Polathrin's Ruins

Akio sat at the bow of the ship. Mia sat next to him, their legs dangling through the old wooden posts that were once a barrier. The top was long gone, perhaps burned for warmth, or maybe ripped off in a storm, but the posts were sturdy. Mia kicked her bare feet out to a rhythm and Akio breathed a sigh of relief. Every nightfall he could finally let his shoulders relax for the day, knowing that Mia was safe for another sorset.

It was hard not to look at Mia and still see her as the tiny five-year-old he had found all those years ago. He could still see her tiny, shivering form crying to herself. Fresh scrapes blooming with blood on her hands and knees with a rough black and blue bruise on her left cheek.

He blinked and the present collided with the past. She was about fifteen now, her length making her look awkward and clumsy. She had the same face she always had, except it was long and her cheekbones rose sharply where there used to only be baby fat. Mia was strong, but it was too hard to believe. Too long she had been the little girl, that he couldn’t imagine handing her a weapon, let alone teaching her to fight. Akio had started training with his father around five years old, yet Mia was a decade beyond that with no knowledge whatsoever. She was sheltered; guarded from all dangers and threats the world had to offer. How long would that work?

Akio shook his head, trying to let the thoughts fall from his head. There wasn’t a Fighter or Flesher he hadn’t been able to stop. As long as someone in the group was alive, Mia would be safe.

“The story you told about Sor was nice,” Mia whispered through her smile. “I like the idea of Sor. Getting rid of evil in the world…” She trailed off and Akio watched her face change.

“Why?” He asked.

“If Sor could get rid of all the evil Fighters, then you and the others wouldn’t have to leave the ship. We could be safe together.”

Akio sighed. “The story was just a story, Mia. Evil will always exist, but you don’t have to worry about us.” He smiled at her lightly. “We can handle ourselves.”

Mia let her fingers wrestle around in her lap as she watched them. “I know, but even Rozmo worries. I can see it in his face when you guys leave.” She paused to look up to the sky as Arji raced across, covering nearly the entire thing. “Plus, I know you guys are good. You don’t do anything evil.”

At this Akio felt his heart drop. Evil was not the word it used to mean. Murder and thievery were necessary. In the grand scheme, no, the group was not evil, but even Akio avoided thinking about the word. Just a couple months before Akio had slit the throat of a Fighter. She had charged at him, but it wasn’t like he had stopped to question her. Was it right? Was it the only way?

“Rozmo worries too much about everything,” Akio finished, biting his tongue as soon as the words slipped out. It was true, Rozmo chose to overly worry, just like his sister, but it was a response to end the conversation. He couldn’t explain the true complexity of this world because he barely understood it himself.

“Can you imagine living on Arji?” Mia questioned.

Akio smiled up at the planet, but inside his stomach twisted. It was a wonderful thought, but a cursed one. Imagining Arji was like believing Sor would kill all his enemies. He had never thought much of the planet as a child, though his parents were from there – as far as they had told Akio. His parents had many things they would offer and say was from Arji, with wonder in their voices and mysterious riddles in their speech. He could remember maps on the walls of his father’s study, and his mother loved to spin tales of foreign lands and warriors. They were connected to Arji, but too distant for Akio to understand. The daily training, the lessons in the new tongue, the stories of the world beyond reach, and none of it helped them to survive. The Great Blast came and wiped them out along with most of Polathrin. One moment Akio had his parents, and the next he didn’t. Their loyalty to a world that no longer wanted them was futile against the onslaught of violence from the mother planet.

He swallowed his guilt. It was hard to survive. There was always the pain of loss and the weight of grief, but what lingered worse was the question – why me? Why did Akio survive? Why could his parents not make it when five orphans crawled through the debris?

Six. Akio corrected himself. There were six of them, but now they were only five. Cerian had sacrificed everything for them. Akio reached for his left arm out of instinct, brushing a finger across the length of a scar.

“If there was a way to get to Arji,” Mia muttered. “Would you take it?”

Akio let his shoulders relax and looked back to Mia. She was curious, her big brown eyes waiting for an answer. “I would do anything to get you to Arji,” Akio answered truthfully. Nothing would ever make him happier than to see Mia thriving on a planet that didn’t want her dead. It was impossible, but it was his dream.

Mia’s lip turned up slightly, but she seemed sad. “I wouldn’t go without all of you. Ramza, Rozmo, Zak, and you. All of us together, no matter what.”

She reached out to grab his hand, and he was caught off guard by how warm it was. He grasped her hand back and tried to smile. She already knew the importance of the group, but she didn’t have the sense to think of herself before anyone else. He would have to teach her that as well.