Chapter 7 Remnants #4
In the space of days spent curling up on the man’s once-untouched couch and sitting at the kitchen island in the early morning hours, the sleeve of her large shirt slipping off her shoulder as he pressed a cup of freshly brewed coffee and a plate of fluffy eggs and lightly buttered toast into her hands, along with a glass of water and her medication.
Watching him don his white coat and grab his car keys, something in the fragile, broken pieces of her heart began to mend.
Not completely—she didn’t think it ever would.
But Lucien cared for her, in a way that no one ever had besides Kit.
Now, sitting among the rumpled sheets in his guest bedroom, warm sunlight and the glinting glass of the high-rises filtering in through the slats of the blinds, Rin realized what she must do.
A soft beep made her fumble in the mess of sheets for her phone, unlocking it to find a message from Sabine:
Will you be coming home today?
Rin blew out a breath. Sabine and Talor both had been pestering her to come home.
She knew they were grieving, too, but god, Rin couldn’t be in that place anymore.
Especially after how well rested she was after staying with Lucien.
She was just lucky Xara was helping to cover for her since Rin had told them both she was staying at the dorm.
Her fingers paused over the keyboard.
She wasn’t going home, but she wasn’t going to stay with Lucien anymore. She had to do something different, or she would never change, and always spiral. Rock bottom loomed, and if she kept falling, she would shatter.
She hadn’t come this far to let herself succumb to grief. She would die—soon. Her bones would rot in a casket underground—maybe even next to Kit’s plot.
For the time she had left in this life, Rin was going to make a change.
Her jaw clenched as she typed:
No. I’m going back to training. It’s time.
Lucien watched as the dappled sunlight cast strips of rainbows on Vesperin’s pale cheeks, gaunt—but not as bad as a week ago.
He pushed up his glasses with the tip of his finger, trying not to show the shaking in his hands.
"I’m going back, Lucien." Vesperin’s white hair fell into her face as she stared down at the plate of eggs and toast he had made for her, two small white pills sitting beside a glass of water, condensation sliding down the side and pooling on the marble countertop. "Today."
He knew this was going to happen. Grief could do terrible things, but Vesperin was stronger than letting it wither her—Lucien knew that the shadows under her eyes and fog in her brain were because of what Sabine and Talor had been doing to her. The drugs, the experiments…
At least at the dorm, they could not reach her.
He settled his hands on the counter, fingers splayed, brushing against her bare arms.
"Are you sure, Vesperin?"
She looked up at him, grey eyes wide, pale brows upturned in grief. "Yes." She licked her lips. "I think I need—no, I know I need to do this."
It would go back to the way it always had been. With Lucien seeing her an hour per week at the hospital, reduced to mere doctor and patient; though, in truth, she was his very reason for breathing.
"I’ll drive you." Lucien tugged his phone out of his back pocket, preparing to reschedule a few of the appointments he had today—nothing major, thankfully.
"You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine," she said.
Lucien sighed, wishing he could freeze this moment and make her stay safe with him forever. "I want to."
Rin’s first day back at the Academy was stilted.
Keir seemed to walk on eggshells around her, and Xara was quiet, wrapping her in a strong hug. Rin didn’t cry; she had no tears left, just determination.
Director Ilsa welcomed her back with a clap on the shoulder, quickly getting to business as she directed Rin to the assignments posted for her. Rin’s last grade flickered on the projection, reminding her of a scythe, a white cloak, and a Star tattoo etched under gentle blue eyes.
Her grade was…
"A thirty-three?" Rin questioned aloud, trying not to fiddle with the tight black pants sticking to her skin. It felt weird to wear her uniform after living in baggy clothes for over a month.
Director Ilsa cleared her throat, folding her hands behind her back.
The woman’s red hair was tugged away from her face in many thick braids, revealing her severe, hardened features.
"The assignment was completed unsuccessfully, Vesperin.
I regret that your score is so low, but it is factual.
" Her eyes pinned Rin to the spot. "Frankly, I don’t give a shit about your last name.
If you cannot show up and meet the expectations for Alpha Team, we have more deserving trainees to fill your spot.
" The words weren’t harsh—just matter-of-fact.
Rin understood. This spot had been paid for with the Blackfall name.
Rin’s fingers curled weakly into a fist at her side, nails biting into her palm. "Understood." She reached forward, fingers hovering over the word Assignments on the board, revealing a list—all in Nova Zone 21. Strange.
She sighed, shoulders curling forward awkwardly in the thick harness wrapped around her waist.
These meager assignments weren’t enough. She needed more.
Rin tapped out of the assignments board, and the display shifted to the home screen, revealing the rankings and the Hunter’s Guild insignia.
There was a section on the board she hadn’t noticed before. A small sign that read, Volunteer Posting.
Rin clicked on it, revealing a single line that made her heart stutter to a stop in her chest. Bile rose in the back of her throat, and black spots speckled her vision. Wavering, she braced a pale, shaking hand on the wall to hold herself up.
Volunteers Needed for an Off-Planet Mission.
Hunters needed: one.
Duration: two weeks.
Objective: find and eliminate a stowaway Rogue.
Destination: Sibeth.
She stood there, alone, not even realizing that Director Ilsa had left. The Alpha Team floor was cold and silent, save for the sound of Rin’s ragged breathing. She felt like she was going to pass out.
Kit’s words from… that day… floated back to her, echoing and taunting.
Sibeth… A Rogue got in from an illegal ship, and they need someone from the Fleet to pilot a ship there with Hunters.
To flee from the ghost of him, perhaps she would need to chase it, instead.
Her hand braced against the wall as she forced herself upright, lips parted, releasing jagged breaths, torn from the pit of her Soul.
Was she really going to do this?
Rin stared and stared at the words on the assignment board.
As if of their own accord, her fingers clicked on the flickering words at the bottom.
Sign-Up Form.
Current spots filled: zero.
Spots needed: one.
Rin drew in a breath, and then… she clicked, Accept.
The dawn light washed over Rin as she stood, rigid, in the warehouse of the Fleet base.
The cement stairs thudded hollowly as the last few personnel prepared the ship for the impending takeoff.
The ship was streamlined, black, and glistening in the sunlight that cut through the open hangar.
Similar in appearance to a plane, yet undeniably different, the Fleet vessel was crafted for expeditions within their solar system, not extended travels.
It was a different model than the one that…
Rin’s throat tightened, her folded hands shaking.
They had to make the mission to Sibeth volunteer-based after the explosion of the last ship. No one wanted to go after... The ship was different than the prior model. And the number of people taken was smaller, as well. One Fleet pilot, and only one Hunter:
Rin, who was standing before the sleek ship with her thundering heart in her throat and a different set of Hunter-issued uniform—a tight, black bodysuit, with sleeves that stopped at her wrists and cuffs around her ankles that she had tucked neatly into her heavy, anti-gravity boots.
Flexible black gloves were fitted over her arms, the edge ending right at her elbow.
Underneath, she wore her corset-style harness, and it cut into the bones of her ribs with every stuttering breath.
The many pockets in the pants were empty.
She had no effects she wished to keep close, save the dog tag tucked under her bodysuit.
Her phone wouldn’t work off-planet. She would be alone.
In the Stars. Left to chase after the ghost of the man who would forever haunt her.
"Prepare to take off in fifteen!" The Fleet pilot—an older, well-medaled man by the name of Plin—called to her as he finished packing up the last of their supplies.
A mere fail-safe. The trip would take less than a few hours with the advanced travel system.
By nightfall, Rin would be in the sinful capital of Sibeth.
She nodded curtly, feeling her damned heart kick up again. Lucien had cleared her for the mission, so long as she had her medication.
Didn’t mean he was happy about it.
Dull footsteps thudded up the stairs, and she turned, finding the man in question walking to her, a pale hand gripping the thin railing as he came to a stop before her, green eyes dark behind his glasses and black hair in the slightest of disarray.
She noted shadows under his eyes, as if he hadn’t gotten much sleep since a week ago, when she had told him where she was going…
"Hi," she whispered.
He didn’t speak, merely held up his arms and grabbed her, folding her into his strong chest. She breathed in his sandalwood scent, wishing she could bottle it and take it with her. His face pressed into the crown of her hair. "Vesperin." He said no more, as if he couldn’t think of the words.
Rin pulled away, chin brushing the soft cotton of his pressed button-up. "I want you to know, Lucien, I’m not running from you." From us, she wanted to say. "I need to do this. To find… closure."