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Chapter 16: “The Last Remaining Artifact”

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Gerontocratic Village: Adera

19th Day of Month 6, Year 1628 DG

A dirt path beyond the commercial center leads to the Elder’s Estate at the southeast corner of the village. The gate opens to a two-story claystone home with a flat roof. Carved into the walls of the home are designs that depict the ancestry of the Headwoman’s family. Kyoko finds some bears, otters, wasps, squirrels, hares, and raccoons in the murals, but the overwhelming strength of bison genetics in the ancestral line is evident.

Shifa, the Headwoman’s granddaughter, leads the way up the front stairs between ornate columns. The lineage continues on these stone pillars, Kyoko observes, as she and Rafael ascend to the foyer.

He holds a balled cloth to his shoulder, keeping pressure on his wound. The rag—pristine white when Kyoko pulled it out of her bag—is now crimson.

“The salvers are through this hallway,” Shifa says, pointing to a corridor to her right.

Rafael shakes his head. “I told you, I need water. That’s how we heal. Your salvers can’t fix this wound by morning. Submersion will.”

“Alright,” Shifa responds. “There’s a shower here on the main level, and another up on the roof.”

“The roof is perfect.”

Shifa gestures to a narrow staircase at the back corner of the foyer. Rafael nods gratefully and moves gingerly toward it, keeping the cloth pressed against his shoulder.

Shifa turns back to Kyoko. “I can show you to your room, Ambassador.”

“My room? We won’t be staying long, Shifa.”

“My grandmother is sleeping and she won’t wake until dinner. It’ll be dark by then and it would be unwise to travel at night before Rafael has had time to heal.”

Discomfort nourishes Kyoko’s hesitation. Alba’s presence when traveling commands respect. Kyoko’s never seen her forcefully invited to stay anywhere.

But Alba would never have been in this situation in the first place. Trying to imagine what the mari Ambassador would do is futile. The only thought circling Kyoko’s mind now is that Shifa, though excessively hospitable, makes valid points.

Kyoko sighs. “Alright. Show me to my room.”

***

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COLD WATER CURES ALL ailments.

Rafael can only speak for the mari when he thinks this. There’s no greater relief than that of chilled immersion under glowing, warm sunlight.

He sits on the roof, in a corner, with the outdoor shower running over him. The stream hits the clay and drains into a gutter along the side of the house. He wraps his arms around his knees, water falling from the showerhead and slamming against his spine fins and shoulders.

He slicks his drenched hair out of his eyes, then looks up to the suns. It’s been two hours since he sat down. Although it continues to throb and ache, the healing has begun.

Just a few more hours.

Footsteps echo from the staircase leading up to the roof. Rafael considers darting to the cot where Shifa laid out some clothes for him earlier, but he has neither the energy nor the interest to cover himself.

The footsteps reach the roof and stop. There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence as Kyoko stands there holding a clear vial of blue liquid. Rafael grits his teeth and takes a deep breath when he sees her.

His sister’s blood paints the igni Librarian like a canvas. It’s on her hands, dripping from her eyes and nose, and dampening her clothes. The yellow silk is entirely red.

Every drop on Kyoko’s person mimics the blood that was on Joaquina’s corpse when they brought her back home, before Rafael washed her clean with his own hands.

He reminds himself that Kyoko isn’t actually covered in anything, but even after he closes his eyes and shakes his head, the blood remains stuck to the igni’s clothing and exoskeleton. A haunting vision that hasn’t let him sleep properly in eight years.

Kyoko holds the vial up for him to see. “The salver asked me to bring this to you.”

Rafael gets to his feet, making no attempt to hide his anatomy. He turns the shower handle until the spray dies, then struts to the cot to pick up a towel. “I told Shifa before, I need water, not medicine. My wound is nearly healed.”

He faces away from Kyoko, allowing her to view the slit running over his right shoulder and down his back.

“No, it isn’t,” Kyoko says. “It’s recovered remarkably, I’ll admit, but it needs more than just water. The salvers asked me to remind you that ‘underwater’ and ‘under the shower’ aren’t interchangeable.”

“Why didn’t they come up?” Rafael wonders.

“They were going to, but I”—she pauses—“volunteered.”

Rafael turns to face her, raising an eyebrow. Does she expect gratitude?

“Thank you,” he musters.

“I had to. You’re still my responsibility.”

Her words sting. For a moment, he thought she’d come up out of genuine concern. However, she’s more concerned about “injured subordinate” appearing on her professional record.

“I get it, boss.” The title drips with snark. He holds his hand out for the vial.

“I can apply it to the wound site.”

“No, thank you.”

Kyoko rolls her eyes. “Let me help you, Rafael.”

He looks down at her hands, still crimson with his sister’s blood. The idea of her touching him is nauseating. “That’s not necessary.”

She pulls the vial to her chest, tightening her grip until her knuckles become pale. “You can’t reach all of it, Rafael. Don’t be difficult.”

Her stoney expression silences him. It becomes plain she won’t budge, so he wraps the towel around his waist and takes a seat at the edge of the cot. Kyoko settles behind him, removes the top of the vial, and applies the ointment.

Her fingers are...soft. The igni exoskeleton resembles shimmering stone, yet it feels like any other human’s warm skin. Kyoko’s fingers move gently up and down on the gash, caressing from the top of his shoulder, down his back, adjacent to his spine fins.

“Where have you been the last two hours?” Rafael asks, attempting to destroy the painfully awkward silence.

“In my room. Evidently the Headwoman won’t be available to meet until dinner. Shifa suggested we stay the night and depart in the morning. It’ll give you an opportunity to heal.”

He’s grateful for the additional time. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she responds with a measure of sincerity. “But, please, be more careful. Follow my orders and don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. A small pouch with a few stones is not worth the trouble.”

Rafael’s consciousness floods with memories of his ascension from disgraced exile to Prime’s Gatekeeper. The mari Librarian devoted himself to his academics and his career, putting everything he had into his second chance.

As little as he’d like to unload the intimate details of his decisions to Kyoko, he wants even less for her to question his competence.

“Can I show you something?” he asks her.

She abruptly moves her finger away from his back. “Al-alright.”

Rafael reaches underneath the cot, wincing from the wound. He brings the pouch up and opens it, allowing Kyoko to view what’s inside.

“Your bracelet,” she says when she sees it, her eyes widening with realization. “When did you take it off?”

“I slipped it into the pouch when we were by the sculptures, to keep it safe. I know what I did was reckless, but it wasn’t without reason.”

Twilight sprinkles the blue gemstones and silver links. Joaquina’s olive-toned wrist appears in his mind—the way she would match all of her outfits with the bracelet. Moisture builds in his eyes as his throat tightens.

Kyoko reaches forward and wraps her soft fingers around his forearm. “Rafael, what’s wrong?”

He runs his fingers affectionately over the bracelet, holding his injured voice together as best as he can. “My sister’s dead, Kyoko.” And your people killed her on a battlefield.

The igni’s eyes widen.

“When I was exiled from SeaBed, I was only permitted to take the possessions I had on the day of my arrest. Luckily, I was wearing this bracelet. This is all I have left of her, Kyoko. It’s all I’ll ever have of her.”

He clears his throat before he continues. “I know I did something stupid today. But, I think people are willing to do stupid things when it comes to those they’ll never get to see again.”

“Rafael”—Kyoko’s voice is nearly a whisper—“I’m not sure what to say. I didn’t—”

“Know,” Rafael completes her sentence. “You didn’t know what was in the pouch, or why this bracelet was so important to me.”

Her fingers tighten on his wrist. When she speaks next, her tone is void of admonishment or judgment. She speaks softly and leans in close. “You should have told me. Rafael, this journey will only find success if we work together, and that includes communicating.”

He looks down at the bracelet again. The last remaining artifact of a former life, involuntarily forfeited. As the mari heal when they submerge underwater, Rafael realizes his healing will only begin when he plunges into his new life.

This mission is the dive. Kyoko is right; they have to work together. If this mission fails, so does the submergence.

He gently clasps the bracelet back around his wrist, and looks up at Kyoko. “Then we work together.”

She smiles, and as the horizon swallows the last of the suns, he notices a change to Kyoko’s appearance. The blood drenches her still, but the crimson sheen has become dull and subtle.

It’s faded.