Fowlhunter [GL]

When Pelia received the signal, she slipped into the control room of the speaker systems.

Emerald eyes slid over the blinking panels, full of buttons and levers. It was an archaic design, but still functional technology. Pelia stretched into the depths of her rusty memory to figure out the buttons she needed. To make an announcement for an emergency evacuation drill.

By now, it was morning time, so the regular miners would be on their way into work right about now. They could have just let one of the alarms on the Soleki grates the rest were breaking sound off, which would trigger an automatic alarm announcement. The relevant guards would then be informed that there was a genuine leak in the Soleki grates. However, that would mean that administration would rush to have it sealed. They would even prioritise it over the evacuation of the personnel.

Therefore, Pelia was in charge of organising an evacuation drill.

A warmth pulsed in the back of her mind, regularly delivering her cues as to when to take which action. It was the Soleki communication charm Pelia had established earlier with the angel commander known as Ennanis Zoleil.

Pelia recalled the moment that she had suggested making the commication link. Before she had done it, Ennanis had asked her, “Do you trust me enough for that?”

Pelia had raised her brows. “What? Of course I don’t trust you. I don’t trust that gold-haired girl either. We barely know each other as it is.” Then she had paused, before continuing, “That being said… I believe you two won’t do any harm.”

“Good enough,” Ennanis had said, then reached out to prick her with the end of an immaterial, golden needle. It was thus that through the thread of invisible light they could communicate, as long as she was within Ennanis’ range.

It was bizarre that the angel had even asked. Accepting a communication charm was like giving your housephone number to someone. Perhaps it was classified under personal information, but it was nothing that carried as much emotional weight as trust. Yet Ennanis seemed to ask her this question seriously. Pelia wondered at it as she thumbed at the controls. She supposed that being joined through mind and voice, being able to find the other without direct sight or sound, could be considered intimate from a certain point of view.

Thinking this, she fired up another communication link she had.

“...Capri?” she said uncertainly. In a blink of shining gold light, she saw her somewhere above, probably outside of the mountain aboveground.

Yes, Pelia? Her classmate answered.

Pelia wavered. She cleared her throat. “Um. How are you? Is your wound okay?”

You mean the bullet wound? Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t feel a thing. The angel healed it really well. My dad still made me get some bedrest though.

“Does he know?”

Eh. I couldn’t hide the scorched hole in my clothes. I just said it was a mining accident. A pause. Are you helping Ennanis like I asked you to?

“On it,” Pelia muttered.

Oh- Capri sounded surprised. Really?

“Don’t push it,” Pelia groused. “You have no idea how much risk I’m taking here. I’m literally about to blow up my family’s mines from under our feet.”

What?

“Quit worrying, I’m just exaggerating,” Pelia sighed, but pondered: was she really? She hadn’t thought about it, but when she did, she realised she was placing an undue amount of trust in the angel and her gold-haired woman. The two had that kind of effect on people… made others want to trust them. But Pelia was in too deep now to back out. So… “You just sit tight. It’s not every day I’m the one doing your bidding, after all.”

I- well- thank you, Pelia. It means a lot. Capri said in her ear. Did you need my help? Why did you call me?

Pelia gulped. She hadn’t been planning on saying things like this, but the plan right now hung in a very delicate balance, and if things went awry, this could’ve very well been the last time she would get to say it.

“I guess I just wanted to hear you,” she mumbled.

…Ah.

“But,” she checked the time blinking on one of the consoles, “I have to go now. See you on the other side.” Before the other could reply she mentally reached back and snapped the thread, terminating the connection with Capri. She didn’t want her to respond; it would’ve sounded too much like a goodbye. Which this wasn’t.

She then proceeded to make the announcement. Memories floated up in her mind as her hands wandered over the buttons. While outside, Pelia often flaunted her wealth and flouted public rules because she could. But in front of her father she could not do such things. Many times she had followed after her dad into this control room, complaining and prattling aimlessly as she watched him make announcements over the intercom. Never had she been trusted to take charge of any real tasks.

Thus, Pelia carried out the task in front of her with a certain relish. That for once she was doing something for herself. Maybe this would be the first time in her pathetic life that she did something right. Something good.

She finished her announcement, the last few words crackling over the speakers. Next she peeked at the monitor screen adjacent. Some security cameras weren’t working, the screens fuzzed and glitching out. But certain others were still functional. through the cameras that were working, Pelia saw them looking around in confusion. Then, some of them started to move, ushered along by guards. Leaning back in her chair, she breathed out a sigh, relief soaking into her bones. But there was no time to waste. She had to get out too.

Standing up, she removed the barricade she’d placed at the door. She pushed the button beside and the door slid open.

Only for her to come face-to-face with none other than her father, flanked by four guards.

…Huh?

“My dear Lia,” Ahi Vesuvio said, his broad face impassive. “What might you be doing here?”

Pelia jerked, her hands scrambling. But there was nothing for her to cover. She could only stand there shell-shocked, her heart palpitating as she watched her father stalk past her. The guards remained outside the doorway, the cattleprods dangling from the belts metal clanking menacingly as they stood.

Her father shook his head gravely as he stared at the security screens, and the children and guards, having gotten over their confusion, filing through the tunnels in orderly fashion. “You’ve always been rebellious, but I didn’t think you would stoop to doing something so foolish. I always knew that girl was a bad influence on you.”

Pelia was silent, trying to figure out what exactly her father knew and what he didn’t.

“I just wanted to help,” she said pompously, “What’s wrong with that?”

Her father clacked his tongue, letting out a half-bemused, half-irritated chuckle. “Are you daft? This month’s drill has already been done. The next evacuation drill isn’t due until next twenty-fifth. Surely it isn’t that hard to read a schedule.”

So he thought that she had been trying to take charge of things for fun again. Pelia had made a name for herself wrecking things, whether intentionally or unintentionally.

“Never mind,” her father sighed, seeming to accept it. stepped past her and picked up the intercom. “I’ll just have to rectify your mistakes.”

“Stop!” Pelia yelled out. When the attention was on her, she confessed, “This, this isn’t a drill. The mines are going to blow for real!”

“Don’t be silly, girl,” began one of the guards, but just then, alarms erupted around them. A symphony of blaring screams echoed through the hallways—the alarms designated for grate leaks.

Her father turned slowly towards her.

“How did you know that?” he asked. “Did you plan this?”

Pelia gulped nervously.

“Ahh,” her father stroked his chin. “Could that be why my guards sensed your presence moving so much back and forth in the amethyne mining level recently? Could you be…” his gaze sharpened, “working with the resistance, by any chance? Are you? Are you working with the dust, Pelia?”

“No, I didn’t!” she said firmly.

“Then how did you know that this explosion was going to happen?”

Pelia didn’t know what to say. Her mind was trying to conjure some sort of excuse, but she couldn’t think of anything. It was a hole that would only be dug deeper and deeper.

In the moment of hesitation, her father pointed at her and told the guards, “Restrain her.”

The guards hefted each of her arms. Pelia struggled, trying to hit them with Soleki beams, but her magic wasn’t powerful enough, and they pinged off their armour uselessly. Of course, neither was she physically strong enough to throw them off. She had never been a talented student.

Her father strode towards the intercom again, his expression grave. He picked it up and dialled the panel. “I will call off the evacuation. The dust can clean up after their own mess.”

Pelia panicked. “Don’t do that! They’ll die, father.”

“Maybe they should have thought about that before resorting to such reckless acts.” Her father clicked off the intercom and turned towards her. “As for you, young lady, you also have a thing or two to learn about accountability. I hereby disown you from the Vesuvio family.”

Her jaw dropped. “What? What do you mean…”

“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” he shrugged. His eyes under his red-cropped hair betrayed no emotion at letting his only daughter go. “You have betrayed our family. You are no longer a Vesuvio. Also, that girl of yours—Capri—I’ll have her banned from working in any Vesuvio company as well. Which is… hah… most of them, isn’t it?”

Pelia breathed heavily. Her eyes were watering, her ears ringing. This couldn’t be real. Her father loved her. Her father prized her. She’d always been so precious to him; she was his jewel. She’d gotten away with so much. He wouldn’t have dared done such a thing to her. Yet, he’d just did.

“Upset? Don’t be. You chose to follow her instead of me, didn’t you? You chose this.”