hate

Upon receiving information from a trustworthy source demanding to remain anonymous, you returned to the guild, after having run away some time earlier.

“Hey, hey,” said Jerry, the receptionist. “You’re on probation, buddy, that means no disappearing for two weeks.”

“They’re going to kill her,” said… you. “Samantha did something rash, and she’s getting executed for it.”

“Oh Shiron. What’d she do?”

“I don’t know, my source was frantic and didn’t know much. Where’s Joan?”

“She doesn’t want to see you, buddy.”

“Well I… ugh!” You hadn’t learned a thing.

No, no, that’s wrong. The first time you’d left, you’d been unhappy. The second… impotent. There had been nothing you could do.

He, you looked back, he-you looked forth. The room was sufficiently bereft of eyes.

You whispered: “I’m going to show you my face, and you’ll understand why I need to see her so much.” And you doffed your helmet, your poofy hair flopping out of its hood, your moustache unbending, your eyes with light, too much light.

“What, am I supposed to recognize you?”

“Huh. Yeah, you are.”

“Oh, I can actually hear you now, you should keep that thing off. And have a shower.”

“God… I’m Quincy, man. Quincy Day. You know that teleporting thing I do? That’s how I faked my death. Now point me to my maid so we may discuss what should be done about my sister.”

He didn’t answer, but he appeared to have been thrust sufficiently deep into labyrinthian thought that he wouldn’t resist your walking past reception.

You redonned your helmet, and Joan fortunately emerged from a side room in fervent argument with a raven on her shoulder. You had been starting to worry you’d need to stake out her flat.

“Oh Libri,” she said, seeing you, and grabbed the raven and placed him^† on a banister. “Summoning room 2, now.”

You did not know where Summoning Room 2 was. “Lead the way.” She grabbed your hand and marched through a door, slamming it behind you. “Where the hell have you been?”

“They’re going to kill Samantha.”

“Screw you no they’re not. And take that damn helmet off.”

You sighed, and obliged.

“There he is,” she said, and here she was, the unamused, belligerent Joan.

“You’re not surprised?”

“Are you fecking stupid? I knew it was you on day two. You didn’t even try to hide your voice.”

He did, though. Maybe she was used to him making character voices.

“Did Samantha know?”

“No.” Heh…

“You… you knew. You knew it was me.”

“Absolute dick move to make your sister sit through your funeral.”

“I know! I learned about it afterwards! I didn’t think she cared.”

“You didn’t think she cared.”

“That’s part of why I came back here. Besides Blisbane being awful, I wanted to check that you two were doing okay.”

“Uh huh.”

“You knew. You…”

“You seemed happier.”

Your mind detonated. You, Quincy Day, sat down. “I seemed happier.”

She was silent, observing him.

“You don’t hate me.”

“Get up, you’re pathetic. Samantha didn’t hate you, either. She might now. You fecking jumped in front of her, why did you do that?”

He, you, uh. “You don’t hate me.” He didn’t have to be soulless.

“You jumped off a cliff in front of your fecking sister you worm!” It had taken her a second to heat up, but she’d gotten there.

If she didn’t hate me… why didn’t she jump after me? You would’ve grabbed her! You both could’ve started new, somewhere!

…Ugh! No! You both would’ve just ended back up at the Felkner Vanguard Guild, under the rule of The Liverless Dragon, and just like things had been for two weeks, it would’ve been wonderful.

And that’s assuming you would’ve caught her…

In for a halfpenny, in for a pound of flesh. “I thought she hated me. Either she would’ve been happy to see me jump, or she would’ve jumped after me. She wouldn’t have died, you know that chest I got? She would’ve gone to the same place that goes to, that’s where I went.”

Glare. Anger. It wasn’t tasty. Too dense for you.

“You can hate me, now. She can, too. It’s enough to know you two didn’t hate me back then.

“But anyways. None of that matters now. Samantha’s going to die. I don’t want that.”

Glare. God, her eyes were fire. “Let’s see what we can do,” she said.

† It was probably Weathers.