“The first violin strings were made from the intestines of farm animals.

  Typically domesticated ones.

  The guts had to be fresh, collected directly after the slaughter, and then quickly washed. The outer membrane was then scraped off, typically with a blunt metal knife, which obviously isn’t used anymore. This left only the submucosal layer of the intestine, which has the strong, stretchy fibers required for the string.

  The cleaned strands would then be soaked in a harsh chemical bath that softened the fibers and preserved them, as well as sterilizing them and breaking down any unwanted tissue. The guts were stretched and twisted after this. By twisting multiple strands together at once, the strings could ultimately be as thick as the maker desired.

  Oh, and if you’re wondering, the strings were only dried of the chemicals after they were twisted.

  Weird right?

  What’s even weirder is that the drying took multiple days, and someone would usually have to watch it happen. Once they were done drying, though, they were polished, and after all of it, the washing, the scraping, the bathing, the twisting, the drying, and the polishing, sometimes the strings were varnished with metal resins to help with weight and playability, which obviously we can’t do anymore.

  This all makes me wonder...”

  Cassandra set down the book to view the mortified face of her classmate.

  “How are violin strings made now?”

  Something has always been wrong with me.

  The theater’s audience holds its applause as Cassandra Soryu places the wooden instrument on her shoulder.

  I don’t know if it’s because of what she put me through.

  Vanessa leans back in her private viewing room, sipping a glass of wine, her typical choice for these concerts.

  But I can tell from the way I speak to the way I move, to the way everyone looks at me.

  The eyes of the audience burn into Cassandra. Her grip tightens on her bow as she rests it over the strings.

  Something is wrong with me.

  The first note echoes in the theater.

  Cassandra’s fingers tremble as she begins to play.

  “Repeat after me.”

  Vanessa placed her hand on the folded white cape with velvet edges as the senator spoke.

  “I do solemnly swear.”

  The entire council chamber carefully watched from above.

  “I do solemnly swear.”

  Cassandra stood by the woman who proclaimed to be her Mother and now proclaimed to be the leader of an entire planetary government. Her Father gripped her hand.

  “To uphold all aspects of the law.”

  He told her to be strong before all this, but his hand was shaking more than hers.

  “To uphold all aspects of the law.”

  The white militaristic uniform itched Cassandra’s skin. How could Vanessa wear it without feeling uncomfortable?

  “To protect all of humanity and its allies.”

  It was hot inside the council chamber. Cassandra couldn’t wait to get out of there.

  “To protect all of humanity and its allies.”

  Something sounded odd in Vanessa’s voice, but Cassandra couldn’t tell what it was.

  “To preserve the Republic.”

  Tendo’s grip tightened on Cassandra’s hand. She didn’t know why.

  “To preserve the Republic.”

  Cassandra’s eyes wandered up to the audience of the council chamber. It was as if they were all judging her.

  “So help me, gods.”

  Vanessa held back her enthusiasm. She needed to be professional. She couldn’t mess this up.

  “So help me, gods.”

  Her voice sounded odd again. Cassandra yet again couldn’t tell why. It always bothered her how storybooks would describe characters as speaking with emotion. How can someone speak with emotion?

  Do they just yell?

  Vanessa removed her hand from the cape. The senator grasped it, unfolding the fabric as the council chamber watched in anticipation.

  Cassandra’s eyes met Vanessa’s as the cape was placed on her back. Cassandra averted her gaze as the crowd cheered.

  Vanessa raised a hand to the roof of the chamber. “Thank you!” She yelled to the audience. “This is all because of you!”

  The next notes are swift and sharp. They sing, rising high and low. Cassandra could do this with her eyes closed.

  Her bow glides across her violin with a trained, elegant precision that took years to master.

  Hard work beats skill, Cassandra thinks as she begins to sway with the music. But not too much.

  Mother doesn’t like that.

  “We have to keep up appearances,” Vanessa coldly stated at the edge of the wide living quarters.

  Cassandra had never been anywhere that nice or sat on a couch that big before. Tendo sat next to her. “I guess this is how presidents live.” She said to him as Vanessa coughed to gain their attention, “I want the girl enrolled in an academy.”

  Tendo stood, “Well…”

  “I didn’t ask for your input, Tendo. Sit back down.” Tendo sat at Vanessa’s order. Loeb glared at him, tugging at his sleeves.

  “I want her to attend a public academy, Loeb, but one with a good track record. We all need to be seen by the public. We need to be an average family that embodies the values of the Republic.” Vanessa towered over Cassandra.

  Her cape and amber hair seemed to make up her entire figure, giving her the appearance of an inhuman creature glaring down at the helpless child.

  “If you speak ill of me in any way,” Cassandra noted how Vanessa’s voice became odd again. Was she speaking with emotion?

  “There will be consequences.”

  After going high and low for the opening, the song eases into a steady rhythm.

  This is the most difficult part, or as Cassandra calls it, the fun part.

  Vanessa yawns, taking her eyes off the wine to briefly watch the performance before glancing away.

  “I know who your Mom is!”

  The girl laughed in the schoolyard, pointing at Cassandra, who was quite overdressed in comparison to the other children who wore the t-shirts and cargo shorts that she once considered to be high fashion.

  “Who?” Cassandra asked. “Don’t play dumb, dummy!” screeched another girl just a year older than the other. “Yeah!” The previous girl spoke up, “Your Mom is the president!”

  Cassandra shrugged, resuming her newfound pastime of pressing a stick into the dirt. “Teacher said it’s rude to not look at people when they talk to you, y’know.” The older girl stated.

  “Alright.” Cassandra continued to poke the ground. The stick bit into the dirt until it hit stone.

  “I’m Mitika. The grumpy one is my sister Evelyn. Your name is Cassandra, right? Can we be friends with you?” The first girl asked with a wide smile, kneeling down in front of Cassandra’s face.

  “Why?”

  The older girl huffed, “Because your Mom is the president, dummy! And she’s rich!”

  “Ohhh, do you think she’ll buy us stuff! I want a Grogrung!” Mitika slammed her hands onto the dirt. The stick fell over at the impact.

  “I’ve never had friends before.” Cassandra stared at the stick, mourning its fall. It was an odd thing to do, sure, but planting that stick in the dirt made her feel like she was accomplishing something.

  The stick was helping her accomplish that; now it had been toppled over, and these girls simply did not care in the same way she did.

  “That’s sad.”

  “Is it?” Cassandra questioned, confused.

  “Of course it’s sad! Everyone should have friends!”

  There’s that odd voice again. Cassandra looked at Mitika, whose eyes were stabbing into her. Cassandra stood, leaving the stick dead on the dirt. “Why do I need friends?”

  The youngest girl leaped up, “So you can play games and talk about the stuff you like and whatever!”

  The gaze of the older girl made Cassandra’s skin crawl. She decided to direct her attention to Mitika, “I don’t like games.”

  “What do you like then?”

  Cassandra brightly smiled at the question, “I like the Scorched Archer.”

  “Who?”

  Cassandra takes a deep breath as she moves the bow more rapidly across the strings and

  glances at her sheet music.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  The song is about to pick up momentum. The writer of the piece wanted the song to match the intensity that he felt on the battlefield when he saw her for the first time.

  Cassandra hides a smirk as she imagines flames bursting from her bow just as hers were said to.

  I’m you. She thinks as she reads the name of the piece again, just so she can channel her further.

  Born in Blood and Fire.

  I’m you, Nadeden. Cassandra closes her eyes and lets the music take her away.

  “Why do you insist on failing my class?”

  “What?”

  “Look at me when I talk to you, Cassandra.” Professor Harland crossed her arms as she stood over the girl’s desk.

  Cassandra closed her book and lifted her head.

  She’s upset. Cassandra was able to recognize the emotion now. She had gotten used to seeing it on Vanessa.

  “You don’t seem like you want to learn, you’re so passive to everything. When I asked you to stay after class, all you did was pull out a book.”

  Cassandra nodded, “It’s a good book. It's about when the Scorched Archer shifted her allegiance and-”

  “I’ve been told that history is the only subject you do well in. Why is that? Does mathematics just not interest you?”

  Cassandra met Harland’s eyes. She quickly turned her head, feeling something strange and uncomfortable creep over her. Almost like the eyes themselves were burning her as they searched her soul.

  Harland sighed, “I guess I just expected more from you, Cassandra. Considering who your Mother is.”

  Cassandra’s hands tightened around her book.

  She wanted to tell her.

  She wanted to scream it out.

  But she knew what would happen if she did so.

  So she kept quiet.

  Cassandra opens her eyes to gaze up at Vanessa.

  She nearly skips a note as she notices that her Father is absent today.

  Her knuckles turn white as she continues to play.

  Half of the audience is on the edge of their seats. She’s doing something right. She just has to push forward to the other half.

  You always pushed forward, didn’t you, Nadeden? Cassandra wonders, knowing full well the history of her hero.

  Of course you did. It’s the part of you that I admire the most.

  “Dad?”

  Cassandra stepped over to her Father, who stood silently on the balcony of the castle, gazing out at the horizon.

  He turned to her with a smile that even Cassandra could tell was strained.

  “Cassandra? Is-”

  “She’s gone for now, private matter, she said.”

  Tendo took a deep breath, his whole face trembling under the weight of it as he wiped sweat from his brow at the words. “Thank the gods,” he laughed. “What do you need, kiddo?”

  Cassandra gave her best attempt at a warm smile as she leaned over the balcony. “I’ve been having trouble at school. I didn’t want to tell Vanessa-”

  “Don’t call her that,” Tendo harshly whispered, holding out his hand, frantically scanning the stone structure.

  “I know you’re scared, but she’s not even here.”

  Tendo pulled himself away from the balcony at his daughter's vain effort to reassure him.

  “That’s what she wants you to think. That’s what she wants everyone to think. Everything is perception, Cassandra. You need to keep yourself hidden. You can’t go causing any trouble or drawing attention to yourself. Do you want to live on the street again?”

  Cassandra clutched the balcony’s railing. “Maybe.” She muttered without a second thought.

  Tendo shook his head, “You don’t know what you’re saying, kiddo. Fate is not in your favor unless you continue to be your Mother’s daughter. Maybe-” He walked back into the castle, “Maybe you’ll understand one day,” he stated, leaving Cassandra alone under the night sky.

  A Man in an aisle seat suddenly awakes from his half-slumber as Cassandra hits a high note.

  A Woman in the back row leans forward as she brings it back down to low one.

  A Martian crammed between two strangers taps his foot to the rhythm.

  Vanessa yawns again.

  “Hey, Cassandra!”

  “Mitika?”

  The girl gave her a suffocating hug in the middle of the school library. Cassandra pushed her away, although she really didn’t want to.

  “Sorry, I know you don’t like being touched, but I can’t help it! It's your big day after all!”

  “My what?”

  Mitika playfully frowned, placing her hands on her hips. “Y’know, I usually stand up for you when people call you stupid, but you actually might be if you can’t even remember your own birthday.”

  Cassandra panicked, feeling flattered but also embarrassed. She blushed as she stumbled on her words, “That’s right, my… uh. Erm.”

  Mitika smiled as she found a seat to place an extravagant bag down on. “Don’t worry. You always remember mine and my sister’s, so it’s fine.”

  She was joking? Cassandra asked herself as she sat across from the bag. She enjoyed Mitika’s company, sure, but like most people, she’s confusing and often difficult to understand. However, she was very expressive. That at least made things a little easier for Cassandra.

  She gave a shy smile as Mitika elaborately moved her hands over the bag in a theatrical fashion. “I bet you’re wondering what’s inside!”

  Cassandra chuckled, “I thought the bag was the present.”

  Mitika laughed as she opened the bag, “No…” She humorously drew out the word as she pulled out the contents of the bag and laid them on the table as carefully as she could.

  “It’s a-”

  “It’s a Violin!” Mitika shouted it out like a cheer before the librarian on the opposite side of the room shushed her. Mitika stuck out her tongue in response as she placed a hand on her friend's shoulder, whispering in a careful tone, “And a Violin bow.”

  Cassandra reached out to touch the instrument. She picked up the bow first.

  “Evelyn told me about that book you were reading. It really grossed her out, but I thought it was cool.”

  Cassandra rested the violin in her lap, adjusting the strings as she did so. She pressed the bow against them, too scared to make a sound.

  “Promise you’ll play me something? Once you learn, of course.” Cassandra resisted the urge to tell Mitika that she had only read that book and told Evelyn those facts simply because she found them fascinating, and that she wasn’t interested in learning an instrument at all.

  She also pushed down the desperate need to explain herself and say that she isn’t sure what to do at moments like this.

  Instead of doing any of that, she looked into Mitika’s eyes and said, “I promise.”

  The entire audience is on edge as the momentum picks up again.

  The notes are more intense now.

  The sound sharper.

  It will all be over in a moment.

  A fist struck Cassandra’s eye, knocking her and her books to the tile floor as the other students carelessly passed by them.

  “Whoa, I didn’t know you were gonna punch her, Ariana…” A girl in a pink skirt gasped at her friend, who laughed, “Ha! Serves freaks like her right. I’m sure her Mommy can afford to pay for a doctor if she gets hurt.”

  Cassandra huffed, standing up and straightening her clothes without even crying or touching her black eye.

  “See!” Ariana pointed with a gaping jaw, “She is a freak!”

  “Pain is fuel.”

  “Huh?” The girls gawked at Cassandra’s remark.

  “Pain is fuel. It’s one of the Scorched Archer’s earliest quotes. She said it during the battles of Tolka when she was only six years old.”

  Ariana rolled her eyes, whispering to her friend, “That stupid serial killer is all she cares about.”

  Cassandra walked away muttering to herself, “Nadeden isn’t a serial killer.”

  Ariana sprinted forward in the crowded hall and tripped Cassandra. She fell flat on her face. Her books fell with her.

  “She killed my Grandfather!” Ariana shouted, drawing the attention of the hall. “How can you love a traitor like her when your Mom is President?”

  “She isn’t my Mom,” Cassandra blurted it out without thinking.

  She didn’t even yell it. The words just came out on instinct.

  Cassandra clutched her mouth as the eyes of the entire hall stabbed into her.

  Mitika rushed out from the crowd to lift her up and run her to the Professor’s lounge. She hastily unlocked the door with one of her tentacles, just like she was trained to, and sat Cassandra down inside.

  Cassandra watched as her friend collapsed in tears with her arms around her. “Gods, Cassandra. All you had to do was not say one thing! One thing!”

  “Mitika?” Cassandra leaned forward.

  Mitika took her hands off her and backed into the wall as her skin began to glow. “She took my other sibling. Evelyn and I didn’t want to do what she said, but she would have killed them otherwise. She paid us, Cassandra. We were going to be rich. It was the easiest job ever.”

  Cassandra’s heart sank as she watched Mitika’s glowing skin slowly fade away into tentacles that folded away into a translucent sphere. “It was the best job, ever.”

  “Mitika…” Cassandra rose from the small chair, lifting her hand up to the Lungoza.

  Mitika floated down and buried themself in Cassandra’s arms.

  “You’re a good kid, Cassandra. Please, whatever happens, don’t let her break you, don’t let Vanessa-”

  “That’s quite enough.”

  Mitika floated to Evelyn’s side, joining her at Vanessa’s shoulder.

  “Let’s go home, darling.”

  A storm surged within Cassandra. Her eyes watered as her hands twitched.

  She was upset. Upset by all of this. But she wasn’t sure if this was even real. If any of this mattered.

  She wanted to do something. Anything, if only to drive this swirl of emotions out of her.

  “Why?” She asked with emotion.

  “Why?”

  Vanessa coldly stated, “Because I could.”

  Cassandra swings the bow off the Violin, letting out a gasp as the last note is drawn out.

  Sweat drenches her whole being as the applause hits.

  She bows as the theater rises in a standing ovation. How much did she pay all of you, she thinks, still catching her breath.

  How much does it cost for you to fill a theater, Mother?

  The two Lungozas remained silent as Vanessa walked Cassandra through the suddenly empty halls, forcing her to leave her books and her friends behind forever.

  “I hope that now you understand,” Vanessa huffed as the academy doors closed. “You’re mine, Cassandra. I made your entire life, and I can take it all apart in a snap of my fingers.”

  She kneeled down to meet the crying girl.

  “You think that I wanted to do this? That I delight in the sadness of poor little girls? I don’t. My image is what matters, Cassandra. My shadow over this universe is what keeps all this from falling down. I can’t have you or anyone else exposing the illusion that casts that shadow. Look at me when I speak to you!”

  Cassandra turned her head, her lips quivering, “I hate you.”

  Vanessa nodded her head and took Cassandra’s hand, leading her away.

  “I do too, girl. I do too.”

  Cassandra scans the audience one last time.

  Her Father is still absent.

  She scowls as she walks backstage to place her violin back in its case and return her sheet music.

  She did at least get to choose the song for her coming-of-age concert.

  It's her last performance as a bachelorette and her first as an adult, or as she’s thinking of it, her last performance as a free woman in a free galaxy.

  She slings the violin case over her shoulder. Loeb watches her the whole time. He snorts as he holds the exit open for her.

  Cassandra keeps her head down as she steps out into the hall.

  “It sounded great.”

  “Thanks, I guess,” Cassandra passively replies to the comment as she continues down the hall.

  She circles back and lifts her head after replaying the admirer's voice in her mind.

  It’s impossible. She can’t believe what she’s seeing.

  The Lungoza floats down and places a tentacle on her shoulder before slowly folding it away.

  “Sorry, I know you don’t like being touched.”

  Cassandra remains frozen and silent in sheer disbelief.

  “I missed you, Cassandra.” Mitika glows with a warm light as Cassandra recoils in shock.

  “Mitika?” Her voice is faint. “What are you doing here? I thought that-”

  The stomp of high-heeled boots and the flutter of a cape seizes Cassandra’s attention. She’s almost relieved by Vanessa’s arrival, but she is far more relieved to see that her Father is safe, well as safe as he can be, standing next to Vanessa at least.

  “I wanted to remind you what I’m capable of.” Vanessa snarls, folding her arms. “The little Division boy told me about your plan.”

  Cassandra goes pale at the statement. Adamus is a spoiled brat, but she never expected him to rat her out.

  “However…” Vanessa’s overly dramatic sigh gives Cassandra a glimmer of hope, “He did some digging of his own, and if you are to marry him, I suppose that he should know that you aren’t actually my child. I have my own game that I’m playing at, but I need to know something right now if I am to win it,” She glides forward, staring down Cassandra.

  She shoves down every bodily instinct that tells her to flinch at Vanessa’s approach.

  “Will you marry the Atheneum boy without any resistance?”

  Cassandra gazes into her Mother’s eyes. She blinks before giving a “Yes” and a nod.

  Vanessa steps back, twirling her cape as she walks toward the hangar. “Very well, say your goodbyes now, we’ll be leaving for Rome soon.”

  Tendo holds his gaze on Cassandra, debating if he should say anything before following Vanessa.

  Mitika hovers over Cassandra’s shoulders, “Cassandra?”

  “Was it real, Mitika?”

  “What?”

  Cassandra hangs her head at Mitika’s question. “Forget it. I don’t want to know.”

  Cassandra leaves the Lungoza hanging somberly in the air behind her as she makes her way toward the hangar, deciding that it’s best to simply maintain the illusion.