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Always with you, sis”
The air rushed past her as she fell. It swept past her face, throwing her multicolored hair up in a rainbow crown above her head. The forever distracted part of her brain noted how strange it still was to move and fall without the weight of her braids. She’d never cut her own hair before today, and it hadn’t been short since… since before the first time she had killed her dad.
Now she was right back where she started. A metallic, monstrous growl came from beneath her. She was glad when she saw the diminishing form of her sister flip over the metal precipice. Good. No one deserves to watch someone they care about die.
She knew that without her holding her back, Vi would be happy. Her sister had been right about her, in a way. Powder was a jinx, and Vi would never be able to live in a world where Jinx survived.
Jinx turned, looking down towards the monster who had once been the kindest man she had ever known. Vander’s warped expression held none of the eerie familiarity with which she had grown accustomed in those blissful days where she had believed they could have a happy ending.
Even now, scratches and ghosts flickered past her vision as she felt the weight of her mistakes.
So stupid . And Isha had to pay the cost. She should have let herself sink into the river where her third father was laid to rest.
But she could make things right. As the monster's metallic claws wrapped coldly around her waist, she reached out and cupped that once familiar face. Cracked blue eyes that were once her safe haven now wept mercurial tears . A memory came to her mind, calming her anguish like the hush of a mothers voice.
She remembered the old hideout beneath the Last Drop. A single candle lit the tiny room, casting a warm glow across the table that Powder had slumped over in exhaustion. Her inventions lay scattered in front of her, she had been trying to make something that works . But hours of tinkering had only left her tired and frustrated.
The mingled snores of Vi and Milo were interrupted by the sound of careful footsteps. Dad! Powder closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. Vander could always tell when she was faking, but she tried anyway. She couldn’t stand the idea of getting another disappointed talking-to about getting enough rest.
A soft creak of a door, gentle steps, and then a solid warmth behind her. She waited for a whisper of disapproval, but instead she felt strong arms wrap around her tiny frame and lift her softly into the air. Two slow steps were enough for her to reach her bed, and she felt herself lowered onto the comfort of her bed. The faintest of whispers sounded beside her ear.
“Sleep tight, kiddo. You’ll get it tomorrow. You can do anything you set your mind to.”
She peaked her eyes open, and saw the man who had given her everything go to the candle and blow it out in a single puff. Comforting darkness wrapped around her like a blanket, and she slept, knowing she was safe.
Now it was her turn to put the two of them to rest, this time for good. She smiled at the memory. Smiled at Vander. They had both become monsters, but in death they could build something better for her sister, his daughter. Vi would be okay.
She pulled her last monkey-bomb from behind her belt, and looked at her dad. Wishing that she could tell him how grateful she was for the years that he gave her as a child, and the scant weeks they had together leading up to this moment. The pink glow of the bomb in her hands burned like a cleansing fire, its internal fuse ticking towards its final beat.
Goodnight, dad.
Something flickered in the corner of her vision. A dove? She felt the pressure drop around her, and her ears popped. What was-
Light bloomed from the bomb in her lap, and the explosion blew her from consciousness. Death really was like falling asleep.
Rainfall. Like cold tears washing down her cheek.
A steady puff of air, like the tickling breath of a sister who wouldn’t let her sleep.
Sound, like the tinkling chimes that hung from the spiced stalls of foreign merchants.
Jinx opened her eyes to a gray light and groaned in horror. Trembling hands clutched at her face, tugged at her hair, and she screwed her eyes shut again.
“No,” she moaned into the stone beneath her. “Please. Please just let me rest. PLEASE.”
Sobs wracked her aching frame. Behind her eyelids, images and flashes of light played in a terrifying cacophony. The voices began to echo from her mind. AllyourfaultnotgoodenoughJINXyouareaJINXshowthemallyoucandoanythingyouarenotmysist-
A soaring whistle wafted through the mental noise. It was a simple signal that a voiceless child had once used to say. “I’m right here.”
Jink slowly tilted her head, her face twisted in a sorrow that knew that hope would only make her hurt more. But there she was.
Isha stood at the top of a short set of stone stairs. A carved block of a table sat behind her. A swirling vortex of white mist swirled around them, casting drops of water like a soft rain. The child smiled triumphantly, and giggled with a familiar laugh that meant; “I got you this time.”
Jink shook her head. “No. No this isn’t real. You’re dead. I…I saw you die.”
The little girl shrugged, and pointed between herself and Jinx as she signed. You save me. I save you. Even.
“But I didn’t save you. You died, and it was my fault. It’s always. My. Fault.” She stumbled to her feet approaching the steps before her. The vortex still spun around her. This must be some entrance to hell, or a vision in the sputtering sparks of an exploding brain.
Isha held up her hands, her face pouting in frustration. You gave me a life. You gave me a sister. My choice was my own . I wanted to rescue you . My fault.
Pink tears flowed down Jinx’s cheeks as she took shaking steps up the stairs. “You’re just a kid, you don't know what you're talking about. I should have never involved you. You’re not to blame.”
She took a final step up the stairs, and reached a bruised hand towards the dyed blue hair. Isha smiled up at her. A chill enveloped her fingers, and Isha’s form flowed back from her touch, colors suddenly dissipating into a cloud of vapor. Jinx pulled her hand back with a gasp, the purple bruises and scabbed fingers suddenly cured.
The vapor floated backwards, resting in a pillared cloud above the stone table. The soft blues and purples solidified once again into the shape of a little girl, but this time it wasn’t Isha. Jinx stared, eyes wide at the child who now stood above her.
Powder looked down at Jinx, brows furrowed. “How bout’ me? Can you blame me for what happened?”
Jinx stammered, emotions warring within her. A tear stained, bubbling laugh escaped from her throat. “I’ve really lost it now. Literally talking to myself.” But this didn’t feel like her other visions and voices. Oddly enough, those had quieted as soon as she saw Isha.
“So?” Powder said. “You gonna answer?”
Jinx looked back to the impossible little girl, and felt long held anger well up within her. She choked out the words. “Okay fine, you want to play, let's play. Of course you’re to blame, you meddling little gremlin! If it weren’t for you… if it weren’t for you they ALL would have lived! None of this would have happened! Vi, Milo, they were right all along. You! Me… I’m nothing.. You’re nothing but a…”
She stared into the gray blue eyes of her younger self. There was fear in those eyes, but there was also strength. And a willingness to do anything to protect her family. Jinx couldn’t bring herself to say it. As much as she blamed herself, she couldn’t blame the child she was before.
Jinx collapsed in front of the altar, heaving sobs into the cold stone. All of the confusion, all the pain of the past days, months, years, they came pouring out of her. She had never meant for any of this to happen, and each step of the way she had tried to do her best to fix something. Even if sometimes that meant blowing something up.
A cold touch of air brushed against the shaved side of her head, and she looked up to see Powder sitting on the stone above her, withdrawing a small hand that trailed vapor from its fingertips. “That last monkey bomb was awesome . Wish I could build something like that.”
Jinx gave a sighing laugh. “You wish, kid. I know you, and believe me, you should not be trusted around explosives. But you’re right. The bomb worked great, I should be dead right now. I probably am dead right now.”
“Not dead.” Powder said
“How? Why?”
Powder gave her a half smile, then dissipated, just like Isha had before. This time the cloud slowly drifted backward until it was high in the air, then was pulled into the spinning wall of shimmering fog.
The spinning slowed, and shadows in the form of familiar figures danced through the clouds. Four children, leaping over rooftops, one slipping and almost hovering in the air before being caught by her sister.
Two children, playing a game and running through the street.
A lost woman, holding a billowing light of hope and reuniting with a loved one.
Two grown girls, and one small one, embracing the hulking form of a monster. Their father.
Two lost souls, standing at the edge of an abyss, one trying to talk the other down. The sound of Ekko’s voice called slowly out from the clouds.
No matter what happened in the past, it's never too late to build something new. Someone worth building it for.
Jinx stood, looking into the air past the altar as the clouds wrapped back into themselves, coalescing into the vague outline of a woman floating in the air. Without the wall of fog, Jinx finally recognized where she was.
Immediately behind the vaporous figure was a gaping black tunnel, one that she had blown open weeks ago. A massive stone relief of a mythical spirit smiled up from the ground behind the altar. Jinx looked slowly into the air, as a white dove descended from some shadowy part of the room. It soared through the air, spinning around the cloudy woman before landing smoothly on the altar before her.
Jinx’s own words that she had spoken in this very place a few months prior echoed in her mind. She had spoken so bitterly then.
Don't you remember the old Janna bedtime stories Vander used to tell us? Miners trapped, gasping for air… but then, some wispy wind woman wafts to their rescue.
“Why?” she asked. “Why save me now? Everything is ruined.”
A voice like a cool breeze filled the room, whispering past pillars worn smooth by time. The voice held only love. “All of Zaun’s children are my own. I do what I can, when I can. I wish I could have done more for you.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she rubbed her palms into the tears, blocking her vision. She didn’t deserve this. Not when so many had died, she wanted to be gone. She wanted-
“Daughter of Felicia and Connor.” The voice called, now a clarion of clear wind.
“Daughter of Vander.” A gust that blew the tears from her cheeks.
The girl who was once Powder blubbered, face hot and throat choking. She didn’t know if she could do this.
“Daughter of Silco.” A soft breeze, like a hand brushing the hair from her eyes.
“You deserved to be saved. I speak unto thee, and I promise that their love has never faded. It will always be with you.”
She cried like a baby, collapsing forward onto the altar. Finally she looked up. The vapor had further coalesced, now appearing as a semi-translucent woman that swayed in the breeze just a few feet in front of her.
“What do I do?” She croaked.
Janna extended a perfect hand towards her. “Live, dear one. Live on in their memory. Go where your heart desires, that's all they ever wanted for you. Live and find happiness knowing that there is nothing you can do to lose their love.”
The girl raised her hand slowly, reaching it out with more desperation and hope than she had ever felt. Janna’s hand was solid, firm, warm as a loved one’s embrace. She pulled the girl who was no longer Jinx to her feet.
Weeks later, a young woman stood in line at the boarding dock of a sleek airship. She wore heavy clothes, with a big jacket she had… borrowed from a friend who saved her. She was well prepared for the chill of air travel. She carried nothing but a small pack. If one looked closely, they might notice the signs of dye at the edges of her short brown hair. If they could see them, perhaps they might have recognized the candy-pink eyes of the city's biggest-fattest martyr. But Jinx was dead, and the woman's eyes were obscured by circular glasses the color of the sea.
The dock manager noted none of these things. He merely held out a lazy hand for a boarding pass, which the girl promptly handed over. He muttered through a mustache. “Isha, no family name, storage class. Go straight ahead and take the first stairs on the left. Galley serves meals at six, morning and night. You miss em’ you go hungry.” With a thump, he stamped the pass and handed it to the her with a nod.
The woman nodded back, taking slow steps up the boarding ramp and onto the airship. She ignored the mustachey man's instructions, instead walking to the point of the prow of the ship. She looked out past the docks towards the western sea.
She was still there an hour later, when the airship was released from its dock with a shuddering jolt. It quickly rose into the heavens, soaring out over the dark blue waves. Gulls circled the ship, heralding the start of a long voyage. The still recovering city began to grow small behind her, but she didn’t look back.
The wind blew past her face, and she could almost hear voices on the breeze. The booming voice of a kind man, the soothing instructions of another, and the jubilant laugh of a child who had made her own family.
For the first time that she could remember, she knew peace.