The people of Aleris, or rather what remained of them after a series of terrible events, both past and present, seemed to somehow manage to go on. Lives were shattered, families were destroyed, cities and towns were in ruin...again. The populace that was once vast and great, had diminished so severely in the past few years, it was a wonder the world was not abandoned altogether. Yet there were survivors, if one could call them that. Shell shocked, war and world weary, people who had seen more bloodshed, more catastrophic events than any living creature ever should, picked up the fragile pieces of their lives and made their feeble attempts to mend.
Life had to continue.
The girl, nearly a woman now physically, had returned to her employer changed, and perhaps not for the better. Silly, giggly, girly Rahne, now quiet and reserved, serious and cynical. There was a hardness to the girl that matched her features. Gone was the baby softness of her face, the sparkle in those violet eyes. Instead, hard lines decorated her face, a coldness crept in her eyes, and gone was the smile that once was followed by laughter or some crude jest. Dark circles were a prominent feature under those eyes and more than once Reid, who luckily was spared the attacks of the sea people along with the Chronicle, would hear Rahne cry out at night as he spent many a late hour in his office as his desk, trying to find something worthwhile to write. Some positive note to send to the people, some glimmer of hope.
For the first time in ages, Reid Feral had nothing to report. Zilch. Besides, who would read it anyway? People did not require updates. They knew the sad and sorry fate that had befallen Aleris. Why remind them of their losses?
Their king was dead. The gods were silent. The dead overflowed in the cemetery to the point where bodies had to be piled on pyres to burn. Famine was spreading, people were homeless and faithless, children were orphans and men and women widowed.
Exactly what was the point of printing such depressing news to deliver to the public?
There was none. So Reid had come to a decision. He had awoken Rahne one late eve as she lay on the cot in one of the storage rooms he had cleared out especially for her to room in, and informed her of his plans. The Chronicle, for the first time in years, would shut down. Temporarily of course, but for an indefinite period of time. Reid was leaving the City for a well deserved break from the depressing reality...and he was taking Rahne with him. He would look after her, like the ultra-fabulous big sister/brother she never had, and maybe one day, that oh so charming smile of hers would return. Truth was, it broke Reid’s heart to see how broken Rahne had become, and the flamboyant feline was determined to restore the little girl into the mischievous, back-talking, sassy little brat she once was. More than once did he regret not going after her or Zaur. More than once did he curse himself as he sat alone at his desk day and night, wondering if they had lived...or perished in the most horrific of ways.
Reid was the creative type. His mind came up with all sorts of scenarios. None of them good. So it was to his great and sparkly joy that both of his employees had returned safe and sound. Well...safe at least.
Zaur had returned to his home, presumably to see about the well being of his family and promised to return to work as soon as he was able. Reid was having none of that and paid the shifter a handsome vacation bonus while asking him to hold onto whatever story he wanted to share with Reid until the boss man returned. Zaur’s tale of what exactly took place aboard the Jade Phoenix and Lapis Cove, would wait...a tale to be published one day. A fantastic and tragic tale at that.
In the meantime, Reid had kept close tabs on the traumatized Rahne, had taken steps to make sure she was fed (the girl was always thin but was verging on the border of emaciated, and Reid couldn’t have that...guys liked curves or so he had been told), that she had a warm bed to sleep in (for what little she slept anyway), and would be god damned to see his protege going around looking like some poor little beggar child who gave handjobs in the back alley for some cheaply made drug. Oh no miss! Reid had done his homework and found out which merchant stores were opened and still in business. He had dragged the zombified Rahne out into the City, and what wreck it was!, for a shopping spree. Rahne had mustered little enthusiasm, but Reid Feral, Dynamic Diva Extraordinaire that he was, was having the time of his life dressing up his little ragamuffin in clothes suitable for her to be seen out in public with him.
If Reid was going to go around this depressing wasteland called Aleris, he was going in style.
Fuck everyone and their pasty expressions and dark drab clothing. Reid sparkled with vibrant colors and so did Rahne, whether she liked it or not.
Reid refused to disclose exactly where he was planning on taking the girl, but he swore up and down, his bejeweled tail swaying behind him, that they would avoid island hopping at all costs. Rahne was uneasy about the whole situation and refused to sail on a ship, if that’s what her boss had in mind, and so the feline plastered a winsome smile of his face and with his fingers crossed behind his back, promised the girl whatever he needed to to convince her to come along with him. He simply made a mental note to bring along that special sleeping draught he had made up a few days ago. A few drops in Rahne’s tea or whatever crap she was drinking these days, and the wee lass would be out cold. Just long enough to drag her narrow ass on that ship and sail off into the sunset.
The reality was the kid needed to get the hell out of town. So did Reid. A change of scenery would do both of them good. Then, after some badly needed R&R, if and when they returned to this piss palace called the Grand City and to life at the Chronice, well...they’d resume work.
Reid had not asked Rahne about what had taken place in those months she was gone, and Rahne had not volunteered information. The Editor had surmised that whatever went down was beyond awful, and thanked his lucky kitty stars he had not been there to witness it.
***
Rahne’s head lifted as Reid poked his head in her doorway and asked if she was almost ready to go. The girl nodded and told him she would be a couple of minutes, to wait downstairs for her...and that his eye makeup was atrocious. Who wore shocking electric blue these days? Her boss kindly told her to piss off and flounced off, leaving Rahne to shove a few more items in her bag, her mind drifting to that last day. The day the ship that she, Zaur, Wish Star...and Deanna DiCorvino had boarded to sail back to Hinewai Harbor.
***
They had made it. Bruised and battered, scarred mentally, physically and emotionally, but they had made it. They were alive. They had returned home...or to what was left of it. There was no homecoming. No one waiting with open arms at their return. She doubted anyone gave a shit they were gone to begin with. People had their own problems these days, and that was an understatement. Rahne was about to follow an equally exhausted Zaur down the pier into the city, but before she did, the girl turned to the two women who seemed dazed and confused at the tumultuous events that had taken placed, bewildered and awestruck at setting foot in familiar territory. It was as if they couldn’t believe that had survived such pandemonium and returned to tell the tale.
Rahne had said goodbye to Miss Star, nothing heartfelt or emotional, a simple “Bye. Thanks for saving my life,” before turning to regard Deanna with those impossibly wide eyes filled with nothingness. The shifter was looking rather worse for wear, and Rahne had thought more than once that whatever was growing in that belly of hers would suddenly worm its way out in the midst of the violence and blood that had become part of their daily lives for that period of time. Amazingly enough, her brood had hunkered down and refuse to come out and play with the sea creatures, and Rahne had seen that Deanna was both relieved she had not given birth on the island, and yet counting down the days of this never-ending pregnancy until she dropped her load.
Rahne had no love for ‘D’, and in fact, had barely warmed to her, but the woman along with Wish Star had more than once kept the girl from becoming another mindless maniac with ooze leaking from her eyes, or worse...a tasty snack for the walking frog people. Rahne should have thanked her as well, should have looked Deanna in the eye and expressed her gratitude, but instead, the girl’s gaze grew colder and the words came pouring of her lips crackled like ice.
“I know who you are,” and indeed Rahne did. The several day trek into the core of the island left the girl plenty of time and opportunity to eavesdrop on the private conversations that Deanna and Wish whispered quietly to each other when they thought no one could hear. Rahne caught snippets of conversation, but the words “Verial, Sharay and Baby” were brought up often. Hell, Wish even called Deanna by name a few times and though Rahne wasn’t the brightest star in the galaxy, even she put two and two together.
“I know who you are,” she repeated. “And I know what you did. You led those monsters, those wolves...those cannibals into my village. You let them slaughter my family, my friends. Everyone I ever knew or cared for. You massacred them, and then you moved on and spread the murder elsewhere.”
Rahne would never forget the look on Deanna’s face: a mixture of horror and sorrow, of surprise and regret. The woman opened her mouth to try to speak, to try to make Rahne understand that it wasn’t her doing. Not truly. But the girl was having none of it. Rahne cut Deanna off with a slice of her hand, her tone dropping until she all but hissed her next words.
“I don’t fucking care! Blame you, blame that psycho Goddess that everyone was talking about. I know all about her and you! I know everything! You think I’m just some stupid kid, right? That I know jack fuck about the world because you’re oh so broody, such a bad-ass bitch with an ugly huge belly filled with whateverthefuck is in there, but you’re wrong. I am a REPORTER! I get the facts! I don’t care if it was your fault, that fucked up wanna-be diva deity or whatever! I’m holding you responsible for the death of my family and everyone else you murdered!” There were no tears filling Rahne’s eyes. The girl had seen so much, had been through even more, nothing could possibly make her cry now. The time for sadness had come. Now Rahne was filled with hate and revenge, and Deanna was her prime target.
The shifter had just stared open-mouthed at the girl, glancing once to Wish before returning her stupefied gaze back to Rahne. Perhaps she was contemplating murder, but that didn’t stop Rahne from her rage fueled rant.
“Not today. Soon though. You and I are not through.”
Rahne licked at her cracked lips and spun on her heel, leaving the two women standing in her dust. She was going to the Chronicle. Going to see Reid. Leaving this shit behind her...for now. If either Wish or Deanna had said something in response, the young girl wasn’t sticking around to hear it. She said her peace, she would keep her vow. Now, though, it was time to go home. She needed time. Time to heal. Time to plan.
***
Rahne slung her satchel over her shoulder as she stepped outside of the Chronicle building where Reid waited patiently for her. The feline slipped the key into the lock and secured the building. Rahne noted a sign printed on the window that he must have placed while waiting for her.
ON VACATION. BE BACK WHENEVER I FEEL LIKE IT. STAY FABULOUS BITCHES...REID
Rahne shook her head, and Reid swore he almost saw the beginnings of a what could have been taken for a smile on the girl’s mouth. With a swish of his tail, Reid linked his arm through Rahne’s and together they set off for parts unknown.
Neither one looked back.