Cantral The Entra

I can't see a reason not to.

My feet hang off Zafira's bed as I lie next to her still, sleeping body. Red blankets cover her in folds and creases, and they rest over my legs too. Her slumber makes me miss my nightly stints in an incubation unit, a time to shut off and think of nothing. A time to put away my worry. Now, my mind buzzes constantly.

Thoughts of the universe, of the battles that rage across it, of native populations rising and killing entra, of entra turning on each other in a bid for power, they all tangle within my mind. Fendan comes into my thoughts too, worry over his plans, worry over my own involvement and worry about leaving Oneera.

I don't want to leave Oneera, I don't want to return to a life of fighting. Here, for the first time in my life, happiness feels like an option. The sun slinks in through a gap in the curtains, prying and insistent, is she watching? Is she pleased Haroc is gone? Light falls across the room, it hits shelves filled with models of tiny people, with soft hair and equally tiny, intricately decorated, clothes. It turns the walls a warm pink. I like this room, it speaks to the child within me, that was never able to exist.

Zafira stirs and then shoots bolt upright, she looks to me and flops back onto the bed. "I thought you'd gone."

"Still here." I smile.

Zafira rolls onto her side. "Have you told anyone what I did? You know, with Haroc?"

"No." Even Fendan's continued probing about Zafira's involvement would not force me to release the information. It's safer he doesn't know, it's safer no one knows what she's capable of.

"Do you think we can keep it a secret?"

"Yeah, I think we can." I smile. "I killed him, you were on the ship the entire time."

"Yeah, I just stayed on the ship." Zafira nods, enthusiastically. "My mother is really mad." She sighs.

"Can't you just make her feel differently?"

Zafira shakes her head. "Doesn't work on mum, she knows me too well, she's knows when I'm doing it. Some people are just less susceptible to it anyway. Fendan is difficult to influence, and you were too, in a way, but Haroc and Ramet were easier."

"Why was I difficult?"

Zafira shrugs. "Before you said that I didn't change you, that you had had thoughts like that all your life. I think if you hadn't already felt like that, I wouldn't have been able to influence you. You're stubborn and strong."

I flash a smile. "I'm also hungry, let's get some food."

I brush the creases out of my clothes and Zafira trots to the door in her fluffy pink pyjamas. The stairs creak as we descend. Time eludes me and I hope it's later than it feels, I hope everyone has gone. But as I take the last step there's a flash of movement and I see Ramet sat at the table.

The blood from yesterday has been washed from her face, her hair looks fresh, she looks fresh. She's wearing different clothes, black fitted trousers and a white t-shirt. She looks like herself again, like the person she was when I first met her. A smile illuminates her face and for the first time in months it feels like she's genuinely pleased to see me.

"Fendan and Haari just left. We'd get there in time if we left now," Ramet says. "You know, if you've changed your mind and want to go?"

Zafira shuffles into the kitchen, bangs and clangs colour the air. There's a pile of neatly folded clothes on the table with my name scrawled across a piece of paper upon them. I pull them closer and inspect them.

I sit at the table opposite Ramet. "I don't feel like celebrating. I'm pleased Haroc is dead, but I don't want a party with the Royals. It's too much. I don't want to go into the details, I'm happy for Fendan to take the credit."