The dimmed lights loomed over them like a kind of shroud, a few flies swarming the torch placed in the corner of the room. The wooden planks that made up the walls filtered into the grassy, overly dense vegetation surrounding them; an endless sea of green broken up by metal glinting.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” The quartermaster said, staring down at the two girls in front of him. The widened eyes and his contracted irises only added to the conversely angry look on Shirin’s face; Rie standing there, quietly trembling.

“What’s the matter, motherfucker, ain’t seen an Akari before?”

“Naw. Just hopin’ they wouldn’t assign more of them to my fuckin’ division of all places.” He groused. “I ain’t passing it shit.”

“She’s my sister.”

“It used to be what washed my bum.” He chuckled, nonchalantly reaching down into the small cabinet inside the tight shelves of broken swords and spears; his long ears wiggling about, large as they were. Rie clutched her chest, both sisters wearing the same drab blue polo uniforms with shirt pockets and outward light chainmail plating, before Shirin opened her mouth.

“We’re taking auxiliary, so… if you would, two daggers and bows, please.” Rie’s voice, not Shirin’s voice; Shirin glanced over so very briefly at her sister for a moment. Both of them were roughly the same height, if one looked at it properly; the difference possibly five or six centimetres at most. Perhaps it had been her hesitance to assert all along that gave the illusion of shortness.

The left end of Shirin’s face was partially covered with a large bandage, but mostly covered in a flat brown plaster taped down on her skin with plant-based glue; the red streaks emerging regardless moving ever so slightly as she said, “Yeah.”

“The hell? I’m taking orders from a slave now?” The quartermaster turned around and stamped on the table. “Now, gotta say to you, lady, bless that hideous thing on your face, but if you think I’m listenin’ to a blackie you are out of your mi-”

“Two daggers. Two bows. Now.” Shirin cut him off, glaring at him. “I didn’t join this group just to see her get insulted by a bunch of fucking loonies.”

“Hey, you’re the fuckin’ loonie if you think that blackie’s your fucking sister.” A passing elven woman commented, a pasty smile plastered across her face as well. “They fucking lost us the fucking war.”

“Strange, I frankly remember the cause of you fellows losing the war to be slavers like you lot handing over the convention government over to the Avisen because they promised you land, but what the fuck do I know compared to you lot?” Shirin spoke faster and faster as she leaned in towards the quartermaster. “NOW.”

“Hey, no need to get all pissy about it.” He muttered, looking around. “How was your grade on the training run?”

“I got third degree, she was second.”

“High performers now are we?”

Shirin groaned. “Whatever. What do I call ya?”

Pulling out a bow from one of the racks, he called back, “Go by Merke, around these parts. You?”

“Kodai. She’s Jo.”

“‘Bravery’ in Uptansta? You sure you wanna give such a good name to it?”

“Her.”

“Fuck, bitch, you gonna be so uptight about it, alright! ‘Her’.” Merke grimaced, placing a worn brown bow on the table between them. Its grip tapering off with a small bandage wrapped around it in place of an actual leather handle, the ends bending and the string a bit loose, Shirin eyed it with nothing good to say. “This’ll settle? Could haul out one of the crossbows, only second degree up gets to use the fast-loaders.”

“I’ll take a traditional crossbow.”

“Um… I’ll take that bow.” Rie uttered, reaching out to take the weapon lying on the table ever so slowly; then grabbing it and taking it for herself. Merke, his youthful face marred with a single scar running down his cheek, groaned as she did; the little necklace hanging on flinging about a little arrowhead.

“Well. Old crossbow, aye? Gimme a sec, just gonna check if I have anything around here…” Merke remarked, disappearing behind the wall to look.

Shirin patted Rie on the back, nodding at her briefly; the moist, wet environment surrounding them battered with the pitter-patter of rain. The cool breeze that blew through the tarps in the mess of bushes and ferns rankled against Rie’s neck, the same arrowhead necklace visible on her own chest.

“Here ya go.” The crossbow. With blocky components locking each other in place and carvings allowing for a network of strings and hooks to pass it through, the wood still glistened slightly from a recent waxing; the othala etched into it scratched out and replaced with a small wolf.

Shirin picked it up, finger on the trigger until Merke shook his head and had her stop it.

“I think this’ll do. Thanks.”

“You sure you’re going to be going out with that burn on your face? It makes you look like a fucking monster.”

“You’re making me wear a uniform. You want them to identify us. Psychological torture, right? I’m big on that.” She turned around, Rie following. “I’m going to scare the living shit out of them.”

Her words were deafened quickly by the rain, but even through the crowded base Merke stalled, popping a pipe into his mouth as he stared after the two sisters who had just come by.

“Sis.” Rie said, pressing her fingers together as the two sat in the corner of the base, the roof not sheltering them as raindrops fell upon them from above, the bush brushing by her face smelling of fungi.

Shirin, fiddling with her crossbow, only gave a “Mm?”

“Let me talk for myself… please.”

Shirin stopped.

A bird’s chirping could be heard. Shirin twirled her mustard-yellow hair, looking away. “They won’t accept you.”

“I know.” Rie drooped her head.

“They’d hand you off in a battle if it meant their lives got out fine.”

“I know.” Her voice turned softer.

“Why? Why’d you choose to stay here and fight with me? You could’ve been well on your way, on the path to a job with some amount of security where you’re not going to be murdered for who you are.”

“It’s - it’s not relevant to the topic at hand-”

Shirin turned to face Rie, a solemn look on her face. “But it is, isn’t it? Remember what I said? What you and I agreed all those years ago? You get hurt, it’s on me. They won’t listen, they’ll charge you off into a suicide battle and then run off and-”

“Why doesn’t it go both ways?”

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Silence. The water accumulating, filling up.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

“Sis…?”

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Rie poked her sister on the shoulder, bringing her glazed-over eyes back to reality. A gust of wind blew between them, as Shirin slowly uttered,

“It doesn’t?”

Rie stared at her sister, wide-eyed. “It doesn’t… it hasn’t. Not in a long time. Not since we were in Kurasho… ...and we don’t even know if anyone from there is still around…”

“...”

“And… and you never let me speak for myself in front of others, it’s always you, and… I’m sorry that I didn’t say this earlier, that I didn’t step up, and…”

Shirin took another quick glance at Rie. Her mouth lay open, but her lips remained unmoving.

“I wanna stand for myself. For both of us. I want it to go both ways.” Rie finished, looking at Shirin, staring up towards where her eyes were supposed to be; but Shirin’s face was staring elsewhere, the ground apparently more preferable than looking her sister in the eyes. “Please?”