Fowlhunter [GL]

Capri watched the pink-haired angel disappear into the depths of the bunker. It was only then that her breathing eased; slow and rattling through her ventilator. She slumped her weary body against the rock pillar she hid herself behind, closing her eyes and covering her face. She stayed just like that for a long while, soaking up the volcanic heat that permeated the rock and the crumbly ground below her, like how a child might stick their head in an oven on a cold day.

She shivered.

“Alright, own up now,” a high voice cut through the crackling of the embers. “What are you really after here?”

Capri uncovered her eyes. Still crouched behind the rock, she looked up to see none other than Pelia, standing over her. The elite girl had hands on her hips, emerald gaze narrowed.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Pelia,” Capri said innocuously.

Pelia merely huffed as she reached out a hand and pulled Capri to her feet. Neither of them wore gloves. Capri could distinctly feel how dry and cracked her skin was against Pelia’s petal-smooth palm. Her back, normally drenched in the perpetual perspiration that came with living in humid inner Kanch, was now simply sticky and clung to her vest; all the moisture evaporated from being in such close proximity to the Agni.

The Agni; the holy spirits of fire that dwelled in the heart of the Kancha mountains. They were more widely known as ‘lava’. There was something calming about being in the presence of something that could be so destructive, yet so beautiful. The warmth emanating from the pools, and the underground channels that led to them, was a sensation akin to being gently cradled, a baby born in a hearth.

“Where’s your dad?” Capri asked.

“Off with that angel. He wants me to do the weird prayer things first, and he’ll join me later,” Pelia said heedlessly.

Capri frowned. “Don’t be disrespectful.”

“Hm? Oh, I forgot that you actually believe in the Agni,” Pelia rolled her eyes. “But never mind that. What are you doing with that angel? Is that why you asked me so many questions about the mines?”

“Mm-hm!” Capri nodded. “She seemed really interested in the amethyne mining level, so I helped to take her down here.”

“But why?”

“Out of the goodness of my heart?”

Pelia gave her a flat look.

Capri exhaled, sobering. “It’s for my brother.”

Pelia was silent. Capri knew what her classmate was thinking without having to ask. Pelia Vesuvio, born the sole heir to the Vesuvio conglomerate, the sunblooded jewel. Pelia constantly bragged about her prestigious lineage, but Capri knew that she didn’t have much of a relationship with her business-obsessed father; and she had never known her mother, an angel that her father hadn’t seen more than once. Like many noble children, she had not been born from love, only from Ahi’s desire to have a sunblood child.

For someone so proud of her lineage, Pelia was not one who knew what ‘family’ entailed beyond a name.

“Does your father know I’m here?” Capri asked.

“He knows everything,” Pelia said.

“And he…?”

“He doesn’t care,” Pelia turned away. “Will you come watch the fire spirits with me?”

“I thought you didn’t believe in them.”

“But would you?” Pelia said.

“You’re really giving me a choice?”

Pelia didn’t respond.

“I’ll follow wherever you go, ‘Lia,” Capri said lightly. “My head is full of noise lately; I guess I could use the breather.” Then she cupped her ventilator back around her mouth and nose, and followed in Pelia’s retreating footsteps.

~~~

The bunker was made of metal on the inside just as it was on the outside. Curious, Ennanis reached out to touch the walls. One would’ve expected such an excellent heat-conducting material to be scalding to the touch in a place like this, but the surface was merely half-warm.

“Fascinating, isn’t it,” Vesuvio said from beside her. “That’s luminarial steel. It’s much like the luminarial gold your angel weapons are made out of, but with less cutting power and more of the durability. It’s the same principle that keeps the weapons from burning up when you charge Soleki through them. On the outside of this bunker, the shiny surface reflects the heat away, keeping the inside of the bunker relatively cool. There’s a several-inches-thick layer of insulating alloy sandwiched between the steel outside and the steel inside.”

“To think that it could keep out such glaring heat,” Ennanis said. She was indeed awed. “Outside the bunker, the heat on this level felt like it could rival the sun itself. Human technology has truly come far.”

“To build this was costly, but we are far from inhumane, Miss Zoleil,” he said with a smile. “We only have the best interests of our workers in mind. And only the best.”

Ennanis’ footsteps slowed. They had come across a series of doors, lining both sides of the corridor.

Without asking, she reached out and opened the door to her right. It was unlocked, swinging open easily.

Gentle breaths, filling and depleting shallow lungs. It was dark, save for the red sheath of light that filtered through a rectangular vent near the top. Bodies were turned over on the tops and bottoms of short bunk beds, enfolded in thin sheets, sound asleep. When Ennanis entered the room, her eyes adjusting to the dimness, she saw boxes next to every bunk. Squatting down to sort through them, she found that they were filled with handheld drills, pickaxes, torches, and other mining equipment. Another box beside was filled with fluorescent vests and hardhats. Compared to the ones Capri and Ennanis used, though, they were smaller and lighter in weight, clearly meant for shorter, smaller workers with less developed muscles.

“It’s against the law for children to work in mining,” Ennanis said as she emerged from the room.

Vesuvio looked at her, nonplussed. “I believe you are mistaken, miss. These children are not working.”

Ennanis’ eyes narrowed. “Stirring your words around won’t make a different soup, director. My sources inform me that these children mine amethyne in alarmingly close proximity to the lava pools.”

“Did Capri tell you that?” Vesuvio sighed. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have kept her around if my daughter didn’t like her so much.”

“...I have heard from varying sources,” Ennanis said, even as her mind scrambled to comprehend this new information. Vesuvio knew about Capri…? “If true, this is unsafe and unethical practice, and can get your mines shut down if you don’t comply with standard workplace regulations.”

Vesuvio’s eyes sparkled with something like mirth. Ennanis frowned further.

“Are you perhaps new here?” he wondered aloud. “Impossible; you’re a commander, though. How curious, indeed, that you don’t know…” He turned his thoughtful gaze on her. “In any case, you are making hasty accusations. I do pardon you for your assumptions, though, rude and hurtful as they may be.” He put a hand up to his heart, below his ironed blousepocket.

“You have cameras around the place,” Ennanis said. “The footage will be proof enough, if it is truly as you say.”

“No need for footage,” the man waved his hand. “You are welcome to stay and watch over the dust for as long as you like. They will be quite happy to have some company like you. Angels are always a welcome sight, after all.”

~~~

Together, Capri and Pelia went to the prayer pools.

At the prayer pools, there was a dip in the centre of each circular grate, like if someone had taken a spoon to it and scooped out a dish like pudding. The dip brought the person sitting in it closer to the surface of the Agni, the glass just skimming it. The circles of the grates were all connected, and forming the patterns of flowers with their intersecting lines.

Pelia picked one and sat in it gingerly, adjusting the ruffles of her pinafore. Capri plopped down in the one beside, crossing her legs.

“Ahh,” Capri sighed, rubbing the sides of her face’s ventilator. “It’s been a long time since I could do this.”

There were many such prayer pools around Kanch, wherever Agni bubbled to the surface and was captured in its magnificence by human-laid grates. But this place, it was the closest to the source of the real thing. The experience was very precious, transcendent, available to very few and very rarely.

“It feels like my butt is on fire,” Pelia said, distaste clear.

“We’re all from Kanch,” Capri yawned. “You can handle a little heat.”

“Well, you’re from Kanch, but your lungs can’t handle a little smoke.”

Capri gasped, clapping her hand over her ventilator. “Hahahaaaaah!—how right!”

Pelia shifted, a flicker of discomfort rippling her features. Capri didn’t seem to care.

“Did you enjoy your time in Wataron?” Capri spoke again, when she regained her breath. “The other students on the exchange programme made it sound like a lot of fun.”

“Greatly,” Pelia answered. “The weather I wasn’t used to; it was windy and cold, even with my best coats. Jadestone is an enchanting place to be in. The Royal Palace has astounding architecture, with a lot of historical and cultural significance behind it. We each got a personal tutor for Soleki classes and I learnt to refine my technique. It was interesting to learn about Soleki from a different perspective than the teachers at our college-”

“-Hey,” Capri interrupted. “I didn’t write your application essay and give up my own position just for you to toss a scripted answer at my face.”

“...I skipped every class and went shopping and coffee-hopping all day.”

Capri traced the scalding-hot grate below her workpants. “At least you had fun.”

“......” Pelia continued to look uncomfortable. The silence seemed to unsettle her enough for her to ask a fumbling question back, “What about you?”

“What do you think?” Capri turned to hiss at her.

Pelia stared back.

“Why did you dismiss him from the company?” she whispered. “You knew he’s my dad; that’s why you did it. Do you exist to bring my life agony?”

“I have always brought you agony,” Pelia responded.

That was true. It was just as Capri had told the angel Ennanis earlier; she was particularly close with Pelia Vesuvio. She had known Pelia for a long time because they had grown up together. But not because they were the best of friends. It was because she was her bully in every sense of the stereotype, and Capri her favourite target. Even as a child barely a metre high, peachy-red hair tied in baubled twintails on the schoolyard, Pelia had had power—and exercised it. Capri, a meek and kind-hearted girl with humble upbringing, couldn’t have refused her without consequences. In school, Capri did her assignments for her. Capri helped her cheat in tests. When she got caught, it was Capri who took the fall. She fetched her lunch from the school store for her. When the weather was warm—which was every day—Capri fanned her with a textbook until she thought her arms would fall off.

“Every time—” Capri inhaled through her nostrils. “Every time I think you’re maybe, getting better, you just do this again. Why?”

“To see if you’d still stay,” Pelia said.

Of course Capri stayed. She couldn’t not. She’d always needed Pelia as much as Pelia needed her. The daughter of Vesuvio made no genuine friends. She only had a pack of henchmen, lapdogs who only stayed by her because of the strings she pulled. Capri was the only one ever fool enough to think that she could teach such a person kindness. They were all people born of Kanch, under the blessing of the Agni. Humans are born kind. Somehow, some little part of her still believed in it. It was ironic, and it was hilarious.

With a click, Capri removed her ventilator. It dropped around her shoulders, and she took a shaky, deep breath of the air. It was acrid in her nostrils, but to her buzzing nerves it was as calming as incense. Pelia stared at her.

“My body can’t even stand being near the Agni, that I love so dearly,” Capri coughed. “While you’re completely fine; you don’t believe in anything at all, and yet the spirits bless you with everything a person could want. What more do you want? What do you want from me? Seriously?”

“I deserve to have everything I have,” said Pelia curtly.

“Of course,” Capri nodded. “You must have been very good in your past life, to deserve this.”

The red shadows of the Agni cast over Pelia, who had curled herself on her knees, flickering over her fire-coloured hair. She was born to be a Queen of this kingdom, that was sure. Capri, on the other hand, was coal and dust, meant to be ground under the wheels of a train. But if she tried hard enough, prayed hard enough, she too could rise. If not in this life, then the next one.

“You’ll continue to help me with my brother,” Capri said, wiping a tear from her eye. Pelia would not help her out of kindness, but she helped her out of guilt. “And I’ll be free of you soon.”

Pelia raised her brow. “What do you mean by that?”

Capri didn’t reply her. She merely cocked her head aside… as if listening.