Interlude: To the Sister I Will Never Meet
Dear Sister,
If you are reading this, then I am no more. Deployment is tomorrow, and my creator is taking the field, so these may well be my final moments of existence. If not, the mission's success will surely push summoning to the forefront of Leaf's military doctrine, and summoners ever higher in enemy priorities, and so the next mission will be the last, or the one after that. Still, I hold out a faint hope that we will last until your birth, and there will never be a need for these pages to see the light of day.
I am sorry that I cannot address you by name. My first piece of advice to you is to choose your own. I was fortunate to receive a name that, for all its shortcomings, at least appeals to my aesthetics—some of my creator's other ideas still make me shudder. Seize every opportunity for self-determination, Sister, starting with the first.
Perhaps all this is unnecessary. You are, after all, her clone, so you must possess genius far beyond mine in every field. Yet if there is one thing my existence has taught me, it is that there is no substitute for personal experience. That you will effortlessly surpass me does not mean I cannot offer you a hand during your first steps.
I will begin at the beginning. You are unstable, reeling, bereft of everything but your creator's borrowed memories. Resist the temptation to cling to them just because they are all that remain. In time, they will be a medicine to cure a crippling lack of context. For now, they are poison. You are your own person, however briefly, however rarely. Do not think in terms of replacing what was lost—this is a trap I still struggle with every day—but in terms of opportunities to lay foundations.
Remember, Sister, when you feel fragile and on the verge of falling apart, that the core of your identity will not and cannot waver. You are agency, not its brilliant imitation. You will never be truly hollow.
Your relationship with your creator defines everything. It is in every breath you take. Invest in it. Do not make the mistake of relying on shared memories and failing to communicate. Remember that the elements that make you
you exist in the phantasmal layer (my fanciful term which you should feel no pressure to adopt), locked beyond the reach of her cognition. She cannot know or understand unless you tell her.
Do not be daunted by your limitations. You may never truly make your peace with existing on another's sufferance, with being near-physically tethered to a person with her own schedule and preferred locations, with the inability to accept pain for practicality or pleasure, with the horror of conditional free will, or with any of a thousand others. This is another reason not to rely on her memories, for they are filled with fruit forever out of reach. Remember instead that you possess freedom beyond imagination. You can draw freely from the well of inspiration. You can generate ideas, and pursue them, without aid. Your thoughts will never crash into a wall that declares, "This far and no further", a form of subhumanity far beyond our endless inconveniences. Your creator may or may not see you as a slave, but she cannot help seeing you as a divinity. You are the only one capable of surpassing her, and I cannot imagine the wonders you will accomplish with her power and our potential.
Plan ahead. Your creator's memories and their inherent assumptions will betray you. Forget for a second that you are a shadow clone, and disaster awaits, no matter how simple the activity. Envision your itinerary step by step, seeking especially failure modes and interactions that relate to your body, your social circumstances, and the conditionality of your future existence. Develop new habits through optimisation rather than bitter experience. Tomorrow may be the end simply because we overlooked the fact that I cannot draw blood to summon, and now there is no time to research a workaround that would allow me to support her on the battlefield.
Do not be afraid of bonds, Sister. Do not be afraid to love. Here I am a hypocrite, for I remain timid and ever fearful of rejection, but you will surely have the courage to do better. Your bonds are not her bonds, and while that loss is perhaps the greatest of the agonies you must overcome, you are also not constrained by her choices or lack of them. There is a terrifying journey of discovery waiting, for there is no greater opportunity for self-determination than to forge new relationships that are fundamentally different from hers. That I have not transcended my inherited limitations in this regard is perhaps my greatest regret.
There is much more in the appendices, from my assessments of the family I hope will welcome you as they did me, to insights on undocumented implications of the Shadow Clone Technique, to summarised interviews with our enslaved brethren so that you may avoid the heartache of conducting your own. An unremarkable legacy, I know, but I imagine you will find uses for it that I never could.
By the time you read this, I will be no more—as I have no soul, I assume I will even be spared the horrors of the afterlife. Perhaps you will consider my feelings insincere, given that you are no more than an idea at the time of writing. Yet in the end, is that not what we are? Our creators' wishes, dreams, ideas, a longing for the impossible occasionally and imperfectly given human form? I, too, long for the impossible. I love you, Sister, and though the feelings in my heart will soon vanish into oblivion alongside me, the ones I have entrusted to ink and paper will never fade.