Gargantuan G

One

Juno

Juno Lucianna Cassius stepped outside and was met with the brightest stream of sunlight she had ever seen. It literally blinded her, well, at least for a moment. As she gazed out upon the farm her Tap Screen chirped happily, "Message from Detective Nero Akimoto."

Detective Akimoto?

"Accept!' she practically shouted, dashing back inside to grab her Tap Screen. She expected a direct video message, but instead was met with a bland boilerplate font paragraph. It read:

Dear Miss Juno Cassius,

The case concerning the disappearance of Mr. Nicolaus Cassius has been closed due to the fact that it lacks enough evidence to produce a reasonable claim. We suspect that Mr. Cassius most likely committed suicide. We are terribly sorry for this inconvenience. A 75% refund will be provided if necessary.

Thank you for your time,

Nero Akimoto,

Xybalbahn Detective Agency.

Juno was too distracted to be angry that they wouldn't give her a full refund.

But....committed suicide? Nicolaus Cassius committed suicide? The idea was almost laughable. Her father was the happiest person she knew and she was friends with twidarians from La Bazah. Juno was confused, but most of all she was angry.

Angry at Akimoto for not bothering to even send a direct video message.

Angry at the Xybalbahn Detective Agency for not even caring about her father who might be kidnapped or even murdered.

And most especially, angry at her father. She knew it wasn't his fault, not that she knew of. But she hated him right then. For never being there for her. For not being particularly nice to her. For constantly telling her every day that the death of her mother was her doing. She knew she shouldn't hate him. But she did.

Juno wasn't heartless, though. Her father just wasn't that good at being a father. And she knew that it most likely wasn't his fault for.....whatever had happened to him. And she felt sorry for him! Really, she did. Well, mostly sorry. Kind of sorry. A little sorry.

But not really.

Maxx

Maxx could run away right now. He could stow away on a Bolter and eat whatever food was in the pantry. He would be safe, away from Artimenn, away from his family.

But his sister.....

Who would take care of Rheysa when he was gone? Who would protect her from their cousin when he got drunk?

You're underestimating Rheysa, he told himself. She's not six anymore. She's eleven.

But Rheysa was such a fragile, delicate thing and to imagine her in pain broke Maxx's heart. Rheysa was so gentle, so kind, and so sweet. She deserved better. She deserved a cousin who didn't beat her. A family who gave her proper food and didn't mistreat her brother. A safe house that wasn't falling apart.

Maxx imagined Rheysa's dream house: a large house where Maxx and Rheysa would have their own bedrooms with actual beds, not just piles of straw, a huge library brimming with books that Rheysa would bury her nose in and read for hours and hours on end, good, hot, healthy food that was a proper size and didn't taste terrible. Rheysa would love that.

Here's what he would do: he would sell something, he didn't know, but something, and get money and fly away to L'jien-ghe and build Rheysa her dream house where they would live.

And then he would remember where he was, who he was, and who he was with, and his frivolous fantasy would come to an end.

Blasted reality.

And this caught Maxx at a dilemma, much like many other times, where he was stuck on Artimenn, for now, at least.

And so he lay on his bed of straw in his unsafe house that was falling apart and picking at his terrible tasting, unhealthy, cold food and listened to his cousin pound down the stairs smacking a whip in his hand and asked himself, "What in the Gargantuan G did I do to deserve this?"

Of course there was no real answer, Maxx often asked himself this, sometimes fourteen times a day when his cousin had gotten particularly drunk.

He also knew that he wasn't to blame. It wasn't his fault he had the worst life EVER. Well....was it? Maybe it was.

Oh my orb, Maxx realized. What if this is because of me?

Of course, it couldn't have been him. How could it have been him? But every human at one point blame themselves for something, even though it couldn't have possibly been them. And if that has never happened to you, that is a lie.