Re:Cursed

"So? You have to tell us." Ari leaned in from where she sat besides Dan. "What was it like in the Dark Star? Is it as horrifying as they say?"

Nyxil took a moment to appreciate that the question came from the only other young person to survive one of the disasters.

"Wasn't easy." It felt strange to say, now that she was in a place that was actually safe. "It's as if the Dark Star is sentient, with the sole desire to make life hard for you. If not for an early additive, I would have died the moment sleep first caught me."

"Really?" Dan asked, mirroring Ari's posture. "Must be a strong name."

Nyxil nodded. "Let me put off the need for rest." That effect of her eye could easily be passed off as a name, but her other mutations, not so much. "Unfortunately, it never let me feel rested."

Dan winced when he realised what Nyxil meant, and she couldn't help but smile at the sympathy directed her way.

"The Dark Star twisted the Fleshsmith Forge into an endless volcanic plateau, hiding a labyrinth of hot pipes below the surface. It was so many times larger than Coral, and I was there at least two years."

Ignoring their shock and disbelief, she pushed on, describing the inside of the disaster she'd faced. The fleshforged creatures. The heat. The fortress of fleshsmiths she had to avoid like any other monster. She did her best to keep her descriptions in line with truth, even if she had to skim past specifics that would raise questions about her mutations or the fact that she'd hunted the cultists.

It was strange, speaking of her experiences. To be somewhere safe enough that she could reflect. Only a few days ago — or what felt like it — Nyxil had no idea when the crucible would end. For all she'd known, there was another decade of fleshforged slaughter ahead of her.

Nyxil gripped the edge of the bedside table. Her heart suddenly fought her, trying to wrest control and accelerate to an unsteady tempo. It was as if just by recounting her time brought back the stress of the moment. Only her manual control kept her calm. Why was she panicking?

The metal table warped under her fingers. Ta'Stralanov'r's film broke, and her chitin momentarily peeked through. Thankfully, neither Dan nor Ari noticed.

Swallowing to clear her throat, Nyxil decided to bring the topic away from her time in the Dark Star. "So, I've heard the Trials were brought forward. Have you two got any plan going in?"

Neither would be pursuing the life of a harbinger, but the first couple of trials were applicable to all. Every kid their age group would be preparing. The only exception being those who didn't want to join a cult at all, and even they took part.

"Well… even if we have some idea of what to expect, we can't do more than become accustomed to our additives," Ari said. "I don't know what to expect from my own performance, but Dan's got this in the bag."

At Ari's nudging, Dan sighed. "I got a second additive. And it's synergistic with my first. But I guess that's nothing, compared to you." Despite his words, he seemed relieved, rather than jealous or frustrated.

Ari, sitting by his side, couldn't see his face to read the relief. "But having two additives still puts you well ahead of the average for our year's Trials."

Dan ducked his head, and Ari nudged him, glaring. It wasn't the hostile glare that Nyxil was far more accustomed to, but a friendly one. While it expressed her annoyance, the look contained an underlying reassurance that she cared.

Nyxil suddenly felt out of place.

Sure, she might consider these two friends, but compared to how they treated each other, Nyxil might as well be an acquaintance. They had reached out to her when no one else had. They'd spent mere days in her presence after she'd returned and no longer secluded herself in a misled belief that she wasn't worth it, but could she truly call them close?

No.

By all measures, Tarchon was closer than these two. Even if he was a grumpy machine.

And… Little God.

She needed that little eyeball back. There had been the hope he would reappear with the collapse of the Dark Star, but considering he hadn't shown up yet, that was now unlikely. If Euphoria was to be believed — massive emphasis on if — then Little God was still alive, but she would never see him again.

Nyxil was clenching her fist again.

If she wasn't careful, she was going to reveal herself not even a few hours after getting the tool that could keep her hidden.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

That in itself was another proof that these two weren't as close to her as she'd somehow worked into her mind. She didn't trust them to know of her mutations. Even though she knew they were cordial and nice to her, Nyxil couldn't believe they wouldn't tell the cults should they learn what she was.

That doubt alone might be what prevented her from ever getting as close as Dan and Ari clearly were, but it was an unfortunate reality. Not something she could risk. If she'd had a choice, she'd have never told Tarchon.

Even if she desired to eventually fly without restraint.

Little God had always known everything about her… even if he didn't know how to communicate it most of the time. She didn't remember much from when she was little, but she knew he'd always been with her. In her earliest memories, she had spoken to Eyeball. Back before the caretakers had instilled that talking to and acknowledging imaginary friends was dangerous.

Nyxil wondered if, somehow, Little god would still be here had she never convinced herself he wasn't real.

"So, Nỷx̱il," she was brought out of her thoughts as Ari tested her name. "You never clarified; did the Fleshsmiths abduct you?"

She nodded. "They found me in the Biovault." It wasn't a lie.

"What were you doing there?" Dan was suddenly on his feet, anger returning. "You knew they would be after you!"

The chitin of her hand finally released from the metal desk, and both her ward-mate's eyes snapped to the deep indent now marring its otherwise perfect finish. "I needed strength. After all that happened, I couldn't tolerate my weakness any longer. Because of my curses, I would die sooner or later. For one reason, or another. Back then, I'd realised that the only path I could take was that of the harbinger. Only with strength could I fight back the downsides of the curses," and the cults that would come for her.

"So you were hunting? Couldn't it have waited until you weren't in so much danger?"

"And when was that going to happen? It's not like I had cults lining up to offer their protection." She returned the boy's glare, and he wilted. "Waiting around while hoping for the best was never going to help me. I took a risk. I took a lot of risks. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have survived the Dark Star."

Dan couldn't look her in the eye after her outburst. She hadn't intended to act so aggressive, but having her motivations and efforts questioned — especially by someone who didn't know the whole story — agitated her.

After a few moments of staring blankly at the ceiling — struck by something Nyxil said — Ari snapped back and redirected the conversation. "Well if you're committed to the harbinger path, then that means you'll be taking the full Trials then?"

"Yeah. Do you know anything about them?" Nyxil probed.

She'd heard bits and pieces over her years of confinement, but it was never that much detail. So-and-so killed whats-his-face in that year's tournament. Surprise death of favoured up-and-comer in the first harbinger round. Really, just casual reminiscence of her captors.

"Nothing that will help you. Sorry." Ari shrugged. "Just that it isn't uncommon for people to die… or worse. I've been focusing more on the first two. At least in those, there's only a dozen deaths every year."

When it became clear that she wasn't about to elaborate, Nyxil had to nudge her. "And what happens in those?"

The girl seemed surprised she didn't know, but a look of realisation crossed her face and she murmured something under her breath before addressing the question. "In the past couple months — after we learned that the Trials had been brought forward — the overseers and caretakers told us what their's were like. Essentially, in the first trial, you get a choice of what category of challenge you will take. Depending on what's available, I'll go for artistic expression, piercing the veil, or something similar. Unfortunately, our elders' experiences vary too much to expect anything specific."

"The second trial is harder," Dan jumps in. "Or at least for those not on their second evolution already." He tried to offer a teasing smile, but it just came across as awkward. "It's a demonstration of your abilities in a given scenario. It's up to each year's Adjudicator whether it's a team, or solo exercise."

"That's not the only thing the Adjudicator can decide," Ari grumbled. "Dan and I are hoping there's nothing combat related, but we've heard stories from the caretakers. Considering the Adjudicators are often harbingers, sometimes you get those that don't think of anything but battle. They expect even the common creeds to be able to fight."

Nyxil caught herself agreeing with that sentiment. There was enough dangers looming just below the surface, that it was better if everyone knew how to defend themselves.

Well… unless they were cultists. Let them succumb.

A sudden scuffling and shouts down the hall turned every head to the door. Nyxil's hand was on her blade long before the stomping ended and their peace was disrupted.

Tru crashed into her room, only to find himself staring the length of a rapier down its razor edge. He gaped. His eyes unable to leave the weapon only millimetres from running him through.

Nyxil checked his soul, and upon finding only two names, stepped back. She sheathed her sword, but didn't let it go; he had barged in on them, after all.

Tru — the teen that had insulted her for not sucking up to that buddy of his — took a moment to realise the blade was gone. His sight found Nyxil, and a rapid fire of emotion passed across his face. Shock and disbelief. Fury. Confusion, with a dash of fear. Eventually he settled on pensive, while his eyes scanned across her body, locking onto her missing arm, her blade, her lacking foot, then back to her sword.

"How are you alive?" he asked it with the incredulity of someone who knew it was impossible. Without taking his eyes off her, he turned to Ari and Dan. "Has she been checked? It might be a skinwalker, or doppelganger."

"We've been talking long enough to know she's not a skinwalker." Dan was on his feet and beside Nyxil. "And look at her; would a doppelganger ever deviate from what we expect?"

The answer was obvious, but it didn't appease their intruder. The skitter spawn in his hair hissed at her, and Nyxil had the sudden urge to squish the summoned pest like she'd done to the thousands of others under Tarchon's home.

"How are you alive?" Tru repeated. "How did you, the cursed girl, survive when two hundred thousand Fleshsmiths died?"

"What?" Ari squeaked from the bed. "I thought they were still looking for survivors."

"They made it official earlier today," Tru said through gritted teeth. "The only survivors were those who went in to destroy the Dark Star. Nobody else."

It was an effort for Nyxil not to grin at the confirmation. Tru's suspicious glare only narrowed at her, as if reading her thoughts.

"Who are you?"