Page 20 of Blinding Light

Cyprian quickly grabbed something to eat from the fridge. There was a plate full oftiganosleft. While he waited for them to heat, he looked outside the window and across the street.

There. On that corner is where he’d seen Moargan yesterday. Right after the scene in the canteen. He’d just stood there with his white cape on, in those leather pants, his blond hairtucked under the large hood, those amethyst eyes gazing right through the glass, like lasers trying to find their goal.

And then he’d left.

The microwave dinged, causing Cyprian to jump. With a full plate, he went to his room and plugged in his holo computer.

He could only stare at the screen. Now that he’d finally reached his destination, it was blank. He’d have to find new information, but for now, all he had left to do, and perhaps it was the most important part of his mission, was to go over the addresses he had illegally obtained. The list contained families who had either registered the death of a newborn in the same year as he was born or who had given up their baby for adoption.

The thought of standing face-to-face with those people was terrifying. How could one simply get rid of a child? It was a question he lived by, though the answer remained a mystery.

What he had seen though, was its result. In foster care, children were broken. They were forgotten. And though they should have stood strong together, Cyprian had always been an outsider.

The thought left him feeling raw. He needed his pencils. Needed to draw his emotions before they spilled over and made him feel like he was drowning.

Shoving the plate aside, he opened his backpack and took out his material. He loved dreaming of his biological family. Loved drawing the most beautiful house for his real parents. Alone with his charcoal fantasy, he gave them a spacious, detached house with a lovely butterfly roof. He even gave himself a bedroom.

Charcoal left its first marks on the paper.

His father, mother, and himself. Perhaps even a sibling or two.Who knew?On canvas, I would live happily ever after.

Soon, he’d meet his biological parents. Of that, he was certain.

The data chip stared at him from his desk as if silently challenging him.

“When I’m ready,” he whispered, inhaling deeply. “Until then, you’ve got to be patient with me.” He crawled down to tuck the data chip under his mattress in the furthest corner.

A commotion outside made Cyprian peak through the window. That same spot across the street was filled with what appeared to be guards. Cyprian drew back the curtain, relieved to be inside his room, safely behind walls and in his own mind.

He moved back to his canvas. He loved the interplay between light and shadow, between black and white.

There was a sudden knock on the door, followed by a shout that made Cyprian jump.

“Helion Luminary, open the door.”

Cyprian rushed back to the window, peering down to where the guards had stood before. The corner was now empty. He sent a quick message to Archer from his multi-slate, asking him if random security patrols were a thing on Helion. It didn’t matter. His roommate wasn’t here, and they were.

The Luminary, as Enzo had explained in the canteen. Private guards to the Imperials.

Cyprian’s heart rate picked up.

“Open the door.” There was more pounding on the door.

“I’m coming!” They were on the third floor. There was no way he could jump out of the building without hurting himself. That would make him look more suspicious.

The front door creaked when Cyprian slowly pulled it open, eyes widening at the guy who stood in front of him. Unlike the two guards behind him, who carried rifles and a stoic gaze, his visitor looked like he was Cyprian’s age, wearing a black suit with a golden broach.

“Hello there. You must be Xander Devers.” His smile widened when Cyprian licked his dry lips nervously.

“Yes?”

“Good. May I come in?” He pushed past Cyprian without waiting for an answer and let out a hum of approval when he took in the apartment. “Very nice. I’ll take it.” He swung around with another grin.

“Uhm, this apartment isn’t for sale. I’m not even the owner. I just live here, the owner isn’t here, mister?—”

“Zeal. But you can call me Yure. You also attend the Helion Academy, right?”

“Right.” Cyprian swallowed. For a minute, they just watched each other. Then he snapped himself out of it. “As I said, the apartment isn’t for sale. I’ll let the owner, Archer Lyre, know that you are interested in purchasing his apartment. Perhaps he can, he can?—”

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