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I hate her, I hate her, I absolutely hate her.

 

She looks so at home here, on my kitchen counter, she's literally on the surface of my kitchen counter, putting her butt right next to my containers of sliced fruit. Ugh, I put my food where she's sitting, god forbid the Elara Espresion acts like a normal person and sits in a chair.

 

She's perched like a cat. One knee tucked under an elbow as one hand holds a bowl and the other is adding an obscene amount of sugar to it which was enough to knock out a toddler.

 

There is a feigned nonchalance around her like she is forcing herself to be comfortable in this space. Her eyes darting and wary track my movements with a predatory gaze. Knowing her, she probably already clocked all the exit and entry points of my apartment and probably chose the kitchen counter for the advantage of higher ground as a defensible position should a situation arise that would require it.

 

Old habits die hard I guess. That's not the only thing that dies hard around here. 

 

Seeing her, Elara here in my kitchen at 7:00 am on a Friday morning is enough to give a headache. I thought that if I ever saw her again, I wouldn't know what to feel, but nope, right now at this very moment I am feeling the undeniable pit of anger taking root in my stomach.

 

"Good morning, " I say in a clipped tone, passing by her and heading to my cupboard to fix myself up a bowl of cereal.

 

"Good morning, " she says back in the low and tentative way that a child does when they're not sure if they're going to be chastised by their parent or not. It's funny. She technically outranks me.

 

I turn to look at her and she meets my gaze. The evidence of her time spent away is obvious. Her hair is longer and even with the triplet suns as her backlight it is not as luminous and her eyes don't have that same manic energy that they exuded from longing for the thrill of the chase, searching for adrenaline. In short, Elara Espresion looked tired. But her smile, she smiles at me as if she saw me just yesterday and I have to look away.

 

I still absolutely hate her. Absolutely. 

 

The blooming anger in my stomach is still most definitely there. Yes sir, no bright and joyous smile she throws my way will be able to change that. I steel myself into focusing on the task at hand. I pull a bowl and spoon from my kitchen cabinet.

 

"So how have you been lately?" She continued behind me, "You seem. . .  fine."

 

I hum noncommittally, it's the least she deserves after quite literally ghosting me for so long.

 

I pour the milk into the bowl and I can practically feel Elara grimacing behind me, she's always said I was a psychopath for putting milk before cereal but I'm not the one with a kill count well into the triple digits. I open my pantry to get my container of Space Crunch Cereal?,  the one with five hundred million different preservatives and so many added artificial flavorings that it gives the taste of something that cannot possibly be found in nature.

 

But it is empty. Pantry: empty. Space Crunch Cereal?: missing.

 

I turn around. And there it is! My cereal container, so innocently placed next to Elara, she takes a crunchy slurp from her breakfast before putting it down next to her and it was in that moment that I knew what she had been eating in that bowl.

 

I can't believe I actually thought I might be able to forgive her, after everything. The budding anger in my stomach has now sprouted into fully formed white hot rage.

 

She mistakes my silence for pensive thought.

 

"So you aren't mad?" She asks tentatively.

 

"Mad? Mad?? MAD?? You bust into my apartment, eat my entire supply of my FAVORITE cereal and this is after you faked your death for SIX WHOLE MONTHS! OF COURSE I'M MAD!!"

 

And without really thinking about it, I lunge.

 

____________________________________________________

 

I remember the first time I met Elara. I was a respected operative working in the field moving through the ranks faster than anyone in the history of the Central Earth Military Intelligence Agency or CEMIA, working in the special operations division of intergalactic affairs.

 

Of course that caused a number of cold shoulders to be thrown my way, more than enough people thought that the only reason I accelerated so fast within the agency was because I was the former deputy director's grandson.

 

Name: Polaris North

Known Organization Affiliations: Central Earth Military Intelligence Agency (CEMIA)

Status: Senior Agent

Clearance Level: Diamond

Notable Skills: Proficiently speaks 14 languages with six planetary dialects, poisons specialist, and knife throwing master

 

It was a dicey time in politics, several of the other Terran Planet Nations were experiencing civil strife and economic downturn, add some government mismanagement to that and you got yourself a perfect recipe for interplanetary corporatized crime.

 

I was on Estrellita, the capital city of Jupiter's moon Ganymede, looking for some intel on an illegal commerce cartel from the marias of Mars selling everything from artificially synthesized baby dinosaurs that could fit in the palm of your hand to unethically grown pears. 

 

Scoping the city scene on a busy downtown street, there she was, looking at ancient typewriters in a vintage civilizations antique store. Our eyes caught one another's across the street and I decided to take a break from casing the joint and make some polite conversation with her.

 

It was either the best thing I've ever done in my life or the worst mistake I've ever made in my entire career. I still don't know.

 

From then on it was a whirlwind. We talked, we chatted a little bit, she somehow spotted my official CEMIA issued identification badge, I spotted her class three illegal laser firearm, and then she proceeded to clock over the head with the figurine of a green lady dressed in robes wearing a pointy crown and fled.

 

"Hey! You're gonna have to pay for that!" I called after her.

 

I guess you could say it was the beginning of an illustrious friendship.

 

____________________________________________________

 

Present Time: 10 minutes and 5 seconds C. S. R. A. (After Cereal Stolen Realization)

 

"Polaris? So uh, you're really not mad right?"

 

____________________________________________________

 

5 seconds C. S. R. A. (After Cereal Stolen Realization)

 

Lunging forward, we fell back into our old habits. I was right, her sitting on top of my kitchen counter was a good defense tactic, definitely taking advantage of the high ground.

 

Name: Elara Espresion

Alias(es): Orion

Known Organization Affiliations: Amazon Cartel, Mercado Market Syndicate, The Manila Mob

Skills: sniper of pin-point accuracy, proficient space freighter pilot, master of arnis fighting sticks

Other Notable Information: Graduated top of her class at Palawan Academy (*cough cough* that's basically an assassin/spy school), highest paid contract mercenary in the galaxy, and she's Elara Espresion, enough said

 

Needless to say it was a challenging fight. 

 

I used my broad shoulders to box her in but her agility got the better of me. She easily evaded my punches and strikes as she threw her empty cereal bowl at me.

 

Crash! Shards of ceramic scattered all over the apartment floor.

 

"Oh you are so cleaning that up!"

 

"Okay but tell me first, are you more upset that I let you believe that I was dead for six months? Or is it because I finished all of your precious cereal?"

 

"Yes!" I exclaimed.

 

I got a hit on her collarbone but she almost got me right in the Crown Jewels and no, I don't mean the stolen ones that are currently missing from the Tower of London. I rolled away to get to some more open ground. She moved away from the kitchen counter and we circled each other.

 

After our initial meeting in Estrellita, we just so happen to keep running into each other on missions and assignments. You'd think the spy world consisted of only twelve people with how often it happened.

 

The second time our paths crossed was when I was investigating the disappearance of the previously mentioned English Crown Jewels. The investigation turned out to be a bust but as I was getting back into my hovercraft, something that suspiciously looked like the Sovereign's Orb was just inconspicuously lying in the driver's seat. I might have been imagining it, but I could have sworn that the vehicle now had the faint scent of that same crazy lady that I had encountered in Estrellita.

 

"You know, Valaks told me not to hold a burial service for you. She said that the real Elara Espresion wasn't really dead unless there was a body." Kick. Leg swipe. Evade.

 

"Oh yeah? How's she been?" Punch. Twist. Duck.

 

"Oh you know," I smirked at her really anticipating to savor this moment, "She got a tattoo." Elara's eyes widened into comical circles. "And? we got matching ones."

 

She gasped. "Don't tell me you actually let her do that??"

 

"What can I say? She's 18, an adult and is fully capable of making her own decisions." I shrugged. Trust Elara to be overprotective of her protege that has already taken down several governments. What a mother hen.

 

This time she lunged at me.

 

____________________________________________________

 

10 minutes and 10 seconds C. S. R. A. (After Cereal Stolen Realization

 

I don't think I've ever hated her, and I don't think I ever could. "No, Elara, I'm not mad."

 

Mountains bear cold winds powerful enough to knock strong-abled travelers off their feet and clusters of boulders from their thousand-year-old perches; high cliffs found near oceans are found even more dangerous, as ocean currents bring bushels of raging air to main lands. Yet as Komalia's gaze travelled across a soft grey sky, terns danced among the winds gracefully. Their white bellies helped camouflage them against the clouds, yet when they dove their grey backs and yellow beaks flashed momentarily to remind the young woman she was never alone. As comforting as their sights were, Komalia believed the birds were also an ominous-though helpful-warning sign; the winds were picking up. Tightening her scarf around her nose, Komalia spotted another glass bottle on the beach and rushed forward, breathing a sigh of satisfaction when she saw no shatters or cracks. Once carefully placed into a knitted knapsack, Komalia fetched her walking stick from a small bench crafted... 

 

Almost a year ago. 

 

Komalia blinked in surprise at the thought, looking over at the never-ending waves slithering over dark brown sand. A year of rebuilding the tiny society that is Nova-Juniper Village. Komalia shook her head in amazement, marching forward a few paces and turning a corner to find the tiny dock guarded by Beth and her dog Horus. The older sailor glanced up as Komalia approached, smiling warmly at the young woman; her smile made Komalia feel warm and safe despite the sea's tormenting winds blowing her scarf around. 

 

"Heya there, lassie! Found more coffer's along the beach, I see?"

 

Making sure her eyes crinkled with a smile the young woman opened her bag, showing off some lucky finds; four intact glass bottles, fishing line, seashells of various sizes and a little something that sparked light into Beth's eye. 

 

"Sink me!"

 

Komalia allowed a laugh at Beth's shocked expression as the item was pulled out and handed to her. Horus's tail thumped against the dock's wood as Beth howled a mighty cheer, spinning the long, bronze tube in her hands. 

 

"Blow me down! Seadogs would carry beauties like this one on any ship, darlin'; man-o-war captain's especially, though you could've found these in any old salt's duffle? yes, me days will be less borin' from now on. Been sittin' here for so long I thought I saw a clipper a few days back, reckon I be goin' insane??

 

Beth's eyes scanned the horizon and a sudden sadness bestowed her gaze, her shoulders drooping slightly with a sigh. Horus noted the sudden change of atmosphere and sat up, stretching his old joints before propping a front paw on Beth's thigh. Komalia smiled as Beth gave her usual hearty chuckle, patting the old border terrier's flank. 

 

"Ya old bucko, your spirit is as stubborn as a siren's! Unrelentin' he is..." Beth paused to fiddle with her gift, then smacked her forehead. "Shiver me timbers, get up to your station matey! Sundown summons currents of a buccaneer's nightmare, and thy booty is precious. Vahoy!"

 

Some days Komalia hardly understood anything through Beth's strong lingo, but 'Vahoy' always meant she must hurry back up to the mountainous village. After patting Horus's head, Komalia made her way up the twisting steps back to the village, wondering how Beth managed to bring Horus up to their makeshift lighthouse in the middle of the achingly cold nights. If being in bed with multiple makeshift blankets didn't always mean warmth, she could only imagine being so near the shoreline? especially not so early in spring. Komalia gave a sigh and a quick prayer up to her neighbor Joey who did not make it through this year's winter. Though, quoting his wife, 'There is no time for sitting and mourning; keep his good soul in our hearts and make sure nothing like that will ever happen again.'

 

"Komalia!"

 

Looking up greeted a sight of Florence waving desperately, his hat tumbling down the steps towards her. With a quiet grunt Komalia managed to scoop up the newsboy and wave it above her head gleefully, to which Florence clapped with a whoop.

 

"Saved by the pretty lady once again!" Florence laughed, quickly unscrewing his leg's joint to stand, his belt buckled to a pole stationed near the wind turbine he was working on "Honestly Lia, what would I do without you? First my leg down the stairs, then my wrenches..."

 

Komalia lowered her scarf with a scoff "Don't get me started on that leg of yours; do you even bother replacing the screws?"

 

"Anytime Hobbs finds the right ones." Florence accepted his hat with a wink and snuggled it back on, breathing in deeply as the wind ruffled strands of inky black hair peeking out from his hat's brim. "Yes, we do need the right screws? this piece of scrap metal can only get me so far."

 

Komalia hummed in agreement. "Should I ask Yvon for some scrap metal? About time for a new prosthetic.?

 

?Good idea.? A comfortable pause. ?Find anything useful on the beach??

 

?Some seashells and bottles for Amelia, and fishing line, though I don't know who would need some."

 

"Beth?"

 

Komalia spoke through a grin. "I actually found her a spyglass.?

 

Florence gave a nod, pursing his lips. ?Wow, a spyglass.?

 

?You don't know what that is, do you??

 

?Not exactly. Is that to spy on people??

 

?It's this long tube that lets you see really far away. I had Hobbs fix it up for me, there are a few scratches on the glass part but otherwise everything is intact.?

 

Florence listened along with nods and hums, though before he could answer one tern's high-pitched cry announced her presence before a powerful gust nearly sent Komalia tumbling down the uneven stone stairs. Komalia's left hand immediately grabbed her bag, her mind rushing to the fragile glass bottles. Florence caught her arm before disaster struck, cursing in Romanian as he pulled her against his chest. Komalia attempted to spit some of her brown hair out of her mouth and Florence noticed, quickly brushing it aside for her. 

 

?Get going; I'll meet you for dinner at the Inn.?

 

 ?Good idea,? Komalia muttered, pausing before unraveling her scarf and tucking the knitted length around Florence instead. 

Florence gave her back a pat before turning back to the turbine, a scowl settled onto his forehead as he began poking at gears. Komalia never understood how electricity possibly appeared from wind; all she knew was the process was complicated and took up most of Florence's time. After another minute of walking she found herself walking past a greenhouse overflowing with vegetation, giggling as Patricia leaned against the wall, pushing her bandana higher up to push her afro from her eyes.

 

"If we don't get an early summer I'll have beans sprouting from my ears," she murmured dramatically, smiling when Komalia laughed. "Wanna trade?"

 

"What do you have?"

 

"Red kidney beans and too much lettuce; those bad boys grew over the entire winter."

 

"I've got powdered milk and I can knit you another hairband"

 

"Sold." Patricia rolled her eyes comically as an elderly man's voice called for her from inside the greenhouse. "There's my cue to get dirty again. How long will it take for the hairband?"

 

"About two weeks; I'll use the thick yarn this time, I'll make sure there's more stretchiness."

 

Patricia grinned and flipped up two thumbs before cracking the door open and slipping inside the indoor garden; Komalia felt a wave of warm air hit her and longed to go inside as well, wondering if Mr. Kim would mind if she sat inside and listened to his timeless stories of survival and overcome hardships. If a man can survive a week smuggled in a ship heading to Europe, she could certainly survive without electricity for a few months..

 

Her thoughts were cut off by another strong gust of wind blowing her hair around; she gave a growl, making a mental note to make a few new hairbands for herself as she hurried to her house. She walked past a group of fishermen gutting their catches, Mrs. Julie watching her children run around, a cart of materials being pulled by Hazel and her horse. Life was busy and bustling, and Komalia loved to see everyone keeping one another busy with chores; silence was deafening in this town.

 

"They're back!"

 

So were Jeremy's yells. Komalia flinched, hands flying to pull her bag up as the young teen sprinted past her, beaming.

 

"What are you on about?" Hazel stuttered, pulling the reins of her steed as Jeremy narrowly ran into her.

 

"The foragers are back!" Jeremy got choked up with emotion, and Komalia noticed tears brimming in those wide brown eyes of his. "My dad's back!"

 

Komalia watched as he ran for Elke Hill, and without a second to waste pulled out a clear bottle from her sack to try out her theory. Sure enough, as she glanced through the slim nozzle a blurry group were made out from the gloomy grey backdrop of the mountain. A white horse was very distinguishable from the rocks, and Komalia's hopes soared as she shoved the bottle away.

 

"Jeremy's right! The forager group is back!" Hoping Florence heard her, Komalia began sprinting; she gave a hiccup as someone's hand blocked her from running forward, only to grin breathlessly as Hazel patted at the space behind her.

 

"Hop on!"

 

Taking her hand, Komalia jumped onto her horse and squeaked as Hazel gave a sharp whistle, propelling her steed forward. Komalia noticed how fast they ran and glanced behind them to see the cart left behind. Hazel breathed something under her breath and Komalia could only imagine her excitement; Sugar, the white horse coming clearer into view, had been away from her for a solid three months. The longest expedition the town has ever done, and so far everything seemed successful.

 

With a sharp click, Komalia gripped Hazel's waist as her steed came to an abrupt stop; Hazel glanced behind her, distaste painting her tone. "Too many sharp rocks."

 

Hazel nodded and glanced up the hill, smiling at what she saw. "Don't worry, they're leading Sugar with a lead."

 

"Better be." The huff in her tone made Komalia smile. "I taught Daniel better than riding her downhill."

 

"Daniel..." Komalia murmured, feeling her chest swell with excitement. "Quick, help me down..."

 

Hazel jumped off the horse with ease, allowing a chuckle at how Komalia gripped her shoulders tightly as she was swung off. She patted the horse's flank gently before beginning her track upwards, stuttering as someone shoved her aside.

 

"Dad!" Jeremy sprinted upwards, heaving with sobs as he clambered up the uneven path. Komalia watched in delight as an older man jumped from the cart and made his way down, arms outstretched and practically colliding with his son midway down the slope. Komalia glanced past them and her hopes soared when she saw that familiar, faded green coat.

 

"Ivy!"

 

"Komalia!"

 

Now Komalia ran, wincing as her ankles were twisted awkwardly and scraped by boulders surrounding her; as if heaven blessed the moment, a ray of sunshine peaked from the clouds and illuminated the hillside as a beauty of a woman ran into Komalia's arms, her grin resting against Komalia's skin.

 

"You made it," Komalia gasped, feeling her voice finally become stronger after all these weeks. Ivy pulled away, an amazed smile adorning her freckled face as she caressed Komalia's head, eyes nearly double as wide.

 

"You're actually here..." Ivy looked deep into Komalia's eyes and laughed, giddy. "You're finally in my arms."

 

The two girls enveloped in each other's arms laughed in pure joy, a group of story-clad explorers making their way down to a town awaiting their arrival impatiently. Terns sang their songs of greeting to harmonize with happy cries.