Flight in the Dark
The family driver brought her to the Nikos estate just after midnight. His quiet congratulations for her birthday somehow felt more genuine than the chorus of that she'd been given at the gala.
Probably because he actually means it.
"Thank you, Tanny." Pyrrha murmured before getting out, leaving the door open so that they could speak. "I can set the security on my own. I'm sure my mother is already expecting you back."
"Of course, Miss Nikos." They'd had this exact conversation too many times to count. "I will see you in the morning, ma'am."
I won't be here in the morning... unless I lose my nerve.
Not trusting herself to speak, she could only nod and close the door with a gentle push. As always he waited for her to reach the door, tapping out the security code. Only once she had stepped inside and rearmed the system did she hear him pull way, trusting that she was safe behind the best alarms money could buy.
Well, that and he knew she kept enough weapons to fill a small arsenal in her room. She had ever since a particularly obsessive fan had broken into the mansion after her second perfect season. Thankfully he'd done so into her father's study, not her room, and they'd been able to barricade themselves in the kitchen until the police had arrived.
It had still been traumatic enough for everyone involved, and in the aftermath they'd ensured there were always weapons within reach of every bed.
That was the last time that father... no. Focus. You don't have much time.
Moving as quickly as she could in heels, she walked through dark halls illuminated only by the windows. Strode past sculptures on little tables, paintings covering too much of the walls. She couldn't have named half of them, but knew that they represented more wealth than she'd earned the family in an entire year's worth of victories.
"One year to pay for the art." She murmured as she walked. "Two for the cars. One for the hired help. That just leaves the dresses, suits, jewels, galas, dinners..."
Honestly she had no idea how much of the ancestral wealth was even left at this point. She only knew that her success in the competition circuits was the only thing keeping the family's lifestyle intact. Keeping their creditors both at bay, and more importantly from her parent's point of view, keeping them quiet.
How long has it been since mother's last investment scheme failed? Since father refused to find a job below his dignity?
Well, her direct success wasn't paying for such things. There wasn't much money in the under-seventeen competitions, it was really the sponsorship deals. All of which had technically expired twenty-six minutes ago thanks to her coming of age. If her father had his way she'd be spending the next two weeks doing nothing but making appearances in support of signing new ones.
More lucrative ones, more in line with what the star tournament fighters made. Deals for cars, weapons, dust, food, clothing.. anything and everything that could have her name or voice attached, she knew he'd accept. From the plans she'd heard him making it would be a wonder if she had any time at all leftover to even get training in, never-mind attend Haven in the fall.
So long as the lien flowed, he would have her speak for any cause. Put her in a commercial for any quality of item. Plaster her face from here to Atlas.
"...no." A hand shoved open the door to her room, lights automatically rising to a dim glow on her entrance. "I won't. I won't live in this... this dollhouse anymore. I won't be a puppet."
She hunched in slightly even as she said the words, fighting against the urge to see if anyone had heard her.
Calm down Pyrrha. Calm down. No one's home. No one heard but you.
Swallowing, she moved over to her broad bed and more collapsed than sat on its hard mattress. Her fingers began working at the straps to her heels while her eyes took in the room around her for the last time.
Even here, in what had once been her sanctuary... her parents influence was everywhere.
The grand trophy case filled with cups, plates, and medals. Victories in childhood gymnastics... preteen shooting drills... then on to her first junior sparring tournaments. On, and on, and on they went, artfully arranged so that each and every one of them would fit. Someone must have sent a servant on ahead because the newest golden chalice was already fitted in next to the other three in pride of place.
That first victory. The first time I heard four thousand voices screaming my name... I loved that, once.
The same could not be said for the second, or third, and especially not the fourth. Not when looking at them drew her attention to the a second towering display sitting empty next to its full twin. It had been there for more than a year now. A constant reminder that she was expected to fill that one as well.
That her job wasn't finished.
To the right were three paintings done in celebration of her prior wins. Each one showed her standing above her defeated opponent, golden light all around her. It was exactly as tacky as it sounded. She'd hated each and every one even as she'd been forced to praise the high priced artist who'd been commissioned to make them.
Her opponents didn't deserve to be drawn in shadow like that. Broken, beaten, bowed before her like she was a conqueror demanding their surrender.
They hadn't always been there, on that wall. That had once been covered in shelves, each one covered in little stuffed animals. Her first real passion in life. If she focused hard she could... could...
"What did they feel like to hold? When did they take the animals away?" Pyrrha asked her memories. "When did my collections vanish?"
...I don't even remember anymore. What happened to the otter with his crown, grandmother's last gift? The little bean filled animals with their silly smiles, the ones that uncle gave me each holiday?
Thrown away. Auctioned off. Given to an orphanage as a charity scheme. Sold to collectors.
It didn't matter. Everything she'd once cherished had been taken away, replaced with nothing but expectations and demands.
A Nikos shows no weakness. No fondness for useless things. A Nikos exists to excel, and nothing else.
Kicking off her heels, she left them where they feel before standing, striding for the walk-in closet. Her dress came up and over her head, falling to the ground. Picking her way through countless others just like it, or their more revealing counterparts she'd never worn, she found the little set of casual wear that she'd carefully hidden away in the back.
Loose men's jeans that Fusia had bought covered her legs, a belt securing them to her hips, and a black shirt without markings covered her chest. A battered cap that had been left behind in a locker room covered up most of her hair, while two scuffed up athletic shoes completed the outfit.
Nervously stepping over to the nearest mirror, she found...
"...I look like me in cast off clothing." A frantic grabbing of too-large sunglasses had her try again, only for her shoulders to slump before she pushed them up and over top of her hat. "I looked like me in ugly sunglasses."
It would have to do. She didn't have time for anything better.
Next out of the back corner came one of the heavy duffel bags she used to carry things to training and back. A quick tug on the zipper let her make sure that no one had thought to open it, make sure everything she needed was still inside.
"Spare clothes. Water. Jerky. Trail Mix." She carefully picked her way through all of it. "Toothbrush. Toothpaste. Soap. Travel makeup kit. Lien."
The lien was the important thing. In the six months since she had determined her plan, she'd started hiding away what little cash she ever had access to. It wasn't much, a few thousand. She had no idea if that would be enough to pay for a hotel for three months, for food for that long, but it would have to do. Maybe she could... get a job or something. At a restaurant or drive-through maybe? That was what normal girls her age did, right?
Hello, my name is Pyrrha, can I take your order?
Hands rose to her face, a pained groan coming out at the mental image. No. She'd... figure out something. The lien would have to be enough to make it to the start of the semester.
If it all falls apart, I can... fix things with my semblance. That sounds... that sounds grand. Much better than using it in the ring, or having to trade my face for deals.
Pulling the bag's straps over one shoulder, she grabbed her sleeping bag with her free hand before leaving the closet. Once she'd retrieved her scroll from her dress and put it into a pocket, all that was left were her weapons and armor, and she wasted no time in making for the case containing them.
Well, it contained a great many weapons, but the only ones she would be taking were her preferred pair.
Milo fit on her belt, while her tiara, combat clothes, and ammunition filled out the last of the room in her bag. After that it was just a matter of tying that bag to her sleeping one, getting Akouo wedged in, and then making sure she could carry the entire collection on her back.
It was a little awkward, but doable.
Car lights flashing past her window told her that she was out of time. She briefly considered trying to stuff her pillows under her blankets, to make it look as if she was sleeping. That was what they always did in movies when someone ran away in the night.
No. They won't check on me when they get home, they never do. They'll just send a maid to wake me up at dawn, and the maids know better than to let me sleep in. It wouldn't help.
Taking one last look around the room that was not truly hers anymore, she screwed up her courage and got moving. Her eyes stayed on her feet as she walked, not trusting that the sight of the home around her wouldn't break her courage.
Hardwood floors turned into the stone of the driveway.
Stone turned into the tires and dark green metal of Fusia's sedan.
She finally looked up to see herself on the passenger side, her agent looking at her from behind the wheel.
"Pyrrha." Fusia was a serious woman with classical Mistrali features. A cigarette burned between her lips, the windows down just enough to let the smoke escape. "Last chance to back out. Once you get in I'm not stopping until we're there."
Last chance. You could call it all off. Could go back inside. Go to sleep. Find another way out, a safer way out. A way that will hurt fewer people.
That was probably the smart decision. The reasonable one.
...but if I do that, I'll always be their little honor machine, always wonder what could have been.
Her fingers found the handle of the door and pulled it open so that she could put her things in the back. Fusia waited patiently for her to finish, to climb into the passenger seat, then gently pulled out of the ornate driveway.
"Right. I'll get you too the one-thirty shuttle down to the lower city." Fusia spoke in the same way she always did; professionally, without any affection or attempts to drag things out. "Your alias is that of Petra White. It's going to be hard, but don't respond if someone calls you anything else."
Pyrrha nodded once. "What if someone recognizes me?"
The older woman snorted. "Anyone who looks twice is going to recognize you, but a young celebrity going out clubbing under a false name is practically a Mistrali tradition. Just wink and smile if anyone pushes you about it. Ask them about their favorite bars, tell them you'll head there later this week."
Oh dear. "I'll... try."
"Just don't let anyone stop you, or pressure you into autographs. You've got to make the shuttle and get off without incident." She instructed. "Once you're in the lower city, the train station will be right in front of you. Your ticket's in the glove box."
Hesitantly reaching out, she pulled said box open. Three pieces of paper were all that was inside. The top one was covered in the kind of information tickets usually had. Except this one also said 'Petra White' where her name should have been. At least the picture on the right side looked like her, meaning she shouldn't have to rely on her scroll for identification.
"And this will get me to the coast?"
Fusia nodded. "Yeah. Next ticket is your boarding pass for the ship across the narrow sea. If the train is on time you will just barely, and I mean just barely make it before the last call to board. Once you arrive, get off the train and sprint to the docks. Don't let anyone or anything stop you. Speed is the key."
Her mouth and throat suddenly felt dry. "Speed is the key."
"The ship will take you to Lighthouse Academy in eastern Vale. The last ticket will get you on a train from there to Vale itself. After that you're going to be on your own." Her agent went on. Do you have all of that?"
"Shuttle to the first train. Train to the coast." She recited at once. "Once I arrive, I have to sprint to make the ship. We land near Lighthouse Academy, where I'll be taking a train to Vale."
"Good. Have cash on you?"
"Three and a half thousand. Will that be enough for three months?"
She grimaced as they took a sharp turn, accelerating a bit down a brightly lit street. "Honestly? Probably not. Unless you learned to cook for yourself in the last week you're going to spend most of that just on food, and even a cheap hotel would wipe half of that out inside of a month."
"Oh." She swallowed. "I guess I'll have to ask Beacon for help, then."
"That's the smart play. You'll need them to shield you once your parents realize where you've gone, and they will realize it sooner or later Pyrrha. Someone will take a picture and post it online, or some cop will try and ask if you were kidnapped. They'll call it in, and things will get complicated for you."
"...I know."
"You're probably going to be on every newscast by the time you make Vale. Are you going to be able to handle that?"
No.
"I will."
From the short, side-long look Fusia had more than a few doubts.
Not that I can blame her. I've been a polite little pet for so long... do I even remember how to be on my own? Alone in a city I've never visited. No contacts. No friends. Hardly any money. No threat of the Nikos name to help me.
It... was terrifying, yet...
Am I... excited?
She chewed on her lip as Fusia accelerated well past the speed limit. The little car roared along narrow streets, the breaks protesting every time she had to slow so that they could safely move around a corner or stop at the occasional light. Apart from that noise and the sound of the engine, the car was silent until they reached the shuttle station.
The little airship was already present, a tiny handful of people waiting outside for the doors to open once it finished refueling.
"This is it." Fusia took a long drag on her cigarette, exhaling a cloud of foul smoke out the window. "Pyrrha, as someone who has done her best to look after you professionally... I have to say that this is more than a little risky."
"... I know. I'm sorry I asked you to help me."
"Don't be. I'm as happy to insult your father as I am worried about you." Her head shook. "You could always just move out. I've got a spare bed, so does that jerk of a Huntsman you had training you."
Pyrrha felt her lips twitch. "Thank you. But... if I stay, it will be even worse than if I leave."
Fusia grimaced. "...possibly. All right, you're an adult as of an hour ago, so I'll stop trying to talk you out of it. It's your decision. Message me at each stop, would you? I'd really rather not get arrested for aiding and abetting because you got yourself abducted by a gang."
That actually drew a startled laugh from her. "I... I don't think a gang could do such a thing, but I will."
Her agent didn't laugh, didn't smile. "I didn't say they'd fight you, Pyrrha. I don't even want to imagine how much you'd be worth as a hostage, or how much infamy they could get from a video of you online. Don't accept food or drinks from anyone you don't know. Well kept restaurants only, all right?"
Oh. Her mirth faded at once when she realized what Fusia meant. "All right. I promise."
"Thank you." Fusia took another drag, released another long exhalation of smoke, then flicked her cigarette out of the window. "It's time. Good luck."
Pyrrha nodded once more time, then surprised herself by holding a hand out. Fusia glanced at it, then at her... then nodded reached out to take it.
They shook once, as equals.
Then Pyrrha was climbing out of the car. Tickets were folded, shoved into the pockets of her jeans beside her scroll. Her pack was settled over her shoulders, the straps digging in a little from the weight.
It wasn't much, but it felt like too much with each step she took away from Fusia's car. The lights around the little station were too bright, the smells of cigarettes and alcohol too sharp. The sound of the car pulling away nearly made her break.
Nearly made her turn, made her run after Fusia to beg to be taken home.
No! I... I can do this! I have to do this!
Lifting her chin, she reached up to tug her hat down as far as it would go. Then she hid her shaking hands by clutching at the straps wrapped around her shoulders. The few people waiting in line didn't offer her more the exhausted glances as she took her place at the back. Even the man right in front of her, the one with best view of her face, merely gave her a single look over his shoulder before going back to reading on his scroll.
Even when the door finally opened, no one seemed to notice that they'd gained one Invincible Girl. They just handed over a five-lien card as they stepped aboard, an action that she mimicked.
The pilot didn't even look at her while she hid her eyes behind the brim of her cap. Just took her money, fed it into a device, and muttered, "Take any open seat."
She took the one in the absolute back, shifting her bag so that Akouo was hidden. Pressed against her chest as she tried to keep her face behind it all.
No one sat next to her.
Last chance. Last chance. I could run, right now.
No one looked back when the hatches swung closed.
My semblance could bring us down. I... I can stop.
No one noticed when the first tear ran down her cheeks.
I...
The little shuttle swayed, then lifted off of the ground as they departed Mistral's upper sector.
I... I...
"Remain seated while we're airborne." The pilot yawned in the middle of his speech. "We'll be at Station West in just a few minutes."
I... I did it... oh gods.
She'd done it. She was free.
Now... she just had to avoid throwing up in nervous terror, and avoid from screaming in terrified excitement.
Gods be with me.
Please read and review, criticism is welcome, flames not so much, as usual. Reviews are my lifeblood as a writer.. every-time my email goes off with a review it makes me want to write more, so please take the time to leave one. Guests can leave them as well, and it only takes a minute, so please. Even if it's as simple as "I enjoyed it, please continue."
Thanks, Kat