AN- For some reason some of you got it into your cute heads that the story was over about 8 chapters ago. I hate to break it to you, but this monstrosity goes on for another 2 or 3 chapters.


Chapter Sixteen


Frost woke with a gasp and groaned. The alarm clock beside her bed said it was three AM, and she glared at it angrily, though it hadn't woken her. She hadn't had a full night's sleep in weeks.

The covers were in a tangle on the end of the bed, she figured she must have kicked them off while she was dreaming. Normally she woke and found she had yanked off her comforter, but it wasn't usually so violently. Even with her thermostat set to what one friend described as "meat freezer" she was always too warm in the night.

The carpeting muffled her footsteps as she padded quietly to the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face. The mirror above the sink reflected a haggard looking young woman with a shock of white hair sticking up at strange angles. It had grown longer since she had returned from the Outworld, falling into a more ladylike bob rather than the spiky style she wore when fighting.

It was the dark circles under her eyes that were bothering her the most. The less sleep she got the uglier they became, making her look older than her years. She knew they were bad when her mother asked her pointedly if she was taking any illegal substances.

Everyone seemed worried about her, friends and family alike. But the more they asked about her the less she wanted to talk about it. They didn't realize they were opening old wounds, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

The clock read three-fifteen when she dragged herself from the bathroom. She was supposed to be at work in four hours. Not having the heart to finish her studies just yet, she'd gotten a job as a substitute to keep from being kicked out of her apartment. Landlords tended to get grumpy if you didn't pay your rent, as she found from experience.

The kids probably thought she was some kind of addict. She was always getting distracted, forgetting names, confusing her schedule. At least she was only teaching Physical Education, a little confusion never ruined a gym class.

At least life was routine. There were no surprise attacks by rivals, no strange journeys, no deadly threats to Earth. Just going to work, coming home, eating ramen noodles, waking up in the middle of the night and watching infomercials until she had to work again.

She did think she'd found the secret to why the infomercials worked. If you were up in the early morning, watching infomercials, chances are you weren't happy with your life. You wanted something new, something different, something improved. Maybe a new set of ginsu knives would be fulfilling. At least you could use them to slit your wrists more cleanly.

The TV was calling to her silently. It looked so inviting, reflecting the view out the window on its screen, beckoning her to the comfortable sofa to rot her brain away with consumerism. You didn't have to think about anything while watching television; it did all the complex cognition for you.

But a closer look at the TV screen revealed it was snowing outside, and she wandered over to the tiny window to check. Thick iron bars, some sort of safety precaution, blocked the window supposedly, but she could just see out of it. It wasn't the dinky kind of flurry snow; it was the big wet kind that stuck to your eyelashes. The kind kids pray for the moment they see the first flakes. The kind that got school cancelled.

There was an inch or two on the rooftop next door already, and the plows wouldn't come around for at least two hours. That was plenty of time to let the lower layers freeze into a slick coating of slush. It looked like she and her students would be getting an unscheduled three-day weekend.

She lay down on the overstuffed couch to watch the Weather Channel and wait for the call that would tell her not to bother coming in to work. As a substitute she was far down on the snow list, but the telephone should still ring before six AM.

Only two and a half hours to waste.

The television was telling her that a cold front was sweeping through the Northeastern United States. Fifth grade meteorology told her that the Great Lakes would prevent most of the snow from reaching her, but they would still probably get a few inches of the stuff. Just enough to make her have to dig out the hand-me-down hunk of rusty metal she called her car if the bus companies decided they could get the kids to school after all.

She'd thought that when she left the Lin Kuei that she'd left a lot of her worries behind. Instead, she found herself worrying about lots of trivial things to make up for the fact she no longer worried about saving the Universe. Somehow worrying about her leaky toilet and whether or not the milk was okay to drink a few days after the sell by date just wasn't as satisfying.

Maybe the grass hadn't been greener on the other side.

The television was talking to her, telling her how to clear up her acne, how to cut through a hammer with a special kitchen knife, telling her that she could have the body she always wanted in eight weeks and all the money she'd ever dreamed of making if she would just give them her credit card number.

If only you could readily buy away your problems and make everything better.

She switched off the television in disgust. She didn't feel like being preyed upon this morning.

Her stomach was growling, but it felt like too much of an effort to crawl off of the couch and drag herself to the almost empty fridge. She knew the only things in there were a container of cold lo mein, a half drunk Mountain Dew, and a jar of mustard, none of which she wanted. No one was going to be delivering this early either.

Then she remembered the pint of Chubby Hubby in the freezer. It was her emergency PMS stash, but she could always replace it. Ben and Jerry's was worth getting off her lazy ass for.

She grabbed the heavy envelope that had arrived that morning as she passed the mail pile on the counter. The careful handwriting was recognizable immediately, even if there was no return address. She wasn't sure how Min had managed to get the letter in the mail though; he was still in the village researching the cataclysm of the tribe. It must have been sent with a messenger to Earthrealm.

He had written her more of a novella than a letter; the weight was just from the paper alone. Admittedly he had an awful lot to say; he'd finally cracked the older, formal script and was working on the inscription in the Traitor's Hall. Even his writing sounded excited.

From what he could gather, there had been some sort of civil war that had split the tribe. The tribe that remained were the former dredges of society who had rebelled and taken over when the aristocracy was off defending the village against an Outworld menace. The village wasn't always so secluded after all.

Min seemed to be happy. Apparently he'd been appointed some sort of official historian for the tribe after they'd learned what he'd done to save the realms. It wasn't the most honorable position in the world, but he wasn't living in a hovel anymore, and he actually got to eat something besides moss. She still owed him a food tour though; maybe she could convince him to visit once he finished transcribing the epitaphs on the warriors' tombs.

There was also a bit of news she had never expected. LiXue was getting married. The groom was to be her weapons instructor, an unlikely match for a woman of such high status, especially when the man in question was almost sixty. Wei wasn't too happy with the match, according to Min, but the deal had been that if LiXue took Frost to Earthrealm, she could marry whomever she wanted. Either her father hadn't expected her to return or he at least figured she'd choose someone else. But Min said LiXue looked a lot happier and spent a lot less time prowling the barracks now that the cat was out of the bag. She'd even invited the two of them to the wedding.

It was a tempting invitation, but not one she was sure she could accept. As much as she would love to see Min again, the trip to the village would take a week each way, even now that they knew the way. Outworld still wasn't a safe place to travel either, while the Tarkata were suppressed, there were rumors of Shao Kahn's return. Two and a half weeks of vacation time was a hard thing to get, even during the holiday season. Then again, the nice part about being a substitute is that she could always refuse to work.

Gaining access to a portal was also a bit of a challenge. The Lin Kuei had enough clout with Raiden to request a portal if needed, but she doubted if anyone would open one for her. If she was really desperate then she might be able to beg Kenshi to ask about an Outworld portal for her through the Outworld Investigation Agency, but that was a last resort. He had mentioned that they had finally fixed their portal generator, but they were less keen on sending out their agents after nearly losing two of their best. Then again, maybe Kenshi had been invited to the wedding, too. Who knew?

The phone startled her, breaking through her thoughts like an alarm. It looked like she'd have the rest of the day to decide on her plans.