Tomorrow

Enne and Cire stood within a void with countless stars warped throughout its spherical setting. The image of the fight faded. The dark elph held a transparent compass-like contraption that guided the stars. Enne couldn’t help but feel the power beneath her fragile façade. Celestial gusts forced Enne to block her face until it died down. Her ears perked to a stream’s gentle flow before opening her eyes. She opened her eyes to discover a lush garden. The vibrant greenery permeated the plot of land. Beyond the rocky hillside was the manor she knew all too well. Enne took a step forward, absorbing everything until she turned to Cire.

“I’m home?” she winced.

“Quite beautiful memories,” she said. “Wouldn’t you say, my dear sister?”

Enne took a closer look, realizing Cire’s face was like her father’s. It was unmistakable. Enne knew there was little reason for her to lie.

“You said memories?” Enne asked, stopping short when she saw a familiar figure behind her.

A middle-aged woman and a young elven child entered. The wide-eyed child peered around in her mint green sundress. She hopped ahead while holding her mother’s oversized floppy hat. Her salt and pepper hair wafted when she spun toward her mother with a beaming smile. Her mother smiled back. Enne shared many similarities with her mother, from her brimming confidence to her overall physique. Her skin tone was olive-toned, and her loosely braided hair hung over her shoulder. Cire glanced over to find Enne’s trance; Her lips quivered, wanting to say something, but she knew there was nothing to say to an illusion.

“Enne?” her mother asked with a raised eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

“N—nothing!” the child stammered. Her mother walked over, watching her smile slowly fade.

Her mother kneeled to face her, but the child averted her silver eyes.

“Come on now,” she reassured as she reached for her cheeks. “You can tell me. What’s wrong?”

When Enne didn’t reply, her mother guided her to the shallow stream. The water reflected the sunlight in a plethora of colorful refractions. Few fish lingered over the smooth riverbed. Enne and Cire walked past them, stopping to their side. Enne remembered how patient her mother was when she’d shut down. She easily saw through her smiles. The child fixated on her reflection. Her ears and dual-colored hair differed from her peers.

“Why do I—look different from the others?” she said in a low voice. “They pick on me for my ears and my hair. They call me the Little Old Elf.”

“Little old elf, eh?” her mother repeated. The woman noticed her few wrinkles on the water’s surface. The little half-elf’s ears perked to her mother’s light-hearted chuckle. “You kids these days can sure be mean.”

Little Enne looked at her mother’s reflection.

“So, what if you look different?” she added. She gently tapped her child’s heart. “It ain’t about how you look, but who you are on the inside. You put on a brave face because you don’t want them to see you hurt. It’s okay to—”

Her child slumped into her arms, sobbing into her chest. She held her gently while listening to the perpetual stream. While soothing the little half-elf, she looked at the lingering manor. Enne didn’t realize the tears that fell down her cheek until she sensed Cire’s quiet observance.

“Um,” Enne’s lips quivered. Cire smiled.

“Is it that hard for us?” she asked. Enne nodded.

“Our father wasn’t the expressive type. He’d always be locked away for the most part.”

“Reminds you of a certain someone, no? One’s prison doesn’t have to be a physical manifestation, but the one that constrains the heart.”

Cire snapped her fingers as she looked into her half-sister’s eyes. The setting had changed once more within the blink of an eye. They found themselves in the depths of the Enne’s manor. Enne saw herself as an adult long before inheriting her markings. The straightened, mostly silver hair with few black strands and a paler complexion were present. Her silver eyes held the same fierceness as her mother’s, though they hid the tenderness within. What Cire saw was unlike the Enne she met. The lanky figure across her donned the old Ethoxian military uniform.

His slender face came with a sad gaze. Enne had cornered him in his dark office after several unsavory exchanges throughout their home. The wooden chair began to crunch under her grip as her frustration grew. Enne remembered this moment well.

“You’re not going to see her?” Enne repeated. He withheld a response, but she proceeded to get close. He shrugged off her hand and maintained a distance.

“I can’t,” his reply projected a meek whisper. His eyes remained stern yet conflicted.

“You can’t? Mom… She’s been asking for you, yet—"

“Nuri, I—” he raised his voice before cowering slightly. Her eyebrows twitched.

“That name—” Enne whispered. “How did I forget?”

“Who?” Her younger self continued. “Who is that?”

“Never mind that.”

“I want to know!”

He ignored her question as he paced toward the dimmed window. Ulysses fixated on the sunset over the city. His disposition returned to his typical nonchalant façade. Younger Enne sighed before stepping forward. Even then, he didn’t react as she eased herself.

“Dad,” she said. “Why is it so hard for you to look at me?”

Her father’s eyes trailed toward his daughter. The cold sadness in his eyes sent shivers down the observant Enne.

“Are you ashamed of me?”

Her father didn’t reply as her daughter let the shame sink in. Not wanting to see her cry, she stormed off and slammed the door shut. The illusion slowly disintegrated into the voice. Enne turned to Cire, watching as the image of their father faded.

“Especially after my mother’s passing, we hardly spoke,” Enne said. “I… I don’t know what I did to warrant it. The older I got, the more estranged we became. I wish things could’ve been different. Why did you bring me here to remind me of… this?”

“So, I can understand you a little better,” she replied. “The past will always be linked to our actions, whether we’re consciously aware of it or not. Enne, I’m not here to fight you.”

“Wait! So, this was… You’re trying to get in my head?”

“By now, you must have a similar ability.”

Enne turned away, thinking about what she saw in Alejandro’s past. Pain and remorse defined not only himself but his worldview. Like her father, there were things he couldn’t let go of. She often wondered whether it was a form of punishment. Enne never asked. It was never her right to pry. Yet, her half-sister doted, seeing her tears trickling on her cheek.

“I suppose I do,” Enne nodded. “But why couldn’t you have just asked?”

“Well…” Cire thought of a response. “After fighting those cyborgs, I didn’t think you wanted to sit down for coffee.”

“You look like you need it more.”

“Perhaps I do,” Cire agreed. Enne warmed up with a smile. There was nothing to see in the expansive void.

“Now, what?” she asked.

“We work together.”

Cire summoned an orb that expanded back into the present. Nothing had changed since their time away. Enne turned to Alejandro. His grimace remained as he gripped the yet-to-be-generated sword’s hilt. His amber eyes fixated on the mech before them. Its massive energy blade was readied for a swipe. Enne walked over and found pain behind his eyes.

“He was ready to use what mana he had left,” she noted as she held his free hand.

“It could be fatal,” Cire acknowledged. Enne faced her after she shuddered. “However, I can buy him some time.”

“Time?” Enne repeated before her eyes drifted toward Alejandro.

“Yes, he’s a wanderer, but he’s still human. Us Elphynians can live for a long time. You can live through countless generations... That pain you must’ve felt seeing all your loved ones pass.”

Enne nodded.

“How did you cope with that?” the half-elph asked. Cire couldn’t summon an immediate response.

“I never did,” Cire replied. “You just live, asking yourself, what can you do to make a difference? Unlike yourself… It took me a long time to reach that answer.”

Cire walked beside Alejandro and rested her hand on his shoulder. She looked Enne in the eyes with little expression to reveal her intent. Her darkened hands glowed, pulsating as energy coursed through him. Enne watched reluctantly, but she felt his life slowly coming back. The dark elph gradually shifted her hand off his shoulder. Enne winced as Cire exchanged a meek smile.

“If only I could’ve saved my friend, then…” she added. “Had I known I could heal instead of destroy… If those memories defined you in your youth, I could only imagine how this one—”

“His name is Alejandro Gaitan.”

Cire nodded slightly before letting go.

“Alejandro… He’s a fighter until the very it seems… Suitable for my little sister. Perhaps we should let this play out, hm?”

“What?”

“Trust me. After this, it may be awhile until we meet again. From how I can imagine things, we’ll be on different spectrums of the conflict.”

“Two sides of the same coin?”

Cire didn’t reply. Time suddenly shifted, allowing the scene to play out as Enne kept her distance. They watched as Alejandro charged up his sword. The mech didn’t scare him. He was ready to go, though he soon realized he was no longer ailing. He looked over his shoulder, discovering the observant elphs.

“The hell just happened, Enne?” he asked.

“Hey!” Janus’s voice muffled through the mech’s loudspeaker. “Never turn away from your opponent!”

Before he could attempt, the mech stalled. Janus tried desperately to move it forward. He glimpsed Cire’s creeping smile. He began panting when he realized he couldn’t escape from his harness. A holographic screen appeared and began playing an old music video. The taps of Rick Astley’s feet kicked off the song while the bandit leader pried against his constraints. The song blared through the mech, much to the couple’s confusion. They heard his struggle beneath the upbeat chorus.

“Cire!” he growled.

The mech exploded soon after, sending its parts flying throughout the pavement.

Enne and Alejandro turned to find the mischievous elph’s subdued smile. Enne raised an eyebrow when she recognized the lyrics.

“No way,” Enne gasped. “You rick-rolled him?”

“He had it coming,” Cire shrugged.

Oh god… These two are more alike than I imagined. Alejandro thought. Enne glanced over to the rejuvenated wanderer. Cire felt a warm feeling in her heart when she saw her sister’s smile. But she knew this wasn’t why she was here. Their time together would need to come to an end for the ends she sought to achieve.

“How are you feeling?” she whispered while hugging him.

“Like nothing happened,” he replied.

“Well then,” Cire said. “I must be off. My job is done here.”

“Huh?” Enne released Alejandro and turned to her sister. “But we have so much to talk about!”

Cire shook her head.

“This is where our paths diverge,” she insisted. Her tone was more direct. “It was a pleasure to have met you finally.”

“But—”

“When we meet again…”

Her frown said it all before she flew off in a beam of light. However, Enne’s eyes trailed away before she noticed. Alejandro gently gripped her hand, feeling the slight tremble at the sudden farewell. The wanderer fixated on the dark elph’s rapid ascent as he brought Enne closer to him. He rubbed her shoulders as she quietly wept.

“I—Don’t understand,” she uttered.

“It’s okay, En,” he replied. “What matters is what she did for us now.”

“And tomorrow?”

Her watery eyes looked into his, finding his fears washed away.

“Tomorrow is… Just another opportunity.”

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