The Fault in Our Sisters

Alma once again reflexively looked at her watch. She had sent a message to her sister hours ago and still hadn’t gotten a response nor did her sister answer the two times she had attempted to call her throughout the night. After having spent most of the evening showing her new companions the various bars and candy shops she liked to frequent, it had soon gotten very late and she had grown increasingly worried. It was very rare for Zula not to send Alma at least one complaint about her work every day. Behind her, the other two women were comparing the different flavors of stick candies they had bought. Alma, who had introduced it to them, felt a bit of hometown pride since they were considered one of the city’s most popular delicacies. Qu’l-Nia had oddly described the flavor of the sweets to her as “nostalgic.”

“I’ll never understand how you can live in a city with that enormous, creepy-lookin’ statue,” noted Hwalín. “Is it even human? Scared me out of my damn boots when we got into town.”

Alma said nothing, continuing to fiddle with her All-Strap.

“Do you two mind if we make a short trip to my sister’s house? She’s not answering my calls and it’s starting to freak me out.”

“You sure she just doesn’t want you botherin’ her right now? Maybe she’s got a guy over and you keep interrupting.”

Alma contemplated this for a second. She wondered why the thought of her sister with a man would seldom cross her mind. Relationships had never been something her sister ever talked much about. It wasn’t like she had been restricted to celibacy by the church like some religions were known to do. No, Alma had always suspected the reason to be much simpler. The overbearing protectiveness her sister had always shown towards Alma’s love life had most likely stemmed from her own embarrassing lack of experience in the area.

“Don’t be silly.” Alma scoffed after a moment. “She’s more likely to adopt another stray before she ever sees a co—”

The ringing of the phone on her wrist began to chime loudly, interrupting her crass statement. The ringing came in the form of a theme song to an old cartoon about a troupe of talking gatin warriors. Along with that, a miniature image of her sister making a silly face while holding a wine bottle appeared on the screen; A silly photograph taken a few years ago during her sister’s birthday when the law had finally allowed her to drink legally. A lot of personalization had gone into the small device on her wrist, making it another thing she was proud to silently boast about.

“That’s catchy,” the elf stated.

Alma brought a finger to her lips before quickly answering the call. “Zula? What’s up? Is everything… cool?”

“Listen,” Zula replied. Her voice seemed to indicate she was still in priestess mode. “Something dire came up at the church that the Psycho Superioress felt warranted my attention. They didn’t give me many details but she said the order came straight down from the Madness Council so it definitely sounds like a big deal. With the war going on, it seems most of the on-duty sisters have already been dispersed throughout the country to deal with the war effort and it sounds like I’m next in line to get sent out.”

"What do you mean sent out? Where?"

"I'm sure you'd have heard about it if you were still out there but a small contingent of soldiers were wiped out by… something. They wouldn't tell me much beyond that yet they still want me to go out there with a few others to see if I can offer some aid slash prayers." An unclear voice in the background could be heard calling out to her. "Before you start grumbling, even if I had a choice, I would never say no to offering aid where it's needed. I go wherever Macha wills me."

"Damn it, Zula. It should be me out there."

"I'm glad it's not. It isn’t your body I would want to find."

"That's not what I—"

"I'll call you when I get there. I assume you'll still be up."

Alma nodded silently.

"Actually, the main reason I called was because I wanted you to head to my place and watch over that stray I found. He's gonna need someone to feed him while I'm gone."

"Um, sure. Huh? Wait, hold on a second." Alma put her sister on hold. Qu'l-Nia at some point had begun prodding her shoulder.

"Your sister mentioned that a group of soldiers had been decimated by an unknown force? Could it have been Derleth?"

Alma shrugged. "I don't know. Like she said, we're at war. Stuff like this isn't all that uncommon. Now please let me finish talking to my sister."

But by then Zula had already hung up the call causing Alma to swear loudly.

Hwalín, who had been silent the entire time, finally spoke. "Damn, your sister's pretty hardcore. Didn't even hesitate when they called her for duty.”

"It's one thing for me to go out there," Alma said, panic steadily growing in her voice. "But I've got the several weeks of training under my belt. Zula doesn't. She isn't tough like me. She's more… methodical. Someone that belongs indoors. Putting her out there with the soldiers isn't safe for someone like her."

"Have you perhaps considered you are underestimating her?" Qu'l-Nia interjected.

"Yeah, Alma," Hwalín chimed in. "I heard the resolve in her voice. She seemed so sure of herself. Not someone I’d be worrying about."

Alma grasped the charm in her pocket, fiddling with it and passing it through her fingers. She wanted to complain. Tell them that they didn’t know anything about Zula. But lashing out would have been a pointless waste of energy. She knew they meant well and were just trying to cheer her up. And she remembered well the difficult struggle it was for her to make new friends.

"I want to protect her…" Alma's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Whatever you decide,” Hwalín placed a firm hand on the shaking sniper's shoulder. “We're a team now. And that means I've got your back."

“But… We barely know each other…” she mumbled weakly to herself. Alma, still firmly gripping onto the gift from her sister, finally managed to utter a “thank you” before raising her head upward with a painful smile.

“Hey guys,” Alma continued, her shoes scraping against the ground nervously. “I know we’re still practically strangers but it also feels like we’ve been through the wringer together. Despite how reluctant I’ve been, I really am grateful to you for saving my life."

"Finally! Some gratitude. Should I be worried you’re getting a bit emotional on us now, Ms. Sniper?" Hwalín teased her. A response indicating that she understood.

"I swear I'll shoot you," Alma replied dryly. The tight grip she had on her charm began to soften. "That was a joke, for you less emotional beings."

"Thank you for your consideration," replied Qu'l-Nia. "But I am simply glad to see you returned to your usual snarky self. It would not do well for our objective if you suddenly succumbed to an unsound state of mind."

"Thanks for reminding me to save a bullet for you too," replied Alma, in her usual snarky tone. She took a step onto the ledge of the fountain in front of her and pointed eastward. “And now for the final stop on our tour today: my sister’s place.”