Page 28 of Emerald

Regret bubbles up, sharp and bitter. I didn't even get to say goodbye. Despite everything, the resentment I felt for her, for refusing to tell me who my father was, for keeping so many secrets, I never stopped loving her. She was a constant in my life, from birth until now, the one steady presence I could always count on, even if it was just to berate me for being weird. And now, I'll never get the chance to say goodbye. To ask her one last time who he was.

I remember being a kid, barely a preteen. My mum would let me into her locked study—no one else was allowed in, not my siblings, not even my step-dad. Just me. The room was packed with old books, their spines cracked and faded, the pages yellowed with age. I'd spend hours in there, thumbing through them, getting lost in worlds far away from our tiny apartment. It was like she wanted me to read them, to know them.

One book stands out in my memory—a well-worn sci-fi novel with a cover so faded that I could barely make out the title. It was the first one she had me read. She insisted on it. Said it was important. I can still see it clearly in my mind, the way it looked, the way it smelled like old paper and dust. Whoever owned it first had scribbled their name all over it, like they were afraid someone would steal it. Ariki.

How could I have forgotten? I'd memorized that name from seeing it so often, but it never meant anything to me. Not until now.

My mind snaps back to my mom's study, to all those books with the same name written in the corners—Ariki. And then I remember her voice, weak and delirious from the meds, calling out for anAriki. It was rare, but on some nights, when she was particularly out of it, she'd whisper it like a prayer, like she was begging someone for help. I'd thought it was just nonsense, a name plucked from the fog of her deteriorating mind.

It was him. She never forgot him, but couldn’t bother telling me who he was.

A mix of emotions churns in my chest—anger, confusion, a strange sort of hope. Would he have claimed me if he knew? I don't know if it's true, but it feels right. And maybe that's enough for now.

“Ninety-two percent,” I whisper.

A small, almost giddy smile spreads across my face. I try the name out in my head, testing the sound of it. Olivia Ariki. It has a nice ring to it. The logical part of my brain chimes in, reminding me that now might not be the best time to be thinking about surnames, not when I'm trapped in some alien cave with a creature staring me down like I'm dinner or something worse. But I ignore it. I need this. I need something to hold onto, something to keep me from losing my mind completely.

I hum a quiet, tuneless melody to myself as I lean closer to the cluster of mushrooms, soaking in their warmth. The creature shifts slightly, its intense eyes never leaving me, but it doesn't move closer. I take that as a good sign. Maybe it's waiting for something. Or maybe it's just trying to figure me out, the same way I'm trying to figure it out.

Good luck. No one ever has.

Either way, I stay where I am, humming softly, my mind spinning with new possibilities. For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel a spark of hope. I don't know what's waiting for me in these caves or what this creature plans to do with me, but I do know one thing. I'm not done yet.

Olivia Ariki. I think I like the sound of that.

And then I see it shift, my eyes narrowing as it moves away. “Where are you going? Take me back,” I say through gritted teeth.

It doesn’t respond.

"Oi! Don't turn your back on me you little shit! You don't get to dump me here and walk away!"

My kidnapper alien keeps walking, and I can almost swear that it increases its pace as my voice climbs in pitch.

"Oh, fuck you, then!"

It's gone from sight by the time I get that last bit out, but even then, I can't help the surge of vicious vindication at getting the last word out.

It'd been a long time since I hurled insults at anyone besides bugs, and now that I think about it, doing this to a potentially violent extraterrestrial probably wasn't a bright idea in the first place.

But damn did that feel good. “Piss off!” I add, although I doubt it can hear me at this point.

Perhaps yelling at a six-limbed, seven-foot-tall mass of multicolored nightmare fuel wasn't the wisest of choices, but I’m frayed beyond my usual limits at the moment and the cathartic nature of my outburst did wonders for my mood.

I probably won't be doing it again anytime soon though.

I snort. “Why not? Arsehole.”

A yawn escapes my lips as exhaustion crashes down on me like a tidal wave. My brain starts to fizzle. How long has it been since I slept?

9

Kroaicho

Thecaveiscoldand quiet, save for the distant drip of water somewhere deep in its shadows. I walk aimlessly through the twisting tunnels, each step a scrape of my claws on the stone, my mind buzzing and my skin flickering with a mix of emotions that I can't quite parse. I left the little green-haired creature back in the enclave hours ago, zhas angry voice still echoing in my head. What an infuriating thing, making such loud noises and throwing zha's hands about like that. I don't know how to deal with creatures like that. And yet…

And yet, there is this strange sensation prickling beneath my skin. It twists high in my nose, surging up every time I think of those furious green eyes glaring at me. I don't understand it. This odd… heat that makes my skin flare green despite myself.

No. Not green, I will until my skin flickers Annoyance, maybe? Yes, that makes sense and my skin lights purple in agreement. I am annoyed that zha, a small, fragile creature, has made me feel… this way.

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