The Sleeper and the Silverblood

Storm grabbed something to eat before crashing hard the rest of the day. As he dressed in his formal uniform the next morning, refreshed after catching up on his sleep, he texted Kitara about his travel plans, assuming she would be asleep already. He was surprised, therefore, when she responded almost right away.

While Storm waited outside the main building to catch the train to the portal building, he called her.

“Hey.” Kitara sounded groggy.

He smiled. “Hi. Sorry if I woke you.”

“I was only dozing,” she replied. “Did you talk to Dev?”

“I did.” Storm proceeded to recap the events of the morning…and his surprise visit from his friends the night before.

Kitara sighed. “Probably doesn’t hurt for the head of security to know what you’re doing, and Declan knew anyway,” she said. “Honestly, I’m a little surprised Alasdair wasn’t already aware of the Sleepers in his own facility.”

“Since they don’t really live in the facility, I guess the higher-ups didn’t think he needed to know.” Storm boarded the train car, taking a seat as the doors closed a moment later.

“Maybe. And Zayne too…” She shook her head. “I hope they know to keep their mouths shut.”

“They’re High Council kids, Kit. They know.”

He heard her smile. “True. I won’t lie; the extra support will be nice.”

The unmanned train stopped at several other buildings, the automatic doors opening and closing.

“How long will you be gone?” she asked.

“I’m hoping only a few hours,” he said as the portal building came into view. “If my dad catches wind of what I’m doing though…” He didn’t finish the thought. “Will you be out tonight?”

“Probably.”

He ignored the spear of subsequent unease. “Be careful. A bartender told me last night Netherlings asked him to drug me. If you’re discovered…”

“Assassination attempts are pretty common. That’s why we’ve got safeguards against it.”

Storm stepped off the train onto the platform just inside the portal building. “That doesn’t mean they couldn’t figure out another way to…you know…”

She snorted. “Do you know what the average lifespan is for Sleepers, Storm?”

“I probably should, but no. What is it?”

“Sixty-five years. There isn’t a Sleeper in AIDO history who’s lived to see triple-digits.”

“Stars and hellfire,” he muttered. “Now I wish you hadn’t told me.”

“Sorry. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

“If I get back tonight, I’ll come out, okay?”

“Sure. I’ll probably be at The Queen. Feels…safest there.”

Storm snorted. “Ironic.”

“I know.”

“I’ll let you know when I get back. But seriously, don’t—don’t take any unnecessary risks…if you don’t have to.” A tinge of concern echoed in his words.

“I won’t if you won’t,” she countered gruffly.

He smiled. “Deal.”

Storm might have lingered on the phone with her, except he faced the doors housing the Valëtyrian portals now, nearly running late. “I’ve got to go,” he said regretfully. “I’ll text you later?”

“Okay. Be safe. I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Okay.”

Storm forced himself to end the call and admitted himself into the portal security office.

After passing his preliminary clearance checks, a Guardian showed him into the inner room. “You’ve done this a few times, am I right, Major?” she asked, sounding amused; Storm’s silver irises gave away his identity even if the rank bars on his lapel didn’t.

“Yeah, I don’t need a refresher.”

She nodded. “Very good. Safe journey. We’ll see you when you return.”

Here’s hoping that’s sooner than later.

The Guardian left the room again, and Storm ascended the silver portal platform that would take him to Valëtyria. As he stood on the raised dais of the hardwired portal, a lacy, complex circular design glowed blue beneath his feet. He braced himself as time and space squeezed around him and in less time than it took him to inhale a breath, he was somewhere else: the Earth and the AIDO another dimension away.

The portal left him on what appeared to be the same dais, except the platform was white, not silver, and the room doubled the size of the AIDO’s chamber.

A light glowed a soft violet at the door. “Welcome back, Major Avensäel,” a female AI voice greeted him as the white door slid open with a whisper of sound.

Storm stepped off the platform and into the anterior chamber. Several immortals stood and saluted. They wore uniforms similar to his own—black and white, no gold.

“Major,” one greeted him warmly. “We were surprised and pleased by your request to return to Valëtyria.”

“Only temporarily,” Storm informed her with a grim smile before noting her rank designation on her uniform. “Lieutenant.”

“Well, we welcome your presence for any length of time.” Her cheeks warmed as he observed her.

He suppressed a smile. “I’m headed to Myragos for a bit, then I’ll return to the AIDO once my business is concluded there.”

“Very good, sir.”

Storm gave her a salute before leaving the building. “City” didn’t accurately describe the capitol. It was hardly a city. The expanse of buildings and people stretched as far as the eye could see. Most considered it an infinite realm, complete with the possibility to get lost in the vast expanse. Others thought it an illusion. Immortals only experienced the parts they needed—the parts they inhabited or worked in.

The roads bustled with activity. Restaurants and shops lined the streets while high-speed rail trains similar to the one at AIDO headquarters zipped around on the sleek tracks suspended high in the air. The rail system rose high, but the buildings soared higher: physics-defying structures of ivory marble seamlessly integrated with advanced technology more impressive than the AIDO’s. The sky ranged from hues of pale pink to purple to the brightest blue while the realm’s distinctive moon loomed low in the sky.

Immortals walked together, laughing and talking, displaying wings in every shade between white and gray. Most AIDO immortals kept their wings tucked away to save space and avoid knocking into things or other people in the more cramped underground space. But here, not wearing them seemed odd. Storm shifted as his own silver-white wings tumbled to the supernaturally clean ground beneath his feet.

He intended to head straight for the gleaming building housing the portal to Myragos, but he slowed and came to a full stop just outside another, taller building. He dithered for a long moment.

The double sliding glass doors displayed the building’s designation in silver and blue.

Long-Term & Critical Care Infirmary: Valëtyria

Dread and guilt warred in Storm as he read the words over and over again, to the point of nonsense, before finally making up his mind and entering through the sliding doors.

An angel wearing the all-white uniform of the Healers looked up from the front desk.

“Storm!” he greeted the silverblood warmly. “It’s been a while. Here to see your mom?”

“Hello, Markel, yes. Just stopping in for a few minutes.”

The angel rose to escort him. “I believe it helps. I like to think she can hear you even if you can’t…reach her, you know?”

“Yeah.”

Markel led him through a few hallways, and Storm avoided looking too closely at the immortals in the rooms beyond. This wasn’t just a healing ward or infirmary. This was the realm’s critical care unit—for immortals probably too far gone to save. Storm tried not to think about it.

The Healer stopped outside one of the larger rooms. “I’ll be up front if you need anything,” he said with an expression of sympathy. “Just buzz.”

“Will do, thanks.”

Storm walked into the room. The Valëtyrian Healers ensured all lighting resembled natural daylight as closely as possible, so the area was warmly lit. It didn’t help soften the harsh glow of the technology surrounding the frail figure in the bed, though. Crystal monitors stood on either side, providing bright, colorful imaging of the woman’s heart rate, brain function, and auratic strength, among other measurements.

Storm settled on the edge of the bed and took her hand, which wasn’t nearly warm enough. “Hey, Mom,” he murmured.

The Myragnar’s hair was a dull gray, not silver. Her skin had no glow, not even any color. She looked pale and wraith-like rather than vivid and striking. A transparent visor of glass curved around her face, sending measurements to the monitors.

“I wish you were here with us,” Storm continued quietly. “I could really use your help right now.”

His only response was the whispering sound of Ilythia’s chest rising and falling as she breathed. No beeping filled the room, just the almost imperceptible hum of the lights and equipment. The silence stifled him.

“I really should get them to put on some music for you, or something. It’s too quiet here.” Storm hesitated. “I…met someone. Well, you probably know her, since I think you were friends with her mom, too. Kitara Vakrenade? Moriah’s daughter?” He sighed. “I think you’d like her. You always respected strong people, and she’s…she’s extraordinary.”

He lowered his voice to an almost whisper, even though no one was listening. “There’s something…different between us. I tried to stay away from her at first, but I…well, it doesn’t matter. Dad blames Moriah and her family for…you know.”

He took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice steady. “Anyway, whatever this is, it’s…significant somehow. But now Ostragarn is after something to do with the Fallen, can you believe that? I’m heading to visit the others, hoping they’ll be able to tell me something.”

Storm’s eyes flickered to the screens in the room, the only indicators of hope she might one day revive. “I really wish you were here. I could use your insight, and Dad’s been…getting worse without you. We fight all the time now. We didn’t used to, but with you gone…he doesn’t want to let me go and I—”

He broke off, trying to swallow past the tightness in his throat.

“I wanted to make you proud, you know. To be half the Warrior you were once. But now…I don’t know what I want anymore. I don’t know who I am. Warrior? Silverblood? Handler? Mascot?” He shook his head, sighing. “Kitara—she centers me, somehow. And it’s making me rethink everything I thought I wanted. I just…don’t want you to be disappointed in me.”

Storm observed his mom’s pale, vacant face as a heavy weight settled in his chest.

“They say you’re in there somewhere. That you might be able to hear me. So I want you to know, I love you, Mom. I hope you know that. I’m not giving up.” He squeezed her limp hand in his gently. “Maybe it’ll be tomorrow, maybe it’ll be centuries from now, but I believe you’re going to wake up.”

He put his head down in his free hand. “Please prove me right. Please wake up.” His voice cracked on the last word.

The silence resounded as overwhelming as ever; the screens didn’t change.

“I’ll come back and see you soon.” He cleared his throat again. “Gotta go…violate a hundred Myragos security protocols, probably.” He gently placed her hand back on the bed.

As Storm retreated from the room, he didn’t dare look back for fear the long-stifled grief over his mother’s absence might undo him.