Thrilled to be back at the headquarters of the Mechanov Association of Research and Technology, or M.A.R.T., Doctor Marana Skjavok paced merrily about the facility, greeting everyone she knew, or did not know, making her way to her splendidly equipped laboratory. Her facility was in a luxurious skyscraper that stood tall in Aeroz’s high-profile district — Yomu’hra. Those who saw Marana get back to her endeavours, as if she had never been absent from M.A.R.T., would say that she was not just thrilled, but overjoyed. 

It had been a few weeks since her return, and after many hours of gruelling interrogation sessions with three of the seven confederacies, during which she had given a complete report of her years at Lüstravyr, she was finally allowed to get back to her research. This decision was made based on the detailed log of her experiments at Lüstravyr that M.A.R.T. had salvaged, out of which had sprung several ideas for novel research and improving existing technologies. Having been provided with the best facilities on the highest level of the building, and an entire team to help her, she was tasked with creating a better future for the handful of Xalians living in Aeroz. 

A dome-shaped, glass roof and tall windows illuminated her laboratory with sunlight throughout the day. At night, the citylights below shone brilliantly, offering a spectacular view. While she was blissfully gazing at a screen on a pedestal in the centre of the room, a lean, pale Mechanov walked in through the automatic doors. He wore an expensive suit, which covered most of his biomechanical limbs. Parts of his face were protected by metallic plates, and he sported a technical piece of eyewear. Marana smiled and walked up to greet him, ‘Damn, Lint! I knew you’d show up one of these days! I’d half-expected you to quit after I hightailed it outta here.’

‘Doctor Skjavok,’ he chuckled, swinging his arm animatedly to slap it into her extended palm. ‘I was itchin’ to see you when I heard you were back.’ He bent close and mumbled, ‘Most of us bet you’d never return, ay. We thought you’d retire out there.’ He saw the joy drain from Marana’s face. If all had gone according to plan, and if Jeshka were still alive, yes, she probably would have retired in Lüstravyr. Lint straightened up, realising he had hit a raw spot, ‘I’m sorry about her. I never…’ 

‘Stop it, Lint,’ Marana smiled again, waving her hand. ‘Compassion doesn’t suit you. Can’t be helped, chum… I’m just glad I’m back. I heard you kiss-assed your way to the top.’

‘Workin’ for the board now,’ Lint replied, folding his arms. ‘You need anything from them, I’m your man!’ 

They were interrupted by a booming voice, ‘I hope our facility’s standards haven’t deteriorated ever since you took your leave.’ It was a tall, dark-skinned, middle-aged Mechanov dressed smartly, with an air of authority about him. 

‘Parpa Dourne!’ she smiled, albeit with a little less cheer. Lint respectfully nodded. ‘Deteriorated? Seems more decked up to me! Can’t say I’m not overwhelmed that I gotta up my skills. I’m glad to be back, old man!’ 

‘And we’re glad to have you back,’ he said, looking around at the refurbished laboratory. Parpa was the longest-running president of M.A.R.T. Though he had started off as a hover-vehicle mechanic, he had made his way up through the complex political structure of the confederacy over the years, earning himself a respectable position. Marana despised politicians and diplomats, but Parpa was less corrupt than the others, a kind person, and had helped her and others in many ways. 

‘May I have a word with you privately?’ Parpa raised an eyebrow. Nodding at Marana, Lint took his leave, and she showed the president to an adjacent room that served as her office. Marana could see her magnificent laboratory through the glass wall that separated the chamber. Parpa sat down on the couch available for visitors and spoke in a low voice to ensure that none of Marana’s subordinates could hear him, even though she had closed the door, ‘Tell me about this young woman Zovhara.’ 

Marana folded her arms and squinted her eyes, ‘Typical! It’s been, what, two years, and the first time we meet face-to-face you’re already looking for tidbits for your damn political agendas?’

Parpa took a deep breath and looked at Marana fondly. She knew this about him — always calculative and precise, he would take his time to choose the right words even if it meant a long, uncomfortable silence. ‘I meant no disrespect,’ he said finally. ‘I want to know about Jeshka and what happened at Lüstravyr. I want to know everything in detail. We’ve planned a special soiree for you this week. Let’s chat about it then.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Marana scoffed, half-grinning. ‘Zovhara is all the rave right now, isn’t it?’ 

‘Everything about her is hush-hush,’ he continued in a low voice. ‘No one knows where she’s from. But I’ve heard whispers that the KOE and Merchants know stuff about her — that she’s got some unique talents, that one. And since you’ve spent so much time with her, I thought M.A.R.T. should have an advantage over that knowledge.’ 

‘Look, Parpa,’ Marana said, shaking her head and exhaling in annoyance. ‘You were a part of the investigation. I’ve spilled everything I know to you guys. I’ve said the same stuff to KOE and the Merchants. There’s nothin’ else, honest.’ 

This time, Parpa squinted. He turned away from her and pointed at a biosafety cabinet in her laboratory, within which was encased Zov’ha’s lance. ‘What about that?’

‘What about it?’ Marana asked, her voice cracking up a little. ‘I promised M.A.R.T. that I would study it and provide a full account of what I’d find.’ 

‘Strange, isn’t it?’ He leaned forward on the couch. ‘A mysterious woman and her bear suddenly show up in Aeroz, with a weapon that can bring down a castle. A woman who was seen at every major incident that has happened in the last few months and yet she managed to escape unharmed. She has apparently asked KOE to keep her out of it, and they’ve gladly obliged, but people talk, Marana. Some say that she has no visible mutations, that she isn’t Mechanov or Poban or Calcar, that she’s a perfect human. Is that true?’ 

Marana looked away for a moment. She knew this. And it bothered her as well. Who was this woman? Why was she here? She knew that Zov’ha herself did not know the answers to these questions, and Marana had promised she would help. But this information was not something she could share freely. 

‘I don’t know, Parpa, she was always fully-covered,’ Marana lied, knowing full well what Zov’ha looked like. ‘She had some fur on her face like a Poban, but she never took off her hood or gas mask while I was around. I’m sure she has her flaws and she’s hiding them like we all do. But I am not going to ask her, or try to find out. Isn’t that the Aerozan way?’ 

Parpa reclined back on the couch, processing Marana’s words. Yes, this was the Aerozan way — never ask another human about their mutations or where they are from. Aeroz was a free city-country that welcomed everyone from across the shattered world — it was a haven. He looked at her sideways and said, ‘I only ask that you tread carefully. There is more to her than a simple vagabond who finds herself coincidentally in bad situations. She could be dangerous.’

Marana realised that Parpa’s concern for her was genuine. He loved all Mechanovs, as if they were a clan and he was their leader. But she did not want to give him the impression that she would obey him or ask for his sympathy. ‘She is a good person, Parpa. There’s nothing you or M.A.R.T. need to be concerned about,’ she replied, looking away from him and at her laboratory.

For a moment, it looked like Parpa was going to say something more on the matter, but seeing that Marana was not interested in talking about Zov’ha anymore, he stood up, ‘Let’s catch up at the soiree. Most of the board will be there. They won’t ask about Zovhara, as courtesy, but be prepared to receive condolences from sympathisers.’ He nodded at her and took off, leaving the door open behind him. 

Marana walked out of her office and over to the glass case that contained Zov’ha’s lance. It was found amongst the ruins of a farm, and she had said it had belonged to a raider. Where would a savage raider find such a relic? Was she lying? Marana had already completed the first round of analysis on the relic. The only part of the lance that did not match any materials known to the Aerozans were the dark crystals embedded within the slits of the lance head. This was not a safe environment for further testing — she needed space — lots of space. Making sure that none of the other laboratory personnel were around, she entered her primary code into the screen beside the glass case, which was secured, with access to no one but herself. She turned off the system and walked away with the lance. 

It was the end of summer, and though the cold season in Aeroz was more pleasant compared to the unforgiving winters of the lands in the northeast, people were already preparing to keep themselves warm by purchasing woollen apparels at the Grand Market. While the docks and the city’s centre were brimming with vehicles and shoppers, the outskirts remained quiet. A magnificent district, Old Aeroz’s rustic ambience was augmented by white-barked trees whose boughs were laden with crimson-coloured leaves. As if the dusk was not elegant enough, the fading sunlight bathed the landscape in gold and white.      

Carpeted with the fallen autumn leaves, Farianvale Park was desolate, except for four adventurers and a bear gathered beneath a clump of wattles. Marana had driven her hover-buggy from Yomu’hra to Old Aeroz to rendezvous with Zov’ha and the two calcar brothers, Sinovan and Segran, who were now briefly unemployed and had been accompanying Zov’ha on her tasks from the guild. Marana had done some research to help Zov’ha with understanding her past and the mysterious Frost Ash that seemed to possess her. But the best way to learn more, she realised, was to go along with the little party on one of their missions. 

Zov’ha had finally started using her hoverbike that she had seized from the raiders that had attacked them on their way to Aeroz, a few months back. After going through a tedious registration process, the bike was now locked to her personal code, or Personum, as they called it colloquially. Revving the bike’s ignition was a bit tedious as she had to bend close to the puny dashboard to scan the chip-implant embedded in her chest, which she compulsorily had to get implanted on her first day in Aeroz. But it was all worth it — riding the bike elated her — it felt natural, as if she had been doing this for a long time. 

‘Neolish,’ Marana said to Zov’ha, as they walked towards the hover-buggy. ‘You know and speak it, which most Aerozans do as well — but it’s not what other townies of Morowyth speak.’ 

‘Everyone I’ve met speaks Neolish,’ Zov’ha whispered, even though she didn't mind the calcar brothers overhearing them. Sinovan was busy loading all the items they had packed for their trip onto Marana’s hover-buggy. Segran, seated in the vehicle, was busy playing fetch with Efiros. ‘And I don’t seem to know or recall other languages.’

‘Curious,’ Marana said, her expression showing that she was lost in thought. Zov’ha was definitely not from Aeroz, even though she could speak Neolish. The only other place, according to Marana’s thorough search of the Aerozan online libraries, where Neolish was spoken were the Eastern parts of Xerbia.  ‘Just checkin’, does “Xerbia” ring any bells?’

‘Just… from the Guild members,’ Zov’ha lied. She had also heard it from Amaha, the mysterious fox-lady who she had met recently. But she was not ready to reveal that to Marana just yet.

‘Right,’ Marana continued, producing a holographic map of the continent on her wristband, ‘and from what you've said about the crazy red fog and all, that’s Hell’s Teeth mountains. I’m guessin’ you’re either from Ultrania, Dun Nagur, Kalgez, or Asenya.’ This time Zov’ha’s eyes widened noticeably. Marana pursed her lips, ‘Asenya? Guild members again?’

‘Yes,’ Zov’ha replied bashfully. ‘But I’ve also had vivid memories of that place. Though they’re all broken, and if you asked me to recall them now, I wouldn’t be able to.’

‘There’s Asenya,’ she pointed at a large city located in the mountain range labelled “Ire’zol”. ‘Know that place?’ 

Zov’ha’s mind swirled with the names of the places marked within Asenya. "Lower Ire’zol", "Lod’var Asenya", "Ey’dvar Asenya"... Yes! She knew these names! She felt she could simply reach out and all those memories would come flooding back, and yet she could not. It was like a word hanging loosely at the tip of her tongue, and the harder she thought about it the further it seemed to recede. 

Marana waited patiently, watching as Zov’ha’s grey-coloured eyes moved rapidly in recollection. She had fairly large irides with surprisingly small pupils — eyes quite like someone she knew… someone whose eyes she was used to looking into… was it… Jeshka? Marana suddenly looked away. The abrupt movement brought Zov’ha out of her trance.  

‘I’m not sure I can recall anything, Marana,’ Zov’ha said dejectedly. ‘The places seem familiar, but my thoughts are scattered, and I can’t seem to piece them together. What have you learnt about… the other thing?’ 

She looked at Zov’ha sideways, hoping not to be enamoured by her eyes again. ‘About the lance?’ 

‘That too,’ Zov’ha replied, shaking her head, which made her ash blond hair bounce animatedly — she had forgotten about her weapon. ‘But I meant Frost Ash — the strength within my blood that I can’t control.’ 

Shaking her wrist lightly to turn off the holographic map, Marana bent over her buggy and picked up the lance, which Zov’ha eyed with uncertainty, ‘Yeah, I wrecked the data grids searchin’ for Autoichorium. Still a lot to dig up, girl, but as far I know, that’s probably not what’s in your skin. Tell you what,’ she handed the lance to Zov’ha, ‘we’ll figure what shit’s on this lance first. Then you hop on the first hoverbus to Yomu’hra next week and come visit my lab. We’ll get your blood samples runnin’ in the system to see what’s eatin’ ya.’ Zov’ha smiled in agreement. Marana crooked her head towards her buggy, ‘Let’s ride!’ 

Segran, Sinovan, and Efiros hopped onto the passenger seats of the buggy, and Marana took the wheel. Zov’ha led the little party on her hoverbike, speeding off into the wilderness beyond the park. A message popped up on Marana’s wristband as she started the vehicle. Seeing that it was from Lint, she looked sideways at the brothers behind to make sure they did not catch her reading it: 

You’d think a world class scientist would know how to cover her trail… they’re watching you doc. Plus, I might’ve slipped a bit about you and your girlfriend to the old man… oops! Parpa may have questions when you’re done gallivanting… try to act normal when you’re back. 

‘Dammit, Lint!’ Marana cursed under her breath.