Bialya;
September 4th;
7:12 EEST
All I could think about was my major headache. It throbbed like a Bosarkean slug was trying to suck my brains out. I'm pretty sure they were extinct, so I don't think that was possible. My head still hurt though, and I couldn't figure out why.
"I was starting to think you would never wake up," a familiar voice said. It was deep and soothing, and I was certain I had heard it before, but where eluded me. For the moment at least.
Despite my killer headache, I forced my eyes open so I could see what the Merlin was going on. Above me stood a light blue skinned fey, his pointy ears sticking out of his head like twigs off a tree. I recognized the stark blue eyes, white hair, and the golden pair of wings on his back. He looked about a year or so older than me, but I knew he was almost the same age.
Well, tryvanka.
I shot up in the low cot I was in and tried to scramble away the best I could. The last time I had seen Drygon, it hadn't gone that well. By my standards, at least. By fey standards, we practically parted as best friends.
"I'm not here to hurt you," Drygon told me, his pale eyes earnest.
"Then what are you doing here?" I spat at him, "What am I doing here?"
"This isn't easy to explain." Drygon sighed and sat at a stool near my cot. We were in a plain tent, and it was unbearably hot. There was nothing else but the cot and the stool, which was good since the tent was so small.
"Neither was surviving the Arctic, and we both did that," I said tartly.
"I suppose so." Drygon chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. "I've always loved your quick wit."
I gave him a dry look, immune to his compliments. He was a fey; you can't trust them. I learned that a long time ago.
"Okay, okay." Drygon put his hands up in surrender. "I will tell you everything, but I do not know if you will believe me. A few days ago, I was working-"
"So you're still a gun for hire?" I scoffed. That was just low, even for a fey.
"No, I am not. Not anymore. I am here for another reason. Now will you just let me finish my story?" Drygon asked. I nodded. "Like I said, I was on a job and I found you unconscious. I do not know how you got there or what happened to you. I took you back here to rest. You haven't woken at all since I found you, despite the revival spells I used. I was beginning to think you would not wake at all."
"Unconscious? I do not remember anything, especially being anywhere so hot. Where are we?"
Drygon hesitated, before standing up and extending his hand to me. "See for yourself."
I checked for any hidden weapons before I took his hand and shakily got to my feet. My legs certainly felt like I hadn't used them in days. To my embarrassment, I had to lean on him to just remain standing, but he mentioned nothing of it.
He helped me to the flap of the tent, then opened for me to see outside. My mouth fell open like my brother about to eat a huge burger. It can't be, but it was. How in the name of Merlin's high waisted robes did I get here?
The landscape in front of me was deadly dry and hot; a desert. I was in the desert. Fera de Chateies, the girl who grew up in the Arctic, was in a scorching hot desert. There was no way I came here out of my own free will. I was practically melting right now, just standing in the shade of the tent. I couldn't even perform a basic whisper spell right now. No wonder I felt like tryvanka.
"What the Lemuria?" I asked aloud, balking at the sight in front of me. "Where the Merlin am I?"
"Bialya," Drygon answered, a hand on my arm to keep me from falling over.
"I don't even know what the Merlin that is. What day is it?"
"September 2nd."
"WHAT?! It was just February yesterday! How do I even know you are telling the truth?" I tried to step away from him, but I ended up stumbling and almost falling. Drygon helped me up again.
"You may perform a truth spell on me, if you so wish. I will not try to stop you."
I narrowed my eyes at the sincere look on his face. There was no way I could perform a truth spell right now, but I could at least try.
"Tranu ban manve, dag ala link.
Grant taik maga tranu monté
Kyk link waf klait vink.
Kyk tranut waf sain vink."
I gulped as I felt magical energy leave me, making me feel way more drained than usual. Drygon put both hands on my shoulder to hold me steady.
"Fera." I had to bite back a growl at my real name. I forgot he knew that, but it's not like I could hide it from him. I had grown up with him. "You are in Bialya, and it is September, and I am here to help you, not to harm you."
I sighed, knowing that resisting a truth spell would be hard and, in the case of this spell, painful. I really was in Bialya, wherever that was, and Drygon wouldn't try to kill me. For now. And I can't remember the last six months. Wonderfull.
"It's so hot," I complained, wiping the sweat from my forehead.
"I can get you something cooler, and more befitting to your station." Drygon cast a glance at the uniform I always wore when protecting Boston. I will admit, it wasn't a very fey thing to wear. It was too plain for them.
"O-okay. I'm just going to sit in there and try to remember how the Merlin I got here." I held my hand to my head, stumbling to the best of my ability to my cot. Drygon gave me a worried look, then disappeared to find me something more fey.
I sat on the edge of my cot, rubbing my head and searching for something that wasn't even there. Six months. I couldn't remember anything from the last six months. Was it mind control? No, I don't think so. The headache was more centralized than this.
Think, think, think, what was the last thing you remembered?
Mr. Nelson, I remember him. There was an argument. I stormed off, and- that's all. Could I have run away and hit my head somewhere along the way? No, it was six months. I couldn't have gone under for so long. I wouldn't have come to the desert either.
I had to have come here for a reason. It was there, on the edge of my mind, but I couldn't grasp it. It was dangling right in front of me and it was annoying.
"Fera." Drygon knocked on the tent post to let me know he was back. He stepped in, carrying the typical garb of our people. "I hope this will suffice. I found the clothing spell you used when we were kids harder than expected."
"It is fine. Thank you." I took the dress from him, feeling the soft fabric. It didn't feel like the spell was hard for him. It was light blue and white, my two favorite colors.
Drygon politely took his leave so I could change. I sighed as I held the dress in front of me. It had been ages since I had last worn something like this; I was not looking forward to the corset.
I put on the corset first, then tried to put the dress on over that. To my misfortune, I didn't fit. Clearly, Drygon hadn't taken into account the fact that I was older now. I tried the dress on again after tightening my corset to the point I could barely breathe. At least I fit now.
The thick embroidery on the bodice made it stiff, but the skirt of the dress was light and flowy and allowed plenty of airflow. There were no sleeves since it was a halter top. It was a popular style among the fey since it made room for the wings.
I took my sweltering boots off and replaced them with gladiator sandals that laced all the way up to my knees. I looked like a proper fey now, minus the wings.
Once finished, I stepped out of the tent and showed myself off to Drygon. For the first time, I noticed that my gown matched his own suit coat and breezy trousers, only mine was more extravagant since I held a higher station than him among the fey.
"You look like a true fey," Drygon complemented, but it made my insides twist a little. I didn't like the idea of being a "true fey", whatever that meant. "It has been so long since I last saw you, and it saddens me to see that you hide your wings with a glamour."
I avoided his eyes, my face red from both embarrassment and heat. You only hide your wings as a fey if you are trying to blend among humans. In my case, I was constantly trying to do that, but it was considered disrespectful to hide your wings when in the presence of another fey.
"I have done it for so long, I have forgotten what they look like," I admitted, chuckling nervously. I sounded like a chicken during a nervous breakdown.
"Then surely you want to see them as much as I do," Drygon tempted. I was being really rude, and it has been ages since I removed my glamour.
"I-," I sighed, "Fine."
I bent over and lifted the skirt of my dress to remove the string anklet I always wore. A glamour was different from an illusion; widely different. An illusion could hide who you were, but a glamour hides what you are. I could do an illusion with a snap of my fingers, but a glamour was powerful and required something to concentrate the magic. Most fey, including myself, used jewelry. As long as I was wearing the piece of jewelry, the glamour would remain.
It felt weird to be missing that familiar weight on my ankle. It was a thin enough anklet that it didn't even bother me when I put on shoes, and it was inconspicuous. Perfect for a glamour concentrator.
When I rose again, Drygon was staring at the wings on my back with wonder. It was a common superstition that every pair of fairy wings were the same or at least similar. This was a human superstition, so of course it's false. A fairy's wings depends on two things; family lineage, and what court you are part of. My family is known for what human's usually imagine fairy wings to look like, while Drygon's family had large butterfly wings, though they were mostly in colors and shapes unfound in normal butterflies. Court really isn't that much of a determining factor. It's more categorical. Fey of the Seelie court usually have fairer wings, such as butterfly wings or a human's idea of fairy wings. Fey of the Unseelie court typically have giant feathered wings in various shades and shapes, or the wings of insects that are usually unwanted. Fey of the Grief court, mine and Drygon's court, can have any wing type imaginable, since fey of this court are dissenters of the other two courts.
True to my family's history, my own wings took the appearance of stereotypical fairy wings. I could see my wings out of the corner of my eyes because of their wide span; they were longer and thinner than most stereotypical wings. The color started off as white, then faded into blue, then faded again into purple. They were built for speed and agility, unlike Drygon's wings, which were mostly for show. From far away, my wings took the appearance of a purple nebula, something that was breathtaking, even among the fey.
"They're just as beautiful as I remember," Drygon said reverently. He reached out his hand to touch my wings, but I took a quick step back. He looked disappointed, but lowered his hand and adjusted his suit coat. Honestly, how was he wearing that? He must have been using a cooling spell, which I desperately wished my own dress had been enchanted with. It was sweltering.
The sound of footsteps approaching us in the coarse sand had me hurrying to put my anklet back on. Ten seconds of visible wings was good enough for me. Plus, I wasn't entirely comfortable with having everyone in existence knowing my true heritage. If there was one thing I do remember, it's that Boston already dislikes me.
The footsteps happened to belong to something I had never seen in this lifetime. It was humanoid, but its skin was paler than my own, and the three red marks on its cheeks and clear dome of a head that showed off its brain gave off the idea that it was not human.
"Drygon," the pale being greeted in a voice that sounded male. Oh, that just made him even more creepy.
"Psimon. Have we received information on the Superboy's location?" Drygon said self-importantly.
"Yes," Psimon drawled. From their tones of voice, I'd say Drygon was the one in charge and the one known as Psimon wasn't too happy about it. "He was last seen in Sector 12, but he may have moved on since then. Shall we fetch him?"
"Yes. Ready your vehicles," Drygon ordered. Psimon gave him a begrudging nod, then left.
"You're using vehicles? But that's technology, Drygon," I teased Drygon, then froze. Since when had we become friends again? It's only been five minutes.
"Sometimes we have no choice but to stoop so low," Drygon said while wrinkling his nose in disgust.
"I would not say air conditioning is so low," I commented, fanning my face. "What is the Superboy anyway?"
"A danger to the citizens of Bialya if not properly contained. That is why Psimon and I are here, and it may be why you are here, as well. You like to help people, remember?"
"I do remember that. Not much else, though."
At my wisecrack, Drygon smiled down at me, since I was a head shorter than him, then extended his elbow for me to slip my hand into the crook of. Such a gentleman; much better than the youth of today. Cough, cough, Wally, cough, cough.
Wait, who's Wally? The name seemed important to me, but I couldn't put a face to it. It was right there, on the tip of my tongue, along with a few other names. There was one that started with an R, and one that ended with an N. I just couldn't remember. At all. I knew the Wally person was annoying, that I could remember. Maybe they were friends from Boston, but that seemed unlikely.
My thoughts were interrupted when I tripped on the front of my skirt and almost landed face first in the sand. Luckily, Drygon was used to my clumsiness and caught me just in time.
"Thank you, Drygon."
He only nodded in return, a soft smile on his lips. I could practically hear him mocking me in his head.
Drygon escorted me to the waiting vehicles, where people who I guessed to be Bialyans were sitting impatiently. One, who looked to be in the highest position among the humans, spoke to Drygon in rapid, angry-sounding Bialyan. Drygon responded in kind and the human seemed placated. Hmm, I didn't think he'd take the time to learn any other human language besides English or Russian. I practically had to force him to learn either.
Drygon hopped into the back of a jeep with Psimon and extended his hand to help me up. I wasn't too sure about the jeep, with the looks the human's were giving me. It was unnerving to say the least. But I figured, if it did come to it, I can easily turn them into ice statues. It was a favorite pastime of my mother: thankfully, she wouldn't be doing much of it now.
I reluctantly took Drygon's hands and climbed into the jeep next to him. The Psimon fellow sat on the other side of Drygon, and I was glad for it. I still couldn't get over the off feeling he gave me, like something wasn't right. I'm pretty sure it was the fact that his head was a clear dome and his brain was freakishly pink.
As we drove, the hot wind blowing in my face did little to cool me off, and this stupid corset was making it hard to breath. I'm sure my skin was far past a healthy shade of pink. Oh, what'd I give to be a human who doesn't have to wear stuffy fey garments or who doesn't melt in the noon day sun. Of course, humans were rather idiotic too, so I didn't want to be one that badly.
I don't know how long we drove in the hot sun. It was probably hours. Boring hours. All there was to do was sit in the back of the jeep with my arms and legs crossed, glaring at the sunny landscape. Whoever the Superboy was, they were going to a lot of effort to find him.
When something finally did happen, it was almost sunset, providing a much needed cooling effect on this awful desert. My relief was short lived, however, when something shook the ground so horribly that it caused our jeep to swerve and tip over. Drygon, Psimon, and I were able to jump out before impact. The human occupants weren't so lucky.
I picked myself up and spit out the sand that had managed to find its way into my mouth. Ewww….
"What the Merlin was that?" I grumbled, my mouth and tongue feeling gritty because of the sand.
"That is our special guest. Shall we greet him?" Drygon, looking as pristine as usual despite being thrown into the sand, extended his elbow to me once more.
"I think he's already greeted us," Psimon said, pulling up the hood of his coat to hide his disturbing head. Can't say I wasn't glad for it.
Angry shouting in Bialyan over a sand dune told us where we could probably find the mysterious person. Sighing, I followed Drygon as he trudged up the dune. He was polite enough to avoid flying so I could keep up with him, but this sand was still the worst thing in the existence of the universe.
Seriously? What dimwitted sorcerer invented sand? It had to be some idiot trying a spell that was way beyond their abilities. Anything so horrendous, useless, and ugly had to be made on accident. It was gritty and tiny and itchy and it got everywhere where it wasn't wanted. Nothing was worse.
"De tous les endroits où je pouvais paraître inconscient et sans aucun souvenir des six derniers mois, il devait être le pire endroit sur cette stupide planète obsolète. Je déteste cet endroit horrible," I muttered as I forced myself to go up the dune. Every step I took sunk my foot under the sand, getting the awful stuff into my sandals and under its laces, grinding it against my skin until it was more pink than an actual skin color. What could possibly be worse?
You know, it's saying stuff like that gets me in trouble. The universe just loves to prove me wrong.
In this case, it was in the form of the Superboy.
I'm ashamed to say I shrieked just a little bit when he charged towards us as soon as we climbed to the top of the sand dune. I was able to dodge his fists right before a hard kidney punch, but I tripped in the process and tumbled down the sand dune. Yay.
Sand sprayed into my eyes and mouth, tangled itself in my hair, and I'm pretty sure I got some in my ears. That's just gross.
"Fera, contain him!" Drygon shouted from where he was hovering in the air with his wings, well away from the attacking Superboy.
"Contain him!? How the Merlin am I supposed to do that? He just created a seismic event that knocked over a jeep, with us in it!" I screeched at him, trying my best to run away from the Superboy with my blasted dress that I kept tripping on.
"Use your vines." Drygon was oddly calm for someone that was just tackled out of the air by a deranged lunatic that was trying to kill us.
"There is no water here. They cannot grow!"
"Pull the water from the air!" Drygon managed to squirm his way out of the Superboy's grip, surprisingly, and now was running for his life like Psimon, the humans, and myself.
"There is no water in the air!"
"Just TRY!"
Hiding behind one of the few trucks that had survived the Superboy's tiny earthquake, I decided I really didn't like being yelled at during stressful situations. But I knew I had to do something. Ça va mal finir.
With nothing better to do, I dug both of my hands underneath the sand so I could be closer to the fertile soil that was hopefully there. I tried my best to ignore the feeling of the sand under my nails and between my fingers. Instead, I focused on looking for the water that was hopefully beneath its surface. Deep beneath its surface. Just a little water; that's all I needed.
I gasped when it first hit me. It was like a wave of power and age. I had forgotten that deserts were once oceans, but now I could feel it. The ancient sea life, swimming around, carefree, until a bigger creature came and snacked on them.
Ughhh… that wasn't a very pleasant image. Don't think about that.
Despite the rather, um, gruesome scenes the water had experienced, and the dry heat of the sun beating down on the land, it was still there. The water was still strong and wished to be of use again.
Who was I to deny it of it's wish?
This time, the rumbling of the earth wasn't caused by the Superboy. It was a dozen vines, erupting from the sandy ground, and wrapping themselves around the out-of-control teen. Well, I think he was a teen. He looked like one, but looks are often deceiving.
Anyways, the Superboy struggled against them, and he was much stronger than me. And I could barely breathe. And it was unbearably hot. Add those factors together, and the Superboy would escape any minute.
"Psimon, you need to control his mind," Drygon ordered from somewhere above us.
"Doesn't seem to be much mind in their left to control," Psimon stated. My Merlin, he is so creepy. "But… be still."
At those words, the Superboy immediately stopped struggling and fell over, unconscious. I was more than relieved and felt like falling over myself, but any sign of weakness shown in public was deeply frowned upon by the fey. Strength and bravery was everything to them, and anything else was just useless. It was a strange way of life, but it's been this way for eons and it's kept us alive so far.
I took a short break to catch my breath, then dragged myself out of the sand. The sleeping form of the Superboy looked awfully calm for someone who had just tried to kill us. Slowly, I approached him, squatted down, and carefully poked him in the side. Yep, definitely out.
"Good work, Psimon," Drygon congratulated, landing on the ground next to me. He barked something at the Bialyan humans, and they jumped into action, cleaning up the jeep wreckage and loading the Superboy into a covered truck.
While Drygon was busy giving orders, he made sure he was near me at all times, even going so far as to drag me along behind him when he had to oversee the cleanup of the vehicle we had almost died in. I had the distinct feeling that he was babysitting me, which I really didn't appreciate. I was older than him, for Merlin's sake.
Soon enough, we were ready to be on our way again and Drygon stuck to me like a fly to honey. Even when we boarded a jeep and a, uh, mentally impaired human tried to sit between us, Drygon gave him a fiery glare and he scurried off.
I know I should have confronted him about it, but we haven't seen each other in years and years, and I didn't want to ruin it so soon. Besides, he was fey. They're weird creatures, and their relationships were even weirder. And I had other things to worry about.
Our jeep was driving behind the truck that held the Superboy captive, all the better to keep an eye on him with. I couldn't help wondering where he had come from and why he was here. The both of us showed up in this goodness forsaken place at around the same time; could we have come for the same reason? It seemed a far fetched notion, especially since the Superboy had just tried to kill me, and was completely out-of-control.
Well, a lot of my friends end up doing that at some point. I'm starting to think I'm the problem. I wasn't even sure if I had friends right now; it was hard to remember.
And that brought me back to the issue I liked to call "How the Merlin did I Lose Six Months of Memory?"
I believe it was very aptly named.
Obviously, I couldn't remember what caused me to forget. There were a few things, but they were foggy at best. I remembered an underwater building, filled with magic and… a friend. Only one. Aqualad, maybe? I remembered him at least, and crime fighting in Boston with him and Aquaman.
I also remembered an above ground school, this one not filled with magic. Something… attacked me, I think. There were other people there, but… anything else eluded me.
There was something else too. More of a feeling than a memory. A deep, aching pain. Something bad happened in the last six months, and I could still feel its pain even with no memory. It must have been horrible.
Wasn't that the story of my life?
I spent the entire ride back to the tent area I had first awakened in with my thoughts. I didn't even let out a tiny squeak as our driver went over a dune especially fast and caught some air time.
Night had completely fallen once we returned. It was pitch black and the only lights, which came from the tents and the vehicles, didn't help much with walking. Luckily enough for me, it was sand. How hard would it be to trip in sand?
Ooh, that's going to bite me in the butt later.
Several Bialyan soldiers carried a metal stretcher with the Superboy strapped to it into the largest tent. They must have expected him to wake up any minute, because there were a large number of straps tying him down. He looked to be more leather than boy at this point.
As soon as Drygon's feet touched the ground, he was giving orders to everyone within a twenty foot radius. Darkly dressed soldiers went to work hiding the vehicles under tan colored tarps that blended in with the sand, people in lab coats oversaw machines that kept making annoying beeping noises, some soldiers unloaded the contents of the trucks, while others ran around with their guns at the ready. With all the confusion and chaos going around, it was easy for me to slip away from Drygon and find some place to sit inside, away from the crazy mania that was happening outside.
I tried to find the tent I woke up in, but they all looked exactly the same to me, and I didn't want to walk into a stranger's tent. I decided to play it safe and go into the large tent in the center, where everyone else was going in and out of constantly.
I would later realize that it would be the best decision in my entire life. Right now though, I was kind of questioning it.
The first thing I saw when I stepped through the tent flap was a strange machine that was a box at the bottom and a sphere on top. The sphere was spinning around at a dizzying pace, making it look blurry, but it also looked to be trapped in some sort of metal cage.
The first thing I heard was that annoying beeping sound getting louder and more rapid. I think it was coming from the strange machine, because the beeping seemed to be timed with each rotation the sphere made. Fascinating, but irritating.
Psimon was already in the tent, looking super creepy as he watched them hook the Superboy up to some sort of machine that didn't look very friendly. Well, all machines looked malicious to me, but this one was especially malicious.
"Isn't it beautiful, Arctica?" Psimon asked me out of the blue, making me jump. How did he even know I was here? I had been hiding in the corner and watching the Bialyans work.
"I wouldn't call it beautiful, exactly," I said hesitantly, stepping out of my shadowy corner.
"But necessary," Drygon's voice said from behind me. I almost squeaked when he put his hand on my shoulder, a hand that wouldn't let me go anywhere. Oh, I hate it when people appear out of nowhere.
"What are you going to do to him?" I glanced back at Drygon, his face settled in a deep frown, then at the Superboy, who looked quiet and peaceful now, instead of raging and dangerous.
"What we must, to ensure he does not harm our cause any longer."
I didn't like the sound of that. It sounded creepy, even if it was coming from a beautiful fey like Drygon. Those words would suit Psimon's dialogue better.
"Raise to Shock Level One," Drygon ordered. The scientists at the machine the Superboy was hooked up to nodded their heads, turned some dials, and pushed some buttons.
My eyes widened as the Superboy's screams began. They were torturing him, sending bolts of electricity coursing through his body.
"What the Merlin are you doing? Stop!" I rushed forward and tried to push the scientist out of the way so I could turn the horrid machine off. Drygon wrapped his arms around me and picked me up off the ground, pinning my own arms to my sides so I couldn't move. "Let me go! Let me go! You can't just hurt him!"
"Fera, calm down!"
"I am not going to calm down! You're hurting an innocent boy! He's just a little kid!" If I hadn't been so exhausted from spending all day in the sun, and wearing this tight dress, I would have turned everyone in that room into an ice sculpture right then and there. But I had spent all day in the sun, and worn this stupid dress. Right now, I doubt I could even conjure a truth spell anymore. So, struggling and trying to head butt Drygon would have to do for now.
"Arctica, they are the reason Mr. Nelson is dead!"
I'm pretty sure everything stopped. At least for me.
He was… gone.
And I remembered now.
There were… people there. The Tower of Fate. There weren't supposed to be.
Klarion.
He had done it.
Tried to kill me too. And Nabu.
But, Nabu wasn't Mr. Nelson.
Someone else was. Someone annoying. And redheaded. And young.
"But, but, but- I"
It was safe to say that I completely fell apart. Everything just… stopped. I couldn't feel… anything. It was numb, but painful at the same time. I wanted to cry, to sob uncontrollably until there were no more tears left. But there would never be no more.
Just like there would never be another day of training.
Or laughing over young sorcerers who don't know what they're doing.
Or talking about the people we used to love.
Or saving me from an angry mob.
Or enjoying tulipes on a hot summer day.
It's all gone.
Gone.
Gone.
Gone.
Gone.
Gone.
Gone.
Gone.
"Arctica."
What the Merlin's pants was that?
"Can you hear me?"
The voice was inside my head. It was much clearer than the guard telling Drygon of activated motion sensors.
"I must be going insane," I mumbled aloud. Drygon was holding me up still, rather than restraining, and it was a good thing too. I couldn't feel my knees. "There's a voice in my head."
"What?" Drygon asked sharply. In his shock, he dropped my limp body and I crumpled to the floor, holding my head with tears blurring my eyes.
"Arctica?" The voice in my head had the audacity to sound concerned. Since when had I ever been concerned about my own well being? Was I developing a split personality?
"You're not, Arctica, I'm-"
Whatever the voice was going to say was lost on me as soon as Drygon grabbed my shoulders and shook me like a salt shaker. "Fera, snap out of it. You can't listen to the voice. They're an enemy. They are here to destroy Bialya. We must stop them."
I snapped out of my daze and stared into the insistent eyes of Drygon, my friend. He wouldn't lie to me. We had known each other since we were kids. He was my oldest friend; that was still alive, at least. I could trust him, even if he was a fey.
Drygon was right. The voice inside my head was not my own. They sounded different, felt different. And was an idiot to enter a fey's head. Only the truly stupid did that.
"Over there," I said weakly, pointing to the Superboy. I could see it now, a figure camouflaged into their surroundings. It floated above the ground, in front of Superboy, and facing me. It just wasn't very good camouflage, because I could still see the outline of the person.
Drygon stood up, helping me up with him. He glared at the camouflaged figure, one arm protectively around me.
"Wait, I'm trying to help you!"
I ignored the voice in my head, deciding to listen to Drygon's words rather than a mysterious stranger's.
"Drygon, the motion sensor in Sector 24," a guard insisted. Drygon let out a low growl and held me tighter to him. The guard flinched and backed away a step.
"Take care of her," Drygon whispered in my ear, "I'll go deal with the rest."
I nodded, sad to see him go but glad to be rid of his over-protectiveness. I watched him leave, then armed myself with an extra tent pole lying around. The Bialyans sent me wary looks, hey made no move to stop me though, as per Drygon's orders.
"Ar-Arctica?" The voice said nervously. I could see the camouflaged figure back away from me slowly.
"I don't know you!" With that ominous war cry, I jumped up and smacked the figure out of the air with one good blow from my pole.
The figure turned out to be a female green martian with long red hair and brown eyes. A memory flashed in my mind at the sight of her, but only for a brief moment. Working in an oddly familiar kitchen together to make dinner for the Team.
Another memory, another glimpse of us together. Talking to a red robot with a blue cap on a screen. Red Tornado.
I was forcefully pulled out of my mind as the martian landed on the ground, and me on top of her, pinning her down. I held my pole against her neck, threatening to block her air pipes the moment she moved.
"Who are you?" I panted, way more exhausted than I should have been after just jumping a couple of feet. The scientists and soldiers stared at us like we were an entirely different species, which we were, but that's besides the point.
"It's me, M'gann. We're on a team together. We're friends!" The martian pleaded. I could hear the Superboy growling behind us, struggling to escape his bonds.
"I don't believe you," I growled, even though my most recent memory flashes proved otherwise. But they probably weren't real, anyways. She just put those in my head to make me think we were friends.
"But we are! I made cookies for you, and you made me croissants. We go on missions together, to save people. With Superboy, and Kid Flash, and Artemis, and Robin, and Aqualad."
I'm pretty sure I had never met the rest of those people, but Aqualad, I remembered. I knew him. We had worked in Boston together.
"Aqualad?" My grip on the pole loosened at the sound of his name, my voice sounding far more fragile than I wanted.
"Yes!" He's here! You have to help him!"
"And why should I believe you?"
The martian looked uncertain for a split second, before a determined look slid onto her face. "Because you know me."
"I don't know-"
The rest of my words were lost in my throat as the martian slammed her palm into my forehead. I let out a strangled gasp as my mind swam in memories that I had forgotten were mine.
Aqualad, Kid Flash, Robin, Superboy, and I were running through an empty hallway, my heartbeat going sixty miles a minute in fear. Something was chasing us; genomorphs. Robin found us an escape through some events. Kid Flash and I were arguing, I tried to kick him the face but missed.
My mind flashed to another memory before I got to finish that one.
It was the five of us again, along with someone else. The martian. We were facing off against a robot that could control tornadoes and lightning and clouds. We weren't doing well, and our teamwork was even worse.
Another memory, this time we were on an island in the Caribbean Sea, watching a factory burn as Kid Flash was hanging upside down by my vine friends.
A new one, with us riding motorcycles together down a highway while I clenched mine in fear. Robin was explaining the word "aster" to me, and I was insistent that it wasn't a word.
The scene changed again and I was sitting on a chair in a computer lab, my leg bleeding from a knife wound. A girl I knew as Artemis was arguing with Kid Flash, while Aqualad and M'gann the Martian tried to dispel the tension.
Robin, M'gann, and Kaldur watching a cauldron boil on the stove while Wally raided the fridge and Artemis looked at him in disgust. Superboy was on the couch, watching a staticy TV.
Me, crying over the limp body of Mr. Nelson, as the arms of people I couldn't see wrapped around me.
Me and Kaldur in Atlantis, cleaning up after the attack from Black Manta, AKA one of the best weeks of my life.
Batman in front of a holographic computer showing a map with a blinking red light almost near the center and talking to the seven of us. "The Watchtower detected an immense power surge in the Bialyan desert. Spectral analysis revealed elements non-terrestrial in origin. Find out what happened at that site, what landed there. Bialya is a rogue state ruled by Queen Bee, and not a member of the League's U.N. charter. All communications are subject to interception. Maintain radio silence at all times."
My surroundings changed to that of a desert at night. I was glaring out at the sand, less than happy to be in the miserable place.
"You'll land in Kourak on Bialya's border, two clicks from the hot zone."
I kept watch over our small camp while Artemis, Robin, and Kid Flash investigated the site of the power surge. Aqualad out a reassuring hand on my shoulder, but I could tell that he was as uneasy as me in such a dry place.
Another memory, Robin typing into a huge computer thing that I didn't understand in the slightest.
"Jackpot!" Kid Flash shouted, "The site's lousy with zeta beam radiation."
"Detecting non-terrestrial trace elements from the tent," Robin said, looking up from his screen.
"I'll check it out in camouflage mode," M'gann offered.
"Careful," Superboy told her. I reminded myself to make a bet with Robin later about when they would be getting together.
"And maintain telepathic contact," Kaldur instructed.
"I will Aqualad."
And that was the last of the memories. The more prominent ones, at least. I remembered everything else perfectly now, those were just the most important to me and apparently had always been at the forefront of my mind.
I can't believe I had actually gone to a desert, willingly, with a bunch of people I thought in my mind to be friends. I had really changed in the last six months.
"Ms. Fera, are you quite alright?" The creepy voice of Psimon asked me. I had forgotten he was here, and that posed a bit of a problem for M'gann and I.
"M'gann, that creepy guy with a hood is Psimon. He can read and control minds, but he's not as powerful as you. Drygon, the fey that was here a minute ago, has gone after the others. You take care of Psimon and get Superboy out of here. I'll deal with Drygon," I told M'gann briskly. I desperately hoped that Drygon had warned Psimon to guard and close his mind with a fey around, or else he would have just heard everything.
"Got it."
"On three, I let you go and we part ways as quick as possible. One, two…"
I moved my pole from her throat and swung out at the people that had gathered around us. Most jumped away from me, but a few, mostly scientists, fell to the ground upon contact. I jumped off M'gann and kicked Psimon in the gut so she would have time to delve into his mind.
The martian flew far off the ground so the guards couldn't reach her, and then put both of her hands to her head, staring intently at Psimon. They were locked in a staring match now, while everyone else was just plain shocked at my sudden betrayal.
Using that to my advantage, I bolted out of the tent as fast as I could, snagging a guard's keys to a vehicle as I did so. Drygon was too far ahead of me to run, and I was far too tired to fly. My only option was driving, and I prayed to the ancestors that I didn't get myself killed.
It was an odd sort of thrill to be running from a half a dozen guards with keys to a vehicle I barely knew how to drive and a friend that was watching my back.
I jumped into one of the jeeps, completely forgoing the door, and hoping that it was the right one. Apparently, I was on the good side of the ancient fey today, for the key inserted into the ignition and the vehicle started without a hitch. Now the only problem was figuring out how to drive the stupid thing.
Needless to say, there was a lot of screaming as I sped away from the tent. Some of it was from the Bialyan people. Most of it was from me. This jeep was huge, and the biggest thing I've ever drove was an SUV. This was a big step up.
My hands were white knuckled as I drove away from the scene. I didn't dare glance behind me to see if they were following, I just floored it. I don't know how I didn't die, I could barely see over the steering wheel. I'm pretty sure I used up all of my luck in that fifteen minute drive.
I could sense the trail Drygon had left, almost like I was seeing it; a dust, floating in the air and untainted by the wind. My father used to tell me that the fey always had a keen knack for finding each other, but I hadn't believed it until now. Strange what losing six months of memory then having it abruptly return will do to you.
Finally, I spotted that son of a banshee. I could clearly see him in the dark of night, with that faint glow that every fey had. Wally, Artemis, Kaldur and Robin, however, wouldn't even be able to see his outline. It was a fey thing. Again.
I was still a good two, three miles away and I hadn't figured out how to turn the headlights on (again, how am I not dead?), so he had yet to spot me. I slowed the car down, grateful for those driving tips Robin gave me when we were transporting Amazo parts, and jumped out of the vehicle.
Before charging head on into the situation, like a certain someone I knew, I observed what I was dealing with. Drygon crouched on the top of a rock outcropping, staring down at something below him while a bunch of Bialyan soldiers investigated other hiding nooks. He was waiting to catch them off guard, luring them into a false sense of security. What a basic move.
Slowly, I snuck over to the crowded area, carefully staying out of Drygon's line of vision. If he saw my fey glow, I was done for. I knew my teammates were behind that rock Drygon was perched on, but I couldn't get to them without alerting him. I needed to warn the four of them to get out of there, but without M'gann, there was no psychic link. Ugh, the one time I need someone in my head and there's no one available.
What I wanted was the perfect plan to get them all out of there, take care of the Bialyan soldiers, and send Drygon packing. What I got was a sound recording of Robin laughing and then a big explosion.
Why there was one, I don't know. But it caught Drygon's attention. And offered me the perfect chance to knock that sly smirk off of his stupid, beautiful fey face.
Drygon didn't see it coming when a ball of ice the size of a basketball nailed him in the back and pinned him to the sandy desert ground.
I saw Robin, Artemis, and Wally's head peak over the rock outcropping to see what had knocked the wind out of their silent stalker. I was too exhausted to even smile at them as I limped over to Drygon, leaning heavily on my Sorcerer Supreme staff. I'm really glad I remembered that I had that; otherwise, performing that spell might have killed me.
"You lying son of a banshee," I growled, planting my foot on the small of his back.
"Fera, we can-" I silenced with one thwack in the head from my staff.
"We can do nothing, Drygon. You lied to me and convinced me that my friends were my enemies. You are my enemy. I'm not listening to you anymore. Do you understand?" Drygon only meekly nodded his head, his face still buried in the sand. "Good. Now listen closely. You're going to leave my presence and never return, and you're not going to cause any trouble when you do so."
"And why should I listen to you?" Drygon challenged, his spunk having returned. I put more pressure on the small of his back, leaving him gasping for breath.
"I still outrank you, Drygon, and you will listen, if you know what's best for you." I wasn't really sure if I could beat him if it came down to a fight, but if it would give Robin, Wally, and Artemis time to escape with Kaldur, I'd do my best.
It was silent for a long time, and I waited with bated breath. Finally, Drygon let out a low growl that sounded like "fine". I lifted my foot from his back, but kept a firm grip on my staff in case he tried anything.
Drygon got up from the desert floor and brushed the sand off himself, purposely brushing it onto me instead. I gritted my teeth, but kept my tongue so he wouldn't get the satisfaction of my anger.
"The other courts will hear about this," Drygon warned.
I scoffed. "They can do what they like. They can't touch me without my permission."
Drygon's face settled into a dark look before he took off with his wings, glaring at me as he flew away. I watched until he was out of sight and then some more. He might turn around, his sword in hand and ready to pick a fight.
"Arctica?" Robin asked tentatively after I stared across the desert for several minutes.
"Yes?" I said tartly, letting my eyes wander off the horizon for a second to glance at him.
"Want to go home?"
I whipped around to stare at him and the others, almost falling from how dizzy it made me. What a random question, but I realized it's what I wanted more than anything right now. To go home. And take a shower. Then go to sleep.
"Yeah," I said weakly, my eyes tearing up. What I had done was starting to catch up to me. I imprisoned Superboy. I hurt M'gann. And I just yelled at and basically banished from my presence the first friend I ever had.
Robin took a hesitant step forward, then carefully wrapped his arms around me in a hug. Too exhausted to even care, I melted into him and started to cry. I wanted to go home. I wanted to see Mr. Nelson. I wanted a decent night of sleep. And Robin just offered one of those things to me. Of course I hugged him.
Qurac;
September 5th;
02:32 EEST
It took us almost the rest of the night to find the bioship. As soon as we did, Wally and Robin hooked Kaldur up to a rehydration machine. All there was left to do was wait for M'gann and Superboy. I hoped they were okay; I rushed out of there without giving them much help.
I had been quick to change out of that stupid corset and dress and into a spare uniform I kept aboard for this kind of situation. Now, I sat next to the unconscious Kaldur in the bioship, forbidden from doing anything by Artemis, Wally, and Robin. Apparently, I looked like I had died, then been brought back to life, then died again, and then rose as a zombie. So, not good.
I watched Artemis as she wet a cloth, then dabbed Kaldur's forehead with it. According to Robin, he didn't look as bad as me anymore, but I didn't think I looked that worn out.
"Hey everybody, I've got Superboy." I let out a breath of relief at the sound of M'gann's voice in my head. At least they were okay. "He's back to normal, and we're on our way."
I nearly fell off my chair when Kaldur suddenly sat up, his eyes wild with panic as he looked around at Robin, Wally, Artemis, and I. "Who are you, and how did you get inside my head?!"
Artemis gently pushed him back down and Kaldur's eyes landed on me. "Arctica, where are we?"
I smiled softly and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's a long story."
"Hello, Megan! Aqualad's memories! I knew I forgot something," M'gann exclaimed.
"Aw, man. Me, too. I didn't get a souvenir from the mission," Wally complained. I rolled my eyes while Artemis scoffed. Robin was holding back a laugh as he got another hydration thingy ready to hook me up to. I didn't exactly understand how they work, but the same could be said for every modern convenience
"Don't worry. Got the souvenir thing covered," M'gann reassured Wally. I wasn't exactly sure I wanted to know what that meant, but as long as it's not a dog, I'm fine with it.
"Exactly how long is that story?" Aqualad questioned.
"Eh, about six months," Robin answered easily. I laughed lightly, but that ended in a coughing fit.
Okay, yeah. I could see why they made me sit down.
(Rough) Translations
Tranu ban manve, dag ala link. Grant taik maga tranu monté. Kyk link waf klait vink. Kyk tranut waf sain vink (Silvan) - Truth be told, do not lie. Give to me true words. A lie will kill you. A truth will save you.
Ça va mal finir(French) - This is going to end badly.
De tous les endroits où je pouvais paraître inconscient et sans aucun souvenir des six derniers mois, il devait être le pire endroit sur cette stupide planète obsolète. Je déteste cet endroit horrible(French)- Of all the places I could appear with no memory of the past six months, it had to be the worst place on this stupid, obsolete planet. I hate this place.