8. Ascension #5
Maren navigated with quiet brilliance, her Shimmer still slightly dimmed around most of the crew, but brighter every cycle since she joined the Emberkind.
Her potential was still visible to Reyna, even if Maren herself didn't seem to believe in it.
But Reyna was waiting for the day when Maren who accomplish the impossible task that no one else was brave enough, or skilled enough, to succeed.
She waited for that day with bated breath, hoping to see Maren find her true footing onboard her ship, and soar as a leader.
Orion never stopped cataloguing and archiving the library, maintaining it with the gentle dedication of a Veladris man who believed that preserving stories was just as important as preserving the people who lived them.
Cael kept the engines running but didn't seem to want to push the ship beyond a certain point.
But Reyna also got the impression that, perhaps, he just did not care that they could possibly be better.
Reyna noticed Cael's level of adequacy, wondering every day if she was overthinking it, or if she was tapping into a different instinct she couldn't quite name.
He was competent, there was no arguing that.
The Emberkind had run just fine for over ten years.
But she also felt the distance between competency and 'just fine,' especially on a ship that carried lives of many species and creatures.
And, more often than not as the years went on, Reyna began to feel uneasy.
But overall, her captaincy had rooted itself well in the flow of the Emberkind.
Even Elena's old captain's coat, of which Reyna could never part with and, instead, had begun wearing three years after she took on the role, never quite fit until more recently.
She couldn't quite remember when it had started fitting, but it had, and it was the few and only times she allowed herself to think about the woman who had worn it first. But it wouldn't last long, for Reyna had gotten very good at not thinking about things that would break her if she let them.
On the last day of Cycle 499, Reyna sat on the bridge during the evening, monitoring routine operations on her console as she listened to the sound of festivities happening in the mess hall.
She had been invited by many of the crew to join them, even having Kess prescribe her to attend some part of the celebration.
But she hadn't been able to get up and go yet.
Thirteen years later, and she still felt that particular emptiness consume her.
Her ship was running, her crew was amazing, everyone accounted for and present.
Every rescue mission was carried out well and perfected, planned and executed and logged with the thoroughness Reyna now required.
She was respected and capable and was, by every measurable standard, living a good life.
But she was alone in a way that had become its own semblance of normal.
The 0300 corridors after the nightmares that still plagued her.
The physicals where Kess said "satisfactory," which meant so much more.
The stops in ports that gave her someone to talk to for an evening and connect with in a way her soul craved, but ended soon after.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out her PERS trinket. It was still Elena's star map pen. It would always be no matter how fragile she had to hold it to keep it viable. She rolled it in between her fingers now.
Words from Jere's missive when he stayed on Earth routinely ran through her mind.
Rey, listen to me. Okay? Read these words and hear my voice.
You have a soul match too. I know there is someone out there, waiting for you...
They will find you, or you will find them.
And promise me something, Reyna Solas. Don't you dare shy away from that person that will come into your life.
Don't you dare push them away. Let them find you and become your whole purpose.
The stars were visible through the viewport.
She stood up from her chair and walked over to the rail, looking at them.
In the beginning, in those fifteen minutes Torvax would ensure she got in the Observation Room before starting their day, she used to ask the stars for the impossible.
For Jere to come back, even though she knew that would mean he'd be in physical pain the rest of his life (and how awful was she for that?).
Or she'd ask for Elena to be found, alive and well and living a life where they just weren't able to find her, and now they did.
In her more selfish moments, she'd ask them for peace, serenity, or a lessening of her pain.
But after so many years, she eventually stopped asking the stars for anything. They never answered, and she began to realize there was nothing she could wish on to make everything better.
Tomorrow would be the first day of a new cycle, and a new era to boot as well.
Perhaps, one more try for good luck wouldn't hurt.
What's the worst the stars could do to her, not listen?
She'd lived through that. What harm would befall her or any of her crew if she tried, just one more time, to ask the stars for what she wanted most.
But what was it she could ask for now? She knew Jere and Elena weren't coming back.
She had friends in Kess and Orion and Torvax, people she cared about and relied on all the same.
She had an incredible crew, an incredible purpose with the Emberkind, and a position she loved.
What was it she truly wanted most in the universe?
"I don't even know how to ask for what I want," she whispered into the empty space around her, a soft laugh escaping her at the absurdity of such a statement.
But after a few moments, she figured out a way to maybe describe what she sought.
"I think I may know how to ask for what I want to feel.
" She looked up through the viewport and examined the endless supply of stars to look upon, that same beauty of space never lost on her.
"If there is one thing I wish I could have, it would be to no longer feel as though I need these walls.
" She closed her eyes and took a staggering breath.
"They are walls of my own making, but I don't know how to tear them down.
And god I want them gone." She opened her eyes again to look upon the black void outside.
"I want the feeling and ability to figure out how to destroy these walls within me.
I want to be open to the feelings I've blocked for so long I don't know how to undo what I did.
" Another deep breath. "Please, if there is anything I want to learn in this new cycle, this new era, teach me how to destroy the walls. "
Reyna quieted entirely, her gaze locked on the outside. Then her eyes went wide as she watched a supernova happen before her very eyes, a sudden and beautiful explosion of light brighter than any star or planet around them.
"A guest star?" Reyna knew that, historically, these violent, but spectacular, death throes of a massive star were common, but rarely witnessed, for you had to be at the exact right place at the exact right time.
And here she was.
Something about it made Reyna wonder, especially after her talk with the stars only moments ago. Perhaps...
"Oh, who am I kidding?" Reyna said to herself in exasperation.
"Witnessing a guest star was a great move, space.
But - what - does that mean I'll find a way to send my walls into their own death throes?
" Reyna laughed to herself at her own joke.
She should try to remember that one to share it with Torvax later. Though he probably wouldn't get it.
But then her mind wandered, realizing what she just said, and thinking about the true symbolism behind it.
But what was she doing? Was she really beginning to believe that the stars were telling her something?
She felt as though she were bordering on a visit to Kess to have her brain examined, celebration be damned.
Reyna laughed again, but this time sounding a bit more forced. "Sure, the stars are telling you something, Solas." But despite her own chastising, something just wasn't letting her chastise it into oblivion.
Hmm.