She is so small the first time he ever gets to meet her.
In his time, he has seen oomans, but he had never actually seen a spawnling ooman until he’d seen her. And from the moment he spoke to her, he just knew in his warrior spirit and heart that he had to protect her.
She was a disappointment. She was meant to be The Elder’s secret weapon in his insane ploy to take over The Elder Council and form a dictatorship.
But she was...too human.
Both looking and in heart and spirit.
She hadn’t been the first clone either. But she would be the last; the last straw for The power-hungry Elder.
He had ordered the elimination of all clones, apart from one.
The only reason he kept her, Greyback knows was just to keep leverage over him, because it was never any secret that Greyback deeply cared for her.
She had a natural talent for combat and had the vicious nature to go with it, as any hish-qu-ten has ever had. But she did not enjoy the violence. She was not willing, even if she was overly efficient.
And in the end, unwillingness turned to rebellion.
And Greyback has been fighting the urge to search for her ever since...
...Until one day finally, he doesn’t have to anymore.
And it’s the most afraid (and desperate) he’s ever felt.
304 Years Later.
She is running through the spaceship she has called home for all of her life. The alarms are blaring along with the flashing lights, and in the distance all around her, she can hear heavy footfalls rushing about. She knows everyone on board is looking for her by now (everyone but one, at least), but that doesn’t scare her or make her stop, it only makes her more determined to press herself harder and faster.
She has to pause at the next corner of the corridors when she hears two soldiers whispering frantically. She presses her back to the wall just out of sight and listens to them for the moment, simply waiting for them to either leave or to see if she will be forced to retreat. She could easily take them both, but she knows it will bring unwanted attention, as well as merit even more anger from her asshole captor.
They’re panicking over not being able to find her, obviously afraid of what their boss will do to them if none of them find her before she escapes. She almost feels sorry for the brainless idiots. No wonder her skills rank highest on the ship. Not that they recognise her skill, though, either angry, jealous, disgusted by or just afraid of her. Save for two Elders, of course, she outranks them all–though, she is stronger than both combined...by far. It must be why ‘Asshole Face’ has always hated her so much. But after over a century, she can take no more; she must escape. With or without her dearest (and only) friend in the entire universe.
There’s a sudden pause before one soldier asks the other, “Can you smell that?”
Her eyes widen in horror at her error, and just as quickly, she takes a silent gulp of air, holding her breath to activate the cloaking of both her skin and her scent. She freezes just as she the two soldiers stalk around the corner to check out the scent. She looks at them both as they both look right through her before glancing around with clueless expressions. She closes her eyes in relief when they huff and finally move on. And when they are out of sight, she finally releases her breath to take in another.
Immediately, she turns on her heel and takes off running again. She manages to make it all the way to the loading bay. She’s punching in the buttons to power up one of the pods when she’s suddenly grabbed at the neck from behind. She’s hauled back and tossed against another pod, smashing it to pieces with her unbreakable body. She huffs, grits her teeth as she pushes herself up and turns to face the soldier who has found her.
“You come quietly, freak! Do NOT make me hurt you!”
She blinks, stares, mildly amused when he comes charges towards her with an angry roar. At the last moment, she takes a tiny side step, grips his sword hand with one of her hands, while using her other hand to punch through his chest. She yanks his heart out, letting it drop to the floor at her feet before his now limp body does. And as always right after she has killed, she feels nauseous and guilty. She huffs again, turns back to the pod just to not to have to look at her “work.”
When she finally has the pod fired up with the coordinations all set for the nearest safe space, she’s dipping her first foot into the pod when the ship’s tannoy system fizzles and she hears Asshole Face’s smug voice calling tauntingly out to her...
“Little bird, I know we have never been the best of friends, but I could not bear to have you leave me...and neither could your darling father...”
“DON’T LISTEN TO HIM! KEEP RUNNING, GIRL! RU–oof!!”
She flinches at the clear sound of him being punched hard in the gut and being winded. Her foot is no longer in the pod. Nor does she take off running towards him. She feels stuck to her spot, rooted between both decisions. Save her only friend; and family. Or save herself, finally. She hates herself for daring to be either kind of coward.
“Come back to me now and I will spare you both. Don’t, and...well...”
Asshole Face trails off, and then she is screwing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth at the obvious sound of bones cracking before there is a loud shriek and series of angry hisses. And now, she hates herself because she has decided. If she goes back now, one of them will surely be killed just to punish the other. If she leaves now, of course they will not be gentle about it, but they will keep her dear friend alive as either leverage over her, or worse...
She decides for now that worse is better. Because it always has to get worse before it gets better. That is a good lesson her dear friend taught her. One of many good lessons.
—From being blasted through interstellar space in a two man pod, to suddenly standing back in that small dim lit room. She doesn’t panic, but then again, she didn’t panic when it actually happened. When he first entered that depressing room she called her home for so long, she had felt a warmth in her bones, just like she feels again now. She is looking up at him, back in her tiny body, as he stares back down at her.
He approaches her now, like he approached then, small steps, slowly and carefully edging over to her until he’s crouching down beside her. Even then–even now (even now-now always), he is still having to lean further down to meet her eyes properly.
He speaks to her and the words are fuzzy, but she knows what he’s saying because she remembers; “You are too thin, spawnling. I have a lot of work to do.” She smiles now, because she’s remembering the teasing twinkle of his eyes, but back then, she had scowled up at him, because she had thought she hadn’t impressed him.
He asks (again, only not really) if she knows who he is, and when she nods and he is rather overly happy for it, her heart now feels a flutter that it did not back then. She’s smiling softly and closing her eyes when he reaches up for her ooman-hair-wide tendrils, twirling them gently around his two fingers and careful with his claws. But she remembers the shy little smile she had given him when he tells her how very pretty they are. He picks her up into his arms, petting her head and telling her he will make her into the best warrior that ever lived, and she lets the memory take over as her child self simply nuzzles into her new friend’s warm chest.
It feels as real as it does in this moment now as her eyes snap wide open and she finally wakes from her cocktail of dreams and nightmares. Though, as usual, he never leaves without reminding her...
“...Naru, why do we fail?”
“So that we never fail again.”
Naru mumbles out the answer, almost on autopilot after doing so almost every other night for the last 20 years of her life.
“Good girl...”
She takes a deep breath, eyes screwing shut until she’s able to force his memory out of her mind altogether.
The older she got was bad enough for her to start hearing those words differently. The further away she is now is so much worse. Only makes the longing that much worse.
The only thing that makes her try harder to forget about him is the guilt over abandoning him.
Today is a new day. Something she tells herself at the start of every day. Only, at the end of each day, no matter how good, she’s still left at night with the same feelings.
Still, she is not only a survivor, because of him, she is a sain’ji.
She does not just survive.
She thrives.
And today is no different.
She may not be totally honest. But she loves a good hero. Something she knows she will never be.
But she still pretends. Because it makes her feel better of course, but also, really to help others where she can.
She thinks maybe one day, she can make up for all the blood she has shed.
Later That Night...
“You have a report so early, young thwei [blood]?”
“I do, Commander. I think The Elders will want to know about this, too.”
“...Go on.”
“I have seen one of His ships land here just a few hours ago. I am only telling you now because I wanted to report why they are here...”
The Commander growls. “What?! Young thwei, if you wish to use your free time to drink merrily, that is your own business, but please do not blur the lines between your separate lives. You better be certain of what you are telling me!”
“I swear it on Paya herself, Commander.” To which he knows will have him taken seriously, and does when his Commander tells him to explain. He does; “They seem to be searching for something. I don’t know what. Shall I find out, Sir?”
“Ic’jits. [Bad bloods.]” The Commander sounds annoyed, huffs tiredly before he says, “Yes. Good work, young thwei, your everlasting loyalty has been witnessed by Paya herself. Report back as soon as you have any new information.”
“Yes, Commander.”