//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: Footnotes in History // Story: Callsign MANE VI: Twilight // by Col_StaR //------------------------------// Ten years is a long time to be apart; that made itself evident as the night went on. There was just so much to catch up on. Years worth of classes, birthdays, and milestones missed had to be explained. And there were still countless events and occurrences that were to follow. It was a shame that tonight was the only night they could finally catch up. However, both siblings were intent on making the fleeting moments matter. Over dinner in the mess hall, Spike and Twilight spoke voraciously. Spike shared memories about himself and the guys in his class, stories of mischief they’d find themselves in as their training progressed. One story in particular revolved around classmates Snips and Snails, and their attempt to make a make-shift laser-light show. Tucked away in the basement of their dormitory, the two had spent weeks scavenging parts and wiring the electrical work together from junk parts, scrapped machines, and assorted gadgets that people mysteriously abandoned in their own rooms. When the build was finished, they threw a party to celebrate with their friends, Spike included. But as such things were wont to do, soon half the building was crammed into the basement, anxiously awaiting either an electro-lit spectacle, or the duo’s most recent failure. Needless to say, the latter happened. After the series of small fires were contained and the emergency power returned lighting to the building, both Snips and Snails spent the next few months cleaning up the mess and repairing the damage they had done. To this day, they still aren’t allowed to turn on a light switch without supervision. But then it came time for Twilight to return the conversation. She struggled to find something appropriate to say. How could she, when her most prominent memories bordered between bland and depressing? Could she remind Spike of the day they were torn apart, when their clasped hands were separated, leaving the young boy’s tear-reddened emerald eyes burned into her memory? Or would she share the fact that she spent her tenth birthday alone, sitting in a room devoid of cake and friends, with only a handful of books to keep her company? No, she thought to herself, I can’t ruin this for him. I shouldn’t revel in the past; I should be enjoying this present. Bearing an honest smile, she chose to share her harrowing tales of lengthy assignments and late nights spent in the Grand Library. “You know, I always heard rumors about a hermit living in the library. I never thought it’d be my sister.” “Hey, it’s not that bad. I honestly wouldn’t mind living in a library. It’d be quiet, and calm, and you’d be surrounded with shelves of things to do.” “Yeah, but where would you sleep? It’s not like you can sleep on the shelves.” “No… but I’ll let in in on a secret.” Her eyes shifted left and right, and her voice dropped into hushed tones, “If you get a stack the thesauruses and the dictionaries together, one on top of the other, they form a solid wall. So on a few occasions- after the library closes and the librarians are gone-… I’d gather up some seat cushions, arrange them somewhere warm, make a fort out of the books, and… just spend the night in there.” Spike almost spilled his drink as he burst out laughing. How good felt it to hear him laugh again. Their discussion continued undeterred even after dinner. It was the week of the winter solstice, one of the few break periods the students and faculty had to enjoy. Free from lessons and assignments, students were free to do as they wished within their confines; parties, games, and other rambunctious activities were always rampant throughout the dormitories. Wandering groups of friends shared the dusky sidewalks with pairs of patrolling security guards, both groups eyeing their watches for the 10 PM curfew. The clock tower in the main square chimed sonorously six times, 1800 hours, but the sky was already darkening. Two students, standing side by side, continued their walk along the winding web of roads, lit by an endless row of streetlights. The midwinter cold nipped at Twilight’s fingers, forcing them to retreat into the warm sleeves of her jacket. With every breath, she would watch the warm air condense into thin streaks of grey before disappearing in the wind. She continued the conversation, “I don’t think I really had the option not to go on this assignment, really. With a meeting as important as this one, it’s not like I could just say ‘no, thank you’. Cell would be outraged. She would lock me in the brig for insubordination. Or banish me from the Institute. Or lock me in the brig and then banish me. I can’t risk that!” Spike shut his hands into his pant pockets as he rolled his eyes. “I think you’re overreacting. She can’t imprison you or banish you just for saying no-” “But I can’t appear disloyal or unappreciative. If she even suspects I’m not up to par, she might drop me as her student, maybe even send me back to Class Zero. I’ll be learning how to spell my own name again with kids a quarter of my age. And then everyone will know- and they’ll laugh at me- and-” “Twi, Cell’s your teacher, and you’re her student. Some part of her must understand. She wouldn’t just decide to abandon you over something like this, and she certainly wouldn’t drop you into a class full of toddlers. No matter what you think, she couldn’t possibly be that bad.” She could feel her heartbeat throb in her head. As the jumbled thoughts began to subside, Twilight let out a groan, “Well… no- I mean-… I don’t know.” “You don’t know? But you said yourself that you’ve been her student for years. If anything, you should know her better than anyone else on campus has.” “Spike, it’s Cell: leader of the Network and the founder of the Institute. When she isn’t conducting my lessons, she’s always working in her office or meeting with her council of Directors. I doubt she’d have neither the time nor the patience to answer something like, ‘what’s your favorite color?’ or ‘what does your name mean?’” The two stopped on the corner of an intersection. Under the streetlamp’s alabaster glow, Spike turned to face his sister. “Come on. She obviously trusts you if she wants you to come to this meeting. We’re going outside the Institute, Twilight! No one’s been allowed outside those walls in a generation, but tomorrow, we’ll be the ones who’re gonna change that. Why not just ask her then? It’s not like we’ll have anything better to do afterwards, anyways.” Twilight pondered the question lightly. “Tell you what: once everything’s done and we’re heading back home, then maybe I’ll consider asking. Deal?” Spike knew how skeptical her offer was, but he didn’t hesitate to answer, “Deal.” And as they exchanged nods, the agreement was sealed. “’ Both parties are to meet at the Selenic Manor at the appointed time- 12:00 PM-… Respective representative will meet in the main hall… Guards will be excused for the extent of the deliberation. Deliberations are expected to continue until 4:00 PM… Guest rooms are available if deemed necessary… Lunch will be served- yadda yadda yadda…” Spike read and reread the dossier over and over again as he sat upon the wooden floor. Pouring over the notes on the tablet computer, he hoped to find an additional breadcrumb of information to talk about. Amongst the ordered shelves of books and scattered pages of notes in Twilight’s quarters, the two had spent an hour discussing the assignment that had brought them together. The energy in the room had dimmed with the setting sun, but Spike was intent on keeping it alive. “The guys aren’t going to believe this. I will admit that I was hoping for a job with a little more… stuff actually happening, but this is pretty cool too. We’re going to be like diplomats, with bodyguards and a mansion and everything. Maybe we’ll even make a part of history! What do you think, sis?” Twilight gave no reply. His enthusiasm remained undeterred. “I think it sounds amazing, don’t you?” Once again, no reply. Spike turned to investigate. Night had fallen, and the black-haired woman was caught staring out the darkened window. She was indeed physically present, but he questioned if his sister was really there. “Sis?” His words didn’t seem to register with the woman. She was frozen in distraction, her thoughts trapped somewhere far from the here and now. He could see it in the way her violet eyes had locked in place, staring endlessly into the empty void. “Twilight?” The welcoming smile that he had grown accustomed to was gone from her expression, leaving only an empty gaze. As much as he convinced himself that his sister hadn’t changed, that she was still the innocent and loving girl from their shared past, he feared he was wrong. Spike reached his hand towards his sister’s shoulder, carefully inching closer. “Sarah?” The name, paired with the sound of his voice, jolted her back to consciousness. Focus gradually returned to her eyes, and she was caught staring out her fourth-story window. From the perch, she would be able to see above the stately spires and angled roofs, and barely peer over the Institute’s towering border wall. Beyond that wall was the outside world, a place that had rejected the two siblings, a place they would soon be returning to. But now, the moonless night and the coming clouds had cast a black veil over the window and land. “I’m sorry Spike,” she replied with a sigh, tearing her eyes away from the window, “I’m just anxious about all this.” Spike was relieved to hear her speak. He stood at his sister’s side. “Well, me too. First Assignment Jitters and all that. But hey, you gotta admit that this sounds like an awesome assignment. We’ll have body guards, and suits- and codenames- so we might as well be secret agents. What do you think we’ll be planning, world peace or world domination? Heck, maybe we’ll even be written into history!” Twilight giggled as she rolled her eyes, “Yeah, as a footnote most likely.” “Hey, a footnote is better than no note.” She couldn’t argue with that. Still, as excited as her passenger sounded, she couldn’t let her little brother lose sight at the task at hand. “Just don’t forget what we’re actually here for. Cell only requested that we be prepared to aid in minor administrative duties: learning the layout of the manor, syncing up everyone’s itineraries, making sure everything’s absolutely perfect, simple tasks like that. Otherwise, actually attending the meeting will be our main purpose. And while I’m well prepared to take notes on this event, we probably won’t even have a say in anything going on. Before you know it, we’ll be heading back on the long road home. So don’t burn yourself out getting too excited.” Spike tried to hide his disappointment with a shrug, “Yeah, I guess.” He carefully planned a pause before asking, “Hey Twilight? Do you still go by Sarah?” Twilight snapped back, “Don’t call me that,” Spike was caught offguard, “Wha-“ “I told you. Don’t call me that.” “What? Why’s that so wrong? You can call me by my name. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought that since we’re family and all-“ “I’m sorry Spike, but I gave that name up a long time ago. When we came here, we were given a name and a designation, just like anyone else. For all they know, I have always been Twilight, just as you’ve always been Spike.” Twilight cut Spike off before he had a chance to speak. “-And besides, hearing that name merely brings up some bad memories.” He hesitated to ask. “Like what?” Twilight couldn’t hide her pained grimace. She sat down on the edge of her bed, her throat seizing as the memories trickled through. She recalled Sunday mornings, when the rays of sunlight would warm their bare feet as they kicked in anticipation for breakfast. The air was always heavy with the tantalizing scent of pancakes and mom’s steaming mug of Earl Grey tea. Yet after many distant years, the memory had grown faint to the point of being foreign; every time, something was different, and it was all wrong. Twilight sat silently, struggling to remember the details of her mother’s face. All things fade, whether they deserve to or not. Spike could feel his sister’s pain resonate in his chest. He couldn’t stand seeing her like that. He sat with her on the bed, resting his head on her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. A comforting silence came between them. An old piece of paper slid out from the boy’s pocket. Its body was creased with years of openings and its corners were ragged and dog-eared, but every tear had been carefully mended with a tapestry of tape and glue. The ink of the pen had begun to fade, yet he refused to part with it. At every exam, promotion, and ceremony that she would never attend, he kept this note in his shirt pocket, closest to his heart. While he was pretty sure she had forgotten about it, he always knew that she would never forget him. A simple note told him so.