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Talon had no response to that. He only sat down, his face losing all emotion. For some reason, it settled me, seeing him give in like that.
“The stars make mistakes all the time. Either I’m the error, or they are. And I refuse to believe it’s me when the stars have proven time and time again that they believe in my ability to be of use.”
For what felt like ages, the two of us stewed in the silence, marinated in it until I could have sworn I smelled it on my body. The shame mingled with the fury. I had yelled at my only ally, and he had outright decided that my family was not worth saving. Nothing more could be said.
“I’m exhausted, Supernova. Can we just agree that right now our priority must be getting you out of this academy alive? We have time to figure out the rest.” His voice was a broken plea, though there was still a hint of aggravation in the tone.
No, there wasn’t time. But he wouldn’t know that. He never asked about my family. Didn’t care to understand them. He, like everyone else, wrote them off. So I stood there, my arms crossed and my scowl firmly on my face, and said nothing.
Eventually, Talon sighed and nodded, getting out of my bed and then sinking into his own. I watched as he rolled over, not even willing the light out of existence before soft snores ensued. Not so offended he couldn’t sleep then.
Groaning, I got back into my bed, torn between wishing I could take back what I said and wanting to wake him up so I could scream it even louder.
Suddenly, I felt something crawling on my arm. No, slinking. Slithering. I yelped, throwing back my blanket to reveal a piece of parchment shaped like a snake, the thing gliding toward meas if saying hello. Breathing out a curse, I grabbed it and began unfolding.
What a loud lovers quarrel. Do consider a silencing ward next time you wish to scream nonsense. I’d much rather hear your moans, and that’s saying something. I do wonder though, Little Void, when will you realize what he actually thinks of you?
I shredded the note, wishing it were Altair’s flesh.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Nova
“The first time I saw a dead body was when I was three. It wasn’t due to hunger or the elements, though I’ve seen that since. No, this girl—who was about the age I am now—was brutally raped by an official, then left for dead on the pathway in front of our house. She was so bloody that none of us recognized her at first. Not until her father came screaming and sobbing, begging the stars for mercy. The girl survived thanks to Mama, but the next morning, she killed herself in the same exact spot. I have no idea how I remember it so vividly, but I do.”
-From the journal of Nova Tershetta, 9246 AS
The first death came the day after our fourth illusion.
While I had known it wasn’t uncommon for trainees to die during academy, I hadn’t expected it to be by their own hand.
Jeanette Rhoden, the trainee who had beaten me to a pulp on our final day of the grey phase, had been found at the base of the clock tower that sat in the center of the courtyard, her brains and innards scattered across the cobblestone. At first, I struggled to believe that someone would choose such a gruesome death, and I even considered that Otarn and Zade had done it. But Jeanettehad been close with them, often doting on the cores. Plus, we had all witnessed her breakdown after her illusion. She had to be dragged out of the training center kicking and screaming, vomit still coating her training leathers. When they tried to put her to sleep, she bit the hand of the medic. Her screams echoed long after they had left, the sounds chilling.
Now she was dead. We held no service. Did nothing to honor her. In fact, Captain Zade suggested we had gotten rid of a weak link. Once again, I found myself wanting to rip her stupid head off. But Talon and I were on rocky ground, neither willing to talk about our fight a few nights prior. Not that I could take her anyways.
Often, I came to the conclusion that many were unable to see what I did. They did not recognize how dangerous and uncertain our futures were. Nor did they question the way things were done. They followed, and sometimes I was inclined to do so as well. But there was a price to knowledge if you had a conscience. And, unfortunately, I did.
As we sat in class, Jeanette’s blood barely cold, I wondered if that was our sacrifice for the shadows. Losing your ability to empathize—your humanity gone.
Would I one day be just like Captain Zade? Her uninterested face only lighting up when someone was in pain? Her hatred for anything she felt was less than she was? Her desire to prey upon men like Altair who she held power over?
No, I had my family. They would keep me steady. If I could find a way to save them, that was.
“Trainee Tershetta, which planet did we learn about the use of long distance communications from after conquering it?” the educator asked, their mask tilting to the side as they looked at me. Why they insisted on wearing them so often, I didn’t know. But what I did know was that they loved to call on me in the hopes of making me stumble.
“Planet two-zero-four, also known as Envotrista.”
“And what was it that they crafted to do so?”
“They utilized some sort of brick-like device that allowed them to speak across miles.”
“What did we create in response to gaining this knowledge?”
“We developed a way to merge our shadows with tech, training the two to take sound waves and transport them like bodies or parchment. About nine hundred years ago, Colonel Lenne Xentofar turned that into live projections of one’s body, which appears in a very similar way to the maps cartographers craft.”
“Correct,” the educator groaned, moving on to another trainee. But they would try again to catch me saying something wrong. Always testing me not just because I was an akhata, but because I had the audacity to be a smart one.
All at once my thoughts about their hatred for me, their disinterest in Jeanette, and their utter lack of a heart collided. Merged. Forming one cohesive conclusion.
