Chương 83: Ch 45b – Trust

As she's come to expect from the healing energy of the shard, she wakes refreshed, her memories locked neatly away, her fear restrained, and her outlook hopeful. She had been asleep on Draig's chest when Wyndeer and Crathsun had arrived at the shed. Wyndeer had handed her a shard and told her to heal herself. No questions. No hesitations. Thinking back now, she assumes Draig and Wyndeer must have discussed it via a private connection because she can recall little interaction between them in the shed.

As soon as the golden energy had faded, she'd passed out, with no recollection of how she got back to the main building nor into bed. There is some light bruising on her shoulder and a padded purple bandage towards the base of her neck. Her ankle is heavily strapped, but she finds it flexes easily, with no signs of swelling or discomfort. She removes the strapping before putting on her boot.

Despite feeling desperately hungry she decides it would be best to seek out Wyndeer and face the consequences of yet another of her failures to follow rules. Her anxiety at what his reaction will be is quickly undoing the optimism the shard has instilled. It is best to face him while she at least has the strength to weather his wrath. When she finds the rec room empty, she peeks into the hall. Crathsun and Magse are training in the gym area, Erro is sweeping the floor.

Despite the wind dropping it is still raining lightly outside. She hopes it is the last of the storm and that they won't have to endure another day cooped up inside. Not wanting to get side tracked she continues to Wyndeer's office, disappointed not to find Draig and engage him as her support. If she is honest with herself, disappointed not to see Draig full stop. She hesitates at the door to Wyndeer's office, unsure about the convention of knocking and entering, or knocking and waiting, or indeed knocking at all.

She tries to think back to how Crathsun had interrupted Wyndeer the last time she had been marched to his office, but she can't recall if the door had been open or closed. After dithering for a few moments, she decides just to knock and open the door. In her hesitancy she fumbles the unfamiliar latch which results in a noisy opening and her swinging the door too wide having overestimated how heavy it is. Wyndeer stands behind his makeshift desk, arms crossed and glaring disapprovingly at the doorway.

His frown melts into a raised eyebrow as she enters.

"If it's a bad time I can come back later?" she suggests, half-hoping he will dismiss her.

"Cara," he says in greeting, motioning to one of the chairs. Glancing at the plain wall on his right he scratches a nail on his cuff, then pulls out his chair on the other side of the desk. They sit in silence for a moment, Wyndeer taking in her appearance, Cara biting back her urge to talk knowing that he prefers to control the conversation.

"You look healthy," he announces.

"Shard," she shrugs, explaining what he already knows. His extended pause plucks at her nerves. Unable to sit in silence for too long she draws in a breath and readies herself to plunge into her explanation. His hand, resting casually on the table between them, draws back to show her his palm. She squeezes her lips together and waits.

"Draig has shared a summary of your conversations with him last night, and his opinion of your episode. I don't want to hear you tell me that it won't happen again, because I don't believe that to be true." As she opens her mouth to protest, his palm again signals for her to wait.

"I am not going to reprimand you nor are we packing up to leave. I understand that the shard healing has masked how you are coping with your circumstances. I also understand that I may have been too blunt with you when you, rather ineloquently, tried to tell me that you are unfamiliar with our ways and expected behaviours. I have reflected that even if you were familiar, I perhaps forget that you are not a Cadet.

I am inclined to agree with Draig when he points out that even as a Feilaner you would probably never want to be one." He clears his throat.

"I underestimated your distress and failed to appreciate how it has impacted your actions. I would like us to move forward anew. But. I am still the dictator here," he inclines his head and raises an eyebrow in acknowledgement of her word, "you must still follow my rules." It sounds like an apology, she thinks. She doesn't dare ask him if it is. He looks sincere, he sounds sincere. He even sounds sympathetic. He, she realises, is looking at her expectantly.

"Thank you," she says. She cringes at herself; she sounds hesitant and disbelieving. He will take offence.

"Thank you for your understanding." She forces a confidence into her voice, "I appreciate your words." He nods, content with her response.

"But, Cara," he schools, "there cannot be a repeat. You can't lose control like that, with or without a shard in your hand. Self-control is very important in Trisec. Beyond this outpost such a loss of control has consequences. I need you to promise you will tell me when you are struggling. Insist I listen if you need to. It was the truth when we said we will help you." Beyond this outpost. We will help you. Her mind trips on the words. Beyond this outpost is Vheece. Beyond this outpost Draig's contract ends.

Wyndeer's team does short missions. Is there a ' we' beyond this outpost?

"Do you understand, Cara?" he prompts her, leaning forward on the table, his hands loosely clasped together.

"What about Vheece?" she asks quietly. Her hands find the other on her lap, gripping each other tighter than his.

"I have reported your creation of shapes and animals. I stated that you found it difficult to control the images of the animals and that the exercise appeared to exhaust you to the point of needing an extended sleep. I have recommended that you do not repeat the exercise until you have built up more stamina for both controlling the shard and holding your breath."

"And what about the-" she begins but is halted by the raise of his hand.

"Listen carefully, Cara. I have told him about the animals. After the shard use you went to rest in your room. As previously observed, Earthers require more sleep. Draig's report reflects a similar account."

"But?" He shakes his head in warning. She chews her lip.

"This new development of creating shapes will sate him for a short time but he is getting impatient with your progress. We need to make sure you're completing at least two training sessions a day so that I have enough to report back."

"Sure," she mumbles.

"You don't seem enthused by the idea," he says disapprovingly, "I thought you found Crathsun's training helpful?" This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. She shifts in her chair.

"I do, it is," she hesitates. His disapproval deepens.

"It's just- I don't see how moving things around is helping me understand why I'm here and how-." She trails off, even fresh from the shard's healing, saying it out loud is too confronting. He sits back in his chair. His hand runs through his grey locks as he considered his response.

"Do you find the training helpful for development of your control?"

"Yes but." Irritation flickers in his grey eyes. She swallows the rest of her sentence. Short succinct answers, she reminds herself.

"Do you find the breathing development helpful?"

"Yes."

"Has Crathsun been open to your suggestions?"

"Well, yes-""Did the idea to form shapes develop from your increased use of the shard?"

"Y-yes."

"Do you have any other ideas you would like to try with the shard?"

"No."

"Has the shard communicated anything else or anything different to you?"

"No."

"Your options are simple then. Continue to explore what you do know about the shard or stop. But the latter won't progress you towards the answers you seek."

"Yes, I guess," she says slowly, with an edge of defeat.

"Why are you still reluctant?"

"Because-" She rubs a hand across her forehead trying to clear his logic away to uncover her hesitation. The shard is powerful; it scares her. She had lost control; it scares her. She has no answers; it scares her. Yet despite the danger the shard poses, especially with her lack of control, he is still willing to keep her with his team at the outpost to train. And he is right; she has no other way to get her answers.

"Nothing. No, you're right. Maybe I just need some energy or something."

"Have you eaten?"

"Not yet."

"You've eaten nothing since the episode yesterday?" he demands, his tone hardening.

"Cara," He stands up abruptly, giving her an admonishing glare.

"Come. You can tell Draig and I what you learnt about the shards yesterday while you eat." ……

"Hello? Cara?" A weight lands on her shoulder. She blanches, letting out a small yelp before understanding it is just Magse at her side.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were lost in your optics," Magse says. Pushing away her thoughts, Cara blinks herself back into the garage.

"Sorry, I-, I was just thinking about something," she says, making sure to focus on Magse and forcing a small apologetic smile.

"I've asked you three times to help hold the booster coil while I connect the new cable underneath. Did you hear me at all?" Magse asks in concern.

"If you're feeling unwell you can go back inside, and I'll run a diagnostic after I've finished this." Cara shakes her head, "No, I'm fine. Sorry, I just got distracted. Show me which bit you want me to hold." She takes a step closer to the upturned rider and holds out her hands. Magse withdraws a fat cylinder out of the open belly of the rider, easing it carefully into Cara's arms. Cara braces quickly at the unexpected weight of the object Magse had little trouble lifting.

"Just hold that for a few minutes, I'd rather not disconnect it completely, fitting the new thrust cable shouldn't take long." Magse says, her head already disappearing into the inner workings of the rider. Cara's biceps bulge as she wedged her elbows into her hips, testing for a comfortable position to bear the weight of the heavy metal. Now that the storm has passed, everyone is busy with the tidy up.

The large hangar doors of the garage had been blown in during the hurricane winds; one had landed on three of the riders. Two of the riders were irrevocably damaged according to Magse assessment. The third, the one Magse is currently trying to repair, has sustained damage to something extremely technical sounding that Wyndeer and Crathsun had gravely murmured at and asked more questions. Cara had simply interpreted the problem as something that prevented the rider from starting.

Wyndeer and Crathsun have taken the remaining working rider to sweep the perimeter and assess the damage, leaving Magse to fix this rider. Erro has been assigned clean up duty. In addition to not being allowed to talk to Cara alone, Magse has explained that Erro is being assigned every menial task Crathsun can think of. She confided she has little sympathy for Erro's predicament, feeling that he deserves Wyndeer's very real threat to demote him to a Double Blue if he ' fucks up one more thing'.

Cara's mind drifts back to the sand animals, guarding carefully against letting her thoughts venture on to reflect on the sand people. Sure, Erro had triggered her idea to create the sand animals but his chats with her were not the reason she had lost control or fallen apart. She considers again whether she should try to say something to Wyndeer. They were still feeling out their fresh start, she isn't sure he would extend his new understanding to Erro.

"Cara!" Magse snaps. Cara jolts, fumbling the cylinder in her increasingly tired arms. Luckly Magse's hands are underneath and catch it swiftly.

"Cara, if you're not paying attention you're not helping. You're going to end up causing more damage."

"Sorry," Cara mumbles, massaging her arms as she steps back from the rider.

"Maybe I'll just help clear up the debris in the doorway instead so it's easier to get them in and out." The garage is still a mess from the storm. One door, the door that has caused the most damage to the riders, is largely intact and has been propped up on the far wall. The other door, which had remained attach the hinges, had been smashed by the winds. Pieces of it lay strewn across the garage along with branches, leaves, and a lot of dirt.

"Don't bother, Erro will get around to it eventually, " Magse says distractedly, scratching something on her cuff as she frowns at the rider.

"The working riders will be parked next door with the shuttle. There's no point leaving them here with no doors." It hadn't occurred to her that the shuttle they took from the Wixam was still here. She'd been in pain and shock from her attack; she doesn't recall much about the journey here other than Wyndeer's bad temper and everyone else scrambling like worker ants to achieve their sudden departure. Of course it is still here, she chastises herself, they'll need it to leave.

The thought brings a sinking feeling to her stomach.

"Has- Has Wyndeer said when we might leave?" Cara asks tentatively.

"No," Magse replies, bending down again to poke at something inside the rider, "but if the fences are damaged like this garage and some of the other buildings then we might not be able to stay." Cara walks over to the doorway and starts picking up pieces of debris to counter her growing anxiety.

"And, uh, where would we go if we had to leave here?"

"Wyndeer hasn't confirmed, but the last I heard we were expecting to relocate back to the Ninth Command Base."

"Is that in Feilan City?" Cara asks, her next question bitter on her tongue; is that where Argatta is or Vheece?

"Yes, outskirts of Feilan City." Magse slams shut the lid on the rider's underbelly. Like a marble rolling through a smooth track a white light traces the edges of the lid, sealing the opening shut so that no indication of the opening remains on the white surface. Cara rubs at her eyes with the heel of her hand.

"That should do it," Magse announces triumphantly. She turns to Cara and frowns.

"I know Wyndeer said we should answer more of your questions about Feilan and Trisec, but you don't look well for it."

"No, I'm good," Cara protests feebly, "I think I just got some dust in my eyes from this stuff." She gestures to the fragment of door in her arms.

"I thought I said to leave that?"

"Yeah, I'm just trying to be useful," Cara mumbles.

"Well, I'm certainly not going to ask you to help me flip the rider. I'll get Crathsun to help me later." Magse brushes her hands together and walks towards Cara and the doorway.

"I think we are done here. I'm going to do a walkthrough of the outbuildings, see what else it's worth Erro cleaning up. Do you want to join me?"

"Am I allowed to?" Cara asks. Wyndeer might have changed some of their rules but he hadn't said anything about changes to her boundaries.

"Good point, let's head back to the lot while I check." On their way out of the garage they pass Erro dragging a large piece of thin board behind him.

"Is that part of a roof?" Magse asks, stepping aside to let him pass by.

"Yeah, part of one of the labs," Erro grunts, not pausing on his way past. He gives Cara a nod, but no customary smile or glimpse of a dimple.

"This one's one of the smaller sections." The section of roof is collecting branches and loose dirt as he pulls it along the ground. Cara is about to suggest they can help carry it when she catches the shake of Magse's head.

"I saw Wyndeer in the distance," Erro calls over his shoulder, "looks like he and Crathsun are inbound."

"Thanks," Magse calls back, already resuming her way down the path towards the lot.