“My trial was to decide her fate,” said Lianshi softly. “And at the same time, my own. I was a lowly acolyte like her. Turning her in would have elevated me to a position of privilege, granting me rights and lenience’s I could use to escape if I so wished in a year’s time. Running away with her would have been worse than foolish. Any of our older sisters could have hunted us down with ease.”
“What did you decide?” asked Leonis after a long pause.
“This time?” Lianshi’s smile was bleak. “To run away with her. I, too, thought of you both. The idea of betraying her was impossible, no matter how impossible our dream was.”
Scorio nodded slowly. “A heart-led decision.”
Leonis was watching Lianshi carefully, and when she met his gaze and immediately looked away, he frowned. “What is it? You’re not telling us something.”
“She doesn’t have to,” said Scorio immediately. “That’s her past. She can tell us as much or as little as she wants.”
“I think she wants to tell us though,” said Leonis. “Lianshi?”
“I…” She gazed down at her hands again. Took a deep breath, held it, then let it out a whoosh. “The sister that came to me is here, at the Academy. Juniper.”
Scorio felt his breath catch. “Juniper? Have you spoken to her? Does she have the same memories?”
“I haven’t,” said Lianshi quietly. “I haven’t dared. I’m not sure I want to know what she remembers. What I did in her version.”
“Huh,” said Scorio, leaning his head back against the wall. “But it’s like you said. This happened over a millennia ago.”
“And isn’t the fact that she’s here proof that you helped her get away?” asked Leonis.
“No,” said Lianshi. “My turning her in could have set her on a different path that led to her becoming important enough to be recruited in the demon war.”
“But she’s smiled at you,” said Scorio. “Seems friendly.”
Lianshi shrugged one shoulder uncomfortably. “But in my journals, I’ve read of the times I betrayed her. It’s in me. I have the capacity for that cold calculation. Who’s to say I didn’t the first time, given how I was raised, without friends and companions like you both?”
Scorio and Leonis sat quietly for a while.
“It’s your choice, of course,” said Scorio at last. “But I want to face Kuragin nonetheless. I want to know what he remembers. For better or worse.”
“I can understand that. And perhaps… in time, I’ll speak to Juniper.” Lianshi ran her fingers over the cover of her journal. “But for now, I want to stay on this fresh path I’m on, with you both, with Naomi. I was so excited to read these journals at first, but it’s becoming more and more daunting to do so. To read of the decisions I made, the mistakes, to learn of regrets, to see myself become someone I can’t even recognize. I’m thinking of putting them all away for a while and perhaps coming back to them, later.”
“I can see that,” said Leonis gravely. “When I learned that I’d been reincarnated over a hundred and twenty times, I felt almost a sense of fatalism. As in, what could I really do differently this time around? But I’ve found the best remedy to that is to simply not think about it at all, and focus on the moment, on being myself, on being true to what I feel and experience and care about now.”
“Fair enough,” said Scorio. “But I can’t let go of my past. I’m going to find Kuragin.”
Both of his friends stared at him.
“What, now?” asked Lianshi.
“Sure. He can’t sleep in the Kraken wing. I’m going to go knock on his door.”
“That’s a terrible idea,” said Leonis.
To which Scorio could only crack a grin. “Since when has that ever stopped me?”
They followed him, of course, as he strode out of the Aureate Hall and over to Kuragin’s area, Resplendent Hall. Scorio had been down its length only once, seeking to catch Kuragin two days before, but had been foiled by the slam of the Great Soul’s front door.
Not this time.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped up to the huge bronze portal, recessed like his own, and slammed his fist on it several times.
“Terrible idea,” whispered Leonis, glancing nervously both ways. “We’re past hours, tomorrow’s the run. We’ll be accused of interfering with Kuragin’s chances.”
“Just a friendly talk,” said Scorio. And pounded on the door again.
Which yanked open, and then there he was, towering over Scorio, the figure of his latest obsession, his elusive target, a man he’d sought so earnestly that seeing him now, right before him, was almost startling.
Kuragin’s snarl was near bestial. “What do you want, Scorio?”
Scorio stared up at the larger man. “We need to talk.”
“Wrong. You need to talk. I don’t. Now get out of here before I lose my patience.”
And Kuragin went to close the door.
Scorio stuck his boot in the way and stopped it from shutting altogether.
“Scorio,” hissed Lianshi.
“We need to talk,” said Scorio again. “And I think you know why.”
Kuragin’s dark eyes narrowed. “Put your foot in the way again and I’ll crush it.”
“You can try. Or you can just answer a few questions. This can be over in a moment.”
Kuragin seemed to consider, raising his chin and moving ever so subtly forward, crowding Scorio back. Or trying to. Scorio didn’t move.
“I owe you nothing and have even less of a desire to help you.”
Scorio met his stare full-on. “Just some questions, Kuragin. There’s got to be a way to convince you. Something you want.”
“What’s going on?” A voice from deeper in the room, and then one of Kuragin’s roommates stepped into partial view: Famissa, the woman with long black hair and tanned skin who’d worked with Scorio during his first week back at the Academy. “Scorio?”
“None of your business, Fam,” growled Kuragin.
“Fine,” said Scorio, “I’ll talk your language. Let’s duel for it.”
Lianshi groaned.
“Duel?” Kuragin seemed to be considering the idea. “And my prize?”
“What do you want?”
The larger man considered. “Win or lose, you refuse any healing beyond your own body’s abilities before tomorrow’s run.”
“Kuragin,” protested Famissa. “That’s obscene.”
“And a terrible idea,” said Leonis, stepping in beside Scorio to match Kuragin’s bulk with his own. “One, I’m guessing, that doesn’t apply to you?”
“Course not,” said Kuragin, baring his teeth in an expression that could barely be called a smile. “I’m not the one disturbing Scorio’s precious rest.”
“Then I think we’re done here,” said Leonis, turning away. “Let’s go, Scorio.”
“Run along, little boy,” said Kuragin. “You’ll never learn what happened to your brother.”
His words were like a slap. Scorio felt his cheeks burn, and closed his fists tightly enough to cause his knuckles to crack. His whole body tensed as a familiar fiery feeling swept through his veins, causing his muscles to quiver with barely restrained fury.
“Terms accepted,” he heard himself say.
“By the ten hells and every fiend who ever fornicated,” groaned Leonis. “Scorio!”
“Then let’s go,” said Kuragin, pushing forward, forcing Scorio back, who barely deigned to give way. “Fam, come as a witness.”
“This is asinine and cruel,” said Famissa, grabbing an overrobe from a door side hook even as she followed.
“Agreed,” said Lianshi. “Scorio, you are the greatest fool that ever walked in hell.”
Scorio ignored their words. One truth resonated in his mind, the only truth that mattered: Kuragin knew about his brother. Unprompted, he’d mentioned him, which meant his own trial had revealed something of their shared past.
A past that was a dark shroud, an abscess, a void. A life torn away from him by the process of reincarnation, and which his trial had shone but the briefest amount of light on.