Little Lightning

Chapter 27

Lyrical awoke with a gasp. She sat up, feeling for the knife she had stowed underneath her pillow. Her fingers met the cool leather surrounding the handle, and her body relaxed slightly. Cold sweat made the clothes Zaylee had dressed her in stick to her uncomfortably, and she could feel a bead of sweat run down her face.

Standing up, she grabbed the knife and stuck it into a belt loop on her pants. She moved over to the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror, hand braced on the left side of the circular sink, her sling keeping her other arm folded against her body. She stared at herself, at the dark circles underneath her eyes and her wet cheeks. She hadn't known she had been crying while dreaming. In the dream, definitely, but not in real life. Her dark brown hair was tangled and messy, several pieces of hair sticking up. Her green eyes were wide and panicked, and Lyrical closed her eyes in an attempt to clear the fear from them. When she opened them again, the image of her twelve year old reflection flashed in front of her eyes, briefly taking over the image in the mirror.

Lyrical stumbled back, hand going to her head. Her back hit the cool tile of the wall behind her and pain sparked down her arm, her shoulder crying out with pain. She sank down to the floor, letting out a dry sob. She pulled her legs towards her, as far as she could without hurting her shoulder, and hung her head, allowing her hair to hide her face.

Terrifying images of her father looming over her plagued her mind. She had to look up just to reassure herself that he wasn't there, that she was ok. Her stomach churned with nausea, combining with the gnawing hunger she hadn't noticed was there to create a wicked storm of fear and panic.

Bile rose in her throat and she jerked towards the toilet. She retched, nothing but the sour-tasting bile coming out. Gentle hands pulled her hair back from her face, and she could feel the tears run down her cheeks and drip into the toilet. She looked up to see Kace, his brown eyes kind and worried. She let out a quiet sob and her enveloped her in his arms, his brotherly affection clear in his gentle movements. She sobbed into his shirt quietly, trying in vain to control the tears rising up in her, everything that she had experienced in the past twenty four hours inciting such a flood of tears there was no stopping them.

She had gone four years without showing any sign of trauma from those days. She had resolved when she had left the house for the last time, at the age of 15, that she would forget about what happened. That she would start over, with a blank slate, and become one of the greatest pilots ever known, just so that people in the neighborhood wouldn't look at her with pity, with sympathy, and whisper things like 'What a poor child...' or '...bless her, it must be so hard....'. Instead, they would come up to her and ask her about her adventures or ask for her autograph, and remember her as the youngest pilot to ever go into space, as the first teenager to pilot a space ship, not as the broken little girl who had lost her mother to cancer and her father to alcohol addiction.

Somehow, Kace had known about her father. Maybe he had lived in her neighborhood and she had just never noticed, maybe he had done research on her background to see what kind of pilot she might be, but somehow, he had known. Kace was the one who she had never needed to explain to. From the way he acted around her, she had a sense he had gone through something similar.

So she sat there, sobbing into Kace's shirt, thanking whoever had gifted her such a kind and understanding friend with her entire being.

Once she had run out of fluids to cry, she pulled back.

"Thanks, Kace." She whispered, her throat hoarse from crying. He only have her a small smile and ruffled her hair like she was a little kid. She knew it was his way of saying 'You're welcome'. He stood up and offered her a hand. She took hit.

"You should probably change." He said quietly, pointing to a stack of clothes next to the shower. "Zaylee sent me to check on you earlier. You were crying out a little in your sleep."

"Oh, ok. Thank you." Lyrical blinked, also suddenly grateful for Zaylee. Kace only smiled again and nodded, then left her in the bathroom. She stripped out of her clothes and pulled off her bandage carefully, wincing as the sweat made the bandage stick to her skin and tug the wound. She turned on the hot water, careful not to make it too hot so as not to anger the wound. She stood there in the relatively warm water and inhaled the steam, the metallic smell of air heavy with water calming her slightly. She stepped out and found some bandages in the small cabinet by the sink. She re-wrapped her wound, her eyes watering slightly at the pain, then dressed in the clothes Zaylee had sent with Kace. As she unfolded them, she stopped.

Zaylee had sent her a ballgown. Well, it looked like it could be worn at a ball. It was a deep blue, with long, flowy, billowing sleeves that looked large enough to fit her entire head in. Gold constellations and stars adorned the bottom and crawled up the knee length skirt, though they were no constellations she had ever seen before. Gold stitching adorned the hem and the square collar. She turned it around and found it had a matching deep blue hood and coat that went down to mid calf. After a moment of contemplation, she realized it was probably for the meeting with the Tribune. It would makes sense. After all, the Tribune were the ones who took away Zaylee's and Zyan's true forms, so dressing well might increase their chances of getting it back sooner, even if only a little bit. Sighing, she slipped the dress on and looked at herself in the mirror. The dress was surprisingly comfortable and light, the cloth somehow still keeping her warm. Sighing, she tried to finger comb her wet hair, at least making a part down the middle and braiding it so that it fell down her back. The end of the braid reached her waist. She glanced at the slippers Zaylee had provided, then decided to forgo those and just wear the combat boots Lyrical had borrowed from Kalypso. Her eyes caught on the knife and she fastened it to her belt. For all she knew, she might need it.

She walked out of the bathroom and sleeping quarters and found everyone else in the kitchen, dressed up in equally fancy garb. She found Kirtash immediately, then looked away as soon as their gazes collided. Kalypso was wearing an olive green dress that looked a lot like Lyricals, only with light green flowers and leaves patterned on the skirt. Zaylee wore a light blue one, white clouds adorning the skirt, a gold sun bright against the blue in the corner. Lucas ran up to her and gave her a hug. She looked down at him and noticed immediately that his bandages had been taken off. A scar marred his cheek and his hand, the only remaining proof of the way he had fought Spike only three weeks before, though it had felt like it had been much longer.

"Lucas! You got your bandages off!" Lyrical exclaimed, a smile creeping across her face.

"Yeah! And look! Zaylee made me a suit to wear!" He puffed out his chest, a proud smile on his face. It was true, he was wearing a suit. It was a darker blue than Lyricals, so dark it was almost black. It was all dark Blue, except for a little gold star embroidered on the inside of his left wrist. Azalea was wearing a dress that matched Lucas's and looked a lot like Lyricals. The top was a blue that was about the same blue that Lyrical was wearing, but it faded into the dark blue that Lucas was wearing.

"You look very handsome, Lucas." She laughed and ruffled his hair, to which he pushed her hands away and attempted to straighten his hair again, a pout on his face.

"We're all here." Zaylee said quietly. Lyrical felt a hand on her non-injured shoulder and she looked to Kace, offering a small smile of appreciation, yet another thank you for earlier. Kace nodded slightly and took his hand off her shoulder. Lyrical could feel Kirtash's gaze burning into her, but refused to look at him.  Instead, she looked to everyone else. They all looked at each other, all of them, even Lucas, understanding what was at stake here. Zaylee took a deep breath. "Well, let's get this over with. Let's go meet the Tribune."