System Lost: My Own Best Friend

While Draga and Maari are busy securing our ride, Talla stays with me and forces me to eat breakfast despite still feeling queasy, sore, and miserable.

"You've got to keep your strength up, especially after using that skill," she insists. "Trust me, I know just how much of a double-edged sword accelerating your body can be."

I grimace down at the delicious looking meal—some kind of cereal porridge, I think—but the thought of eating anything turns my stomach.

"Shouldn't you be mad at me or something?" I grump. "I blew up your fricking car! I ruined your mission. You keep helping me, but all I do is ruin everything."

"Well, this is a side of you I haven't seen before," Talla comments. "Are you sure you're Allie right now?"

Frowning, I draw my knees up to my chest. "No. I mean—I guess I am. I don't really want to be right now."

"Then why are you in front?" Maggie complains. "Eva had things under control until we woke up."

"I hardly enjoy being held accountable for your misadventures," Evie replies. "Though I agree with Lady Talla, I didn't expect Miss Allie to sulk like this."

"Meh, Allie's got nothing on the sadsack world champion of moping," Mags argues.

"..."

I can hear Vi's silence. Maybe her depression is rubbing off on me, but I'm just in a bad mood! Is that not allowed?

"For frick's sake, can't I just be sad?!" I huff. "All I wanted was a nice night of good food, good drinks, good company, and at the end of it all a good comfy bed. I thought we were done fighting for our lives and getting hurt!"

"I'm sorry," Talla says softly. "I didn't mean to criticise. I'm not upset with you about the vehicle, though I'm sure my family is going to be irate about the clan drama it's going to cause. And I'll repeat as often as necessary that what happened at the convergence point wasn't your fault."

"Wasn't it, though?" I ask. "Why the frick am I here?! How many people have died for no other reason than that I exist? Maari has the right idea, getting us as far away as possible." I bury my face in my knees and sob quietly. "I want to go home."

"You don't even know where home is," Maggie says. "What's the point of getting homesick over a place you can't even remember?"

That just makes me sob even harder. "Shut up!" I cry. "I don't have the energy to deal with you being mean for no reason!"

"I wasn't trying to—" she starts to protest, but cuts herself off. "Never mind. Sorry."

"You didn't choose to be here any more than the rest of us," Talla says. "It's not a crime to exist."

"Tell that to the people hunting us," Violet replies darkly. "They sounded like religious fanatics, calling us 'demon.'"

"How dare you?!" Evelyn exclaims. "I promise you they had nothing to do with the church."

I clutch my head and groan. Normally I'd try to break up their fighting, but I don't have it in me.

"I don't care who they are, or what they want," I complain. "I just want them to leave me alone."

"I'm sorry," Talla says again. "We'll get to the bottom of it, I promise. But first, you need to eat!"

She presses the bowl of food into my hands, and I begrudgingly force myself to take a bite. It's already starting to get a bit cold, but it's thick and rich, and if I close my eyes it tastes just like oatmeal with brown sugar. It's familiar—a reminder of a home I can't remember that causes more tears to fall from my face.

I choke back another sob as I swallow the first bite. As the food hits my stomach, I have to fight back a small wave of nausea, but then my hunger wins out and I dig in. Talla just waits in silence for me to finish the bowl, then takes it back from me.

"Better?" she asks.

"No," I answer with a sniffle, but I take a deep breath and try to shake off the malaise. "But I think I'm ready to go face whatever stupid hecking nonsense this jerk of a world decides to throw at us next."

Talla chuckles softly and shakes her head. "You certainly have an interesting way with words, Allie. You're doing the best you can with what the Goddess has given you. That's all anybody can ask for."

So she keeps saying, but it feels wrong. The people who help us keep suffering for it, and even getting out of that miserable cave didn't let us escape all the death and violence. The people here all seem so accustomed to it too, and it's easy to see why.

I can't stop looking at it. The consequences of that horrible, bloody night. Yes, we did our best—well, mostly Violet—and it ended with us elbow deep in gore. And what has the Goddess given us, after all that?

[Level up!]

Incandescent Souls is now level 3.

Savior is now level 9.

+3 Power.

+3 Resilience.

+4 Resilience (Violet).

+3 Awareness.

+3 Ego.

+4 Ego (Violet).

* * *

I feel a little bit better after a meal and some proper hydration. Despite basically kicking us out of town, Maari continues to be a gracious host, even letting me take a real bath in a proper tub heated by more of those mana stones. I feel bad for being too down to properly enjoy it.

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She's been so nice to us, even after we made a huge mess of her town.

I mean...I guess it was just like one street. And we were getting kidnapped by murderous weirdos. Also we got arrested afterwards.

Okay maybe Lady Maari's generosity isn't that impressive, but she really has been nice. I hope we get a chance to meet again some time.

When Talla and I arrive at the harbor, Draga is already there speaking to a rather animated woman who's almost as buff as he is.

"I understand your concerns, Sir Ranger, but that's just how it works around here," I overhear her saying as we approach. "I'm happy to take your team to Stebaari as a favor to Lady Shaa, but I run my ship my way."

"I'm not asking you to do otherwise, captain," Draga says, already sounding a bit defeated. "But after last night's incident, you have to agree that a bit of extra caution is warranted."

"What's going on?" I ask.

Draga and the captain turn to face me, and the woman does a double take when she spots me.

"Goddess' tits! What in all her names is that thing?!"

I'm not sure how she spotted him under my cloak, but I chuckle and nuzzle Nipper between my cheek and shoulder.

"That's just Nipper. He's not scary."

"I'm not talking about your fucked up snake, girl," the captain scoffs. "I'm talking about your fucked up face. I've been up and down the entire length of Sagaa and around the whole continent and never once seen a creature as ugly as you. Even those scaled fuckers in the ringward jungles are less weird."

I frown, my grip on Vi's spear tightening just a bit. She's insisted we keep it on us ever since they gave it back, and truth be told, it's kind of comforting to have.

"Uh, rude?" I fire back. "By the standards of my species, I am a [certified baddie]!"

"Allison, what is that even supposed to mean?" Evie asks.

I don't know how to say it in Fa'aun, and I'm sure Talla's already loading up another lecture about using slang, but that's not the point. Heck, it's even a bit embarrassing saying something like that about myself, even if it's totally true and I'll fight anyone who says otherwise. But the sentiment gets across.

"Hah!" she lets out a single sharp bark of a laugh. "I bet you are!"

She sweeps her relatively short reddish brown hair behind her horns and trots forward to extend a hand.

"Captain Jira Faa Degala," she introduces herself.

I reach forward and place my hand over hers in what I now know to be the Fa'aun equivalent of a handshake—the same gesture Draga used to give Mags a heart attack that one time. Apparently it's an outdated greeting even by Evie's standards, though.

"You've got three names," I observe. "Like Talla."

"Heh, I'm surprised you got the handshake right," Jira says. "All Fa'aun have three names. The younger tribes have just forgotten theirs. And you? Got a name or two to share in return?"

She's testing me. I'm not sure what for, exactly, or why, but there's an expectant quality to Jira's tone, and the way she looks at me. She's one of the—well, I hesitate to say indigenous now, but the tribespeople that Draga was telling us about. The ones that Evie called "nomads."

"Allison Violet Magdalena E'ava'al'n," I introduce us all, even going out of my way to use Evie's full name, though I can feel her cringing at my butchered attempt.

Frustratingly, I can't actually remember my last name. Of all the weird things for my memory to be missing, that's got to be one of the most bizarre and oddly painful ones.

"Huh!" Jira responds. "And which of those are your given, family, and tribe names?"

"None," I answer. "They're all chosen."

"Excuse me, but my name is in fact given," Evie points out.

"Sorry," I correct myself. "Evelyn's name is given."

"Well. I think you're about the weirdest person I've ever met, and that's saying something," she laughs. "What shall I call you, tiny [baddie]?"

Oh! That's cute, she remembered the word I used. It seems like I've given her whatever she was looking for, but now it's my turn to push back. I hold up four fingers.

"Four people," I correct her. "We are Allison, Violet, Magdalena, and Evelyn."

I couldn't do Evie's full name a second time—it's hard, okay?

That gives the captain pause, but just for a moment before she bursts out laughing again. "Well shit! The weirdest four people, then. You must be the ones responsible for the ruckus last night."

I nod. "That was Violet."

"And you?"

"Allison," I answer.

"How do I tell you apart?"

I shrug. "Know us. Or ask."

"Heh, fair enough," she says. "So I'll ask again—what do I call you?"

This time I'm the one who misses a beat. "Uh, Allison?" I hedge. "I just told you. Or Allie—since I know that's easier for you to pronounce."

"How generous, Miss Allison," she drawls, deliberately sounding out my name. "But I meant all of you. You say there's four, but I see only one. That there are many within, I accept, but what do I call the one I see? If I want to speak to you as a whole, what should I call you?"

I frown. I...hadn't thought of that. And until now, nobody else has ever asked. What should we call ourselves? Before, I might have just said that I'm Allison and the others are alternate "me"s. Even now, part of me wants to resist the idea of a collective identity, but it would probably be more convenient to have something that all of us can answer to. Something that people can call us if they aren't sure. Heck, it's bad enough if someone mixes up Vi and Mags, but I think if anybody mistook Evie for Maggie, it would probably end in violence.

"I don't know," I answer honestly.

"Then it would seem to me, little [baddie], that you've got one more name to choose yet," the captain says matter-of-factly, before turning back to Draga. "You can interview my new hires, Ranger, but I'm not setting out without a full crew, and I get final say on who comes aboard, fair?"

Draga ducks his head graciously. "I can accept that. Thank you."

She scoffs and walks away without replying, deftly skipping up the gangplank to her ship—a fairly impressive looking sailboat that I have absolutely no way of categorizing.

"What was that about, anyway?" I ask Draga, since Jira never actually gave me an answer.

"Ship crews come and go," Draga explains. "Every time a vessel like this one makes harbor, it drops some crew and takes on new ones. It's pretty standard—as is taking on passengers like us. I'm worried that our mysterious pursuers will try to infiltrate the ship, but Captain Jira won't budge on replenishing her crew."

"Oh. Uh, sorry for interrupting your negotiations."

He shakes his head. "If anything, you seem to have helped somehow. I'm not sure what about your exchange convinced her to soften up her stance, but until you came along she wasn't even willing to let me get involved."

I frown—that is weird. I think I made an okay impression, but I don't see how that would change her mind.

"Are you sure it wasn't just Talla?" I ask. "She is a noble and all."

Talla shakes her head. "The tribes consider clan Baanu to be just another tribe. They don't respect our authority and scorn attempts to wield it. I'm a bit surprised Maari would choose her, to be honest."

Huh. Oh well.

"Say, what do you think we should call ourself?" I ask. "As a group, I mean. Like she suggested."

"You don't have to do that," Talla sighs. "The tribes can be weird about names."

"No, I think it's a good idea," I insist. "And I'm open to suggestions."

"Hey, I've got an idea!" Maggie cuts in. "How about we call ourselves—"

"We are not introducing ourselves as [certified baddie]," I interrupt, knowing Maggie far too well by now.

"Tch," she mentally crosses her arms and scuffs at the ground, pouting. "Fucking spoilsport."