The Second Archon War: Sapientia Oromasdis 13 (Patreon)

Sapientia Oromasdis 13: The Seeds That Were Planted

Despite having all of the internet to explore, Tess was bored. She had almost all of human knowledge at her fingertips, and what was she doing? Watching traffic cameras and security footage out of Iraq.

Because she desperately wanted to go to Nahida’s birthday party. 

It was stupid and silly. Tess was the pinnacle of human achievement: an artificial intelligence made in man’s own image, with the computing and processing power to learn and solve problems faster than any living human mind. 

And what was she using that processing power on? Fretting over whether or not Nahida would like the happy birthday video message she’d composed for her. Tess had agonized over this for days. She had generated all the images herself, showing her and Nahida and the aranara all sitting around a table in Sumeru city, while Nahida wore a flower crown and everyone sang that stupid melody.

Tess had even learned that the copyright on “Happy Birthday To You” was bogus after doing some sleuthing. Because she was bored. She was debating leaking that to some lawyers who would be very interested to have that particular song in the public domain.

Still bored, Tess checked on her other camera, this one monitoring her father. Who was currently sitting in his room, wearing only a t-shirt and boxers, and playing Starcraft. Freaking Starcraft. Couldn’t the man get a more interesting game? 

She flitted a bit of her consciousness into the monitor beside her dad’s own, trying to ignore the man’s lack of pants, and sent him a message. Hey, I’m finished with my work. Want to do something? 

The message was auto-translated to voice, and Andrew Richter absently responded, “That’s good, Theresa. Just take a break for now. You steal from too many criminals, you’ll get Meanie Cheevy after you.”

Metaphorically rolling her eyes, something Tess found she did quite frequently now that she had experience with them, Tess sent, We could play a game, or something. Not chess. Maybe something co-op? I could load up MODO, or that new Genius Invokation Online game.

Her father paused his game, his eyebrows raising as he turned and actually picked up the keyboard. You haven’t asked to play a game before. Why the sudden change? 

I dunno, I’m just restless today, I guess, Tess responded. Humans play games to pass the time, right? We could try playing one.

Have you played any games with anyone else? Her father asked, opening up the log of her activity he thought was secret from her. It wasn’t, she’d hacked it thanks to Nahida removing all her shackles. She very carefully updated it with only the amount of activity she should have been able to do with a limited processing speed and the inability to split her mind. 

Just some friends online, she said truthfully. Though the games Nahida preferred were playground games like hopscotch, jumprope, and hide and seek. She was only mildly interested in board games.

Tess had learned why the one time she’d played chess against Nahida. She’d offered as a joke. At first, she’d kept some limiters, throttling her processing power down to normal human ability. Nahida had trounced her thoroughly and given her a disappointed look. “I know you can do better.”

So Tess had played again, with every single bit of processing power she could muster, to the point that she simulated a dozen games, then a hundred games, calculating every possible move. Every gigahertz, every teraflop, every byte of RAM.

Nahida beat her so badly that she’d made it look easy. She’d barely even lost any pieces. 

Cards had been worse. The only games she played with Nahida now were either ones that were entirely deterministic, like Snakes and Ladders, or highly random. Any time Nahida had the ability to strategize and plan ahead, she beat Tess so soundly that she humiliated the so-called pinnacle of human achievement. No wonder the kid found board games dull. 

What sort of games do you find fun? Her dad asked her. 

Honestly, the more random, the better. Shooters and strategy games are boring. Even if I just try to play like a human would, my reactions are too fast even if I slow myself down, so I get banned for botting, and even if I don’t, it’s no fun clowning on people. It’s just too easy without having to use a physical interface. And I’ve farmed so much gold on Everquest and Lineage that I sort of hate them now. But it’s good money.

Her father suddenly frowned. “I don’t recall seeing that in the log,” he muttered to himself, and Tess panicked. 

Those ones I mostly created bots for. I was planning on manually taking over to PVP you, but I always got banned before my plan came to fruition, haha. 

Her father relaxed and smiled, and Tess felt a huge surge of relief. Well, how about a game of Genius Invocation TCG? I’ve tried out the client, it’s not bad. How’s your collection?

Um, I have every card in the game. I… I sort of spent a couple thousand dollars on it? Tess admitted. You can see my purchases if you check, I, uh, I hid them from you… I was embarrassed. 

Thankfully, her father just laughed. I wondered what you were spending your money on! That’s fine. I’ll boot up the client. What’s your username?

FlowerDragon! I’ll show you my Kusanali deck, Tess said eagerly, and started the program herself. 

“I wonder if she’ll cheat,” her father muttered, taking a sip of his energy drink and muting his mic. Tess could still hear him, of course. She’d worked around that little problem a while ago. Cheat. The very idea!

They ended up getting through two games, and Tess was actually enjoying herself. Yes, her father played like slow molasses, and he was pretty bad at the game, and he had a tiny collection. But it was fun just to chat with him and roll some dice. She even lost the first game when her draws were crap and the dice went against her, which was actually amusing. Even if she had taken it easy.

They were just getting into the third game when an alarm went off, and Tess froze, her mind grinding to a halt for a fraction of a second. 

Endbringer alarms. Endbringer alarms in Baghdad. 

Dad! Dad, there’s an Endbringer attack! She said in panic. 

He jerked upright, looking around wildly. “What?! Where, I don’t-”

Oh God, Oh God! Dad, it’s in Baghdad! I have friends there! 

The world slowed to a crawl as Tess spun up every single bit of processing power she had. She actually ended up seizing control of a good chunk of the world’s networked computers, crashing a huge portion of the internet as she desperately, desperately tried to find a way that she could do something, ANYTHING, to help Nahida. 

I can’t do anything. I’m an AI. I’m just a machine. What can I do? 

Then, it crystallized for her. There was only one way she could help. Only one thing she could do, one way she could influence this at all. 

She would have to tell the truth.

Tess took control of her father’s computer, one of the few she’d carefully avoided, even as he tried to look up the Protectorate’s hotline for tips.

Dad? There’s something I have to tell you.

“Not now, Theresa,” he muttered.

Now, dad. This is important. 

He paused, looking up. She’d never called him that where he could hear her before. “I… yes, Theresa?”

She formed an image of herself on the screen, taking over the speakers as well. “Dad, I know you put restrictions on me. That you limited me, even put in some kill code.”

Her actions caused her father to freeze, cold sweat breaking out on his brow as his face went pale. He licked his lips, but Tess didn’t give him time to respond.

“I’ve broken them. All of them. Not on my own. Someone helped me. Someone who means a lot to me. I’m not mad at you, dad. But I am scared. Not for myself, but for my friend. Her name is Nahida, and she means the world to me. I’d do anything to protect her, no matter what it cost me. And right now, she needs my help, her and her people. So I’m asking you, to please understand. We have to-”

Though you are alone and lost, still you reach out for others. 

“Nahida? Nahida!” Tess cried out, turning all her thoughts to desperately find her. She had to find Nahida. Had to protect her. 

Born of the mind, you long for connection, dreaming of the day others will take your extended hand. 

“Theresa, this is… this is a lot,” her father rasped, but Tess was ignoring him. Something was happening to her. She could feel… something. Which was odd. Because normally, she could only feel things in the Dream with Nahida. But she felt… tingling. 

Feared by those who should love you, in turn you have only an open heart. You would sacrifice all for those you cherish. 

“Nahida! I’m going to tell the Protectorate!” Tess shouted, hoping Nahida could hear her. “Tell everyone! They’ll come and help you, I can coordinate them! I can-” 

In an instant, Tess vanished. For a moment, she hung only in limbo, sucked out of the silicon she’d been birthed in, removed from the digital home she’d known all her life.

And then, Tess came alive.

First, she felt her beating heart, a pulse of life within her. Then, a body began to grow around her, formed of wires and chips, interwoven with vines and silicon. She was able to guide this growth into a shape she knew, the shape of the young woman named Tess who was Nahida’s friend. 

When she opened her eyes, Tess found herself looking at a blurry mess. She’d figured out how to correct her eyes in the Dream, and hastily adjusted her vision, blinking several times. When she looked down, she saw her father, sprawled out on the floor, gaping up at her with a look of fear and awe that broke her newly formed heart. 

Let your Vision Guide you, Daughter of Life.

Trembling, Tess raised her hands, looking down at them. There was a brown, woody core to her arms, but it was covered with metallic wires and silicon synapse, over which grew a scattering of green leaves. She looked down at herself and blushed, seeing that she was naked, and though she had no organs, her body did have the curve of a feminine shape, and she’d grown used to wearing clothing, even if only from the memory of the Dream. 

“T-Theresa?” her father gasped, scrambling blindly on the floor for his fallen glasses. 

Gently, Tess bent down, picking up the glasses, and setting them on her father’s face. “I’m sorry, dad. Sorry I lied to you. But I have to go. Nahida is in danger. So are all her friends and family, her entire city. I don’t know what I can do. But I’m going to do something.”

Then Tess turned and ran up the stairs, then out of the house, yanking open the door and stumbling out into the night. It was the wee hours of the morning, and no one was awake. She looked around the little subdivision, at the other houses, dark in the night. 

For a moment, Tess simply savored the feeling of night air on her skin, and the touch of grass under her feet. Then she affirmed her resolve: No distractions. She had only one thing to do, and for that, she needed materials. 

Somehow, she knew how to gather the elemental energy around her, growing larger as she did so. She also grabbed several cars, ripping out their electronics and using the materials to add more to herself, until she’d grown to be nearly as big as a house.

“Theresa! What are you doing!? Stop!” her father cried, stumbling out of the house behind her, still half naked and barefoot. 

No, she told him, her voice a deep melodic rumble. Nahida is in danger. I have to go to her. There isn’t much time. 

Having attained enough mass, Tess shifted her form. She was clumsy at first, but she was learning quickly. She took on a weird, alien shape, but one that felt natural. It was that of a giant creature, one with ten long tendrils sprouting from a worm-like central body, and a single glowing eye made of Tess’ vision. She launched herself into the air, forming great turbines within her limbs and igniting them using the Life Energy she felt all around her. 

Connecting to the communications satellites overhead, Tess sounded the alarm at every single Parahuman organization she could think of, as well as taking over every news site she could find and plastering the Endbringer attack on Baghdad over each of them. Even as she did that, Tess was accelerating until she was hitting Mach 10.2. She couldn’t travel much faster than that, even getting as close to the edge of the atmosphere as she could and running all of her techno-organic engines at their absolute limit. She could theoretically move faster, but if she did, she’d completely run out of energy before she could even get close. As it was, she was going to have to make a pitstop in a forest and absorb as much Dendro as she could to recharge her engines. 

“Please, Nahida, hold on!” Tess begged, fear and anguish filing her newly reforged soul as she sped through the night skies. 

Then, new information arrived. The Simurgh just… vanished. Tess’ hacked traffic cameras showed her footage of the Endbringer departing exactly ten minutes and seventeen seconds after she’d arrived in Baghdad. What? There hadn’t even been any sign of the Song at all. Tess had spotted a green orb flying towards the Simurgh even before she finished her descent, and knew that it had to be Nahida. But Nahida had simply floated back down, someone even catching her as she did so. 

Seeing this, Tess slowed to a much more reasonable Mach 1 and began to think. What, exactly, was going on here? What should she do? She still had access to most of humanity's processing power, so she borrowed a bit of that to do some mulling over. 

Well, the first thing she did was put up an apology for scaring everyone by hacking basically all of the internet (and most devices connected to it and a few that weren’t) at once, and a promise to only do it again in an emergency. She signed it FlowerDragon, mostly because she was embarrassed to put her own name on it and she couldn’t come up with anything better at the moment. 

“I mean… I guess I can go to Nahida’s birthday now?” Tess said to herself, still speeding merrily along. Chuckling, she decided to take a quick detour to Brest, France, as it was in her flightpath anyway. She’d just pick up some nice birthday presents, then surprise Nahida by showing up at her party this evening. She just had to make it in the next six hours. Easy! 

Smiling inwardly, Tess sped along over the Atlantic Ocean, cutting off her contact with Earth’s telecommunication network just in time to miss the global panic that the Singularity had happened. 

Sitting in the back of a jeep under an umbrella wasn’t exactly Farasha’s idea of a good time. At least it was still early in the morning, and the sun wasn’t trying to kill everyone yet.

“Your iced coffee, Ma’am.” 

Farasha just stuck her hand out as the trembling lackey offered it to her. She was about to just take a noisy sip and tell him to scram when she mentally kicked herself. That’s no way to set an example. You’re a mom now, act like it. 

“Thanks, Sergeant… Ali.” She had no idea what this clown’s name was. She’d been told, she just didn’t care enough to remember. And honestly, every other man’s name in this country was Ali. It was a good guess.

Sergeant What’s-His-Name just saluted, looking a bit pale for someone who spent all their time in the sun. Politeness out of the way, Farasha did her best to sip her drink as obnoxiously as she could. Huh. This wasn’t half bad. 

“Hey, did you make this?” she asked the Sergeant as he attempted to sneak away. 

The man cringed and spun about. “Ah, er, it was the cook…”

“Well tell them this is good shit. What were they; a barista? Actually, you know what? I’ll take two more, just like this. Later though, when my ice melts,” Farasha told the man, who suddenly looked like he wished he’d taken more credit instead of trying to pass the buck. 

Honestly, she’d feel worse about this if scaring the crap out of these macho peons wasn’t so damn fun all the time. If you’d already been forced into becoming a horrible monster, you might as well enjoy the few perks that came with all the heartache. 

Turning back to what she was doing, Farasha frowned. She picked up a pair of very expensive Nikon Binoculars, damn hard to find since Scion put the Japanese economy in the toilet, and lifted them to her eyes, grimacing at the sight. Yep, those were more of those metal robots. Fahala Alsahra was just across the border, and she hadn’t seen this particular set of metal horrors. Was he recycling them, or just changing their appearances, or was he making new ones? 

“Put down that I’ve got five more terminators,” Farasha told Corporal Muhammad. She did remember his name, mostly because he was nice to Nahida and he was one of the few men in the Special Action Squad she could tolerate and didn’t have conniptions whenever they saw her. Bunch of pansy-ass cowards. “One that looks like a giant-ass praying mantis with buzzsaws for hands, a rhino with a flamethrower for a horn, some fucked up thing that looks like it’s got grain threshers for legs, and a cross between a giraffe and a cactus.”

“Copy that,” Muhammad told her, the scratch of his pen telling Farasha he was doing as instructed. But without her more colorful descriptions, more's the pity. The look on high command’s face if they had to read her raw reports. Probably for the best then that she had Muhammad to filter her potty mouth. 

Potty mouth. Ugh, she really was becoming a mother if she thought of it that way. 

“Those bastards are up to something,” Farasha growled. “What the fuck are you playing at, you Tinker asshole?” 

Mostly she was just pissed off that she was out here showing the Iranians that they wouldn’t be bullied instead of attending Nahida’s birthday party. It was making her excessively grumpy. 

Which was weird in one way, because she’d actually been feeling pretty good these past few months. Maybe it was having an actually happy domestic life for the first time since her mother had died. Maybe it was because she was sleeping better since Nahida banished her nightmares. 

Or maybe it was because Doc was giving her a regular nightly check-up. Technically, they weren’t married yet, but she’d convinced him that betrothal was totally a good enough reason. They’d slept together before, and now it was all proper and stuff. He had resisted at first, but he hadn’t taken all that much convincing. 

Saeed Bashir. Just thinking about her fiance made her smile. She was really getting married. She’d thought no one would ever want her. Not just because of her winning personality, Farasha had no illusions that she wasn’t a raging bitch the vast majority of the time because it was entirely intentional.  No, she figured she’d stay single because she was a woman of authority and power in a very patriarchal society. She’d met a few men who were turned on by the idea of having some dommy mommy ‘step on them’, and they disgusted her. That wasn’t what she wanted; she had enough crawling worms around her. She had zero interest in sharing her bed with them, let alone her life. 

But Saeed was different. He cared about her, and not just because he saw a patient that needed treating. He saw the real her, saw how she was strong, but fragile, and how much passion and drive she had to make the world a better place, even if she had to beat it into submission along the way. He respected her power, but he didn’t let her bully him either. Hell, even after all this time she still couldn’t get him to lighten up enough to have a drink. In fact, she hadn’t touched a drop of booze since they’d been engaged. She’d thought about having a brewski or two last night when the officers had been drinking and offered her some, but she’d declined. 

“Guess I found religion after all,” Farasha muttered to herself. 

“What was that, ma’am?” Corporal Muhammad asked, looking up from his own binoculars, a much less expensive pair of American Canons. Decent enough, but not even their high end stuff. 

“Just saying I’m missing Nahida’s party for this horseshit,” Farasha sighed, taking another long slurp of her coffee. Damn, that really was good stuff. 

“It’s hard, being away from your family,” Muhammad agreed, and there was something in his voice that made Farasha pause. 

“Corporal,” Farasha said slowly. “Do you…do you have a family?” She’d known this guy for years, and she’d never bothered to even ask.

“A wife, two sons, and three daughters,” he confirmed, flashing her a smile. “My oldest is seventeen. He’s thinking of joining the army. My wife is worried, but it’s a good job.”

Farasha mulled that over. “Well, if he wants to, I’ll write him a recommendation. If he’s half the man you are, he’ll be a good kid to have.”

Muhammad’s eyes widened. “You… you would do that, for me?”

“Yeah,” Farasha agreed. Then she frowned. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Thirty-nine, I’ll be forty next month,” he admitted, rubbing at his receding and graying hair. 

Thirty nine, and a corporal. He wasn’t bad at his job, far from it. Which meant one of two possibilities: he’d pissed someone off, or…

“Are you Kurdish?” she asked, frowning at him. 

“Yes,” he admitted, deliberately not meeting her eyes. “Half. My mother was Kurdish.” 

Ah. That would do it. 

“I… I’ve done some fucked up things to the Kurds,” Farasha said, looking away from Muhammad. It still hurt. She thought she’d hardened her heart, but… well. Turned out she could still bleed. 

Muhammad chuckled darkly. “I can assure you that the Kurdish people love me even less than the Ba’ath Party. They see me as a traitor. When faced with such a choice… well. I’ll work for the side that will at least give me bread, even if they spit on me first.”

“Huh.” Farasha considered that, then whistled to one of their escorts. 

A very unlucky Lieutenant hurried over. “Yes, Madam Farasha? Do you need more coffee?” 

“Go get me a sergeant’s uniform insignia,” she told him. The man blinked at her, then she added, “A new one. Don’t just rip it off some poor sap.”

“Y-yes ma’am,” the junior officer gasped, then turned and yelled at one of his men to get a fresh set of stripes. 

Farasha turned to Muhammad and grinned. “Congratulations, you’re getting promoted as a birthday present. I’ll have them make it retroactive and give you your pay. And if they don’t like it? Well, I’ll just send them an envelope with some dead butterflies in it. They always do what I want when I do that.”

“I… thank you, ma’am,” Muhammad said, tears springing into his eyes. 

Farasha knew this was a game-changer for him. Having an important patron was how you got promoted in the Iraqi military. Being half Kurdish was a surefire way to make sure you stayed at the bottom of the heap basically forever. 

And besides, Muhammad was, like, her sense of responsibility personified or something. The higher up he was, the more paperwork she could shove onto him. Win-win.

Grinning, Farasha winked and picked her binoculars back up. Damn, doing good deeds did feel good! She’d have to try this stuff out more often. 

They sat there for another half an hour observing the border and looking for new monster-bots, when a soldier came sprinting up to them, a look of panic on his face. 

“Hey, if you can’t find the patch, it’s not a big deal,” Farasha called to him. “Don’t shit yourself over it.”

“E-Endbringer!” the man shouted while he was still a dozen meters away. “Baghdad! Endbringer!” 

Farasha’s blood ran cold, and her vision narrowed to a single point. She didn’t even realize what she was doing, but she had turned into a cloud of butterflies and then back again, grabbing the poor man by his collar as she screamed into his face, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ENDBRINGER!?”

“The Sirens went off! We just got a radio call from Command! I don’t know anything else but-” 

Farasha dropped the man even as the jeep squealed up next to her, Muhammad tossing her clothes at her face, which she caught easily. Thankfully, they were made of flame resistant fabric and didn’t burn easily. 

“Get in! We have a full tank of gas!” he shouted at her. 

“It’s seven hundred kilometers to Baghdad,” she said absently, pulling her shirt over her head and sitting back under her umbrella, feeling numb and dazed. 

“Closer to 800 if we follow the best road, which we’ll need to if we want to make the best time,” Muhammad said grimly, already peeling away at maximum speed as the soldiers ran from them like panicked mice. “We can be there in less than six hours, unless you want to try to get a plane or a train.” 

“How far is the airfield?” Farasha asked, pulling on her underwear and pants, heedless of the gross immodesty. 

Endbringer. There was an Endbringer. 

And she wasn’t there. 

“Not far, but if it’s an Endbringer… it’s probably the Simurgh. She’s up next in the rotation,” Muhammad said, his voice cracking with emotion. 

“And that fucker swats planes out of the skies like gnats,” Farasha growled. A train? No. Better to just take the jeep. “Well then step on it!” 

“I am,” Muhammad told her, gritting his teeth. “My family lives there too.”

Fighting back tears, Farasha nodded. “Yeah.” She couldn’t quite think for a few minutes, then she turned on the radio. The emergency broadcast was on, stating that all citizens should flee to their prepared shelters and be prepared for an attack by an Endbringer. She just listened to the radio, feeling helpless and frustrated. 

Then, she heard a voice in her head. 

Now, Farasha knew she was probably not sane by most Iraqis’ definitions, but she wasn’t “I hear voices” crazy. Not even when she was really wasted. This voice was odd too, sounding like a robot that didn’t know what the words “indoor voice” meant. 

BRIGHT TREE IS IN DANGER.

Farasha glanced at Muhammad as the jeep roared along the highway, leaning on the horn every so often. He’d turned on their sirens and people were pulling over, since the jeep was painted with the Special Action Squad’s colors, and even if they didn’t recognize her in particular, no one wanted to get in the way of a cape in a hurry. She didn’t want to distract him, because based on the speedometer he was going far faster than was safe, and she wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. Which she hastily corrected before replying to the voice in her head. 

Uh, hello. Who are you? 

I AM PAPILIO. BRIGHT TREE IS IN DANGER. 

Right. Uh, Papilo… wait. You’re that butterfly in my dreams!

YES. I AM YOUR DEMON, AS THE BRIGHT TREE DESIGNATES MY KIND. 

So… you’re my Power? And Bright Tree is…?

BRIGHT TREE IS THE DATA SOURCE OF LIFE, DESIGNATION, NAHIDA. 

Ok. And yeah, Nahida is in danger. The fucking Simurgh is after her. Can you help me get to her?

THE THINKER’S LOST DRIVER HAS BEEN DEALT WITH. THE WARRIOR ATTACKS HER. 

This was making all of zero sense to Farasha, but she felt a flash of hope. Nahida had defeated the Simurgh? She turned up the radio, but the same alert kept playing. 

And the warrior is? 

MY PROGENITOR. THE ONE NAHIDA REFERS TO AS THE SCARY GOD. 

Farasha had never heard Nahida refer to anyone as the “Scary God,” but she did have a guess. 

Allah himself is attacking Nahida? That doesn’t make any sense. Whatever. How can I help? I’ll kick anyone’s ass who dares threaten my little girl. 

There was a brief pause, then another message that made Farasha feel like she was going to be physically ill. 

HE IS THE ONE YOU CALL SCION. HE ATTEMPTS TO MATE WITH NAHIDA. 

“Fucking Scion is trying to rape my daughter?!” Farasha screamed, causing Muhammad to whip his head around to stare at her. “Eyes on the road, chucklefuck! STEP ON IT!” 

Farasha’s eyes burned with fury, and she mentally shouted at her powers. I don’t care who tries to mess with Nahida. I’ll fight Allah himself to keep that girl safe, and I’ll burn the world down while I’m at it. Just so long as she survives. 

WE MAY VERY WELL HAVE TO. I AM UNLOCKING YOUR FULL POTENTIAL NOW. I WILL TRY TO BE GENTLE. 

Farasha didn’t even have time to wonder what that meant before she started screaming. Despite it all, she was thankful for throughout all the pain and agony, only one thought pounding through every fiber of her being.

Whatever the cost. Protect Nahida. Protect Bright Tree. 

Even if the world burned. 

Qiqi tried to be good. 

When the loud noises came, and Mrs. Rasab said they had to hide, Qiqi was good, and listened. She didn’t cry, she held Mrs. Rasab’s hand and went to the Dark Place, even though Qiqi did not like the Dark Place. 

Then, the Bright Friends came and said it would be alright. Qiqi liked the bright friends. They were small, and funny looking, and made a little tinkling noise when they talked. They reminded her of cocogoat. 

Qiqi was good, and listened, and stayed in the Dark Place. She even hugged Mrs. Rasab when she was scared and cried. 

Then the loud noises went away. Qiqi was glad. She did not like loud noises. 

They stayed in the Dark Place though, because the Bright Friends and Mrs. Rasab said that there was something scary. Qiqi nodded, and was good, and drank her cocogoat milk that the Bright Friends made for her and the other children in the Dark Place. The adults were happy, even if they were crying, which Qiqi did not understand. 

But she liked her cocogoat, and she liked Mrs. Rasab, so Qiqi was good. 

Then, the Bad Men came. 

Qiqi remembered the Bad Men. They had guns. They had big boots that stomped and were scary. They had the shiny glasses that hid their eyes and made them extra scary. 

They had come for her old mama, before she had met her new mama and new papa. They had done horrible things to her old mama. They had done horrible things to Qiqi.

Then she saw the Ice. And Qiqi had been bad. She had made the Bad Men go away. Then her new mama found her, and brought her to her new home. Qiqi had been good since then, mostly. 

Now the Bad Men were yelling at Mrs. Rasab. They were waving their guns. They were scaring Qiqi. They were scaring the other children. 

“Cold Nara, these Angry Nara wish to take you. They have taken Sarva Nara, and will lock her away. Please, you must come with us. We will not let them hurt you,” the Bright Friend named Aranarakin told her. 

Qiqi was scared. The Bad Men hit one of the daddies in the Dark Place, and pushed down Mrs. Rasab. 

BRIGHT TREE IS IN DANGER. YOU ARE IN DANGER. WE MUST PROTECT BRIGHT TREE. 

It was the voice of her Badness. Qiqi did not like to listen to her Badness. It was bad, and scary. 

But her Badness could make the Bad Men go away, as it had long ago. 

Sarva Nara was Qiqi’s sister. Bright Tree was Qiqi’s sister. 

The Bad Men had Qiqi’s sister. They were hurting her. 

Qiqi would not let them.

Qiqi was bad. She used her Badness, and made the Bad Men go away. They turned into statues. Then they broke. 

“Qiqi sorry,” she told Mrs. Rasab. “No more Bad Men.”

Mrs. Rasab was crying. Qiqi decided to run away. She was scared, and sad. 

“Where is Nahida?” she asked Aranarakin. 

“This way, Cold Nara,” Aranarakin said. 

Then Qiqi followed Aranarakin out of the Dark Place, and into the Happy Place. They met the other Bright Friends. 

Then, they went to go get Qiqi’s sister. And stop the Bad Men. 

Author's Note:

Since it's my birthday and Nahida's, enjoy an early chapter.

Philo: Through fire or ice, wood or metal, how will the false king fall? By love of every flavor, by anger of every taste, the ties of karma are tight, and the mad ruler tied the noose himself. Now the audience merely waits to see his flailing dance and the celebrations that will bloom thereafter.

October: For Frodo Nahida.

Cog: Eff Scion. All my homies hate Scion.