the shed and clean up this mess," Carol ordered.
Victoria slumped in response. "Okay, mom…"
As the flier dejectedly floated away, Carol turned to address Missy. "In any case, your cell phone was ringing earlier, so I thought I'd let you know," she said as she handed her the device.
Missy perked up as she accepted it with a quiet thanks and checked her messages. "Oh! I got a message from… Mr Hawthorne…" she trailed off uneasily.
"It's… about the funeral," she said in a subdued tone as she read the message from the lawyer.
Carol nodded in understanding as Nearl placed a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder "Ah, I see. I have been in talks with the man for a few days now. It's scheduled for 1 PM tomorrow. Don't worry, we will be there with you as well."
Missy paused as the woman's words registered. "You're… going too?" she asked with an uncertain and confused tone.
Carol nodded resolutely. "Of course. You are part of New Wave. It would be in very poor form if we did not support one of our members as they were going through difficult times, after all."
"Yeah! Teammates have to stick together, you know? Of course we'll have your back!" Victoria exclaimed in agreement as she finally returned, shovel in hand.
Amy snorted and gave the girl a lazy thumbs up as well, before turning towards her sister. "Saying those words while holding a shovel kinda makes it sound like we're covering up a murder for her, Vic. But yeah, we'll be there."
A surprised bark of laughter escaped past the young girl's lips as Carol frowned reproachfully at her daughters, before Missy smiled at them with appreciation, feeling oddly touched by the gesture. "Thanks, guys…"
After Victoria finished cleaning up the crater in the backyard with a little help from Missy – since she was feeling a little merciful – they continued to spar for some time to help Missy learn how to control and restrain her strength and avoid inflicting grievous injuries on weaker opponents.
In the meantime, Amy went back to nap on the reclining lawn chair while Nearl and Carol looked over them and quietly discussed boring adult topics. Team training exercises, patrol schedules, and the upcoming PRT press release about their victory over the Empire, and some other things Missy couldn't be bothered to remember at the time, as she was too busy trying to gently beat up Victoria, which as one could imagine, was really difficult.
But in the end, after another hour of training at the Dallons', it was time for her and Nearl to head back home.
As they were roof-hopping their way back, Missy's phone rang. Whipping it out, she found a message from Elle waiting for her.
L: hi
L: do you wanna hang out later?
"Hey Nearl! Wait up a sec!" the girl called out to her mentor as she paused atop an apartment rooftop so she could write a reply to her friend.
Missy: Sure. Like last time?
L: yes
L: but maybe
Missy: Maybe…?
L: nvm
Missy: What? What does that mean?
L: nevermind
Missy: No, seriously, what does that mean???
L: just come over at 6 pm
L: Mel said you can come in through the back
"Something wrong?" Nearl asked as she approached.
"Nah, Elle just messaged me. Said she wants to hang out later," Missy explained as she typed, before pausing with a thoughtful expression. "Do we know anyone named Mel?"
The Kuranta tilted her head curiously at the non-sequitur. "Not to my knowledge, no. Well, not besides you, that is."
The girl stared in confusion for a second before the reply registered, her expression turning indignant once it did. "Hey! Don't call me that! It's Missy, okay?! Just Missy!"
Nearl blinked at the oddly intense response. "You know, you've never really told me why you dislike your full name so much," she mused.
Melissa narrowed her eyes with such a sour look, it could've made lemons cry. "Not all of us like the names that were given to us, Maggie."
Margaret let out a surprised bark of laughter at the acerbic response from the usually polite girl. "Wow, I haven't heard that one in decades," she said with an amused shake of her head, throwing her arms up in surrender. "Alright, alright, I know a sore subject when I see one. I shall drop it for now."
Missy grumbled something about 'just not liking it', before turning back to her phone.
Missy: Okay, sure.
Missy: Who's Mel?
L: …
L: please don't tell her I said that
Missy: ???
L: I don't wanna get grounded again
L: wait
L: forget I said that too
L: how do you delete messageeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Missy: Uhm, you hold tap and then tap the trash can?
She watched as any references to this mysterious Mel person were slowly deleted one by one, before receiving a final reply.
L: :)
Missy: See you at six, I guess…?
"Huh. Okay then," Missy said out loud as she stored her phone and turned to her mentor once more. "Can we go to Palanquin later?"
Nearl nodded, seeing no problem with the request. "Alright. I was planning to do some shopping later as well, so perhaps we could split up while you go visit her?"
"Sure!" the girl excitedly agreed, feeling oddly elated that her mentor trusted her enough to let her go on her own.
Later that day, Nearl accompanied her to the Palanquin, stopping a couple of blocks before reaching their destination and agreeing to meet again in the same place some hours later so they could head back home together. In the meantime, Nearl would familiarize herself with the general area and do some clothes shopping to prepare for tomorrow. She couldn't attend a funeral in full armor or casual clothes, after all.
Missy wondered why she had been told to enter from the back this time, but her mentor commented that it made sense to do so, as they wouldn't want to be seen frequenting a 'villain' hideout now that they were becoming more known to the public.
So with that in mind, she pulled up her hoodie in a token attempt at concealing her identity, before bidding the Kuranta goodbye for now. Once they parted ways, she walked until she reached the alleyway behind the Palanquin, messaging Elle to let her know she had arrived.
She stood there, patiently waiting by the back entrance, until she was startled by something small bouncing off the top of her head. Whirling around in alarm, she quickly surveyed the area in search of any threats, but paused upon seeing a small object bouncing away from her until it settled on the floor.
Missy cautiously approached it and inspected the… eraser? Huh. It was just a small rubber eraser, like any other she'd see in school.
Pocketing the object, she looked upwards in confusion and saw Elle waving at her, peeking over the edge of the rooftop four stories above her.
She blinked in surprise at the sight, then shrugged and simply jumped up to the rooftop with practiced ease, landing on her feet right next to a very surprised Elle, which caused her to grin.
"Hey, Elle! Long time no see!" she happily greeted her friend with a hug, but paused when she felt the taller girl stiffen in response.
Reluctantly pulling away, she mentally began kicking herself upon seeing the uncomfortable expression on Elle's face.
"Oh, crap. Was that too much?" Shit, it totally was, wasn't it?! Missy's inherited experience at socializing went ignored before she could stop herself from panicking at the thought of having ruined the only friendship with someone her own age she'd had in forever.
She frantically tried to apologize for the misstep. "I apologize if that was too much. Crap, I'm such an idiot, I should've asked if hugging was fine in the first place! Or jumping up here, for that matter. Oh God, I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean–"
"Shut up," Elle thankfully interrupted her before she could continue to embarrass herself, covering up her mouth with a hand. The girl stared at her with her usual impassive expression for a few seconds, as if waiting to see if she would continue, before letting go.
"It's fine. You just startled me. Don't need to apologize," the blunt girl whispered in that particular way of hers.
"...Oh," Missy replied, feeling kind of silly all of a sudden. Quick, a distraction!
"I brought you something!" she exclaimed, reaching into her shoulder bag and pulling out her Miss Margaret Nearl plushie, presenting it to her friend as a peace offering.
Elle blankly stared at it for a moment, before slowly, carefully taking hold of it with silent reverence, poking at its little face and fluffy ears. "It's soft…" she uttered, spellbound by its magnificence.
Then, without a word, she took hold of Missy's hand and dragged her to the same corner of the roof they had been in last time, where they drew together. Although this time, instead of sitting down, her friend simply picked up her bag of drawing supplies and led her back into the building without saying much of anything.
Missy, having by now figured that this was simply the way her friend was, followed along without complaint.
It turns out, Elle wanted to bring her into one of the VIP rooms. It didn't seem too special - it was a fairly normal looking lounge, but it did have a big TV and a dark, sleek looking gaming console with a big pile of games lying next to it. Naturally, Missy recognized exactly none of them. Hell, it wasn't even the same type of console she had used back when she hung out with the Wards!
While Elle sat on the couch and began playing with her borrowed plushie, Missy picked up one of the strangely rectangular game cases haphazardly strewn across the floor and looked at the cover. Something about warriors and tough gangster-looking dudes wearing red vests, for some reason.
"Okay, so you want to play one of these, then?" she asked and turned to her friend, getting a blank stare in return.
"I don't know." Elle admitted with a blink, before turning back to the plushie.
Missy blinked back in confusion.
"Couldn't focus long enough to play, so I never really tried. Mostly just watched Newter play the one with the pretty stone giants. I liked that one, but I don't know which one it is. So you pick something instead," the girl continued after a moment, pointing at the pile without turning away from the object of her focus.
"Uhm, alright," she replied, turning to the game in her hand. After a moment, she discarded it and picked up a different game. This one about 'jamming for New York', or something like that. She discarded it as well and picked up a different one that seemed to be about… bullies? What? She put it down and picked up another one. And another one. And another one…
Missy belatedly realized it was surprisingly hard to pick a game when you had no idea what any of them were like.
In the end, she settled on a racing game that had a futuristic-looking white car with a big, stylized red 'M' on the front, as it seemed to be something the two of them could play together. And hey, maybe playing a racing game would help her overcome her lingering unease with cars. But, well, maybe that was being a little too hopeful.
But still, the two of them settled down on one of the couches and started trying out the game and learning the ropes, arms interlocked to allow Elle to stay focused, which admittedly made things a little awkward at first.
Eventually, they figured a more comfortable position after they dragged a low table in front of the couch and simply rested their feet on it, one of Elle's legs lazily draped across hers so they could stay in touch and focus both hands on the game, which turned out to be surprisingly fun and not at all what she had expected from a racing game.
The tracks had more in common with roller coasters and water park slides than any kind of sensible race track, the cars could dash sideways, spin, jump, do flips and barrel rolls in the air in ways that were blatantly impossible, the cars were cool and unique, the colors were bright and cheerful, the music was exciting, and every race felt more like an aggressive game of bumper cars than any kind of real race.
It was awesome, and even Elle seemed to think so as well, judging by her constant smiling and humming whenever they bumped into one another, trying to throw each other off the track, which eventually devolved into outright elbowing and kicking to gain an advantage over the other, laughing all the while.
It was an hour later, during this aggressive game of sabotage, that the door to the lounge opened and a voice called out.
"Yo, Elle! Your friend's on the news! Come on, you gotta see… Oh. Well, speak of the devil…" Newter, in all of his orange and purple glory, trailed off as he barged into the room and took in the sight before him.
The two of them were 'sitting' on the couch, legs raised in the air trying to kick or push each other off the couch, arms holding their respective controllers as far away as humanly possible from the other, both of them sporting vicious expressions as they mashed buttons on the controllers.
Or, well, as vicious as Elle could be with her usual expression, which basically amounted to a pronounced downturn of her lips as she stared at the ongoing race on the TV with an intense look of concentration, the Nearl plushie still resting in her lap.
Missy turned towards him in surprise. "Newter! Hi! We were, uhhhhhhh– ghwak!" She was interrupted from trying to come up with an excuse as Elle took advantage of her distraction to finally slip past her defenses and kick her in the stomach, causing her to let out a mortifying turkey-like squawk of protest, and also allowing her traitorous friend to win the race.
"Hey! Not fair! I was winning that one!" she exclaimed in indignation after she recovered, ignoring the way Newter practically fell over laughing.
"Too bad, so sad", Elle whispered with a careless shrug. Such betrayal!
"Wow, the boss wasn't kidding. Her being around does help you," the boy commented after he finally stopped laughing, looking at his friend with a curious expression.
"Hey, Newt," Elle greeted her friend with a little wave and a small smile while Missy turned away with a grumble.
"Hey, yourself. Couldn't help but notice your new friend's here," Newter replied, staring at Missy for a moment, before his eyes were drawn to Elle's unusually sharp and bright gaze. He really couldn't remember the last time he had seen his friend look so… focused. It was a nice change, he thought.
"Uhm, Elle wanted to hang out and play games. So I just, y'know, came over and stuff…" Missy replied awkwardly, feeling a little put on the spot.
The boy nodded in understanding, eyeing the controllers in their hands with a little trepidation. "That's great! Just, ahh, try not to damage my console, yeah? It's an old import from Aleph and very expensive to find replacements for it."
Missy frowned in confusion. "Isn't importing things from Earth Aleph impossible, though?"
Newter nervously laughed as he scratched the back of his head. "Ah, well, you're right about that. Only thing they can send through the portal is an internet connection, basically. But some dudes on the internet managed to get their hands on the blueprints and software for a couple of game consoles from Aleph and shared them around the internet. Then some other people started making them and selling them. Well, if you know where to look, that is."
"So it's illegal," Missy said in a deadpan tone.
"I wouldn't put it like that. More like unlawfully appropriated. But still, these cost a lot to make due to how, ah, rare they are, y'know? Way more expensive than even the best modern consoles on the market," Newter explained with a proud expression, for some godforsaken reason.
Missy's eyebrows raised in response, her incredulous gaze alternating between staring at the boy and the frankly absurdly large pile of apparently very expensive pirated games lying next to it.
Upon seeing the dubious look the girl gave him, Newter tried to defend himself. "Hey! So what if I spend a little money on collecting some old games from Aleph? We all have our hobbies, okay?! Besides, their games are way better than ours!"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," Missy rolled her eyes. Completely unimpressed by the fact that a teenage parahuman mercenary probably spent most of his salary on buying bootleg gaming consoles, of all things.
"What was that you said about the news?" Elle softly asked Newter, jumping into the conversation to ask about what he mentioned earlier, to which Missy nodded in agreement, also curious to know as well.
The boy paused at that, a confused expression on his face as he stared at Missy. "What, you haven't heard?"
"Heard what? I've been kinda all over the place today. Haven't had time to watch the news," the girl said with a tilt of her head.
In response, Newter raised a finger and told her to wait for a moment, before he went and retrieved a remote controller next to the large TV and quickly swapped channels until he reached one of the popular news broadcasts, which was displaying…
Oh.
On the screen, the news anchors were discussing two different silent clips side by side. The first one showed a reporter making some muted commentary as the camera slowly panned across a familiar scene from a couple of days ago, of a street littered with half melted metal debris, scorch marks and dozens of restrained gang members being swarmed by PRT agents and forensic teams.
The second clip, however, was something she hadn't seen yet. It showed a large group of reporters swarming before a raised podium, being held back by a line of troopers as they shouted silent questions at an irritated Director Piggot while Armsmaster stood at parade rest by her side.
Huh. So they finally released that press conference they've been talking about for a while? Wonder what took them so long.
While the three of them watched this, the two anchors on screen continued their narration of events.
"–debuted in a surprising display of proactive heroism from our local independent team New Wave, not much is known about the Bay's newest wave of heroes other than their names and their desire to form part of the open cape movement."
Newter groaned, palming his face. "Ugh, everyone's been at it with the 'New New Wave' puns the whole day. Can't even scroll past two comments on PHO without some asshat making a dumb joke about it."
Missy raised an eyebrow at that, but the other news anchor began talking before she could ask about it.
"Indeed, Jessie. Although for good reason, I'd say. While their transparency is something to applaud, concerns have been raised for the safety and privacy of one of the new members of New Wave due to her very young age, marking her as the city's youngest parahuman to date."
"When questioned about their decision to allow Astra to become part of their team, Brandish stated that it had been a unanimous vote by the entire team made with full consideration for the young parahuman's circumstances, and it was ultimately decided that it would be in girl's best interests to be allowed to join."
"In addition to that, when asked about the identities of their new members, she clarified that although they would continue to adhere to their movement's policy of transparency and accountability, they would prefer that Astra's name not be divulged, as the young cape is going through a tough time in her life and they do not wish to cause any undue stress to her. Although their second newest member, Radiant Knight, is a different matter that we shall revisit later."
"We at Brockton Five of course choose to respect New Wave's desire for privacy towards their youngest member. After all, it's quite difficult to look at someone like this with mistrust."
At the anchor's prompting, the screen shifted and began to play that clip of Missy and Nearl that Assault had recorded during the aftermath of the shootout.
Faster than Newter could react, Missy practically leapt towards him and ripped the remote out of his gloved hands, causing him to flinch away at the sudden reaction. Desperately switching channels, Missy froze as realization hit her, causing her to dramatically collapse onto her knees.
It was too late.
Even if Elle and Newter didn't see it, it was being played on the news right now, perfectly accessible to everyone else in the city, let alone the internet.
Oh God.
Punching the floor in frustration, face burning in a mix of shame, embarrassment and humiliation, she laid prostrated on the ground in defeat, condemned to forever be haunted by that one single moment of weakness where she hugged Nearl in public and committed the unforgivable sin of 'being cute' while someone was recording.
As the other occupants of the room laughed at her misfortune, Missy could do nothing but tremble at the indignity of it all as she raged at the cruel heavens above.
Thanks for the warm welcome to my return. I ain't dead, but my co-writer was real busy which left it hanging for way longer than it should. Sorry about that. If I stop writing this, I will tell you, so dw about me disappearing of the face of the planet.
