Chapter 9 #2
"That's what you remind me of, you know." The words come out before I can censor myself. "Watching you here. What you endured would have destroyed most people. But instead, you're rising from it. Stronger and even more beautiful."
The flush that spreads across her throat scales is deeply satisfying.
"You are…" She shakes her head, but she's smiling. "You are something else, Cody Johnson."
"I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment."
"It was intended as one."
The Cerastean sky is beginning its slow shift from pale lavender to deeper shades of violet and rose. It's beautiful in a stark, haunting way. Like everything on this planet.
"Can I ask you something?" I venture.
"Of course."
"What was your life like? Before…" I gesture vaguely, unwilling to name the horrors directly. "Before everything. Back when you lived here."
A'Vanti sets down her fork, her expression goes distant. Not closed off, exactly. More like she's reaching for memories stored in a distant place.
"You know that I was an architect," she says. "I was newly graduated. Full of ideas and ambition and absolutely certain I was going to change the world."
The image forms easily in my mind, a younger A'Vanti, bright-eyed and eager, armed with blueprints and determination.
"What kind of buildings did you design?"
"My specialty was environmental integration.
Creating structures that worked with the desert rather than against it.
Ceraste's climate is harsh, but it is also beautiful, and I believed our architecture should reflect that beauty.
" She pauses, and a smile curves her lips.
"My first commissioned project was a community center in a settlement called Brishar.
It was a modest building; nothing grand.
But to me, it felt like the most important structure in the world. "
I lean forward, drawn in. "Tell me about it."
"I had been there once before, as a girl, for my caste-choosing ceremony.
The springs beneath the volcano are where many young Cerasteans go to choose their path.
I fell in love with the settlement then, and when the commission came up years later, I fought to be the one assigned to it.
I spent months on the design. Every detail had to be perfect.
The way the light would filter through the windows at different times of day.
The ventilation systems that would keep the interior cool without requiring excessive energy.
The gathering spaces where families could come together.
" Her voice gains color as she speaks, growing more animated.
"When construction finally began, I visited the site every day.
I watched the foundation go in, then the walls, then the roof. I could not stay away."
"And when it was finished?"
The smile on her face is radiant, and I ache at the sight of it.
"It was the happiest day of my life," she says plainly.
"Standing there, watching people walk through the doors for the first time.
Children running through the courtyard. Elders settling into the shade gardens I had designed specifically for them.
Everything I had imagined had been made real.
" She shakes her head. "I do not have words for what that felt like.
To create something that would shelter and serve my people. To see my vision become tangible."
"That sounds incredible."
"It was." Her expression flickers, shadows creeping in at the edges. "The building was well-received. Better than I had dared hope. So well-received that I was selected for an honor I had never imagined. You can't imagine how cocky that made me."
"What kind of honor?"
"An outreach program to Ostium." She says the word carefully, like it might cut her tongue.
"A delegation of young professionals chosen to study Osti architecture and building practices.
We were meant to forge connections, learn new techniques, and bring knowledge back to strengthen our own methods.
" A pause. "There were twelve of us. Oh, we were all so excited for the opportunity. "
My stomach tightens. I already know where this is going.
"I know now that it was a trap," A'Vanti continues, her voice growing quieter. "We thought we were guests. We thought we were learning. Instead, we became…" She trails off, her jaw tightening.
"Prisoners," I finish for her.
"Yes." The word is barely a whisper. "We became subjects of the queen. Her experiments. And her cruelty." She looks down at her hands, folded on the table. "Of the original twelve, I am the only one who survived."
The grief in her voice is immense. Bottomless.
"A'Vanti…"
"There were other survivors, of course. From different sectors, different capture events. But I did not know them before. We were mostly kept isolated, rarely allowed to interact. When we were finally freed…" She shakes her head. "We were strangers bound by shared trauma. Nothing more."
I reach across the table and take her hand. She lets me, her fingers curling around mine.
"I'm so sorry."
"I know." She meets my gaze, and I see the pain there, so vast and deep.
But I also see strength. Resilience. The phoenix, still rising.
"Some days, the weight of it threatens to crush me.
But other days, I wonder if I survived for a reason.
I want to believe that I am here for a purpose.
And perhaps that purpose is to rebuild. To ensure that what my people built is not lost forever. "
An idea forms in my mind. Maybe stupid. Probably impulsive. Definitely worth asking.
"The community center," I say slowly. "The one you designed. Is it… is it still standing?"
A'Vanti blinks, caught off guard by the question. "I do not know. We haven't surveyed Brishar yet. It is a smaller settlement, about an hour's flight to the east. The drones have not mapped that region yet."
"So it could still be there."
"It could." Hope and fear warred in her expression. "Or it could be ruins."
"Do you want to find out?"
She stares at me. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…" I squeeze her hand gently. "Would you want to go see it? Your building. If I could get us there, would you want to go see it?"
The emotion that crosses her face is almost too much to look at directly. Hope, raw and terrified and desperate.
"I…" She swallows hard. "Yes. I would want to know. But we have responsibilities here. The mission—"
"Hey." I squeeze her hand. "We'll figure it out. We've got time. It's not going anywhere."
She nods, but I can see the hope she's trying to keep in check. The way her fingers tighten around mine before she deliberately loosens her grip.
"You're right," she says. "There is no rush."
But I'm already turning the idea over in my mind, examining it from every angle the way I'd plan a flight path. An hour east. An hour back. If we finished our work assignments early enough tomorrow, and left with plenty of daylight to spare…
I file it away and focus on what's in front of me. This evening. This woman. This gorgeous sky.
We linger over the last of our meal as the larger sun finally disappears over the desert's edge, and the smaller one drifts lower, stretching our shadows long across the sand.
A'Vanti tells me about the Festival of Twin Fire, the one day each year when both suns align on the horizon and set together, flooding the sky with so much color that the sand itself seems to glow.
How all of Najara would gather at the desert's edge to watch, how musicians would play and children would chase each other through the golden light.
Her voice is dreamy and faraway, and I don't interrupt. I just listen, watching the way the fading light plays across her face, and I think: I could listen to her talk forever and die a happy man.
Eventually, the air begins to cool. A'Vanti pulls her wrap tighter around her shoulders, and I take the hint.
"Come on," I say, standing and offering my hand. "Let me walk you back before the temperature drops any further. I don't want to have to explain to L'Zaen that I gave you hypothermia on our first date."
A'Vanti takes my hand and rises. "So this was a date."
"Was there any doubt?"
"I wanted to hear you say it." The corner of her mouth curves. "For the record."
I gather the subsonic device and our remaining things, and we head back inside.
The hangar is quiet at this hour, most of the crew already in their quarters aboard the transport or in the sections of the barracks that the bots have made livable.
Our footsteps echo off the high ceiling as we cross the floor.
A'Vanti doesn't release my hand. If anything, she shifts closer, her shoulder brushing mine as we walk. The contact is light, almost casual, but it sends a current spreading up my arm and into my chest.
We reach the transport and make our way through the corridors toward the crew quarters.
The ship is dim, running on nighttime lighting, and the low hum of the engines wraps around us like a cocoon.
We pass a few crew members heading in the opposite direction.
L'Tav nods to us without comment, though I catch the slight lift of his brow, but otherwise, we're alone.
The walk is too short.
We reach A'Vanti's door far sooner than I'd like, and she turns to face me. In the low corridor light, her scales have taken on a deeper hue, the gold muted to a rich, warm honey.
"Thank you," she says. "For tonight. For the dinner, and for…" She pauses, and her expression falters. "For listening. I have not spoken about Ceraste in a very long time. It felt good to share it with someone."
"Thank you for telling me." I mean it. The things she shared tonight, her life from before, her capture, the people she lost. Those aren't stories she gives away easily.
We stand there, neither of us moving toward the door. The corridor is empty. The ship hums its quiet song around us.
"I should go inside," A'Vanti says. She doesn't move.