Here is a rather long chapter.... I may need to fix it some, but oh well. I can fix it later if I need to.
It's been a while since I posted a story, so--here you go.
I'm not sure about the name of this story. Depends on which direction it goes.
Chapter 1 Refuge
I flew toward the sun, my wings, metal bands on my arms, carrying me higher and higher until the cold cancelled out the sun's heat. My heart throbbed like it was bleeding out, worse than the now-healed gunshot on my chest.
I can’t go back there, I thought.
Dad’s offworld, he can’t make me, not even the burden of the Royal Marches can make me….
A twinge of guilt hit me. I felt like I’d abandoned Tashi and Lith and Varshan. We’d gone through so much together, and now I was acting like they didn’t exist, like their pain didn’t matter—
But just thinking about going back sent a wave of panic through me. I’d put it off too long, and now I’d let fear build up until it was like a physical barrier, stronger than the barrier between worlds.
I opened my eyes. The sun glared down at me without warmth, without pity.
I fled its gaze, zipping down through the clouds, mist sparking against my skin like electric current. I flew faster and faster, wind whipping into my face, danger pounding through my veins. Dark spots shot across my vision. My breath was torn from my throat. I laughed in the face of its pain, nothing compared to the pain shooting through the core of my heart—
I slowed, gasping. My skin burned from the wind. I hovered, getting my breath back. Hanging onto consciousness.
Below, a few houses dotted the landscape. Two-story buildings with red roofs made of stone or adobe. A few miles away, the beach stretched out in a long, white border. And to the north, the red cliffs stood, where I used to come with my friends, before Responsibility caught me in its trap….
Something tugged me toward the cliffs, and I flew, the fresh, seaweed-like smell of the ocean infusing the air.
There was a blindspot in the sensors out here; not even Monitors could find me. I sunk toward the earth, longing for the time when I was free and Dad didn’t expect things of me and I could enjoy the day on my own sometimes….
My boots hit the rocks, jarring my left leg where metal met flesh. Ignoring it, I walked across the wind-carved swirls and stopped at the edge.
Then I leaped off the cliff, letting my wings carry me down to the beach in front of the cave. I walked along the sand, seagulls spiraling in the air, swooping down to the sand. The waves rolled in, the rhythm soothing my mind, numbing the pain.
I tugged off my boots, and dove into the sea. Warm waves swallowed me and I swam down, down into blueness sliced with rays of gold.
Seaweed caressed my sides, wavering like green worms. A crab scuttled under a broad shelf of rock as my shadow approached. I snatched up a heart-sized shell, its golden insides shimmering. And I shot up, up toward the blue-veiled sun.
I lay back onto the sand, my chest heaving. The scar on my chest throbbed, where the bullet pierced through bone and flesh….
I gasped as if shot again. No. Think of anything else.
The sun. The sky. Clouds bouncing along the horizon. The sand, warm and smooth, massaged my back with tiny grains.
Sunlight heated my closed eyelids.
The world faded.
Blue eyes burning like shards of ice. Cold fire tearing me apart from the inside. Screaming drowns out all other sound.
Desperate for solace, for home—only darkness. Running, running only to have invisible nets catch me, sling me down onto hard, bruising rock—
Crack! Something breaks inside me but I can’t wake up—can’t fight against these bonds tying me to darkness—
A hand grabs my shoulder—I lash out, smashing it with my fist—
“Jet—Jet,” said a gentle voice. “It’s me.”
The hand touched my shoulder and I pried my eyes open, sunlight blinding me. A face blurred into my vision, brown hair and sea-green eyes—
“Sol?” I whispered, still half-entwined in nightmare.
“It’s gonna be all right,” said the voice, hands pressing me to his chest. His sun-warm, silken shirt brushed against my cheek, and I tasted the saltiness of the sea along with the graininess of the sand I must’ve swallowed while thrashing around.
My vision sharpened, and I noticed a bruise blossoming across his jaw.
“Did I do that?” I said.
He smiled sheepishly. “Well….” He swept back a curl of brown hair from his forehead.
“I’m sorry! I—“
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Shame heated my face. I almost wished it was my fault—better than him catching me in this state when I’d rather pretend the past few months hadn’t happened and we could go back to having fun, being free out here amid the sun and sea….
His gaze fell to my scar and I wished I had brought a shirt along. I slid my hand over it, then switched to brushing sand off of my stomach and arm.
“Risk and Sym are in the cave,” said Sol. “I thought I’d come out for a swim, and— Do you want to come on in?”
I nodded, although I wasn’t sure if I wanted them to see my scars. Sol seemed to sense this; he swept off his shirt in one deft motion and draped it over my shoulders. I clasped its edges over my heart.
After tugging on my boots, I made my way to the cave, but the dream had drained something out of me. I had to lean over, my hands on my thighs, my head spinning. Sol supported me for a few steps, then I walked on my own.
We meandered through the cavern, wind whispering through its hollows, stripes of purple threading through the red, an occasional shimmer of sunlight lancing through holes cut into the rock by the wind.
As we rounded the curving path that led to our hideout room, my heart thumped with anticipation. Risk and Symphony stood when I entered, and Sym let out a squeal and raced toward me, throwing her arms around my neck, pressing her cheek against mine.
“Are you okay, Jet?” She searched my eyes with her amber ones. Shoulder-length blonde hair framed her face, sunlight spinning it into brilliant gold.
I nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t know you guys were out here.”
“We were having a picnic,” said Risk, sauntering up to me. She put a hand on my shoulder, and gave one of her rare smiles, her sky-blue eyes lighting up. “I’m glad you’re back, Jet.”
I smiled. “Me too.”
“It’s been a while.”
Sym looked up at Sol. “What happened to you?”
He fingered his jaw; winced. “I ran into something.
“My fist,” I said.
Sym gasped.
“Not on purpose,” said Sol.
“It looks awful!” She stood on tiptoes and kissed the bruise.
I looked away, although I wasn’t sure if it meant what I thought it did; Sym was demonstrative with everyone.
They invited me over to the cove and I sat down on a broad shelf of rock, sunlight filtering in through a hole in the ceiling. I came here whenever I wanted to get away from sensors that tracked me, and from Monitors, huge mechanical guards that shadowed my every move. My father found out about this place six months ago, but maybe I could hide out here for a little while. Dad was off-world, after all, trying to settle a dispute among our strongest allies.
I wanted to go back to visit Lith, Tashi and Varshan, not conduct affairs of state like I was supposed to. Stay as far away from the Fortress as I could.
Sol handed me a sandwich and an orange. “We brought extra.”
“Just in case you showed up,” said Sym. Her eyes caught mine meaningfully. “We missed you, you know.”
I took a bite of the sandwich. My eyes stung; I shoved down the emotion that threatened to brim over the edge.
“I missed you too,” I managed. “So, what have you guys been up to lately?”
“Not too much,” said Risk, sitting opposite me. Her red-brown hair was spiked to sharp points, and she wore a form-fitting outfit, purple swirling with black undertones, streamlined for flying. She didn’t have wings like I did—no non-March was allowed to—but she loved flying her skyrider. She could work wonders with that thing—and fly almost as fast as I could.
“Have you been out flying?” I asked. I took another bite of the sandwich. Tangy sauce flooded my tongue.
“Oh, yeah,” said Risk. “But it’s not the same without you.”
“I’m sorry.”
She waved her hand. “You had a lot to deal with.”
“I wish I could have visited,” said Sym. “But they wouldn’t let me into your room.”
“Dad’s rules,” I said. “The Spire's basically been on lockdown since the war.”
I caught Sym’s eyes straying to my leg. “Is it…okay? I mean, I only found out about…what happened from the holocasts, and I didn’t know whether you got a new one or not.”
“I’m—“ I was about to say ‘fine’, but I knew I was not. It seemed like I had my metal leg forever, but it had only been a month and a half. A lot had happened since then. I didn’t want to hide things from my friends—there were already enough barriers between us. As much as I wished things could go back the way they were, I couldn’t move forward without at least telling them something.
I reached down and pulled up my left pant leg. Sym gasped. “But—it’s metal!”
“It’s not even orikal,” I said. “It’s a Con alloy. Dad had Con medics attach it when we escaped to Interworld.”
“But—why?”
I shrugged. “It’s just temporary. I’m getting a new one soon.”
Then I’ll be able to walk without pain, I thought, but didn’t say. As much as I’d rather fly, I can’t always be in the air, avoiding the ground….
“I’m so sorry, Jet!” Sym leaped toward me, kissed my cheek. I fought the urge to slide away, keep her sympathy at arms-length. It was too much. I hadn’t wanted this when I flew out here…I wanted to go back to the way it was. Was that too much to ask?
Well, I couldn’t exactly pretend I was back to normal until I got a real leg instead of a metal one. And until my scars were completely healed….
“That’s not the only reason I didn’t come back to visit you. As soon as I recovered, Dad sent me on a mission to—“I paused for dramatic effect—“Conglomerate Central.”
“You went to Con?” said Sol.
“To get back the Channel they stole.”
“I didn’t know they stole the Channel,” said Sym.
“It was a top secret mission.”
“It looks like it was a success,” said Risk, an eyebrow raised.
“Well….getting the Channel back was the easy part. It was…getting home that was hard.” I hesitated as the memories washed over me. Then, I told them the whole thing from start to finish. I left out a few things, though. The worst parts, I couldn’t bring myself to explain, even to myself. When I was done, I leaned back against the rock wall, feeling strangely better, as if a bit of the pain had melted away.
The room was silent, just the whistle of the wind through the cracks, the distant slosh of waves on the shore.
Sym’s lips were slightly parted, a tear streaking down her cheeks, her brow furrowed.
Risk was frowning, leaning forward, her pale face drained of color. She ran a gloved hand through her hair, ruffling the spikes into disarray.
Sol’s jaw was clenched, anger in his eyes, like a storm brewing beneath the depths of the sea. His hands gripped the shelf of rock beside him. “I wish I could have been there,” he said. “Somehow…fight by your side. Stop the injustice on that world.”
“You can’t really wish you were there.”
“Well, I don’t envy what happened to you. But sometimes I wish I could do more….More than just fiddle around, work, have fun. I want to do something that means something. As a March, you can do that. You can make a difference in the worlds.”
“I…never really thought of it that way.” I’d always thought of it as a burden rather than a privilege—I’d rather just go to other worlds and have fun, not go on missions. But maybe he was right…I had liked that part. Helping the Kashadas, helping free the slaves. It had somehow been worth it, because of that. We were Marches; we were here to maintain our worlds, and make other worlds better.
“But you do make a difference,” I said. “Every day. You don’t just focus on your own happiness like a lot of people. I know that makes a difference in how this world works. Someday, maybe you’ll be able to go to other worlds and help them.”
His eyes lit up. “I’d like that.”
“Maybe you could come with me.”
“If you’re bringing Sol, I’m coming too,” said Risk.
“You’re not leaving me out!” said Sym. “I’ve wanted to go to other worlds longer than anyone! But if you’d put in a good word for me, Jet….”
“I’m not sure Dad would allow it.”
“You said he’s trusting you with more things now.”
“I don’t know if he’d let regs travel at will—but maybe. Someday. If I keep in his good graces…”
And that was another reason to obey my father. I’d never have as much influence as Glory—or Vy, or Blade—but I was finally becoming a March, accepted by my father.
I still dreaded going back, but telling my friends what had happened had sapped away some of the fear. I just had to keep reminding myself that it wasn’t going to be like it was last time. Varshan was an advisor to the general in charge of the Fortress. Lapparan was in prison. The world had changed for the better. Lapparan was not going to take me, drag me back into that room and rip into me—
No. I wasn’t going to dwell on nightmares.
I unclasped my shirt and tossed it to Sol; he caught it in midair. “I’d better get back,” I said.
“No!” said Sym. “Why?”
“If I do, maybe I can convince Dad to let you come along next time. Then you can meet Tashi, Lith and Varshan.”
“What if you can’t?”
“Then we’ll just have fun here. I’ll come back, I promise.”
I stood, my heart wrenching with the realization that I was leaving them so soon after being gone for so long.
I’ll be back, I thought.
And I’ll go swimming with Sol, flying with Risk, exploring the beach with Sym….
I stepped toward the doorway of the cavern, and flew up through the hole into the sky, back toward the Spire.