❖ ''ZF 16 Ariomma to unknown vessel. Please identify yourself. Over.'' ❖
Farah and Kazem are twins working aboard the Ariomma, a trading airship that sails the edges of a flat world. Out here is a frontier far from civilization: a place known as the...
⚠️ Content Warning: This chapter contains graphic depictions of violence. Reader discretion is advised ⚠️
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Esfandiar was chillingly thorough in his search of the backup control room, then of the maintenance access room above it. Farah's hand ached from gripping her knife by the time the door on the side of the Ariomma's upper tailfin opened. A glint of metal made her glad she had not tried to lay an ambush. Esfandiar lowered his knife. If they'd struck at each other on that narrow ledge, there was scarcely more than a majority chance that Farah would have struck faster.
Esfandiar paused for some time, then climbed the light metal staircase up the back curve of the envelope. Here he stood for a long moment. Letting his eyes adjust, most likely. The moon was on the other side of the world tonight, and though starlight lit the envelope like silver, Farah too had needed a moment after the cloying orange light of the ship's interior. Still, the view was unbarred, and it took Esfandiar only a moment more to spot Farah where she crouched on top of the envelope. He began to walk towards her. With his knife out and gleaming, there was no attempt at subtlety.
Farah stood. There were bitter times she was glad she had not been born into the body she wanted, and situations like these were among them. She and Esfandiar were of equal height, and though he was quite a bit broader, he still slowed. Any sane predator would have begun circling at the distance where he now stood. He continued to walk straight. His thoughts were impenetrable—nothing but hideous emotions.
Esfandiar stopped half a gondola's distance from Farah. His knife reflected the starlight as he clenched it tighter. "Give up," he growled over the rush of the wind. "I know you did it."
"I didn't. If you actually paid attention to the evidence, you would know."
He laughed, but repressed fear gave it a crazy tone. "Bold words coming from a murderer."
He was unhinged. Talking wouldn't work; Esfandiar had a reality locked in his head now, and it made Farah even more glad she hadn't let Kaz get drawn into this. Who knew what Esfandiar was capable of in this state.
"I know you did it," said Esfandiar again, brandishing his knife. "Why? Couldn't tell you. I'll bet you keep it that way, don't you? Keeps people scared of you, when they can't predict who you'll kill next, or where, or why." He advanced. "Maybe there is no reason. Didn't think you held a grudge against him; no one did. Was it just for fun? For the thrill? Or are you turning us against each other again, like you did with Jhaṛa back there after your little scouting mission?"
Farah stiffened. He was not so unperceptive after all.
Esfandiar's laugh this time was even more manic. He must be browning his pants, the fear pitched his voice so high. "You were, weren't you. I knew it. Didn't see it then, but hindsight is crystal, you know they say. You do it all the time, don't you. Turn people against each other, so they don't come for you. Or maybe so you can get away with twisted things; who knows. People like you shouldn't be allowed to adulthood, you know? Society's better off without you."
