Chapter 19
Nineteen
Zellie
“And this is where we map the constellations’ locations. You can adjust the telescope to get a wider range of outer space. There’s a workstation in the corner with up-to-date charts. We’ll look over those next so you don’t mess them up.”
It’s my first day on the job as an Astral Cartographer, and the nasally, monotone voice of the official providing me with training is dreadfully boring.
An entirely new wing of the Hall has been unlocked to me, and I scope out the room encouragingly.
The room is dimly lit by flickering orb sconces mounted to the walls, scattered parchment and tomes lining every inch of free surface.
A plush dark rug—perhaps burgundy—spans the space with frayed edges.
It’s quaint, save for the open balcony leading to the colossal telescope manning the span of the terrace.
A thick, wooden door encloses the space with its darkened richness.
Closed doors lined the hallway leading to this very room, leading me to wonder what secrets are hidden behind them.
“Are you paying attention? This is critical.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. As if charting stars were a difficult task. Slowly, my head moves back to the official, who has the audacity to look at me as if I’ve offended him. Perhaps he feels jilted by me, a lowly human, earning the position over him. Well… I was a human.
“Carry on, Ian.”
“It’s Ewan.”
Same thing. I stare at him blankly, waiting for him to cave. The weak aren’t suited for direct eye contact.
“To test the power capacity of each constellation, you’ll need to utilize this tool.
” I knew he’d crack. He strides over to a wide bookshelf, grabbing a tool that looks shockingly familiar.
He grabs the scepter and holds it out to me, much too close for comfort.
Sweat beads at my temple as I freeze, paralyzed by the memory and chain of events the last time that scepter was present.
A single step. Orion ablaze, star-shooting to The Twins. A beam of light. Endless, searing pain.
This assignment is punishment. A way to torture me with triggers of my past regularly. That bastard.
I’m entirely unprepared for the onslaught of painful memories.
I thought I was doing better, but this brings me right back to that fateful day.
Nausea swirls in my stomach, my heart beating irregularly.
My joints lock up, my bones tensing as they brace for immeasurable pain. I can’t breathe—are my lungs seizing?
Stars above, is this what a panic attack feels like?
You're okay. You're okay. I repeat the words until they’re true, gulping down air like a woman starved.
“Miss? Are you alright?” The official looks equal parts scared as he does concerned as he comes back into my line of vision.
I wipe the sweat from my clammy skin before mentally tapping into the undercurrent of magic flowing through me.
I need to ensure nothing irregular has flared that Ian, Ewan, whatever the fuck his name is, can report to Pluto and the rest of the Kosmos.
“Yes, fine. Headache.” I scrunch my face whilst rubbing my temples for good measure. “Please continue.”
Ewan eyes me with weary calculation before continuing, “As I was saying, you touch the sphere to each point in the constellation. Each star holds individual power; therefore, they must all be tested. If fully powered, the scepter will fill with a bright glow, fully. When it’s less than full, it will produce half the glow.
If the star is low or out, the scepter will not light at all. ”
Up close, the scepter is more magnificent than I thought.
The sheer crystal globe sitting at the top of the wand is so clear I can see my reflection.
The base is artistically designed, filled with intricate swirls of constellations and depicted planets.
It would be quite lovely if it weren’t capable of such destruction.
But such is the case with most things in life, I suppose.
While all of this is fascinating, it sounds rather time-consuming. “How often do I need to check each constellation?”
“Only once a cycle, they don’t lose power that quickly. You can make your way around the zodiac belt, testing all thirteen on a weekly basis.”
Well, that’s not too terrible. Wait—how am I supposed to get out there?
Can we even breathe out there? We must be able to, right?
The official who restored the Twins after the Games didn’t do anything besides star-shoot.
Maybe it’s part of the protective star bubble, or something like that… hopefully. “One slight problem, Ian.”
“Ewan.”
“Right.” At this point, it’s just fun. “I don’t know how to star-shoot.”
Ewan doesn’t miss a beat. “That problem sounds like it’s above my pay grade.”
Touche, Ewan. Touche.
Well, that was the most awful experience I’ve had since turning into…
whatever I’ve become. Thank the stars that I only need to be at the Cosmic Hall twice a cycle.
This gives me plenty of time to learn how to star-shoot, train, plot, hijack a treasure trove, plan a murder—who knows, maybe even throw some relaxing in there.
I palm the dagger tucked safely away in my pants.
I’m on edge after my panic attack, but having the blade close always reassures me.
The weapon was a gift from Orion to remind me of who I am—a viper—and to keep me safe, of course.
I opt to walk through the city rather than take a hovercraft, allowing the air to clear my head.
I walk without purpose, offering polite smiles to those who openly gawk or who cannot look away.
Yes, behold the human who once was. The crystalline bridge adorned with an array of flowers grows closer.
Leaving the path, I cross the mauve grass, my steps quickening down the light decline to the river that flows beneath the bridge.
No one can find me here—it’s quiet, withdrawn from the world above.
A perfect spot to hide away and just be myself.
I strip to my undergarments, depositing my clothes and dagger on the riverbank.
The water swishes peacefully around me as I wade deeper until I’m up to my waist. I push off the stream bed and tread, gently fighting against the push of the current.
The motion is secondary; the weightlessness grounds me in a way I cannot achieve on land.
I gaze at the stars above religiously, as if I could find my purpose and direction in the vast darkness between them.
What am I doing? I’m so consumed by this rage, by my hatred of Pluto, the Kosmos, and what I’ve become.
Is it ruining me? Destroying my relationships?
I don’t know how to be anything different at this point.
Carrying this weight into new situations will only poison anything new in my life.
While I know that, I cannot stop now. But I’m so, so tired.
Once the Order is dismantled and Pluto is handled.
Once I have my revenge and there is justice and righteousness in these worlds again, perhaps then I can let these feelings go.
Only then.