Zain was lean and long-limbed at sixteen, his body stretched thin by constant space travel and years that had demanded more of him than they should have. He skin had the slightly sun-kissed hue of his father, dulled by recycled air and cold; his face was narrow and sharp. His dark hair fell in loose, uneven waves and curls. He had his mother's eyes, green by nature, with a faint glow of an implanted lens.
He wore a long, thick jacket of dark synthetic polymer that fell to his ankles. It split open at the front and hung heavy from his shoulders. A normal person would have struggled with the weight, but not Zain. An old exoskeletal frame braced his spine, legs, and most other joints, plainly visible along his thighs and calves, but hidden underneath his clothes on his upper body.
Most people needed support like this on planets with gravity above 0.8 SG (standard gravity) after long stretches in space. Ordinary people relied on extensive bone-growth serums and physical therapy. At the same time, suits like these were reserved for military use, for quick, efficient deployment, or for the affluent who could afford them.
Zain stepped up to where the little girl and the new boy lay. He squatted in front of the boy, observing him.
"Maya, he's badly bruised. We need to make sure that whoever did this to him isn't still chasing him."
Maya came and stood over him, looking down from above Zain's shoulders. She had light coffee-colored skin and dark brown eyes; her curly hair was tightly braided into rows.
"Not we. You. That's why you're babysitting. We can't afford to waste time; the rest of us will continue to the main building. And if he were being chased, the others would have alerted us. They found this one and led him here as well," Maya said matter-of-factly.
Zain turned and stared right at her. "Or we can leave them here, and you let me be part of the actual mission. It would help to have another helping hand in the temple."
Maya's gaze softened. "True, true. If it were anyone else, maybe. But you? You're just terrible. Besides, the Imam already gave you your duties, or have you forgotten?" she said with a wide grin. Maya wore one of the deceased knights' uniforms: black tactical armor and a red poncho.
"Yeah, right… and no, I haven't. I'd rather stick with you; someone has to save you from your suicidal self."
As Maya lifted the hood onto her head, she ran her hand through his hair haphazardly. "Hah! And you say you don't love me. Be careful, little man. If this fails, you know what to do."
Zain slapped her hand away in mild annoyance. "Come back alive, aapi," he whispered.
Maya turned away and soon stepped out of the shed into the rainy night, leaving Zain alone with the sleeping pair.
Zain heaved a sigh. "Well, better get you both out of sight."
He tried to be gentle, but there was little he could do while dragging the unconscious kids. He had given the pacifiers to the little girl, so he knew she wouldn't wake anytime soon, but he hoped the movement would at least rouse the boy. He remained asleep as well.
'Should get on with treating both of their wounds,'
Zain pulled a kit out of his jacket and set it up on the ground. He started by applying a basic ointment to the boy's face, where the worst acidic burns were, and then gently removed the red robes he had been wearing. The boy had massive swelling in his abdomen and forearms. The burns from rain exposure were still minimal, at least compared to the girl's arms.
Zain applied bandages with anti-inflammatory paste to the boy, then did the same for the girl, whom they had left half-treated on hearing of the boy's arrival. He leaned over a shelf, hoping the storm outside would mask the noise he made, using it as cover from prying eyes to set up a fire, dragging both kids in front of it for warmth.
He force-fed the boy some painkillers and other pills he had learned about in basic training before covering him in the cloaks and ponchos of some of the dead knights; they wouldn't need them anymore, after all.
When he was done, all he could do now was wait. He positioned himself so he could see both the door and the sleeping pair and started meditating.
He steeled his nerves. Meditating was never for relaxation. For him, it was a thorough contemplation of a concept that was foreign, vague, and utterly ridiculous. Its importance, though, was immense, as it held the key to countering the Empire's all-consuming living flame.
This was his training, the path he had been tasked with following by his superiors. He was training to grasp the essence of his soul. This was why he was left out of the most dangerous missions. He chose the concepts of "purpose" and "death" today and started meditating on them. He repeated them over and over, going over his own understanding of them unceasingly as he awaited word from Maya and the others, or for one of the two he was watching over to wake.
He imagined his own life, then he imagined his death. He thought of his mission, of the struggle of his companions. He thought of the deaths of his loved ones, and he thought about his mother. He focused his emotions, then let them run wild. He wanted to use the idea, to will his other self to move, to twist to show the slightest movement, to let him know it existed, and that he wasn't chasing a fairytale. It was incredibly frustrating.
It was around the 756th repetition that he sensed movement. It came from the sleeping pair. It seemed the boosters he had given the boy had kicked in, and he was waking up.
'Remember negotiation 101…' As Zain thought his approach through, the boy had already woken up and was staring directly at him.
"Don't even…" Zain didn't get to finish his before the boy was already running at him, carrying a makeshift weapon, some metal rod.
'Huh! Where did he get that?'
The boy threw the rod at him. Zain blocked it with his arm. He knew this was a distraction; the boy was smart. He had no time now to reach for his own weapon before the boy could cover the distance, so he planted his feet instead. He was weak against this planet's gravity, but he had a powerful exoskeleton to help him.
The boy crashed into him with quite some force, but it was like hitting an unmovable object, and he recoiled in confusion. Zain swiped at his legs and instantly grabbed his arm, forcing him to the ground with it pinned behind his back. In the same motion, he covered his mouth as well.
"Easy! Easy!" he whispered hoarsely.
"Don't make me undo the work I did to treat you," Zain said.
He thought to himself, 'This needs a new approach,' before addressing the boy again. "Is this how you thank me for saving the life of that little girl?"
The boy stopped struggling underneath Zain.
"Now I need you to behave. And wear some clothes, please. I didn't treat your wounds for you to get sick instead. My name is Xander. Nod if you understand."
The boy gave a curt nod.
Zain released his grip and got off the boy's back. He slowly stood up, breathing hard.
"Ash, cough, sorry about that, cough. Not a lot of kind-hearted folks to be found here, especially people not wearing temple attire. Are you from some branch I don't know or are you with the sovereigns?" Ash said, eyeing Zain up and down.
'This guy… he's still analyzing me for openings,' Zain thought. He was almost impressed by Ash's tenacity.
"Neither," Zain replied simply.
"Then what are you doing here?" Ash asked, his wariness giving way to confusion and curiosity.
"Just sightseeing, trying to tear the temples down, stopping a sovereign or two," Zain said, smiling now, fishing for Ash's reaction, analyzing him.
"You're crazy," Ash replied. He seemed to be even more on guard now and warily looking at Zain.
His eyes darted around to where the girl lay asleep and to the only door out of the shed.
"Maybe… but at this moment, Ash, I am as lucid as I can be, so don't even think of trying to run. You wouldn't get far if you were alone, but I see you care for that little one too much to try it, and no matter what you do, you won't be able to get her away from me." Zain paused, trying to make his tone gentler, but the tense standoff between the two prevented it.
"I would really like to know how a servant of the living flame and a slave child are so close that one risks her life begging the Knights to help the other, and the other crawls half dead to desperately search for her in a storm."
"She isn't a slave!" Ash replied with scathing ferocity, suggesting he would try hitting Zain again.
'Maybe he could be an ally after all,' Zain thought.
"How… how did you convince the Knights to leave her with you?" Ash asked.
"Uh, yeah, we had to kill them, which was easier to do because they were distracted," Zain replied, and for the first time since Ash had woken up, Zain saw true fear on the boy's face.
Footnotes:
Aapi: an endearing term for an elder sister
Imaam: a leader, a Great teacher, a pillar of the community among the rebellion.