The Joyride - Part 1

Saraya sat on the floor of her room, the back of her head a battering ram to the wall behind her.  The rhythmic pounding was light enough to keep the strikes from harming her, but for the purpose of driving away her depressing thoughts, it was failing.  Only with time did the sheer number of constant hits start getting under Saraya’s skin, convincing her slowly that she may have a headache should she not stop sometime soon.  But this threat didn’t press her cycle to break; she didn’t care about what further pain she could cause herself, for she was already aching.

With minutes passing, some outside force, drawn in by the incessant noise, stepped in to put this annoyance to an end.  The response came as the rap of knuckles on the door, Saraya’s banging having carried out from her room and into the hall to catch some passerby’s attention.  “Saraya?”  A voice came from the other side.  “What are you doing in there?”  The question made the girl pause.

“Nothing,” Saraya breathed, leaning her head back against the wall again with another light thump.  She looked up at the black ceiling above.  ‘Nothing’ was as pure an answer as she could give.  Without Alter, she didn’t feel like doing anything.  She hardly had the motivation to get up in the morning, let alone actually do something once she was awake.  Every day she was bereft of the urge to live.  She longed to go back to the circus, to go back to Replay.  She missed the lifestyle she’d had and the family she had left behind.  To put it bluntly, Saraya had no desire to move on and every desire to hold on to that which she had lost.

Her head dropped at the thought; she just wanted to go home.

The door opened with a calm push as Sunniva entered without a word.  Quickly she noticed that the room was void of light, and thus the Virtue shoved the door open until the knob came to rest against the wall behind it.  This allowed in much of the hallway’s light, and with it the woman could finally see.  From her place at the entrance Sunniva managed to make out the ex-acrobat in the shadows, sitting on the floor at the left side of the room, partially hidden at the foot of her bed.  As shrouded as the girl was, the woman nearly missed her.

Saraya didn’t look up at her matron’s entry; she didn’t care to have company at the moment.  She hadn’t cared for such things for days now; and although Sunniva knew this−despite not having been told directly−she walked over and knelt before Saraya nonetheless.

“Darling, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” the woman whispered softly, placing a hand on the younger’s propped-up knee.  Without having to say it, Saraya knew exactly what Sunniva was referring to.  It had been almost a week since Saraya had locked herself away from everyone outside of her room.  She rarely came out and barely ate.  The only time she really spoke was when Mathias had stopped by with her things, dropping off Aero along with them.

For a time Saraya had been able to put her mind on setting up her room, as well as Aero’s, but she soon withdrew as her son’s happy-go-lucky nature drove her back into solitude.  The boy was as naïve as always, and thus didn’t comprehend the depth of why they had left the circus so suddenly.  Continuously bringing up the circus had driven nails into Saraya’s skull, and inevitably she pulled away from her adopted son just to have some peace of mind.  Everyone else she ignored had simply been unintentional casualties.

“I don’t feel like coming out…” Saraya muttered, turning her head so that her longer bangs hid her face.  Sunniva sighed, not out of annoyance, but with pity, and tried her best to assure Saraya that, she at least, had every confidence that the ex-acrobat could pull through this slump.  Saraya only scoffed however; she was not so convinced.  “Why do you say that?”  She asked.

“Because no matter what challenges try to break you, no matter how far you fall, you always get back up,” the woman answered as she sunk back to sit, almost mirroring Saraya’s pose limb for limb.  She tossed her black hair over her shoulder and continued her questioning; wondering how many times Saraya had been asked about how she was able to do all that she did, and still somehow manage to come out okay.  Saraya had to think before answering this; she had been asked that question countless times, and told Sunniva exactly that.

“And how do you answer that question?”  Sunniva pressed further, clearly building up to a point.  Saraya stopped because of that, knowing that wherever this trail was going to lead, she would undoubtedly dislike where it took her.  Without Saraya’s response Sunniva reached forward to pull one out of her.  Gently she brushed back Saraya’s bangs, hooking them behind her ear.  “Can you tell me, Saraya?”  The Virtue coaxed, making the young woman sigh with hints of frustration.

“Because I’m Saraya Mizu,” she begrudgingly answered; that all too familiar phrase rolling off her tongue once more.  Sunniva nodded.

“And you always will be.  NOTHING can take away who you are, even if some part of you is missing.  And no matter who you become, I will always love you.”  Saraya cringed as the last words stung her ears.  Love…a wonderful lie that Saraya seemed to encounter time and time again.

“Always love me…” Saraya muttered so quietly that Sunniva could hardly hear her.  “I don’t believe you.”  The caretaker pulled back, these words  taking her by surprise.

“You don’t?”  She incredulously questioned.  “Why?”  Surely Saraya wasn’t serious, not with a topic like this, and surely not with her.  But the look in the girl’s eyes as she turned to the woman told a much different story.  There was pain in that gaze, and it penetrated deeply.

“Because I thought I was loved at the circus,” Saraya whispered with contempt, “and you see how that turned out.  I’m tired of being lied to, tired of being led to believe that people care when they don’t.  I don’t trust that sentiment anymore, I don’t want to.  For that much pain, it’s just not worth it…”  Saraya slumped back again, letting her eyes fall to the floor before her and slipping into a defeated silence.

Sunniva too went quiet for several moments as she sunk into her own thoughts.  She could not blame Saraya for her words, nor for her fear of feeling.  With what had just happened to her, it came as no shock that it would be some time yet before that wound would begin to heal.  However, letting Saraya live on without some kind of hope was not within the Virtue of Kindness; she could not let this continue when she was present with the ability to change it.

Crawling over the couple feet of space between she and the edge of the room, Sunniva sat at Saraya’s side.  Casually she leaned back against the wall, looking up at the darkness of the ceiling.  She sighed slightly, a warning that she was going to start the conversation anew, and then looked at the girl beside of her.

“Saraya,” she began, making sure that she had the ex-acrobat’s attention before going on.  All she was given however was a half glance, Saraya remaining silent otherwise.  Sunniva continued.  “Who has told you that they love you?”  The silence lingered as Saraya thought.  Eventually she answered just as Sunniva had expected:  that the only people who had expressed love for the girl were a boy named Zack, whom Saraya had mentioned to Sunniva once about being her boyfriend, her son Aero, and Sunniva herself.  Replay nor anyone else was mentioned in that list.

“And have Zack and Aero hurt you?”  Again Saraya kept silent.  “Have I hurt you?”  The ex-acrobat turned away.

“No…”  The answer was silent, and pained.

“And the ones that have hurt you, did they ever say that they loved you?”  Sunniva waited for a response again, fully expecting this one to take its time in coming.  She was well aware of how painful these unearthed thoughts would be.

A shaken breath accompanied Saraya’s answer; the reluctant reply of “no”.  These subtle hints of emotion were clue enough to prove that Saraya had come to the expected conclusion; as heartbreaking as it was for Saraya to hear.  Certainly Saraya didn’t want to admit that she was looking for affection where none was being offered, only to pretend that it was there just the same.  The Virtue remained silent as Saraya rolled her thoughts through her head; thinking on how to respond.  It took a long while before the ex-acrobat finally had an answer.

A sigh was followed by a forced gesture of annoyance as Saraya brushed her bangs back out from behind her ear.  “I know…what you’re saying…” she said slowly.  “It’s just…It’s just hard to accept right now…”  Sunniva nodded and laid her hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“I understand, Saraya.  But know that it doesn’t change what I’ve said.  That no matter who you become, I will always love you.”  These words only caused Saraya’s shoulders to droop, Sunniva’s hand almost slipping off her arm, and in silence the ex-acrobat leaned against the Virtue for solace.  She wanted to believe the woman, truly she did, as she knew that Sunniva wouldn’t lie to her.  But her freshly injured trust would not allow for it; not fully anyway.

It wasn’t that she doubted the sincerity of the woman’s words.  No, it was a single phrase that drove her fear.  “No matter who you become” is what she had said, and this is what brought on the majority of Saraya’s doubt.  Surely Sunniva would not say such a thing if she was aware of Saraya’s roots; if she knew why the then 14-year-old left home in the first place, about just who her first murder victim actually was, or how it wasn’t Replay who had instructed Saraya to deal out death; she did it because she wanted to…because she thought it was fun.

Saraya had no intention of ever telling Sunniva these things if she could manage it.  She couldn’t afford to lose anyone else right now.

A deep, calming breath eased a small portion of Saraya’s sudden tension, and she muttered that she would at least try to believe that Sunniva was telling an absolute truth.  She hoped that this response would find enough favor with the woman to make her leave her alone.  Despite only knowing Sunniva for a few months, Saraya knew all too well that the woman would not stop trying to help until something was accomplished; even if it was something small.  Surely Saraya could at least convince the woman that she’d succeeded in that.

By Elisica’s grace Saraya’s all but empty answer passed her matron’s test; this simple acknowledgement of attempting to move on being all that Sunniva had wanted to hear.  Saraya wished she had known this sooner; she could have avoided the painful realization that those she cared for never directly returned the gesture, nor likely ever would.

A much needed, warm embrace from “mother” helped to soften the blow of that same “mother’s” words, but returning Sunniva’s gesture wasn’t within Saraya’s limits.  The ex-acrobat needed all of her strength to keep from breaking down again; there wasn’t enough left to hug someone back.

“Are you okay to come downstairs?”  Sunniva inquired with a soft whisper, brushing down those few strands of hair that were still stuck behind Saraya’s ear, caught on her earrings.

“I guess,” Saraya muttered quietly in reply.  She still had no desire to leave her room; Sunniva could pick this up from the girl’s tone.  But the woman smiled anyway and, after releasing Saraya, put her hand against the wall.  With the leverage gained she pushed herself up onto her feet and offered her hand down to the ex-acrobat.

“C’mon on, darling,” the woman coaxed, waiting patiently for Saraya to move.  Saraya, of course, didn’t for a while.  She didn’t want to go downstairs, and was aggravated by the fact that Sunniva was making her do so.  Why couldn’t Sunniva just stay up here with her where it was quiet and lonesome?  She didn’t need to be around people like Sunniva seemed to think; she just needed one person to lean on. She only wanted one person to care, and unfortunately the one she wanted most had abandoned her, while the other didn’t know her new address yet, so couldn’t come to offer his greatly-desired embrace.

Half-heartedly Saraya took Sunniva’s hand, letting the woman pull her lightweight frame from the floor to her feet.  Once standing, the woman’s hand only slipped all the more firmly around Saraya’s, pulling her to the door and then leading her downstairs by the arm.  If Saraya had been in a more cheerful mood she would have smiled, finding it funny that Sunniva had already deduced that the ex-acrobat had no intention of moving on her own.  The Virtue had known instinctively that if she wanted Saraya down amongst the masses, she would have to coax her there by force.

All but dragging the girl downstairs didn’t prove to be too much of a hassle for the caretaker though, Saraya following Sunniva’s lead without much coercing involved.  After trekking down two flights of stairs, around a couple of loose children and to the first floor, Saraya expected their journey from here to turn right, into the living room where several children ran by shooting at each other with toy guns and foam bullets.  But instead their path diverged left and into the kitchen, Saraya concluding that getting some sustenance into her body would be their first order of business.

She soon realized that such was not the case however, as a figure larger than any of the orphanage children, a man she realized, sat waiting at the kitchen bar.  His back mostly to them, he was too busy sipping at a soda currently held to his lips to notice the two women walk in.  At first the only thing Saraya knew was that she had never seen this newcomer at the orphanage before.  In fact, she had never seen an older male here at all period, and for a moment, this sparked her interest.

But this fleeting curiosity gave way to the crawling of skin when Saraya finally recognized who it was that had come calling to her current home-front.  With back and neck stiff with sudden tension, a brooding rage seeped into her chest.  She narrowed her gaze into a glare, and before the vested boy with his well-groomed mustache could say anything, Saraya jerked her hand free of Sunniva’s grasp and began off in the opposite direction.

“Nope,” she announced as she retreated.  “I’m not doing this.  I’m out.”  Immediately Sunniva turned on her heels and made to go after her.

“Saraya!”  She called, trying to get the ex-acrobat to return.  The sudden ruckus drew Roberto’s attention−the one sitting at the bar−and he nearly choked on his drink in surprise.  He swallowed hard, his throat burning, and then turned to see Saraya in her headstrong retreat with Sunniva trailing after.

“Hey, Saraya!”  He called after them as he stood up from his seat.  “What’s the hurry?  You just got here.”  His voice drew Saraya into stopping, abruptly enough that Sunniva nearly bumped into her back because of it.  Saraya was practically fuming already, having not even spoken to Roberto yet; this was just the affect he had on her.  Quickly she spun around and locked her hate-filled gaze over Sunniva’s shoulder and on the swordsman-thief, a growl set on her lips.

“I’m in no mood to deal with you and your smart alec mouth,” she snapped, jabbing her finger in his direction.  Roberto frowned.

“I didn’t even say anything yet!”  Came his retort, but Saraya wouldn’t hear it.

“You don’t have to!  Your very existence makes me want to hurt you!”  Roberto snorted, blowing off Saraya’s comment completely.

With subtle threats disregarded, Roberto reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling a somewhat crumpled note from his left hip.  “Well then you’re going to love this,” he grumbled, already annoyed by Saraya’s toxic attitude.  Tossing the note on top of the bar it slid a few inches across the counter’s ceramic surface before coming to rest.  “You and I are on a mission together…again.”

“WHAT?!?!?”  Saraya exclaimed, a look not quite unlike that of horror crossing over face before being replaced with rage.  “Absolutely not!!  I refuse!”

“That’s what I said you’d say, but Haiku said that if you’re going to be in Team PHANTOM, then you don’t have a choice.”  He sat down on a barstool and snatched his can of soda back to his hand.  “Blame him, not me.”

“I’ll blame you if I want to,” Saraya growl, her words rolling across her tongue in a threat.  This procured a skeptical look from Roberto, which Saraya promptly ignored.  She strode over to the bar with hastened steps and took up Haiku’s message, prying it open and flattening out each crinkle with her fingers while she read.  One thing was already for certain:  Haiku’s handwriting was at least ten times better than what Replay’s ever was.

“A threat on Metro City?”  She read, looking up at Roberto afterwards.  “By who?”

“We don’t know,” he informed.  “But it’s something big, and it’s going down today.”  A painful shock shot down Saraya’s spine at the news.

“Say what?  Today?!  You couldn’t tell me a bit sooner?!”

“I tried but−!”

“That was my fault,” Sunniva said, cutting in.  She put her hand on Saraya’s shoulder, physically pulling Roberto out of the line of fire by directing the ex-acrobat’s gaze at her.  “I turned him away twice before since you didn’t seem up for company, let alone a ‘mission’.”  Saraya paused; and here she had begun to think that the only reason Sunniva wanted her to come out of her room at all was to see Roberto.  Perhaps this wasn’t the complete case.

The ex-acrobat sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Why am I being paired with you again?”

“Because you’re one of the only ones who actually knows your way around Metro City,” Roberto explained.  “And I’m one of the only ones with a vehicle.”

“Why didn’t they send Sayli then?  She’s easier to get along with than you.”

“Because Sayli’s never really talked to you, and you’re not the easiest person to get along with, you know.”  Saraya scoffed; that wasn’t true…not completely.

Defeated, she gripped the paper’s crease between her nails and slid them down its edge, listening to the tearing of paper fiber as she folded the note again.  “Well, since I don’t have a choice,” she grumbled, “I guess I’m going.”  Roberto pushed his empty soda can aside and stood up.

“Are you ready now then?”  He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.  “We should go as soon as possible.”  Saraya glanced down, looking herself over.  Everything seemed to be in order as far as she could tell.

“I’m pretty sure I’m ready,” she said.  “I have my knives, gear, jacket…”

“Yeah, I noticed you looked different,” Roberto noted.  “Although that might just be the whole plain hair and no tattoos thing.”  Such a blunt observation made Saraya frown.  She had tried changing her style of clothing in an attempt to get on with her life; adorning a ripped sleeveless hoodie rather than her tailed circus jacket, and denim shorts adding a street look to her overall acrobatic appearance.  But being reminded that her hair had faded back to its natural ice blue and that her tattoos had been forcibly removed from her face wasn’t helping her get over her past trauma.

“Thanks for reminding me,” Saraya growled under her breath, turning away sharply as she did so.  Without another word she walked toward the door and slammed it shut as she walked out.  Perhaps she should have at least said good-bye to Sunniva, and Aero too, but she wasn’t in the mood for it, and walking back in now would only succeed in making her look foolish.

Now alone on the porch she sighed and brushed her fingers through her bangs.  “Stupid Roberto…” she muttered, looking up at the hazy blue sky.  Descending down the wooden stairs to put more distance between her and her “partner”, she stepped onto the sidewalk and progressed forward to the orphanage’s front gate.  Roberto had probably parked his bike there, and she was undoubtedly doomed to have to ride on it with him.

She shivered at the thought of having to hold onto the boy’s back or risk falling off the vehicle.  Unless she was punching or stabbing him, she preferred having no physical contact with Roberto of any sort.

The sudden call of her name made Saraya look up from the concrete path and to the gate ahead.  Her eyebrow arched upon seeing yet another male standing before her, waiting by the entrance.  This man she recognized quicker than the first; it helped that she actually liked this one.  She was momentarily thrown off by the scruff growing off the man’s jaw and upper lip however, having never seen the young man with even a hint of a beard before.  But perhaps he was simply trying something new now that he was away from the circus’ standards.

“What are you doing here, Mathias?”  The girl asked as she approached, the sun catching the shimmering blue and gold vest over the man’s shoulders as she did so.  Saraya couldn’t help but stop and stare at the fabric.  It reminded her of a tunic her father had given her; magic woven into the threads so that it glistened like the sea…

“That’s what I get?”  Mathias said, bringing Saraya’s mind back to him.  “No pounce?  Not even a friendly hello?”  He flinched away and held a hand on his chest as though injured.  “I’m hurt…”  Saraya scoffed, blowing her bangs briefly from her eyes.

“You picked that guilt-trip act up from me, so don’t even try it.”  The fisherman chuckled and his farce fell away.  He scratched slightly at his scruff of a beard and then stuck his hands in his pants pockets, leaning casually against the gate.  “So seriously,” Saraya continued, folding her arms over her chest, “why are you here?”

“I asked if Roberto wouldn’t mind me tagging along,” Mathias informed.  “And besides, I am not the only PHANTOM member here; many of us are stationed throughout the city to watch this event unfold.  This is partially what I’m here to do.”  Saraya raised her eyebrow; there had been no mention of such manpower by Roberto nor the mission memo she had read.

“Really?  Why?”  She asked.

“Because it is not just PHANTOM who has agents here.  The Allegiance, MOD, LoS, everyone’s being brought out for this one.  Whoever is hatching this plan isn’t being discrete about it.  The Allegiance and PHANTOM are the only ones getting directly involved though.  Everyone else is just here to watch.”  Saraya huffed and shifted her weight to her right leg.

“Well that’s not surprising; the MOD doesn’t like to show their hand to the public, and the LoS is the ‘lurk in the shadows’ type, hence the name.  Plus their entire team is a mess since the conference, so what good will they do anyway?  Though that begs to question why Team PHANTOM isn’t letting the Allegiance handle this since they’re showing interest.”

Mathias pushed himself up from the gate; with the conversation taking a more solemn turn, it wasn’t surprising that he wanted to stand properly for it.  “Because the Allegiance isn’t taking it seriously,” he stated.  “They’ve got cops at their posts and soldiers stationed around, but Seth and all his higher-ups aren’t showing their faces.”  There was annoyance in his tone.  Just how serious was the issue that Saraya was being thrown into?  

“Then why are we taking it seriously if even the Allegiance doesn’t care?”  She paused.  “Never mind, that’s exactly why Team PHANTOM would get involved.”  Mathias nodded.

“To sum it up, yes.  And that’s also why I requested to come along.”

“But why?  Isn’t this mission assigned to me and Roberto?”

“Yes, but I wanted to give you something before you go.  It’s why I came with Rob rather than going to my station.  Just think of it as…a lifeline.”  Saraya furrowed her brow; a red flag had just gone up in her head.  What did Mathias mean by “a lifeline”?  

“What are you getting at, Mathias?”  She asked.  Without responding Mathias began walking to the right side of the yard, gesturing for Saraya to follow after him.  Already Saraya didn’t like where things were going, despite it being Mathias who was on the other end of this…offer.  Normally she wouldn’t have had a second thought about trailing after someone she’d once called brother, but the ex-acrobat knew that she hadn’t been the only one whose demeanor had changed since they had left the circus.  Mathias had an odd air around him now, one that she wasn’t used to yet, one that made him seem more…distant.

When Mathias finally stopped, Saraya found herself led to the corner of the yard.  Apparently whatever it was that Mathias wanted to give her, he didn’t want any passerby on the street taking notice.  “Alright,” he began as he turned to her and held his hands out in front of him, “I want to show you these spells since you don’t have your own anymore.  I think they’ll help−”  Saraya quickly cut him off, anger suddenly surging through her.

“I DON’T want your magic, Mathias,” she growled in offense.  Mathias paused, surprised by Saraya’s outburst, but after taking a moment to collect his thoughts he pressed on in spite of it.

“But I think they’ll help you with this mission,” he explained, doing his best to convey his genuine concern.  “Without it, you might not be able to−”  Saraya stepped up closer to him, making him go quiet with her advance.

“Might not be able to what?”  She hissed.  “Do my job?  Complete the mission?  Do what everyone expects me to do?”  Mathias swallowed.

“Something like that…”  Saraya felt her teeth grind together as her jaw locked in rage.

“Just because I’m not a circus member anymore doesn’t mean that I’ve suddenly lost the ability to function!  I’ve been trained for this stuff nearly all my life.  What gives you the right to just assume that I−”

“I’m not assuming anything, Saraya!”  Mathias snapped.  “Look at how you’ve been acting for the past week and tell me what I’m supposed to think!”  Saraya flinched back into silence, this truth thrown into her face.  Saying nothing in defense, she turned her gaze sharply away from the magic user and Mathias sighed.

“Look,” he started again, calmer this time, “I’m not trying to be offensive, I’m just worried about you.  Really, I am.  Losing the circus hit you the hardest out of all of us, but for some reason you think I don’t see that.”  He paused, waiting to see if Saraya would respond.  She didn’t, and so he continued.

“I may have only known you for a of couple years, but that is enough for me to know when something’s not right with you; when it extends below face level at least.  You’re obviously suffering more than you’re willing to let on, and you’re definitely not yourself.  That’s why I’m worried.  I don’t want you going into this mission and not coming back, Saraya.  Normally I wouldn’t worry about it too much, but going into the things you do with the way you are now…I can’t see it turning out well, even if it is the anomaly that is you that’s doing it.  I just want to do something to help keep my family safe.”

Saraya squeezed her arms.  To keep his family safe…she couldn’t possibly stay angry at him for that sentiment.  But to treat her like she couldn’t do anything because of this set back of the circus, this she could not stand.

Exasperated under the pressure, the ex-acrobat sighed.  “I understand that, Mathias,” she began, still refusing to look at him, “but that’s still no reason to suddenly treat me like I’m useless.  And I especially don’t need to rely on a magic that I never needed in the first place.”

Mathias exhaled heavily, running his fingers back through his hair.  “That’s not what I meant…If it came across that way, I’m sorry.”

“You should be.  Don’t talk like your sudden resurgence of magic makes you so much better than me.”  Saraya shot him a glare.  “You’re not Navitas nobility anymore, Mathias Donovan.”  Mathias stepped back.

“How did you…?” He shook his head.  “No, you were always going through Replay’s things…I shouldn’t be surprised that you know.”

“No, you shouldn’t.  Getting into other people’s business is what I do.”  A heavy silence fell between the two; never before had either snapped at the other like this.  It was true that Mathias was waving a sense of superiority above Saraya, but it was also true that Saraya’s being up in arms wasn’t helping things blow over.

“Listen, Mathias,” Saraya began, her voice forced to be softer than what it was before.  “I’m…sorry.  You’re right, I haven’t been myself.  I didn’t mean to get so…”

“I understand, Saraya,” Mathias cut it.  “And you’re not wrong; ever since my memories and magic were returned I have felt myself giving into the arrogant air of nobility, and perhaps I have been a bit overprotective given the abilities I now possess.  I didn’t mean to press my techniques on you.  If you don’t want to use it, I won’t make you.”

“No, I…”  Again Saraya sighed; why couldn’t she get her words out correctly?  “I’ll use it.  You’re probably right after all; it might come in handy with my head the way it is right now.”  She forced a smile.  “Not like I can rely on Roberto to do anything, right?”

“Not with magic anyway,” Mathias confirmed.  “That’s why I’m giving the technique to you.  Only another magic user can use it.”

“Even if I have no magical ability anymore?”

“Yes, because you at least know how to use the power when you have it.”  Mathias lifted a finger to Saraya’s shoulder and on its side drew a circle along her skin.  This shape he decorated with several other strokes, creating runic symbols that she could not discern through touch alone.  Each line created a tingling sensation in her arm, as though small amounts of electricity were playing with her nerves.  Inevitably, it made the area marked go numb.

“There,” Mathias said as he pulled his hand away.  “I’ve given you a portion of my power to use.  It’s limited and will eventually fade.  To be honest, I don’t know how well you’ll be able to use it since your magic ability is different than mine, but it is surely better than nothing.”  Saraya glanced at the new tattoo; dark golden marks etched out upon her flesh.  Reading what she could of the symbols writ, she lowered her arm; nothing seeming dangerous about them.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she told Mathias.  “But I’m not going to promise−”  The sudden sound of the orphanage’s front door caused both Saraya and Mathias to look back at the building, Roberto having finally emerged from inside.  “Looks like he finally realized I left,” Saraya huffed before turning back to Mathias.  “Guess I’m heading off.”

“And I’ll be walking to my post,” Mathias answered.  “I wish luck to you both.”  Saraya replied with a nod and a thanks before catching up with her mission partner.  Roberto had been ignoring her up to this point, focusing on getting back to his motorcycle rather than dwelling on who he was stuck working with.  He was looking forward to working with Saraya as much as she was looking forward to working with him.

Swinging his leg over his bike and sitting down, Roberto looked up as Saraya sauntered over.  “I don’t have helmets,” he informed her, trying to be friendly.

“I don’t care,” Saraya stated bluntly, apparently still sore at having to work with someone she truly despised.  “I wouldn’t want one anyway.”  Over her head she pulled up her coat’s hood, pushing her ponytail into the hoodie to fall down her back.  Roberto rolled his eyes; so much for Saraya being even slightly agreeable for once.

Turning the key the ignition roared to life, Roberto revving the engine as smog from the motor spewed from the exhaust pipe.  Roberto smirked at the sound of it; he would never understand the obsession with electronic vehicles.  He knew that they were better for the environment and cost a lot less to fuel, but it tickled his soul to hear the engine of his bike come to life.

“Are you finished doting over your ride?”  Saraya mocked as she slipped onto the seat behind Rob.  The statement pulled a scoff from the boy.

“What, can you read minds now?”  He looked back over his shoulder, seeing Saraya brush her bangs back.

“No, but I think you were about to start drooling.”  Frowning, Roberto quickly gave the bike some gas, making it lurch forward suddenly.  Saraya reeled back for a moment before clinging to Roberto’s vest to keep from falling into the street.  After recovering, she released her hold on Rob and then jabbed her fist into his ribs.  The swordsman-thief muffled a yelp and flinched away, his bones cringing from the strike.  Saraya always seemed to know just where to hit to cause the perfect amount of pain.  He would squelch it though, for the sake of giving her as little satisfaction as possible.

“Watch it,” the ex-acrobat growled.  “I’m in no mood to put up with you, remember?”  Again Roberto revved the engine.

“Whatever.  Just don’t hit me while I’m driving.”

“Don’t make me want to,” Saraya snapped.  Roberto rolled his eyes, pulling out onto the street as a car drove past.

“Me breathing makes you want to do that,” he stated.  Saraya smirked.

“Then stop breathing.”  Roberto glanced quickly over his shoulder, long enough to glimpse his passenger before looking back to the road.  He made to retort but quit before doing so; it was pointless arguing with Saraya like this, not when she refused to use logic and reason.  It was better to just stop the fighting now before things got into the realm of ridiculous.

Thankfully the quarreling between the two was kept at a minimum while Saraya directed Roberto toward the east side of the Metro City.  Not that Roberto couldn’t eventually find the route himself; but with Saraya’s mouth occupied with giving directions, she wouldn’t be shooting smart-alec quips at him.  He was grateful for her guidance in part, for he hadn’t known until now just how large Metro City actually was.  Sure he had been to a few parts of the city during missions, but he had never bothered staying within city limits unless he had to.  At most he would just linger on the outskirts, away from the pushy people and angry drivers.

Driving through the congested city streets turned out to be more than just a simple eye-opener to the swordsman, as he finally got an up-close and personal look at the size of this booming metropolis.  He had underestimated the time it would take to get to the edge of town.  Had he known that this city was split into multiple sub-sections, he would have left at least an hour sooner.

Given the time of day, many vehicles were on the streets headed for home.  Saraya chastised the boy for leaving during the afternoon rush, but Roberto just blamed Saraya for not coming out of her room to begin with.  This almost started another fight, but was averted as Roberto quickly backed down, knowing that Saraya would strike him if angry enough−whether they were driving or not−and would even be willing to do so with a blade in hand.

Keeping his tongue bitten, Roberto stopped at the next intersection and waited for Saraya’s gesture of which way to turn.  She told him to head toward the park so that they could escape a lot of the rush-hour traffic, and it wasn’t until then that he openly mentioned his lack of knowledge when it came to the country’s capital.  Leaning back as Roberto made an easy, wide turn to the left, Saraya claimed that the only reason she knew so much was because of coming here all the time to visit “friends”−friends that Roberto knew to be, in majority, killers and criminals.  He then asked if she could tell him more about the city, failing to say that he only wanted to know so that it too would keep the ex-acrobat’s mind further occupied.

Shielded from Roberto’s true intention for such knowledge, Saraya took it upon herself to explain−in the most condescending voice she could muster−just how big the country’s capital actually was.  Apparently there were five distinct sections of the city:  one for each major point on the compass as well as one in the center.  Roberto was only familiar with the West district; West being the more crime oriented part of town where more than a couple of his missions had wound up placing him.  His buddy also had a automotive shop set up on that side of town, though it was nearer the central part of the city.  He hadn’t stopped by for a tune up on his bike in some time; maybe that was something he could look into once this mission was over.

Divulging further, Saraya informed Roberto that East Side, where they were headed, was a middle class, recreational district.  According to her, here was where the big arcades, music bars, sports centers, stadiums and the like were primarily housed.  Apparently though, despite all the money these places pulled in, the area was only considered middle class because none of the rich types wanted to deal with the congestion and noise.  Instead, these fat cats moved up to North District where the orphanage was, and where Saraya had begun living.

A quick remark of how Saraya could have only managed to wind up in North District by becoming a maid landed Roberto a hard punch in the spine, the girl’s knuckles hitting right between his vertebrae and making him slam on his breaks at an upcoming red light rather than coast to a stop.  The car behind them bumped its horn at the sudden break-check, and Roberto grumbled something angrily under his breath as he closed the gap between him and the truck ahead.

Saraya just fumed quietly as they waited for the light to change, her arms folded across her chest as they sat stuck in traffic.  To kill the awkward silence Roberto pressed for Saraya to continue on telling him about the city; saying that it could be useful to know in the future.  Saraya refused for a time, but after Roberto promised not to make any other unnecessary statements, she was cajoled into continuing.

As they began driving past the park, a dash of green amidst the grey, Roberto’s gaze was pulled aside by the shouts of children playing beyond those cars parked alongside the curb.  While checking with his eyes that he was still on the road, he watched as many kids of several ages ran about playing tag or jumping from one piece of playground equipment to the other.  Parents were sitting on benches nearby, keeping a watchful eye on their little ones.  A few of the adults appeared to have just gotten off of work as they were still dressed in business suits and other formal clothes; probably having picked up their kids from daycares as they left their jobs for the day.

Continuing to check with multiple glances, Roberto concluded that this park was truly massive, for he could not see the other side from the road, nor its center even after looking at it for so long.  Saraya was right when she said that this was the rich side of the city; the park alone was a testament to that.  Other than the fancy jungle gyms, slides and swings, there were paved paths that lead to ornate fountains of stone, each spewing water from several of their abstract, decorative orifices.  Around these structures were planted rows upon rows of flowers in hues that stretched throughout the entire color spectrum, all weaved into intricate patterns along the grass.  Ornamental trees guarded the rock walkways as sentries, shading those that passed beneath and creating the perfect place for those deemed “it” in hide-and-seek to lean against while counting.

When two hands wrapped around his head and forced Roberto to look back at the road, he was jarred slightly at the suddenty of it.  Saraya knocked him on the back of the skull and then chided him for not keeping his eyes on where he was driving; saying she had no interest in dying in a motorcycle wreck.  After ignoring Roberto’s excuses for looking away, she continued on with her base intel of the city; telling her chauffeur that Central was the heavy business section of the city while South was a nice, quiet, middle class region.

“What about the Underground?”  Roberto asked as they pulled up to yet another red light, waiting to head into slightly heavier traffic.

“What do you care about the Underground?”  Saraya replied.  “You’d never join in unless forced to…again, and you’d never travel down there on your own anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”  Roberto rolled his eyes and knocked his turn signal up, turning right as the light flashed to a green arrow.

Pulling up alongside a taxi, Roberto waited for it to pass as Saraya told him to get into the leftmost lane.  He continued to obey her instructions as each one came since they were now entering the eastern district.  Both immediately noticed upon passing through the eastern boarder that much of the traffic had dwindled down to very few, as rather than driving with vehicles only a few feet away on all sides, now it was a stretch to see a fellow car twenty feet ahead.

Rather than the normal city congestion, police cars and motorbikes were sitting around in greater number, some collected together in multiple places but all appearing to not be doing much of anything.  The reason for this was something both Saraya and Roberto could agree on:  that they had likely evacuated a good portion of this side of the city, and now they were guarding it just in case this threat actually turned into something serious.  But then Saraya brought up that it could have simply been that the influx of cops scared people off; and as they passed by another street, two cops sitting halfway down the road chatting with each other as they leaned against the hoods of their vehicles, Roberto considered that this too could be right.

After another couple of blocks Saraya leaned to the side to better see around Roberto.  The boy adjusted to this easily enough−the girl’s leaning interfering slightly with his driving−and he followed her gesture with his eyes as she pointed ahead.  She directed him to take a right; saying that they needed to get on a different street, and quickly.  The reason for their change in course was clear enough to see as an army jeep with soldiers stationed beside was blocking their way up ahead.  Roberto skipped using his turn signal this time and took his bike right as Saraya had instructed, coming to a stop at the end of the next block.

“Where to now?”  Roberto asked, knowing that getting past the lookouts was the reason Saraya had been charged with coming along in the first place.

“Good question,” Saraya replied, her tone hinging on annoyance.  “Unless your bike can go off road, I’m not exactly sure WHERE we can go; and even then I’m not sure how we’re going to get past post after post of Allegiance soldiers.”  Roberto looked down at his bike; its chrome sheen shining while the black paint reflected his face and the surrounding buildings back at him, the images slightly skewed from the curve of the metal.

“It can do a little off-roading,” Roberto informed, the desire to keep his bike intact at the forefront of his mind, “but I’d like to not tear my bike up on rocks and sticks, please.”  Saraya grumbled under her breath, having worried that this was the case as she knew that Roberto’s bike was one of his most precious possessions.  This was just another reason why Saraya had wanted Sayli’s help instead; she would have had some stealthy, off-road vehicle for sure.

With agitation level climbing, Saraya brushed her fingers through her bangs before jumping off the motorcycle and onto the sidewalk.  “Then wait here,” she ordered, waving her hand back to keep Roberto from following.  “I’ll think of something.”  Roberto knew that she was angry at him−well, angrier−but he wasn’t letting Saraya wreck his only means of both transportation and freedom.  So as the ex-acrobat weaved her way in between the buildings, Roberto rolled his bike over into the nearest parking space and kicked down his bike’s kickstand.  He turned off the engine, leaning back on his seat.  There was no telling how long Saraya would be, and he wasn’t about to waste gas waiting for her.

At fist Roberto repeatedly checked his cell phone for the time as it ticked by, keeping a lookout just in case he needed to be ready to immediately head out.  But laziness crept in as the minutes passed, and by the time Saraya came back, she found the swordsman lounging out along his bike; his seat cushion turned into a temporary bed.  The ex-acrobat forcibly put her foot to the back wheel as she approached, making the entire bike shift and startle Roberto awake.

“Have a nice nap?”  Saraya sneered, almost laughing at how the boy shot up to attention.  Roberto went to say something back but recoiled and lowered his head instead, rubbing at it with the palm of his hand.  A head-rush was not what Roberto had wanted to awaken to.

“You couldn’t just say “hey, wake up” like a normal person?”  Roberto grumbled as he pushed the last of his dizziness away.  Saraya smirked.

“But that would insinuate that I’m a normal person.”  Roberto snorted his response with a huff and then pulled out his phone, glancing at the time again.

“It took you thirty minutes to come back,” he stated, tucking the device away.  “We’re late.”

“Don’t blame me,” Saraya snapped as she bashed her foot against the back tire again, sending another tremor through the motorbike.  “We wouldn’t have been late at all if you had given ANY thought to actually being stealthy.”  Roberto frowned, glancing down at Saraya’s foot before looking her in the face.  He wanted to yell at her for attacking their ride, but he knew doing so would only make her kick it harder.

“I told you, that’s not MY job,” he stated.  “Figuring out how to get in is YOUR job.”

“Yeah, and it took me half an hour to figure it out, no thanks to you and your loud, obnoxious bike.”  The ex-acrobat finally pushed off the motorcycle and stood in the street, placing her hands firmly on her hips.  “I now know exactly what course to take without getting caught.  I saw them turning people away farther in, so we have to make sure to get past them above all else.  Afterwards it should be relatively smooth sailing.”

“Then hop on,” Roberto grumbled, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.  “We need to get there NOW.”  Shockingly, Saraya obeyed without fuss, and Roberto pulled on the handles to level the bike out.  As he bumped the kickstand up with his foot he grabbed the key and turned it.  The rumbling of the engine vibrated the bike beneath his legs, but to his concern, the motorcycle didn’t make a sound.  He grabbed the key and turned it again; the bike rumbling once more but still there was no sound.

“You’re going to break your bike if you keep doing that,” Saraya warned, making Roberto turn on his seat to look at her.

“But the engine’s not−”  He cut off mid-sentence when a glow caught his eye, and he leaned over slightly to examine it further.  Rather than holding on to either him or the back of the motorbike, Saraya’s hands were now securely fastened to the motorcycle’s sides, an intricate pattern weaved beneath them.  Strands of dark purple, almost black, had etched themselves along the vehicle’s paneling like veins, sinking in below the steel and disappearing.

“What did you do to my bike?!”  Roberto growled as he gripped the bike’s handlebars all the tighter.  Roberto wasn’t a fan of Saraya’s magic, for he’d only known it to be destructive.  He still had the scars from fire and lightning to prove it.

“Cool it or I’ll do the same thing to you,” Saraya threatened with a frown.  “It’s just a muffling spell.  How else did you think we were going to “quietly” slip by?”  Roberto muttered something under his breath that he was sure Saraya didn’t want to hear before shifting into gear.

“If you’re going to sit like that the entire time, you’d better hold on tight,” he warned, knowing that, hunched as she was, Saraya was not going to enjoy this trip.  But the ex-acrobat only scoffed.

“Just don’t take turns too fast and I should be good.”  She leaned her forehead into Roberto’s back; an awkward gesture to be sure, but it was all she could do to try and keep herself as comfortable as possible.  Roberto just ignored it, hoping that having Saraya’s skull in his spine wouldn’t hurt him too badly.  He then took off into the street as his partner called for him to take a left.

For several miles worth of road the two PHANTOM agents wound their way through city streets and alleyways, avoiding patrols of both cops and Allegiance soldiers wherever they had to.  With Roberto’s motorcycle forced into silence, no one heard them approaching, and with both Roberto’s careful maneuvering and Saraya’s experienced input, they made it out of the city in record time.

Now that they were safely away from the threat of being apprehended, Saraya released her hold on her spell and the sound of the motorcycle’s engine rang heavenly in Roberto’s ears.  With a groan the ex-acrobat partially collapsed on Roberto’s back, making the boy swerve slightly from the sudden push forward.

“You okay?”  He asked as he looked in the mirrors coming up off his handlebars.

“Would be better if I didn’t have to waste magic on something stupid like keeping your motorcycle quiet,” Saraya spat back, using one hand to push herself away from Roberto and the other to massage her chest just below her collarbone.  She cringed in pain and almost fell forward again, but her refusal to lean against Roberto prevented it.  The swordsman-thief wasn’t blind enough to not notice her discomfort however, and he also made note that the mark on her shoulder had slightly dimmed.

“We don’t have much farther to go,” Roberto told her, ignoring how snippy Saraya had been.  “Only about twenty more miles.”

“Good, then I can get off this stupid thing…”  Both Saraya and Roberto looked over as the sound of a helicopter caught their attention.  It was taking off, rising into the air as they were rising up to the higher section of freeway.

“Something doesn’t feel right…” Saraya muttered, Roberto just barely managing to catch her words over the sound of the engine mixed with the whirr of the nearby helicopter blades.  She looked ahead as the aircraft flew past and grabbed onto Roberto’s vest, clutching his back.  “Can this thing go any faster?”  Roberto grinned.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”  Revving the engine the bike picked up speed.  With the cops too busy with other things Roberto knew that no one would be watching for him, and he’d been dying to really test his engine for ages.  He felt Saraya actually grab onto him this time, no doubt immediately regretting her decision to tell him to speed, but he didn’t care; he knew that if she didn’t want to fall off, Saraya would have to hold onto him, and tightly.

With the needle reaching a 100 mph and climbing higher, Roberto knew that he was being more than just reckless.  Had his driving skills been any less than what he knew them to be, he’d have called this suicidal. But if Saraya was right and something was amiss, then they needed to get to their mission point as quickly as possible.  They were already late, and now he had to make up time the only way he know how; hoping that their tardiness didn’t just permanently screw them over.