JUST DESSERTS

It wasn't just Milo. Rivra, Krol, and pretty much every other guard and soldier standing within viewing distance of this strange spectacle, the fierce, merciless Scrapster King hugging his long-lost daughter, tears streaming down his face, didn't know what to make of it. A few of the warriors coughed, their armor clinked as they shifted uncomfortably. Milo feared even breathing would draw attention from the massive King, but Rivra looked the most shocked, her mouth slightly agape. Her muscles twitched as she refused to return her father's hug. Or, rather, she couldn't, as her father's arms were pinned her own against her body.

Eventually, the King pulled away from his daughter and looked into her face. His eyes still flowed with tears like an oil leak. He swallowed hard as he gave the bandanna covering her eyes a hard look. "So, it is true," he said. "You have lost your eyes. The Eyes of God."

This seemed to snap Rivra out of whatever trance she had been under, and she shrugged her father off, puffing out her chest and planting her hands on her hips. "Yes. They were stolen from me. But that doesn't mean you can treat me like a child."

Milo winced at her tone. He thought for sure the King would lash out. Daughter or not, the King certainly looked like he would kill someone for breathing wrong in his direction. Instead, the King's tears flowed even more freely, snot now dribbling from his nose and joining the river of tears on his face. "B-but! My little apple! I've missed so many years! So many memories we haven't made! Your first boyfriend! Your first date! Your second boyfriend because I killed the first one for not being good enough!"

Krol scratched his beard. "Y-you didn't care about any of those things with me, father."

"Not now, Krol, I'm catching up with your sister. My little apple! Why don't you introduce me to this…uh…who is this, anyway?" The King had turned his black eyes on Milo, and Milo could feel all of the muscles in his body harden like stone. "I can certainly smell you all over him…does that mean…is this puny lifeform…?" A murderous look grew in the King's eyes, and Milo swallowed hard.

"M-my name is Milo Moody, your majesty." Milo bowed, hoping he didn't just violate any intergalactic cultures. "Rivra is my…mentor. She's the best fighter I've ever seen, so she's been training me to make me stronger."

The King's eyes lit up, and for the first time since he had shown up, a big smile crossed his face. "Is that so?! That's excellent to hear! My daughter is the finest warrior in the universe! Of course she would never accept someone as puny as you as her lover!"

Milo kept his head bowed, mostly because he didn't want the sting from the King's words to show on his face. He chuckled. "N-no, sir, of course not. I am…unworthy of that."

Rivra turned her head toward Milo, but turned back toward her father and cleared her throat. "Father. We aren't here just to visit. I know who you have here, and we won't leave until—"

The King wrapped his arm around her shoulders and turned her to face the mob of warriors. "Men! My daughter has returned! Today is a great day! We shall feast and drink and be merry! Then we'll do it all again tomorrow! And for each day of the week! We shall call this week of celebration Rivrakoth, after my beautiful little apple!"

Applause and cheers erupted from the crowd of soldiers as they dropped their weapons and crowded around them, jostling and rooting like frat boys on a Friday night. Milo was swept up in a sea of thick, tree-trunk legs and rank, unshowered musk. He bounced between a few of them like a pinball, his head spinning, his danger sense vaguely prickling as one of the giant legs was preparing to unknowingly trample him. But a pair of arms swooped in and carried him to safety outside of the crowd.

Krol set Milo down and grinned at him. "Close call there, eh, little buddy?"

"Oh, Krol. Thank you. Thought I was going to die there for a second."

"What? You, die? You're too tough!" He smacked him on the back, and Milo stumbled forward with a loud gasp. Krol flinched, rubbing the back of his neck.

Milo looked back to the crowd swarming Rivra and her father. But he couldn't see her at all, swallowed by the Maas of armored soldiers. He stared down at his hands, a dull ache blooming in his head, wrapping around his brow like a headband. Closing his eyes, he found himself in that room with white walls.

Except there was now a window in one of the walls. He staggered toward the window and peered out through it.

Stretched before him lay a starry expanse. And across the way, Rivra's massive body drifted through the void. Milo reached out to her, but as quickly as he had laid eyes on her form, her body sank into darkness, disappearing from view.

Milo opened his eyes, and the pain in his head vanished.

Krol patted his shoulder. "Hey, Milo. You okay?"

Milo licked his lips, staring off into the distance. "Yeah. It's nothing."

***

Some of the soldiers were ordered to put out the fire on the ship, and they constructed a barrier around the wreckage to ensure privacy from curious passersby. A promise was made to Rivra and Milo that Faith would be left alone on the ship, though Tereine and Albany were invited to join in the festivities. Understandably, Rivra and Milo were confused as to why the King would treat members of the Herald's crew so cordially. He waved one of his great hands.

"There is only one member of the crew I have a problem with. And I will deal with her later. So, unless any of you choose to become a problem, I will view you as friends of my precious little apple." He pinched Rivra's cheek, and she groaned.

"I'm thirty-three, father. Please stop treating me like a child."

"Don't deny your father the joy of coddling his daughter! After all, it's been over twenty years since you were kidnapped!"

"I wasn't kidnapped. I went of my own accord. Didn't you read my letter?"

"Oh, I figured you were forced to write that! By that horrid Chuelean woman!"

Watching their verbal ping pong match as they sauntered down the hall made both Krol and Milo roll their eyes, though for completely different reasons. They were headed toward the dining hall, where a great feast was awaiting them. Already, Milo could smell a savory mix of aromas wafting through the air toward him. Albany's nose was also turned up to the air, taking in the scents. "Oh, roasted Scrapster boar? What an interesting blend of spices…"

Milo squinted at her. "You can…tell that from here?"

Albany nodded. "I have cooked under many teachers, on many different planets! I have the most refined palette in the universe!"

Tereine chuckled. "Aye, that's the truth. Albany can damn near recreate any meal from only sight and taste alone."

A faint blush reddened her cheeks as she shrugged. "I'm not that good, Tereine. But thank you for the compliment."

"You know, I agree with Tereine on this one," Krol said. "Some of the Scrapster-inspired dishes you've made have been just like what Mother used to make!"

Albany tilted her head up at Krol. "Oh? Really? Come to think of it, Krol, I've never heard you or Rivra mention your mother before."

Krol chuckled, rubbing his arm. "That's because she died when we were both really young. But I still remember her cooking."

Albany nodded. "Nothing compares to a home cooked meal. Especially if it's your mother's cooking. I'm sorry to hear that, though. Rivra's never mentioned it before."

"Rivra had other things to worry about. Namely, being the target of many unwanted grooms. Being seen as this delicate, precious little thing that had to be protected, despite the fact that she's the strongest in all the universe."

Milo looked ahead, to where Rivra and her father were talking amongst themselves. (Rivra's mom was missing from her life. It reminds me of my father. But…her father is almost the complete opposite of my mother. She wanted nothing to do with me. And her father seems so warm toward her.)

He could hear the King's words bouncing in his head: ("Of course she would never accept someone as puny as you as her lover!")

(But maybe that's where the similarities end.)

***

The dining hall was filled with the clatter of dishes, the slurping of mead, and the chewing and crunching of several roasted and fried delicacies. Milo relied on Krol and Albany's suggestions, as a lot of the food, while smelling delicious, looked quite foreign to him. The four of them were seated on either side of the King and Rivra. Another woman, one Milo had never seen before, sat between the King's left side and Milo's right. She wore her hair in a high bun, her lips drawn tight, as if she had just sucked on a lemon. He assumed she was someone important, considering she sat next to the King, but Milo also noticed that Krol had elected to take the seat furthest away from this woman, and whenever Krol looked over to talk to Milo, he would obviously ignore the Scrapster woman, acting as if she wasn't there. Milo was certain about one thing: the woman put off a vibe that made his skin crawl, as if any moment she would lash out and criticize him for not holding his fork correctly or for chewing too loudly or for just existing.

The King driveled on and on about how beautiful his daughter had become, how she would make a beautiful bride for some lucky Scrapster man, how she would produce a worth heir so she wouldn't have to worry about being a ruler. Rivra played with her food, eating very little. Milo could tell she would rather not be here, would rather be anywhere else, in fact, but for some reason she wasn't putting up much resistance to her father's inane babbling. The King, on the other hand, acted as if Rivra had never left. As if she were still that little girl with the beautiful rainbow eyes. The Eyes of God, they were called.

After a while, when most everyone was drunk and full on food that seemed to keep coming, the King stood from his seat, and cleared his throat. "As you all know, today is the wondrous first day of my daughter's return! I raise this toast in honor of her and her future husband, who will no doubt bear me an heir worthy enough to take the throne!"

Raucous and drunk cheering echoed off the walls as pints of mead and beer were sloshed around. Albany shrieked when one of the Scrapsters next to her poured half of his mug onto her. Milo reached for several handkerchiefs and started patting Albany dry. The mania coursing through the drunk warriors pitched ever upward, and Milo started looking for an escape route before they got caught up in the chaos of a bunch of drunk giants.

The King turned to his daughter, patting her on the shoulder. "Is there anything you would like say, my little apple? It's been so long, surely you have something you'd like to say to your people!"

Rivra took a deep breath, rose slowly from her seat, and with one, smooth motion, she clenched her first and swung, catching her father right in the gut. A powerful burst of wind burst from her punch, sending her father skidding backwards several feet from the table, until his gigantic frame crashed into the wall. Debris and dust rained down from the ceiling as the whole hall shook.

The cheering and merry-making died. Total silence hung over everyone. A single plate fell from the table and shattered on the ground. Milo stared at Rivra wide-eyed, his mouth open. Across the way, Krol and Tereine stood, and Krol ran to his sister's side. "Riv, what are you doing?" he whispered. "That's our father!"

She pulled away from him and stepped toward the King. But the woman sitting next to Milo jumped from her seat and blocked Rivra's bath. A steely glint in her eyes told Milo this could only end one way. He looked behind him and saw the less-drunk rabble rousers were reaching for whatever they could get their hands on to fight with, their eyes locked onto their princess.

A loud laugh split the air, and everyone looked over at the King, who pulled himself from the wall, brushing the dust from his bulging arms. "My, that was quite a punch! You've grown so strong! I'm so proud of you, my little apple."

Rivra scowled. "Enough of this nonsense, Father!" She stomped her right foot, and the entire hall shook, causing everyone, including the King of Scrapsters, to stumble. "Even after so long, you continue to treat me like I'm a precious item to be protected! You refuse to see the facts in front of you. I am Rivra, Princess of the Scrapsters. And I am the strongest warrior in the whole universe." She pointed a finger at him. "And I hereby invoke Mortera."

Gasps escaped from half of the hall, while child-like 'oooohs' whooped from the other half. Milo couldn't count the wide-eyed and slack-jawed stares all around him. Krol's face had gone pale as he grabbed Rivra by the arm. "Riv, you can't actually mean that!"

The sour-looking woman stepped up to Rivra. "Child, do you know what you say? To invoke Mortera means death for either you or your father."

Rivra didn't even turn her head toward the woman. "Yes, Urteh. I'm well aware. But I can't sit by and let this charade continue. Not while you plan to execute my sister."

The King's face scrunched. "Sister? You don't have a sister."

"Captain Lucianna, the Pirate Queen." Rivra pounded her chest as she spoke. "She is my sister and dear friend. And I will not leave until she is safe and sound."

Urteh's eyes widened. "This is preposterous! Who do you think—"

"So be it."

Another hush fell among the hall, as everyone, including Urteh, turned toward the King. He hung his head, his eyes staring at the floor. "If you so desire Mortera, then I, King of the Scrapsters, cannot refuse." He raised his head, his face blank. "We will fight in the arena, at the end of this week."

"On one condition. You leave Lucianna alone until after our fight."

Urteh's face turned dark as she wheeled on Rivra. "Enough with your demands!"

The King grunted. "Fine. We will not execute her until after our match concludes. You may visit her, if you like. Since she's so precious to you." He spat these last words, before exiting the hall, leaving everyone in an awkward silence.

Urteh shook her head. "I hope you're pleased with yourself, Rivra. How do you expect to win against your father? The strongest King to ever sit on the throne?"

"He might be the strongest to sit on the throne. But I am stronger still. Even without my eyes, victory will be mine."

***

Kristiel whistled loudly as she did her hair in the reflection of a little pocket mirror. It had taken her a bit, after Rivra and Lucianna had messed it up in their fight, but she finally had the perfect volume, just the right amount of sheen in her purplish-blue curls. She gave her reflection a little kiss and a wink. "My, my, don't you look stunning, today! What do you think, Luci?"

In the prison cell just behind her, Lucianna sat, head bowed, against the wall. Kristiel snapped her mirror shut and sauntered toward her cousin. "Oh, what's the matter? Cat got your tongue? Or have you finally started to feel guilt for your crimes?"

She frowned a bit when Lucianna continued to ignore her, and Kristiel slammed her hand into the bar. "Hey. Look at me when I'm tormenting you." She lifted her hand, her energy flowing out of it, slithering in tendrils toward Lucianna. But Lucianna's own energy ballooned out around her, repelling Kristiel's power like swatting away a fly. Kristiel harrumphed. "Fine, then. Your willpower might be too much for me right now. But, soon…"

The doors behind her whooshed open, and heavy footsteps entered behind her.

"There has been a complication."

Kristiel huffed. "What do you mean?"

"The King has delayed Lucianna's execution. Which means we cannot proceed with our plan until then."

She wheeled around, her eyes wide. "What? Why? Didn't he really want to see her dead?"

Urteh crossed her arms, a smile on her lips. "It is a minor inconvenience. But I believe this will work out in our favor. But we should probably speak of this elsewhere." She nodded her head in the direction of Lucianna, who was now looking up at them, listening.

Kristiel grunted. "Yeah, she is good at spoiling things." She gave her cousin an obnoxious little finger wave. "Don't have too much fun by yourself, Luci. I'll be back in a bit!"

The door whooshed shut and clicked lock. Lucianna heaved a sigh as she curled her legs in toward her chest. She thought about trying to pull on that bond again, to see if maybe Milo was nearby, but she shook her head. "No. It's better this way. Let him forget about me. I've caused so much trouble for everyone. It's time I accept my punishment."