6

“Valen,” I say in a breath. I step into the room and he watches me as I approach. I reach a hand forward, gently touching the big scar that runs up his front. 

He grabs my wrist, bringing my hand up to his chest, laying it flat against his skin, over his heart. He holds his hand over my own. “One by one, these scars made me who I am.” There’s a dark tone to his voice that I don’t like, don’t want to be there. “Whether Cyrillius made me this way or not, these parts of me are who I am. The past doesn’t disappear. This…everything in front of us is going to be hard. Maybe impossible. Are you sure I’m worth it, Nova?” 

My eyes rise up to his and I let his words sink into me. I let them fill my heart, my stomach, my eyes. 

“That’s what we’re here for, Valen,” I answer him. “That’s why we crashed on this planet. To discover the answer to that question. But you’re a human being. No one deserves what he’s put you through all this time. I would do this for anyone.” 

I see the expression in Valen’s eyes change a little, but I don’t know how to read it. He’s so complex and I only know how to read him when he lets me inside his very mind. 

He looks down at my hand on his chest and touches his forehead to mine. He holds his other hand on the back of my neck, keeping us connected, inseparable. 

“Everything about you is so foreign to me, Nova,” he says. “Never, in my entire life, have I encountered anyone with even a small degree of your determination and goodness.” 

It feels like he has more to say, but he doesn’t. Maybe because he knows he shouldn’t. 

I try to put myself in his place, knowing what I do about him, and understand. 

“Lie down,” I say. “Let’s see what we can find.” 

He looks doubtful and worried as we break apart, but he doesn’t say anything as he lies down on the bed where he slept. He lays flat on his back, his eyes turned up to the ceiling. 

I kneel behind him, positioned above his head. 

I let my eyes slide closed for a moment, collecting myself. I tell myself to be strong, to not lose who I am when I go in there. I tell myself to find the bad, to find the tainted traces that are not Valen, and get them out. 

“I believe in you,” Valen whispers. 

And with his affirmation, I touch the sides of Valen’s head, and I let myself fall down into his mind. 

 

 

 

It’s dark. So dark. 

I hear screams. 

I hear a language I do not recognize. 

I feel sand all around my body. 

I see dozens of worlds and various ships. 

I see Neron blue. 

I see red blood. 

I suck in a shallow breath. I press my fingertips tightly into Valen’s temples. I shift in the bed, better balancing myself. 

You can do this, I say to myself. 

I believe in you. And I’m not sure if it’s just a memory or a voice in my head. 

A scream flashes. The shape of Cyrillius’ voice booms in my brain. I feel lives all around me. I feel pain and resentment. I feel darkness. 

There’s a rush of power, more Neron than I’ve ever felt flows through my veins. It releases. 

And then the world is silent. 

Images flash through my head. Valen, over and over. Carrying out Cyrillius’ commands. Ending lives. Diverting water supplies to drive out populations. Punishing insubordinate employees. 

And all I feel is numbness. 

He’s empty. 

There’s that dark cavern, and that makes Valen who he is. 

I feel that cavern transferring to me. I feel despair. I feel…doubt. 

Valen is not a good person. 

He can’t leave Cyrillius, but obeying all those commands, I feel the choice in them. 

Valen did them because he believed there was nothing better and no reason to hope. 

But in that moment, I take my awareness to my fingertips. I concentrate on the feeling of my skin on his. 

Valen has done bad things. But he is a human being. He has a heart. He has his own mind. 

He has potential. 

With determined focus, I let myself dive into his mind. 

Deeper and deeper I burrow. I ignore all the darkness, all the actions of his past. 

I dive for the center of his mind. 

And there, in the very middle of who he is, I find it. A pulsing black darkness. It’s real and it’s alive. There’s a screaming storm surrounding it and flashes of red, demonic lightning. 

But I see it, clear as day. 

So cautious, afraid, and hopeful, I reach a hand toward it. I summon Neron, collecting all the power I can. 

I reach. I imagine killing that pulsing darkness. 

My hands glow blue and brilliant. 

And the second I touch it, my brain is filled with screams, a howling storm of rage. 

And everything goes dark.