Baring her fangs and frightening Marana was not what Zov’ha had intended to do in response to hearing herself being called ‘Zov’. Is Zovhara even my name? Or is it someone I knew? Or someone I was? She closed her eyes in the darkness — it was winter and the sun did not rise until later in the day. Sleep eluded her, and so in the twilight of dawn, she meditated.

It was more than a week ago that the giant beast had been felled. Segran and Efiros had been injured, but were recovering well, albeit slowly — the weather did not help to alleviate their pain. Her group had decided to stay at Pilopia until the wounded had recovered and the ramshackled village had been rebuilt. 

The single room that Zov’ha was given was dank and reeked of mildew. It was on the second level of a two-storeyed building that had served as a thrift store before the festival. Merchandise had been packed and shoved into the basement to make space for the travellers. Though her room was comfortable, she did not like it much. She would have very much liked to sleep on the couch in front of the fireplace in the lobby below, but it was crowded now with many travellers drinking and laughing.

In the week that had gone by this room had been a stage for inquisition. A few soldiers from the KOE squadron had witnessed her fall from the raging beast towards the reservoir — how had she survived it? They had questioned her until she was exhausted. She had repeated over and over that she did not know how she had come to rescue her pet bear — that she had blacked out the moment she had swung off the beast’s head. She should have died, they said. Her body should have been smashed to bits. Leaving out the details of what she had felt and seen, knowing that they would never believe her and probably think that she was delirious, she told them she probably fell into the reservoir. There was still the case of how she made it out so quickly to save Efiros, and for that she had no answers. When they grew weary of the interrogation they simply left her with an official letter for a court summon in Aeroz at a later date.  

But the KOE was not important now. There were other things — the water… the reservoir. How did she save Efiros? She remembered vaguely, flowing, like a stream of liquid in the air, meandering however she pleased. Her body, she remembered, had been fluid — she had felt an inner turbulence… bubbles rising… there had been crests and troughs on her skin. She needed an explanation… she needed it now. And there was only one person who could help her. But she was not sure anymore. 

Zov’ha realised that Marana was unusually quiet these days — even when they had embraced after bringing down the beast, Zov’ha had felt like she was losing her friend. In the days after the hunt, Marana had been busy helping rebuild the village, or was she purposely staying away from Zov’ha? Again, she thought of the time she had snarled at Marana. What had triggered such a reaction, she could not fathom. ‘Zov.’ A face came to mind with that name — her name? Someone used to call her that. She could feel her heart beginning to pound against her chest. It was not the first time she had felt these annoying palpitations that had lasted for hours. It interfered with her sleep. Sometimes she would hold her breath hoping that the sensation would stop. 

‘Zov.’ Now, she imagined a silhouette and a face — a boy, young, in his teens. There were spikes on his cheeks — a Calcar. Definitely not the wolf-eyed boy from her visions, this was someone else. Someone who had been closer to her in the past. The boy’s lips were moving. What are you saying? His eyebrows were knotted in an expression that Zov’ha inferred as both determined and concerned. Whatever he was saying, she realised that he kept repeating it. 

‘Zov’, the first word he said was her shortened name. It did not make her angry this time. Continuing to lip read, she made out the words, ‘people’ and ‘need’. Everything else seemed hazy. 

‘What are you saying?’ She said out loud, her own voice breaking her concentration, and the boy vanished from her thoughts. 

She had been unreasonable, getting upset like that at being called ‘Zov.’ She realised that though she had apologised to Marana about it at the time, she had never really spoken to her about it again. Yes, Marana was avoiding her, and for good reason. And she may never look at Zov’ha the same way again. Nonetheless, Zov’ha had to try and apologise again. Talking to Marana about it would probably reduce the tension between them. Strengthening her resolve, she took a deep breath and prepared to meet her friend. 

‘Been at this for hours, Lint. Focus!’ Marana said, exasperated. Pacing about as she held her head between her hands. She had been given space to live in the attic of the Pilopian Care Centre. It was a small chamber right under the slanting roof. Lint’s direct line to her wristband, which she had placed on her desk, showed a hologram of him seated comfortably on a couch in his apartment back in Aeroz. He was sipping on what looked like a very tall glass of iced tea, and he smoked dooz from his pipe occasionally. ‘I’ve always trusted my guts. It’s true, I can feel it. Zovhara is good.’

‘You sure it’s alright to trust your guts?’ came Lint's voice from the device. ‘I mean, you’re forgetting the whole Jeshka business.’

‘What’re you implyin’, Lint,’ Marana was curt. She turned and stared at Lint hotly. ‘You sayin’ I messed up? Think I helped Jeshka ‘cuz I was emotionally attached? You don’t think Lüstravyr was a virtuous attempt to step up her game?’

‘Y’know what I think?’ Lint’s tone betrayed a hint of frustration. Marana folded her arms and pursed her lips, ‘I think you like to play god.’ 

Marana scoffed, her jaw dropping at his audacity, ‘I’m not playing god, Lint!’

‘Look, doc,’ Lint puffed out a cloud of smoke, which made Marana’s screen turn completely white for a while. ‘You said it y’self. Zov scared the livin’ shit outta ya. And don’t think the scout bot didn’t get that on footage. Haven’t shown it to Parpa yet. Don’t know the strings I hadda pull to get the sec team to shut up and hand over the tapes to me.’

‘What’re you suggestin’?’ Marana walked over to her desk and bent towards the screen, supporting herself with her arms on the surface of the rosewood tabletop. The smoke had cleared and she could see Lint again. ‘I wanna get to the bottom of this… but not for M.A.R.T. and not for me. I’m doin’ it for Zovhara.’ 

‘There you go again,’ Lint threw up his hands. ‘Swallow that god complex…’

‘Lint!’ Marana barked, now thoroughly frustrated. ‘I’m serious…’

‘Jeez, doc,’ he slid down on the couch, threw his head back and took a good long pause. They had been conversing for hours now. Marana had told him everything that had transpired at Pilopia — the chase, the stunt over the gloomhog’s head, the fall —- everything. She had been shaken by the events, but what had frightened her the most was the incident by the waterfall. The anger in Zov’ha’s eyes had been unnatural —- almost primal. There was no other way to describe it. Lint was the only person she could trust, even though he had babbled about her escapades to Parpa. It was typical of Lint. Always playing the good guy, especially when it came to climbing the corporate ladder. But she knew that he would never cross the line, especially when it came to true friendship. He was trustworthy. ‘A’ight, there’s two things we can do.’ 

‘You can skip to the one that’s less insane,’ Marana mumbled, to which Lint chuckled, his head still thrown back, relaxed on the head of the couch. 

‘Nope. I’ll give you the options… you choose,’ he took another puff of dooz from his pipe. ‘A scout bot’s got bio-scanners…’

‘Suck on a calspine!’ Marana interrupted him immediately. ‘That’s against the law! Those scanners are for lamsters and corpses only. Next.’

‘A’ight, fine. Nick her biochip, then,’ Lint replied. ‘All I got.’

‘Nick her… you out of your mind?’ Marana’s voice was hoarse now, she was thirsty but swallowed to keep going. ‘That’s worse than option one! I can’t steal the chip from between her twins! That’s criminal! Identity theft…ever heard of that? Or has bein’ up with the board guys eating away your…?’

‘Look, doc,’ Lint mumbled, now a little intoxicated with the dooz. ‘Just think about it, a’ight. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.’

‘What if I’m caught, Lint?’ Marana raised her voice, trying to get her point across. ‘You even think of how that’d affect my rep before suggestin’ an idea as crazy as that? All that I’ve worked for all my life…’

‘Doc, stop,’ Lint finally straightened up, now bending forward. Marana could not see his eyes — he always hid them behind fancy, high-tech eyegear, but she knew he was looking directly at her. ‘You wanna help her don’ya? Maybe if you ask nicely, she may just hand it over. Just think about it, yeah? And you ain’t usin’ that data, now, are ya? It’s gonna be between you and me.’

Marana took her time to think it over. Every Aerozan, or a visitor to Aeroz, had an implanted chip on their chest, which was primarily used to get a heart-scan for security purposes. The coin-sized metal chip had three memory banks, each of which could easily be slid out with the press of a pinpoint. One of them was a biochip, which constantly scanned the wearer’s body for signs of health problems or diseases. A biochip also contained complete information of the person’s body — mutations, composition, genetic information, and to some extent, brainwaves. This information was usually accessed after the person was diseased, or for investigation of criminal activities, and was forbidden to be used for any other purpose. 

Going through Zov’ha’s biochip may give Marana a chance to figure out what was going on with that woman. It would also help to quell her suspicions about Zov’ha being a perfect human with no mutations. She had seen Zov’ha’s exposed right shoulder and arm after Efiros was rescued — perfect with no mechanical embellishments. She had witnessed Zov’ha’s concealed strength — once at Lüstravyr, where she had impaled her enemy with something she called as Frost Ash — and again when she survived her fall, she seemed to have some sort of dark, inky fluid within her veins, which dissipated within seconds. Nothing could explain how she had survived. 

The biochip was the answer. But how would she ask her for it? Zov’ha wanted to understand this supernatural strength within her, which Marana could not even begin to explain. Maybe Lint was right — if Zov’ha thinks that I’m helping her understand her strength, she may just allow me to analyse her biochip.

‘I gotta go, Lint,’ Marana said finally. ‘I… I don’t know what I’m gonna do.’

‘What if I come down there and…’

‘You stay put!’ Marana interrupted him. ‘Don’t want the chick thinkin’ we both tryin' to pry out info from her. KOE’s already been grindin' her about all that’s happened.’ 

‘I’ll only be there for support, doc,’ Lint reassured her, taking another puff of dooz. ‘Swear I won’t say a word to Zov.’ 

‘Yeah don’t call her that when you’re here,’ Marana said, calming down. Having a friend like Lint around would surely ease the stress she had been feeling lately. ‘That’s another thing I gotta sort out with her.’ 

‘Be there tomorrow. Never seen Nightflame… be nice to be part of the festival for once,’ he said, half-smiling. When Marana gave him the slightest of nods, he winked and disconnected.

The Nightflame Festival begins today. Preparations were already underway, alongside the rebuilding of the village. Farmers across the land celebrated the coming of the winter harvest by putting out every light in the village, staring at the stars above, drinking spirits, and merrymaking. This would last for many days. Everyone would be in a good mood — including Zov’ha. Marana had to try talking to her about everything that had happened, but she didn’t believe she could. Just thinking of Zov’ha made her aware of the heaviness in her chest. The primal rage she had seen in her eyes was unworldly and unforgiving. No — she could not do this alone. 

Zov’ha had felt an unexplainable unease from the moment Lint had arrived at Pilopia. Marana had not mentioned a word about this ‘old friend’ of hers, and now she spent most of her time with him. Zov’ha had not been able to speak to Marana, as being around Lint made her very uncomfortable. A brief introduction was all Zov’ha had needed to forever avert her gaze from Lint’s watchfulness — with his eyes hidden behind metallic eyewear, she felt like even a glance in her direction was mocking, or was it lecherous? How does Marana stand being around him?

Marana, on the other hand, had not been able to bring herself to look at Zov’ha. Casual greetings were all she had managed. Content with spending the first two days of Nightflame with Lint, she had ignored, or pretended to ignore, everyone else. 

Dismayed by the change in Marana’s attitude, Zov’ha had turned her thoughts towards Efiros. The bear was recovering well in Sinovan’s care. His serious internal injuries were healing after a nerve-wrecking surgery by the paramedic teams. However, his trauma was slow to subside. 

Episodes of hysterical rampage and spasms often came upon the poor creature, but over the week those episodes had reduced, and Zov’ha had spent most of her time consoling the cub. Rubbing the oval stone hanging from the collar around his neck, she embraced him, lying there for hours.

Segran was back on his feet — his enthusiasm and energy had surprised everyone. Being the strongest person there, he could single-handedly raise the beams around a plunge pool of Sjinitov reservoir, which would hoist the fluorescent flags and banners of the Nightflame festival. 

The festival had begun in grandeur with music and dance. But Zov’ha had witnessed none of it. On the second night of the festival, Efiros looked like he was making some progress. He was walking around indoors and playing with Segran, whenever he came to visit. Zov’ha realised that it was safe to leave his side and time to think about packing. She had to report back to Rover’s Guild in Aeroz. The only thing holding her back now was the unfinished business with Marana. I don’t care if she doesn’t want to be amicable anymore, I just need to apologise to her… then I can leave. Zov’ha had lived alone for a long time and she had liked to keep her secrets. She had her own problems to worry about. Relationships with people were never something she wanted… it was an unnecessary weight upon the shoulders. Keep away those who seek to burden others with their troubles, for the scars of the heart never heal, they only seek to poison — she wondered where she had heard this phrase before, but dismissed it as a passing thought. 

It would get dark soon, and the whole village would gather at the plunge pool to the east, near the reservoir. Zov’ha took a deep breath before heading off to confront Marana.