Of course I’d choose my mother over traveling with him. But a part of me felt like I had missed out on a big opportunity, and worse, like I had made my chances of staying in research bleaker.

I smoothed out my dress, blue as the ocean, and wiggled my toes in my tan ankle boots before bending beneath my bed. As I pulled my clothing chest from beneath my bed that morning, white sunlight casting itself over the red and gold hand-me-down from Bira, I made a promise to myself that once we returned from holiday I’d do it. I’d cure the Demise.

The thought of such a thing made me drop the chest and it fell to the ground with a huge thump. Just then, someone decided to knock on my door.

“Give me a minute!”

Then, a sigh came as the handle turned and jostled. Axelle poked her head in, the sigil painted over her right eye peeking at me first. Her gold hair mixed with the white morning light, “Just wanted to wish you a happy All Souls, or whatever,” she rolled her eyes, then something up the hall took her attention away, “oh, Bira!” she let the door slam, but I could still hear her manufactured brightness beyond the thin door, “Happy All Souls! Oh, are you trying to get in here? Let me!”

Axelle shot me a death glare as Bira entered. She made sure to prop the door open before she left.

Bira and I left the Order in silence, traveling down the main hallways and down the grand, winged, staircase. He made a point to carry his own luggage (which was just a backpack) and my chest as well. Once we left the Orders sky high gates and had nothing but the forested pathway to the city of Bois Rouge spread out before us, he decided to break the silence.

“Well?”

I looked up at him, slightly surprised to realize that I hadn’t really looked at him. It was always surprising not to see him in glimmering justicar gold. Today, he wore a long white tunic and brown harem pants stuffed into scuffed boots. His long white hair was in its typical ponytail and, of course, he wore a scarf over his mouth.

I shrugged, “I’m here aren’t I?”

He looked down at me pointedly.

It didn’t feel right telling him all of the events last night. Though I know that going to these dinners is good for my career, something about them—especially last night—felt so, so, wrong. Wine, dancing, music. It felt like a date.

I stumbled over my words until I found the right ones, “I asked to go to the All Souls gala,” I told him, “and he let me.”

Bira shook his head, “Always procrastinating.”

“Well when am I supposed to ask?”

His eyes laughed, “Three rotations before.”

“So many things can change in three rotations!”

He snorted, “Excuses, excuses.”

Bois Rouge was a solar city. A city built high enough to catch the morning sun as she rose. Its buildings were fortified in white sandstone and from the outside, it looked more like a fortress that a home to hundreds of thousands. The Order is situated in the forest directly north of Bois Rouge, but not more than an hours walk away. We entered the city through its west gate and traveled down, down, down into its underbelly. Even here, the walls were white as snow, the streets clean but packed with people. The closer we got to the underground station, the more populated the streets became. It seemed like everyone was trying to leave for All Souls.

We made it to the station with moments to spare. It was underground, though well lit with a skylight that mimicked a summer sky. I sat on my trunk as we waited for our train to pull in. Bira stood nearby, arms crossed. An intimidating presence to any who lingered too close.

“Did I ever tell you that he doesn’t even eat meat?” I began, trying to take my mind off of the strangeness of last night, “I thought—well assumed…,” I looked out at the crowd. Spotted a few justicars in civilian clothes from the Order. Biras friends?

The train began pulling into the station with a clamor of steel and smoke. I stood and Bira slid my chest away from me.

“If your career mattered,” he grunted as he hoisted the chest onto his strong shoulder, “so much, he wouldn’t ask that of you.”

The train slid to a rolling stop and its wheels screeched over the tracks as it did. Tiny sparks flew before a conductor climbed down from the centered powder blue car. We passed up our tickets and began to climb up. Bira offered me a hand. The powder blue interior of the train gave off a springtime scent. Out of the many rows of oversized seats and wide, walnut, tables between; we found ours.

“That?” I asked him as we found our seats and he hoisted the chest into the overhead compartment.

He grunted as he hoisted it and his backpack up into the compartment, “The dinners,” he said, “they’re wrong and he knows it.”

What I couldn’t mention was that I was passing up the chance to move further in my career for the chance of seeing my mom and attending a gala with her and my best friend.

What I couldn’t mention was that I regretted that. And I regretted regretting that. So I just gave him my sweetest smile, which hurt my face and made my eyes water.