Melody slumps in her chair. Screens flicker. Eyelids droop. A machine pumps out a long sheet of paper. Fingers glued to the buttons. Her breathing deepens. Eyes close.

  Chuboki marches into the room. His eyes trail the screens, then he inspects the paper. He raises a brow. "You've translated this into simple terms." He glances at her, but she lies motionless in her seat. He huffs. "SAAF has withdrawn back to their sectors. The attack you mentioned was brutal. What were they doing out there?"

  He grabs her shoulder and shows her the paper. "You said they were searching for something?"

  Melody yawns and nods.

  Chuboki hums. "What were they after?"

  She snores.

  Chuboki shakes her. "Hey!"

  She jolts. "Huh?"

  He growls. "What were they after?"

  Melody chuckles. "Something big..." She stretches. "At first, it didn't seem out of the ordinary." She smiles. "Then I did a little digging and found..." She slouches over.

  Chuboki scoffs and sits her up. "What did you find?"

  She rubs her eyes. "They call it 3912."

  Chuboki drops the paper and picks Melody up. She looks up at him. "Chu..." Then dozes off. He carries her to her quarters and lays her in bed. He starts to walk away, but she grabs his hand.

  Chuboki flinches. His eyes dart between her hand and the bed. He clears his throat, then grabs a chair from the lounge and sits next to her. He watches her chest move, listens to her heart beat, and shifts in the chair.

  Nurses and doctors rush through the corridor. Where is everyone? Barthelemy’s memories… The Deaths… How many was it? He didn’t know. All he saw were bodies piling up. People I used to know. Others I never met. Seems like the only people left are Melody and Chuboki.

  Garza struts towards me. A green coat sways at her knees. She stops and crosses her arms. "So it's true?" She grins. "The mighty Zachariah has returned."

  A long time ago... I trained her when she was just a girl. Her green eyes hold the memory of those days. Back when I wasn't afraid... "It's nice to see you." I bow.

  She raises a brow. "What's that?" Her finger points at Nathaniel.

  I straighten up. "A baby."

  Garza grunts. "A baby? Who was dumb enough to knock you up? Don't tell me you're looking for someone to pawn him off on!"

  I chuckle and tilt my head. "That reminds me... Is Sisis still around?"

  Garza shrugs. "She's collecting samples in Z3."

  My eyes lower to Nathaniel. "Oh..."

  Garza clicks her tongue. "You here to teach or watch?"

  Teach? "Are there more healers?" Been a while since I've seen a healer.

  She snickers. "We've got a whole batch of them. Come on!"

  We walk down the corridor and step onto the elevator. She glances at me. "Are you...?"

  I look at the control panel. "Right." I press a button and we lower into the mountain.

  Garza puts her hands into her pockets. "I had a feeling you'd return. Didn't expect it to take this long. The Sentients are up our ass about disbanding. Suppose Barthelemy might cave soon."

  I stare at her. "You know?"

  She laughs. "Everyone knows, Zachariah. He's been hanging by a thread. That video your girl released sparked a huge wave against the Wyre and SAAF." She kicks her foot at a stain on the platform. "Nobody wants us here. If you're back, then it must be getting serious out there."

  Garza's no gossip. She's telling me this because she wants answers. I don't know what I can tell her. "The Wyre's numbers have dwindled again. I didn't come here to regain control over Pelaris. I came here to secure a team for Sector T."

  She scoffs. "Don't lie! The only reason you've come crawling back is because you miss the fight. That's the way you've always been."

  She's not wrong. I used to be hot-headed and stubborn, but that was the old me. Garza sighs. "I've been training them... Although nothing beats your methods."

  Nathaniel opens his eyes and looks at Garza. She wobbles, then falls to the floor. I grip my head. She gasps. "What is that?"

  My nose... Blood? Is he using his powers on her? I try to put him back to sleep, but he's resisting. I can't be here! I have to leave!

  Garza rises and pulls out a crystal. She places it on his chest. The feeling fades. She grips her stomach. "I see why you're needing assistance. Sisis will have a fun time examining him." She squints. "What is that?"

  The doors open. I step out and look at a large medical unit. Brown walls. Brown sheets. Green equipment. Tan curtains. Reminds me of the old days...

  Garza circles me. "You've got a strange blemish on your..." Her eyes widen. "Did the infant curse you?"

  I wipe my nose with my sleeve. "How could he do a thing like that? He's just a baby after all."

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  Garza stares. "If you say so..." She hums and leads me through the unit. "Over here we have our terminal patients. Most of them won't survive the week, so we're doing what we can to help them feel comfortable." People lie in beds. Their eyes glazed. Skin paper thin. Open sores. "And over here we have the non-serious injuries. Our nurses practice their skills under the supervision of our doctors."

  We enter a back room. A patient lies on an operating table. Garza leans against the wall and gestures for me to approach. I watch the doctors and nurses tend to a man whose ribs were shattered. Must've been a bad fight. Their instruments are precise. Removing. Clotting. Unclotting. Stitching. They have him put back together in three hours.

  I praise them for their success and follow Garza back into the unit. She huffs. “How many do you need?”

  Nathaniel chews on the crystal. I turn to her. “I didn’t come here to raise a new army or teach these people.”

  Garza rolls her eyes. “You came here to see if it’s what you remembered.” She stiffens. “Things have changed since you left. The Wyre is weaker. We’ve stopped attacking. Barthelemy has us on total defense.”

  I touch my chin. “The Axeheads…”

  She nods. “The injured are the lucky ones.” Garza turns away. “Without you to heal the wounded or accursed…”

  I know… “Barthelemy asked me to take over. He said he couldn’t do it anymore. I don’t blame him, but I’m not the man I used to be. How do I lead these people when everything's been taken from them? I can't inspire hope."

  Garza tilts her head. "The people don't need false beliefs, Zachariah." She whips around. “They need faith in the cause.” She ushers me to the terminally ill patients.

  Lesions… Gashes… Curses… This is just like the old days.

  Nine healers hover above a woman with horrible wounds. She’s in a lot of pain. A ball of light in their palms. A single thread in their trembling hands, weaving wounds shut. Threads snap. Wounds reopen. One of them looks at Garza and shakes their head. “The curse is too strong.”

  Garza glances at me. “Let them see…”

  I kneel next to the woman and sniff her… This curse is the same as the one placed on Melody. It shouldn’t be too hard to remove. I hand Nathaniel to Garza. She holds him at arms length and inspects him. I place my hand on the woman. A ball of light floats from my chest. Threads sip at her wounds. I draw the curse from her lungs. A black frog. I squash it. She moans. A look of relief. The wounds close. Threads blacken, then retract.

  The healers gasp, then bow. One with white hair begs me. “Teach us!” Then the others begin begging.

  Garza grins and lowers Nathaniel. “Do another one.”

  Six… Twelve… Eighteen… Thirty… A hundred…

  The unit has no patients left. I healed them in under an hour. Everyone had questions about the extent of my abilities. I'm still unsure of them myself. Nurses and Doctors aren’t always healers like me. Sometimes we train those willing to learn procedural medicine. Most of their experience comes from stitching their friends up. Healing a wound is one thing. To remove a curse is another. And to resurrect the dead? Only one other person has that ability… Rorno Auctis…

  What I do know is that if a Noble reaches adulthood without using their abilities, then their body cannot tolerate the amount of energy it would take to begin using them. It also shortens our lifespan. To be cut off from my gift… I can’t begin to imagine what that’d be like.

  If I lead a group into Sector T, then I’ll take only fighters. There’s also the issue of Barthelemy. I have no clue where I’ll place him. Maybe the tunnels where humans dwell. That means a journey to Z3… Lot of memories there. Like Barthelo, Barthelemy's father... Q'an... Nebula.

  I take Nathaniel back up the mountain. What are the soldiers like these days? If they're always on defense, then their experience will be minimal. SAAF doesn't make a move unless victory is certain. I claimed dozens of territories, liberating them from SAAF sovereignty, and in the time that I've been gone Barthelemy withdrew. SAAF sees most people as traitors and takes them as prisoners.

  Melody is close to understanding what happens in their prisons. If she keeps digging, then they'll see her as a threat and use her for their experiments. I don't want her to be captured. Maybe I should force her behind a desk. She'd probably rebel. Runaway. Put herself in danger.

  My office is dark. Should pot some plants. Wonder what Theresa's doing. Maybe I'll call tomorrow.

  I go to the bedroom. Barthelemy is still asleep. He shouldn't wake up, but I can't be too careful. Nathaniel coos. I stroke his face. What's it like to be cared for?

  Theresa acts like a mother. She isn't mine. All these years I've wandered, trying to scrape up any remains of the life I lived before. On the day that I woke up...

  Chirping… Vision wanes… Pink eyes… Voice choking… “Deal?"

  A field of grass swaying on the hillside. I'm alone. What is this place? My head hurts. That voice. She was... a deal? Someone's coming. A child. He stares. Do I know him?

  "Where's your clothes?"

  I look down. I'm nude. I scratch my chin and shake my head. He runs away. Where are my clothes? How did I get here?

  I cross through the field. The air is crisp. It's like taking my first breath. Flowers in full bloom. Breeze cuts through me. Is this my home?

  People follow. Whispers. Are they needing something? I turn. They flinch. An old woman approaches. What's that? She offers me something. It's soft.

  "Put it on."

  Wear it? I cover my self. She tugs me along. We arrive at a small place. I'm bathed. Fed. Pampered. Still, nothing fills me.

  Days. Gaps inside. Weather changes. Who am I? Rain. How did I get here? Flowers. Do I want to know?

  "Deal?"

  Who was she? What deal did I make? Why don't I remember anything?

  The people tell me stories of their village. The history of the land. How they've seen gods impose laws only to be snuffed out by a war. A war unlike any the cosmos had ever seen. The Blood War...

  Hooves beat the ground. The village stirs. I'm ushered from the hut and told to kneel.

  A woman... Pale eyes... Long black hair... Dark brown skin... Her robes drag on the ground... Feet bare... She looks down her nose, then anger pours from her eyes.

  Rorno never liked me. If I had to guess, it's because of who I was before I became...me. Whoever I am now.

  Zachariah. That's not my real name. Not the name I was given at birth, but waking up in that field was some kind of fracture. Feels like a dream... Like I'm still dreaming.

  Who is the woman in my dreams? Is she my real mother? Why did she hold me? To be her only friend. Is that enough? She didn't want to lose me. Yet, I got lost.

  I hug Nathaniel and stare at Barthelemy. What does he dream of? Sweet things? With no memories, what reels through his mind? He'll wake up and wonder... Where did I come from? Who are my mom and dad? What's my name? Why am I here?

  He wanted this. I gave it so willingly. And for what? To inherit the mess I made? If I could do it all over again... Must've been what I thought when I made that deal. Pink eyes. Was it Nebula? What would have led me to make a deal with her? Was it something awful? Did I do something wrong?

  Nathaniel stares at me. I smile. "You don't think I'm bad, do you?"

  All I know is that the deal I made brought me here.

  Greene carves several bars for a cradle. Micheal plays a game on his computer. Theresa stares out the window, looking at the purple eyes watching her from the shadows.

  A hand grabs her. She jumps. Greene chuckles. "You all right?"

  Theresa gulps, smiles, and searches for the eyes. They've gone. She nods to Greene. "I was just thinking."

  Greene pulls her into a hug and kisses her. "About what?"

  Theresa rests her head against his chest. "How much I love our family."

  Greene sniffs the top of her head. "We love you."

  She grins and closes her eyes. They sway in place. Theresa's smile falls away, then she opens her eyes to scan the shadows. "How many children has Zachariah raised?"

  Greene grunts. "Who knows? He's ancient!"

  Theresa hums. "He's not that old."

  Greene snickers. "200 years is a lot older than most of us. Don't think anyone's outlived him."

  Theresa holds Greene tight, adjusts her ring, and huffs. "He looks so young. Barely a man. Why do you think that is?"

  Greene lifts her chin. "Zachariah will be back soon. You can ask him yourself." He kisses her. "Help me with the crib for Nathaniel while you wait."

  Theresa nods. Greene goes back to work. She touches the window. Purple eyes appear. She gulps. "Soon..."