Halfblood by TobiMercer | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

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Chapter 21 - "Wretches and Kings"

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“I was born like this. I don’t know why my eyes look this way.”

Wham!

“Well don’t. You’ll survive longer if you don’t.”

Wham!

“I’m a halfblood! There, are you happy!? I’m one of you, but even then I’m a freak! I can’t transform, I can’t control myself, I can’t do anything but hurt and maim and be feral!! Tears were streaming down her face despite the defiant, aggressive stare that dared me to pass judgment.

Tears down my face as I argued with those who raised me. Argued that I was ready. Screamed about my deficiencies in the eyes of my world.

Wham. Wham. Wham.

My fists hurt. The knuckles were about to split.

She knew why the Keepers were after her and didn’t want to tell me.

She was frightened by the Orifi and trusted me when I defended her.

Orifii paid for someone to go get her. I didn’t give her up then, either.

Wham wham wham wham

The elf that, moments before somehow threw a man twice her size across the lobby without blinking, was now small and terrified in a corner, silent tears starting to pour. Her body was paralyzed, a look of shock and confusion on her face.

  Her voice was small and quiet. “It happened again. I lost…just…I was so angry…” Her silver eyes pleading. “What’s wrong with me?”

  Layla slowly reached out and took my hand.

WhamWhamWhamWham

Anger. Fear. Rage. Guilt, sorrow, paranoia, accusations, and sheer panic. They stumbled over one another until her knees gave in and she crumpled. She hit the floor with a thud, continuing to stare up at Rod while everything began to liquify and pour down her cheeks in the shape of tears.

Echoes of my own pain rang through me, memories of grief taking shape as she started to struggle for breath. If it was anything like what I experienced, I realized, she had skipped through all the important steps of grief and went straight to revenge. She had never stopped, never thought about anything other than that anger.

“Why do you care!?” she burst, arms and shoulders curling inward. “You’re not doing any of this for me, why should I do anything for you!?”

Blood trailed down my skin. Spattered on the wall. My wrist, arm, elbow, shoulder screamed. Fractures that weren’t allowed to heal from the repeated punches. I screamed for a moment. Switched hands.

Glowing sword that has an intimate connection to her. Magical. Similar to the kind I gave up after coming here.

Wham

“When I brought this to my family, they stumbled over their excuses and tried to take it away from me. Luckily that’s when I met Darius and he helped me liberate the sword, get away from them, and do a basic translation. According to him, the words identify why my father was killed and who I can go to for closure. He said he couldn’t make out the exact translation, and he’d need help, which is where we were going.” She shot a look at me but didn’t say anything more.

After a moment of silence, Rod walked up to her and motioned for her to put the sword back into the light. It lit up, the symbols reappearing. He glanced up at her. “This belonged to your father.” She nodded. He pointed at her ears. “You’re the same base species as he?” She nodded again. “Yet…you can’t read this?”

A blue-purple color spread across her cheeks and nose, cheeks puffing out in annoyance. “I was born here,” she snapped. “It’s not my fault they only taught me Terran!”

He nodded, looking down at the blade. “Did Darius tell you where, exactly, you were going to get it translated?”

She shook her head. “That’s why I need him back. So I can finish off those responsible for his death and finally put this to rest.”

Whamwhamwham

Fingers were getting bent wrong. Knuckles crunching. Skin splitting on this hand too.

“I’m sure you both know about the locks on the portals leading to home?” Rod and I nodded. “Did you also hear the rumors about a special half-blood who could remove those locks?”

“They killed him for it. Over a rumor.”

Whamwhamwhamwhamwhamwhamwhamwham

Hands numb. Nerves were wearing out. Both shoulders screaming. Lungs and core screaming alongside them. Me screaming.

Hands needed a moment. Healing needed to happen. I took a few steps back and reared up. Began kicking the hole deeper.

Tears began to well at the edges of her eyes as she began to panic, clutching at the wall behind her so hard her knuckles began to turn white. I gave a half-nod of satisfaction, approaching her slowly. My voice calmer now, as soft and comforting as I could make it, I said, “tell us the truth, cubling. For your sake.”

She met my eyes now, tears rolling down her cheeks as she stumbled over the words. “He’s…he’s…” She shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t.”

“Can’t control your shifts?” She nodded. “And Darius…he helped you.” 

“This place was alive once,” Layla said firmly, “and you will respect it.”

“This place hasn’t been alive in decades,” he answered as firmly. “And I’ll treat it as I always have.”

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The wall was giving. Bit by bit. I had more left. I reared back for another kick, feeling returning to hands.

I shouldn’t have been up here. I should have been hiding, or getting ready to hide. Go back into the gas station and talk to Rod. Something. But I had been cooped up in the Keeper’s hands for longer than I liked, then pulled out to track down and betray one of my own only to be chased from one point to the next and forced to drag an unenthusiastic cubling behind. I needed space. I needed air. I needed time to breathe and watch the sky.

I needed time to consider if I was going to leave her in Rod’s capable hands and ditch this whole venture. She already didn’t trust me completely, and I didn’t exactly blame her. It would be safer for her and for me if I just walked away right now.

The ones who killed her father weren’t after him. They weren’t after her. They got their signals crossed. I flashed back to the creature that pointed at us in the lobby. Pointed at me.

“No,” he answered evenly. “But you did lie. And hide. And stole yourself some skin to make it convincing. Eventually she’s going to find out who and what you are, Nesa Ashi.”

I stopped. My knee and leg bones were fractured. Possibly broken. I had been screaming and crying even as I pushed. Even as I knew I would heal. Even as I healed. My hands were almost good again in that short time, feeling returning. I was one giant pulse of pain, body throbbing as I stumbled back and landed on my ass. Screamed from my core. Took a moment to breathe.

The memories were coming in spurts. Her tears, her pain, how it was way too close to my own. I was a half-blood back home, but not like this. Not like her. I was child of two different Elewnai clans, which meant both accepted me but neither saw me as anything useful. Anything worth acceptance.

I was taken in by the Umatoe, warriors from the north. I learned mostly from them. When I felt I was ready, I wanted to go back. To reclaim my place among my birthland. They weren’t sure I was ready. We fought. I left.

I found truth. Truth had burned me. They killed themselves trying to calm me, and it worked. But the sacrifice, the calm that came with it, was a heavy price. Eventually I fled here. This planet didn’t know me, didn’t know what I had done.

But my sister. Not a blood sister. An Umatoe that was a part of the family who raised me. She had followed me to earth. Tried to make things right with me. I had ignored her, believed myself to be a monster.

And she had died while I looked the other way.

Layla and I were not the exact same, it was true. But it was close enough. Her pain, forced isolation, drifting and untrusting of others. I knew the look in her eyes. And if I could contact myself back then I would tell her. Tell her that the only fix to the things she felt was acceptance. Acceptance of truth. Monsters don’t question if they’re monsters, and don’t lament over monstrous things.

Monsters don’t cry.

I had found truth once. I had run from it. I may have been too far from my own truth to reclaim it. But Layla…The girl wasn’t too far gone. She deserved something better than gaslighting, in the very least.

I would defend her the way that no one defended me.

My hands were stitched together enough. I stood and flexed them. And went back to the wall.


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