M. L. Wang
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MUSE OF ECHOES Chapter 3
🕑 Added 2025-08-19 16:23:40 +0000 UTCHi Patrons!
Here's the third chapter of Muse of Echoes! As always, this is a rough draft, so please forgive the inevitable typos and inconsistencies.
You can find the previous chapter here, and I'll be updating the masterpost with new chapters as they drop.
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MUSE OF ECHOES
Chapter 3
TEN YEARS AGO
Planet Aurin
Upper Mantle
Subterranean Medium Security Holding
Cell Block 5
Reeva’s aura buzzed with anticipation—a bright bubbling like spring water pumping from her heart to ripple across her skin—as she followed her senior Volta down the hall between holding cells.
Normally venturing so deep beneath the planet’s crust had a claustrophobic effect, putting Reeva on edge, but after a few dozen trips to medium security, she was starting to get used to it. The occupied cells were obscured, forcefield doors set to opaque, shutting off any view of the prisoners inside. Whatever monsters paced an raged behind those doors were not Reeva’s concern; her purpose was still ahead.
“Careful with this one,” Captain Shoma Yvani threw over her shoulder, sensing the overexcitement radiating from her teammate. “She’s dangerous.”
“I know,” Reeva said, “but I’ve worked on powerful Volta before.” This included beings far beyond her on the voltage scale, and she’d had no problem reading them. With her soft touch, she’d still found the beating heart of motivation under the artifice.
“Never a Xin Volta and more importantly, never another mind Volta,” Captain Shoma said. “You should know from watching the effect you have on others: you little suckers can be unbalancing.”
Reeva grinned at the compliment.
“Easy there, rookie,” Captain Shoma said, as always, too proud to show affection. But the joke was on her; Reeva had touched her captain’s shimmering dark skin before. She knew how much Shoma cared behind the hard exterior she so carefully maintained. “Be smart, keep your head on straight, and guard your soul.”
That was what no one seemed to understand about Reeva’s power: It diminished when she was guarded and it had nothing to do with being smart. It was uncontrolled, her heart and brain and every firing synapse pressed up against someone else. It was like putting your ear to someone’s chest to hear their heartbeat and instead of stopping there just pressing harder, sinking deeper, until you fell right into them. If she tried to close herself off from emotion, she didn’t get the read she needed. Everything came through fuzzy. Letting herself sigh, and scream, and cry with her subjects was all part of the process—and it was why she could reach people in a way no other Volta could. It was why Captain Shoma was bringing such a young interrogator to this cell where several more powerful Volta had failed.
Captain Shoma had come to a stop at their destination: Temporary Cell 147.
The holographic text that dropped down from the cell number was all info Reeva had already committed to memory, but she skimmed it anyway just to steel herself.
Prisoner #: 98732
Voltage: 5,600
Name: Echo
Age: 17
Offense: Xin terrorism
Danger: moderate
‘Moderate’ of course referred to the danger this prisoner presented to Aurin as a whole. For Reeva, if they were to meet in the open field, the danger would be ‘high.’ ‘Extremely high.’
At a gesture from Captain Shoma, the dimming and sound-dampening fields of the cell dropped, leaving only a transparent forcefield between them and the prisoner.
Echo the Accuser sat cross-legged at the center of the featureless box of a room, her eyes closed, disheveled hair falling nearly to the floor around her. As the darkness of the cell brightened with the light from the hall, her eyes opened. And Reeva clumsily swallowed a gasp.
Echo’s people were known for those eyes—ghost eyes, people called them, because their particular shade of blue threaded with white created the illusion that one was looking into a realm beyond the living. Souls floating in cold limbo.
It’s just pigmentation, Reeva reminded herself, an adaptation to cave crystal lights, like the hue of her skin. No scientific evidence to suggest that it had anything to do with spirits, magic, or anything beyond human understanding.
When the lights came up, prisoners usually scrambled to their feet to back away or to face the threat. Echo stood, but not like the others had. This was neither a challenge nor a retreat. This was Argenterra’s moon gently rising over Lake Ram by Reeva’s childhood home. Distant, ice-cold, and inevitable.
At seventeen, Echo was considerably taller than just-turned-sixteen-year-old Reeva. That was alright. Most of the people Reeva had interrogated were bigger than she was. And no matter how Captain Shoma went on about the appearance of strength, intimidation had no bearing on the way Reeva worked.
As Echo’s gaze swept past Shoma to rest on Reeva, Reeva’s aura noticeably brightened. The second those eyes were on her she couldn’t wait to press closer, get her hands on this one, feel her, find out more.
“Easy, rookie,” Captain Shoma reminded Reeva quietly before striding forward.
The forcefield recognized the auras of two Aurin Volta, letting Shoma and Reeva pass through without resistance where a Xin Volta would be violently repelled if she tried the same thing.
She didn’t try. She also didn’t step back when Captain Shoma approached. That was the thing that stood out to Reeva. Most Xin would look at a Yvani, note the Auring on their forehead that could shoot an all-piercing laser, and stiffen all over—at least take a tiny step back. This one didn’t even twitch, though she undoubtedly knew Shoma could end her life without so much as blinking.
“Captain Shoma Yvani,” Echo said, impassive but perfectly polite.
“Xin,” Shoma said, returning none of the respect. Lifting a hand, she snapped her fingers, prompting a table and chairs to spring from the flex dust that formed the cell floor.
Again, Echo didn’t flinch. Reeva needed to get in there, figure out how this seventeen-year-old Xin Volta had cultivated a calm exterior as impenetrable as Captain Shoma’s. What sort of emotion was it made of? What did it taste like?
“Have a seat?” Echo guessed with a look at Captain Shoma,
“Please.”
Echo slid into the chair on her side of the table, which had the intended effect of making her appear smaller before the two Aurin Volta, who remained standing.
“This is a Volta from my own squad,” Captain Shoma addressed Echo. “She will be your interviewer today and for as long as my superiors deem necessary. Do as she says, don’t give her trouble, and we won’t have a problem. Understood?”
“Understood, Captain Yvani,” said Echo. Placid. Inscrutable.
Giving Reeva any last advice or telling her ‘good luck’ would have betrayed a lack of confidence in front of the prisoner, so Captain Shoma didn’t. She turned and exited the forcefield without another word.
And like that, Reeva was alone with the Xin Volta, no barrier between her and those eyes like lakes of souls.
Captain Shoma would have wanted Reeva to stay standing as she rounded on the prisoner. Loom, intimidate. That’s the only way to get someone on their back foot.
Reeva sat.
“I—um—” UM? Reeva had given some version of this speech a dozen times to a dozen different prisoners before and she had never stumbled quite like this. Um? Vaguely unbalanced, she muttered, “Sorry.”
Sorry!? SORRY!? Reeva, get a grip!
“That’s alright,” the Xin said impassively. “Take your time.”
Reeva felt her cheeks color and cleared her throat.
“So…” she restarted after a breath. “You probably know why I’m here, but for the sake of this interview, I need to review with you.”
“Of course,” said Echo.
She was being smug on purpose, feigning total calm and amusement, figuring she could get under Reeva’s skin. That was fine. Reeva’s own emotion didn’t affect her reading. The Xin could do anything she wanted—including getting under Reeva’s skin—so long as Reeva got to read her while she was doing it. This was the miscalculation a lot of prisoners made—although this one should know better. As a mind Volta herself, she should know that a pair of dazzling eyes and a placid expression wouldn’t save her deeper secrets.
“You’re currently the highest-ranked Xin Volta in custody who we know to have been operating in the Neftarin System,” Reeva pressed on with her prepared script. “We know there are at least two bases within that system and we know that, as a captain, you’ll know where those bases are.” She paused, giving Echo a chance to confirm or deny the claim—verbally or otherwise. Echo didn’t take it. Perfect poker face. That was fine. “Per Aurin’s code of ethics, my superiors and I want to minimize harm to all parties.”
This prompted the first emotional reaction from Echo. A derisive exhale through the nose, as quiet as it was brief.
Reeva went on, “Aurin would prefer to extract the locations of the Neftari Moon bases without causing you physical damage or emotional distress. That’s why I’m here.”
“You’re a mind Volta, then?” Echo’s knife-slash eyebrows lifted slightly.
“Yes.”
“Me too.”
“I know.”
“Touch-based?” asked the Xin.
“Yes.”
“Me too.”
“I know,” Reeva said. Although according to Echo’s file, the similarities between her powers and Reeva’s ended there. Where skin-to-skin contact allowed Reeva to experience another person’s emotions, Echo’s insight was visual. She saw whatever the other saw in their mind’s eye—relatively ineffective on people with aphantasia but near-perfect on everyone else. “I read about your aptitude.”
“Ah.” Those pale ghost eyes squinted ever so slightly in interest. “So, your people did finally figure out how my mind aptitude works. Took them long enough.”
“You read visual memories,” Reeva said. Aurin had arrived at this conclusion based on Echo’s history extracting faces, locations, even sensitive written information from the heads of the Aurin Volta she encountered. All told, she was responsible for at least thirty deaths on the Aurin side, simply by relaying the information she had learned.
“So we know all about each other’s soft aptitudes,” Echo said. “Do I get to know your name?”
Oops. Reeva was supposed to have opened with that; it had just gotten lost somewhere in those ghost eyes. “I’m Reeva.”
“Pleasure, Reeva. I’m—”
“Echo,” Reeva cut the Xin off; keep control of the interaction. “Echo the Accuser. I know.”
“Of course you do,” Echo folded her hands on the table in front of her and leaned forward like something in Reeva’s face interested her. “But do you know why they call me that?”
Shoot. Was Reeva supposed to know that? Careful to keep her expression neutral, she mentally flipped through all the reading she had done in preparation for the interrogation. No. If Aurin had any info on the source of Echo’s name—or the sinister title that came with it—that hadn’t made it into her file.
“Ah.” A slow smile turned the corner of Echo’s mouth, and Reeva realized she had made a mistake. Although what kind of mistake, she wasn’t sure. “So, for all you Aurin Volta have deduced about my mind aptitude, you don’t know how I move in combat.”
“What?” It was true, but how had Echo figured that out? All Reeva had given her was a beat of awkward silence; what was so telling about that?
“If you knew my combat aptitude, there would be no mystery around the name.”
“Well—it doesn’t matter,” Reeva said as callously as she could. Regardless of how well Echo’s combat aptitude served her out in the field, it wouldn’t be a danger here. The charged air of the cell itself would render her unconscious the moment she even started to power up. Most prisoners here decided they’d had enough after that first taste of the floor. “In case no one’s warned you, your combat magic won’t do you any good here.” In fact, none of the Xin Volta’s powers were a danger here, Reeva reminded herself with a steely glare across the table. Even Echo’s mind aptitude was not threat when she had no way to escape and therefore no way to pass info along to her allies.
“Of course,” Echo said. One angular shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Just making an observation. But I’m sure you’re keen to get started.” Leaning forward once again, she offered her hands.
Surprised, Reeva blinked and the better part of her twitched to touch them.
“If it’s not too awkward,” said the Xin.
Don’t, Captain Shoma would have warned. Stand. Hand on the back of the prisoner’s neck. Even if your magic works the same either way, you need to keep yourself in a position of power.
But the thing was that people closed up when you loomed behind them. Everything in them slammed shut with a touch to the neck—not that Reeva would have minded the excuse to touch that silken hair, brush it aside with the back of her hand, feel the skin beneath… But her power worked best this way, face to face, heart to heart, hand in hand… and the hands were right there. Relaxed. Pale brown palms open in invitation.
Reeva scooted forward and, with a last steeling breath, took Echo’s hands in her own.
The initial impression was not immediately overwhelming. Not like some personalities, which sank Reeva like a freshwater lake in summer.
Echo was calm, spiritually cool to the touch, just like her skin. A frozen lake, as wide as it was inaccessible. But again, that was alright. Reeva knew how to dig. Eyes fluttering closed to shut out distraction, she began feeling her way across that lake, searching for the hairline cracks, the bubbles of trapped air, the movement of deeper emotions beneath the smooth pane of ice.
Immediate sensations were always the easiest for Reeva to pick up. These were the white bubble spirals closest to the surface. Echo was trying not to think about a sharp pain in her side and a duller, more sprawling pain in her thigh. The injuries were a nagging distraction in Echo’s mind; they made her feel a little permeable, a little physically vulnerable, but these thoughts were more an irritation than true anguish. The real distress was deeper—not white and light and full of air but dark… oh so dark…
The twinge of physical pain reminded Echo of something further back in her life, harder impact, the sting of unbearable judgment. The kind that could only come from parents or parental adults—the sort of figure that could dominate a child’s entire mind and consequently break it into pieces. Something from those memories had stretched and mutated in a searing misery…
This was when Reeva became cognizant that Lake Echo, as wide as the surface spanned, was not half as wide as it was deep. It had to be deep—the ice had to be thick—to contain the massive darkness stirring below. Most prisoners in Aurin’s cells had more hurt in them than the average person. Most of them kept it down under an imperfect layer of rage or determination. Buried deeper than pain, there would be fear. Deep enough in any person, there was always fear. But Echo’s was so vast it occupied nearly the whole of her being yet never disturbed the surface. Such was the power of her will.
Reeva couldn’t get a clear feel on the darkness through that icy willpower. She couldn’t taste its nuances. But whatever notes of grief or pain threaded through it, to Echo, the darkness was as big as the Kiloverse itself—an absolute that touched every corner of existence.
Just the shadow of it shook Reeva. It made her want to cry, but Echo didn’t shake. Her soul was mirror-smooth beneath the moonlight.
Reeva’s eyes opened and she saw the Xin Volta anew—an immaculate soldier. Resilient beyond comprehension. Radiant.
Echo’s hands jerked back, making Reeva start.
“Oh…” Reeva looked across the table and felt her brow furrow as she took in Echo’s expression—shocked. “Is… something wrong?” she asked, momentarily forgetting that she was dealing with a dangerous Xin Volta.
“No,” Echo said faintly, looking as disoriented as Reeva for the first time in the interaction. “You just shook me.”
Shook. Not just surprised. “I shook you?” That didn’t seem right. All Echo’s fears were so skillfully contained in the deep of that lonely lake.
“Yes.” The only sign that Echo was unsettled were her ice-shard brows, drawn in consideration over those magic eyes. “I saw something I didn’t expect.”
“What?” Reeva almost laughed. “Yourself?” Because Echo’s face had been the only thing in front of her. It had certainly been the only thing on Reeva’s mind.
“Yes.” Echo rubbed one hand over the other. Then, in a rare moment of vulnerability, she broke eye contact. “I guess I didn’t realize I’d gotten so thin.” A pause; a single dark finger fidgeted on the table before she made it still. “I look weaker than I thought.”
That was strange because all Reeva had felt with Echo’s skin on hers was strength. Strength Reeva had never known in the face of darkness Reeva had never known.
Had Echo seen Reeva’s hunger even then? Had she registered how much the younger girl admired her poise and power? Had she realized, as early as that first interrogation, that she could use those feelings?
Whatever Echo’s thoughts, she turned her hands over once again, and Reeva took them.
Comments
Virginia McClain
Love this!
