A/N: Sorry I disappeared for a while! I had midterms and the teamfight manager 2 playtest was out... so I kind of stopped writing for a while.

  CHAPTER 12 - CONSONANCE I

  This isn't Siena's first time in a police station. As a teenager, she tried to run away from home twice, at thirteen and fifteen; both times had, of course, been unsuccessful, and all she got for her trouble was sitting on one of these uncomfortable chairs, getting questioned with her head bowed in shame.

  There is a certain coldness to these stations, especially at night. Harsh blue lights buzz overhead, the receptionist's keyboard constantly clicks and clacks, and no one looks like they want to be here. The air feels stale and clogs her nostrils. Siena has also seen a few police bots skulk around the place, which doesn't help things. Her hands grip the sides of the chair until her knuckles turn white, but there's nothing she can do until Lucienne comes back.

  She can't help but think of the worst-case scenario in her head. Getting arrested, her non-existent reputation ruined and her career… well, it doesn't matter, really. Maybe. But if she can't be a Magical Girl, she would at least want to not be known for being arrested. She's found herself daydreaming about the future a lot recently now that she's given up on the Conductor ever taking her back. It's isolating, especially when she can't talk about it to her sisters, lest they call her a traitor and throw her away to rot in a ditch.

  Yet treason has never felt this freeing.

  A soft laugh resonates through the corridor to her right, and Siena's grip loosens slightly.

  "...for the inconvenience. Thank you so much for understanding."

  "Oh, anything for our golden girl. Shame that burglar got away."

  Still in her Magical Girl outfit and shining slightly, Lucienne makes it through the hallway accompanied by the woman who had introduced herself as chief of police for New Horizons—a position which saw her in charge of a budget larger than a lot of countries' militaries. She hadn't memorized the woman's name given that the past hour felt like a blur.

  Her eyes meet Lucienne's for a moment, but the monster looks away. What had she tangled herself up in now?

  "Sorry for making you wait so long, Silent Ash," the Chief of Police says with more respect than expected. She has a hardened face but sports a pretty cheerful smile for someone who was called in during the middle of the night to handle this. "Golden Promise explained everything. Thank you for chasing off that perp; we'll have our people call the owner of the store." She pauses, crossing her arms. "Shame, though, really. There aren't that many locally owned grocers in the city anymore."

  Lucienne nods, her face twisting with fake sympathy. "The big fish eat the little guys. That's New Horizons for you."

  "Or this entire country, really," Siena blurts out. Her old self still influences her in many ways.

  The Chief snorts. "You might be right. Fortunately my job is just to keep y'all safe. You're free to go."

  This is all fake, Siena realizes. She doesn't know why, but the Chief is accepting this blatantly false fiction. Does Golden Promise truly have this much influence not only at the Agency, but among all walks of life? That might certainly be the case, with the way people on their night shift look at her on their way out. She lights up their world, especially in costume.

  The doors slide shut behind both girls, and Siena takes in the quiet. Night has settled over New Horizons, but the city never really goes dark. A few signs glow above shuttered storefronts, their colors bleeding softly onto the sidewalk. Thin lines of essentia run along the edges of the street like faint blue veins, pulsing slowly in the pavement.

  Most of the traffic has thinned out. Every now and then a car passes, its hum fading quickly as it disappears down the avenue. Somewhere farther away, an elevated tram glides by with a low, distant whir before the sound dissolves back into the stillness.

  She needs to go on another walk with Keisha soon. But for now…

  "How did she buy it?" Siena asks. "Your burglar story."

  "Oh, she obviously didn't. You know that." Golden Promise waves a hand dismissively and smirks before leaning against a leaning against a lamppost, the streetlight above her casting a soft halo over the sidewalk. "But we came to an understanding."

  "Which…?"

  Lucienne blinks. "Oh. Oh. I'm not used to people not just trusting my word besides the Director," she says. "Well, long story short I'm gonna have to essentially lobby for her department to the Agency. They want more resources."

  More than what they already had? The thought is mind-boggling, but given that the scandal would have been so terribly paid for Lucienne, it's a cheap price. And should anyone spot them coming out of the station right now, they could just say they were helping them out with a case. They're free.

  "The Agency can just give stuff to police departments directly? Doesn't that go through the government?" Siena asks.

  The blonde shrugs. Even in the night, her eyes still shine like a dimmed sun. "Um. Sure. Officially, it might."

  Right. Officially.

  Just a while ago, Kovalenko got grilled in congress for the Agency being out of control and overreaching his authority. Maybe they were correct.

  But that isn't her place to think about. Right now, she's simply happy to still be feeling the cool air against her face.

  "I'm thirsty," she says.

  Lucienne's eyebrows rise pleasantly. "I thought you'd be… eager to get out of here."

  You owe me an explanation for all of this crap, Siena wants to demand. Unfortunately, her survival instincts won't let her. "There's stuff I want to know." She clears her throat. She hadn't come here for no reason—she needs information. Her fingers intertwine with one another. "Like about why you were freaking out and unable to control your powers."

  The Magical Girl opens her hand to stare at her palm, then closes her fist again. Her eyes grow sorrowful, as if the sun could cry. She closes them and inhales sharply, biting her bottom lip. "Sure. I wanted to tell you anyway. Come here."

  Siena tilts her head with a frown. "Why?"

  "Goodness, you have trust issues, don't you?"

  "That and I also just thought you were trying to attack me. Come on, I'll get you your drink and take you to a cool spot." She outstretches her hand.

  She relents with a sigh. "I guess I can't fly."

  "Eh, with some practice you'll probably be able to. When I was chasing you, your body was turning into… what is it? Soot?"

  "Soot. Dust. Ash. Sand. Pollen. There's too many things to count—but it's all of the little things that make up the world and add up to be great. Or great one day," she corrects.

  "There's passion behind those words."

  Siena's eyes widen a smidge. "Is there?"

  Lucienne grabs her hand. It's not particularly soft; there is a certain coarseness to it that comes with years of gripping her staff too hard. It goes against the certain perfection she's tried to wrap herself in until she drowns. Her palm is warm and her grip firm without being forceful.

  "I think so," Golden Promise says. She drags Siena inward, wrapping her arms around her from behind, and flies up a foot or so. "Is this grip good?"

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  "Mhm."

  The girls take off slowly, flying toward the center of the city. Siena takes in the quiet sight. The drone swarms and the floating hologram ads, their colors washing the glass towers in shifting blues and pinks. The high-rises rise all around them, all sleek and new with glowing lines of essentia that crawl up their sides. The rooftops form another layer of the city entirely. There are gardens lit by soft lamps, humming ventilation units, antenna arrays and landing pads scattered across the tops of towers. A pair of maintenance drones buzz past them before veering away again, their lights blinking red in the night.

  It is at the tallest of these spires that Lucienne takes them. Orion Systems, one of the wealthiest companies in the world, owns this building, so Siena is pretty sure they're trespassing again.

  It's cold up here; the wind slams into her and cuts right into the pajamas she's still wearing. She can still feel the ghost of Lucienne's arms against her stomach and her chest against her back. The blonde sits first, feet dangling from the edge; Siena opts for a safer option and doesn't let her legs sit in the void.

  "Come on. Live a little!" Lucienne chuckles. "If you fall, I'll catch you."

  "You did catch me when I was trying to run," Siena says.

  "Heh."

  "What's funny?"

  "That—that wasn't a joke?"

  "It was a fact." Siena edges forward and peeps down, ignoring the knot that forms in her stomach. "Now—are you sure about this?"

  "Sure. Why not?" Lucienne tilts her head from side to side. "You're a nobody—no offense—so there's no way people would believe a word of what you say, but you're also like me. You cover yourself in lies to survive."

  "And you were able to tell from a single interaction with me?"

  "Like I said, I had a hunch and it wasn't like I was sound of mind. God, I wish I had music playing." She lets out an audible gulp. "Back in Seattle, I was chosen by the Luminaries."

  Oh. She was launching right into it, huh. "Huh."

  "'Huh?' That's it?"

  "If anyone in the world would be a candidate, I'd assume it'd be you. Until today, I guess," Lucienne half-lies. She obviously knew the veneer of superheroism beforehand. It is still impressive to hear that a fifth Magical Girl had obtained her wish. "Go on."

  "That's the thing. I don't remember what I wished for. It's like, this gap in my memory. Hell, I only recently remembered the wish itself." Her palms clench against the edge. "Every time I try to dig back I get this deep fear in my heart. Palpitations." One of her hands comes to rest against her chest and takes a deep breath. "But it doesn't feel like not remembering something. It feels like there's a block."

  The answer is quite obvious. "Either you got hurt so bad you have memory issues or the Luminaries are involved."

  "That's the thing, right," she repeats with a slight tremble. "Why? None of the four other girls who have gotten their wishes said anything about it, and they're all dead so I can't ask them. Rose Keaton died of old age without saying anything, for fuck's sake!" She throws her hands up, and her eyes get brighter. "So is it just me? And why?"

  A moment of silence stretches for a few seconds as the wind blows in both of their hairs. Siena had inched away out of fear. Friendly or not, this girl is still a weapon of mass destruction under emotional distress. "Is that why you were… consumed by light?"

  "Partly." A bitter smile molds her face. "It's mostly that I betrayed someone dear to me. Someone I loved more than anything or anyone."

  Olivia Ruland is common knowledge among the community within the Agency, even if it is largely an open secret and few souls speak of her. Truthfully, if she hadn't been Golden Promise's best friend, no one would know about her. She was a mediocre Magical Girl at best like Siena is, especially given her young age when she was chosen.

  But love is love.

  "Other than you, no one knows this wish was offered to me." Her fingertip bursts alight, which reflect beautifully in her eyes before she closes them. "I could have wished Liv back to life. That's the entire reason I became Golden Promise. Why I've turned so many Choir members to dust day in, day out." A sigh escapes her lips.

  Strangely, she doesn't cry. A human would usually cry at a time like this. Siena doesn't really know what to say. "So you realized this, and your powers went crazy. Then you came to me, all broken up."

  "I mean, it's over, isn't it?" she asks. "No two ways around it. I'll never get her back." There's a certain emptiness in her tone. "A wish is a rarity only bestowed to the greatest Magical Girls who have ever lived. Two wishes is unheard of. Basically impossible."

  "It is."

  The blonde squints at her. "Not even a word of encouragement?"

  "No," Siena says. "There is no point in having hope if the situation you want will never happen. So you might as well come to terms with it now." She stares out into the city and wrinkles her nose at a hologram advertisement for caretaker bots made by the very company of the building they sit on.

  Lucienne stares at her, eyes piercing straight through her, like a sudden light cast over a nest of rats. "That's not what people would usually say to me. They'd say 'a Magical Girl like you will for sure get a second wish!'" she exclaims in a voice laced with irony. "Bunch of bullshit. Ninety-five percent of them wouldn't believe it."

  "It's difficult to sprinkle a dose of reality on someone who is as important as you. They might get scared of offending you, or you not liking them anymore, or—"

  "I know. No need for a lecture," she interrupts before taking a deep breath. "Thanks for the honesty, though," she says a little softly. Lucienne blows a long, defeated raspberry. "Well, that's that." Another sigh. "I lied about this spot, by the way. Well, I didn't lie. I just don't come here ever; I just figured it'd be nice to think on short notice."

  The whiplash Siena feels makes her shake her head in confusion. "Oh—I—" she stutters a bit, but then manages to find her footing. "Where do you usually go?"

  "The Pacific. I love the sound of the ocean. Helps me relax and empty my brain."

  "Isn't that where you train?"

  "I don't know if you know this, but the Pacific is huge. You could have thousands of me doing whatever and it'd be fine."

  Siena wants to roll her eyes—she would have if this was Keisha—instead she just looks down at the endless emptiness below her feet to center herself with a healthy dose of fear. Yes, she thinks, betrayal of the Choir or not, you are commiserating with the enemy. Do not get complacent. Someone honking far below snaps her out of her thoughts just in time.

  "Where do you go?" Lucienne asks suddenly. "To relax?"

  "I don't think I've been truly relaxed a day of my life."

  Dark dust swirls in her eyes, obscuring her vision. Her mouth tastes like ash.

  "Sometimes people just say that. I think you're telling the truth," she says.

  "Why?"

  A slight smile reaches Lucienne's lips. "Because you're an honest person."

  How? How did she have Golden Promise eating out of the palm of her hands? The monster has to keep looking down to not let the guilt show on her face. "No. I'm not."

  "We can agree to disagree. I know you've had a brutal childhood, so it makes sense. I didn't really get a childhood. I barely speak to my parents," Lucienne explains. "Hard to form a connection when I've been away since I was thirteen. I guess they're nice enough, though."

  Siena remembers the picture sitting in the entrance of her home. Of her empty eyes staring at something right outside the frame with no hope.

  "Enough about… childhoods."

  "Oh. Sorry." She scoots a little closer, adjusting the skirt around her thighs. "I've never had someone to speak to like this so I guess I don't know the limits of what's fine or not."

  "Don't you have—" Siena cycles through names while she yawns, all fake friends, until she reaches Star Sentinel. "Estelle? She's pretty genuine about you."

  "She's nice enough. I'm not to her, though."

  "If you weren't, I doubt she'd be so deadset about being with you. She stayed in your hospital room day in and day out. Though I'm sure she likes you more than you like her."

  "If you knew someone was in love with you and you kept essentially leading her on because the status quo is more convenient for you, would you consider that being good to them?" Golden Promise says matter-of-factly. Siena can't make out if there's any guilt in her eyes—it doesn't seem like there is. "Not that I'm coming onto her or anything. It's kind of funny when she tries to make me jealous when sleeping with other girls or random men though."

  "Huh."

  "She sees through my facade, and that makes her think we have something special. It's unfortunate, but hopefully she gets tired of me," she explains. "I… like her to a moderate degree."

  "Do you like anyone? Truly?" Siena knows the answer, but she has to play the part.

  "Since Liv, the most I've liked someone is… I don't know," she exhales. "As an acquaintance? It's like that case we studied in class. It's hard to tell where my facade ends and begins. I mean, take Silver Mercy. I knew her well. She showed me the ropes when I was just starting out and I acted like she was a big sister to me for a while—of course, we grew a little more distant with age, but—the point is, I felt nothing when I heard she was dead. I care about saving people, I know that I want to forge a better world and it's a tragedy when Magical Girls die. I mean, I go visit the Hall of Bells routinely!" She throws her hands up. "But on a personal level? It's tough to feel more than a slight ache."

  The monster takes it all in. All of the information she'd already known because of her slight stay in Golden Promise's brain, now confirmed before her instead of a whisper of a dream that felt barely real. This girl. This poor girl. She had shut herself off from the world when her love died and forgotten how to open her heart to others.

  Now all that remains is this. A machine who kills members of the Choir with relentless efficiency, and who drifts through life otherwise.

  "I don't care who lives and dies. I don't care about the community. I don't care about any of the cases we're studying," Siena says. "Truth be told, I didn't care if the northwestern coast got harmonized or not, nor do I care about civilian deaths or displacements caused by the Choir." Soot gathers at her fingertips. "I want to become a good Magical Girl for vanity's sake. Because I figured it'd cure my mental issues. Because it'd give me a purpose and thought being recognized and celebrated would stop the world from being so dull and grey."

  This is still as true now as it was before the monster entered Siena's body, especially without the Choir to help her find such purpose.

  And her siblings couldn't know. Even Lucienne can't know the truest of truths.

  Thus, one desperate girl opens up her heart, and the other keeps it closed.

  Lucienne's eyes twitch, and a small sound escapes her mouth.

  "I think I'm ready now. Please give me a moment."

  She stands up, faces the horizon, and cries silently until she can look directly into the rising sun.