Editing Bleeding Out (Warhammer High) (section)

===A Veiled Insult===

Remilia sat down on the stoop, flipping the vox on and hitting the CID key.  After one ring, her mother snatched up her own vox.  “Remilia!  My god, sweetie!  What happened?!” she gasped into the speaker.

“I lost my shit, what else,” Remilia growled.  Suddenly the opportunity for a peaceful reconciliation was out of reach, it seemed.  “I asked Dad why he never tried to help me get over my problem, if he had done it himself.  He gave me some garbage about strength through adversity.”

“Well…he never wanted you to know about his own history.  He didn’t want to scare you, I think.  Remilia-” she said hesitantly, before Remilia’s curt reply cut her off.

“Bullshit, Mom.  If he had overcome it himself, the very fucking LEAST he could have done was help me do the same.  Like a FATHER.  But nooooo, he just had to threaten me with hospitalization and lecture me about weakness,” Remilia snarled.

Remilia’s mother was quiet for a long moment.  When she spoke again, her voice was tremulous.  “Remilia, sweetheart, I’m sorry he said that.  Can you come home?  I want to talk to you.”

“We’re talking now,” Remilia pointed out.  “And you’re not at home.  I hear the fans in your office.”

“I mean…” the voice on the other end struggled for words.  “I want to talk to you.  How did your presentation go?”

“Aced it, I think,” Remilia said, allowing a brief change of subject.  “Aside from the Calculus test Monday, I’m done.”

“That’s really good to hear, I know you worked hard on it.  Are you…coming home for graduation?”

“Mom, I’m sitting on the stoop of Freya’s mansion, I can see our house from here,” Remilia pointed out.

“Remilia, you essentially told your father that you were leaving indefinitely.  I am well within my rights to be worried sick,” her mother said, a little anger flaring in her voice.

Remilia grimaced.  “Mom, damn it…I’m disappointed enough in this year as it is.  Morticia gets fucking SHOT, I nearly come to blows with Dad…I’ve had enough of the house for a while.  I’ll be home before the road trip, I’m sure.”

“…Road trip?”  Lady Dorn’s voice took on the tones of someone waiting for the other shoe to drop.  “What road trip?”

“I’ve had enough of Terra for a while,” Remilia said.  “I’m going on a vacation with Venus and Freya, and their boyfriends.”

“Oh, well…that sounds fun.  Where?”

“Fenris first, then Nocturne,” Remilia said, privately enjoying the little gasps of surprise her mother made at the names.  “One month of each, then home before school starts.”

“That…Remilia, sweetie, those are Death Worlds,” her mother said, worry replacing anger again.  “You won’t be safe!”

“Out on the plains, maybe, but we’ll be staying in the Fortresses,” Remilia said.  “It’s decided.  We’re leaving in…let’s see…nineteen days.”

“Well…all right.  Is Morticia coming with you?” Lady Dorn asked.

“She can if she wants to, but I suspect that she won’t be up to it,” Remilia said.  She sensed her aggravation fading and tried to redirect the conversation.  “I’ll ask her anyway.”

Lady Dorn squeezed the vox in her hand, trying to find something, anything, that could help to explain what her daughter was trying to do.  She couldn’t.  “Remilia…you know you can talk to me about things, right?”

“When?  Over our ever-so-cozy family dinners, which we hold so often?  Perhaps when you’re there when I’m crying in pain the bathroom?” Remilia shot back.  “I go weeks without seeing Dad, I go a week or two at a time without seeing you.  When exactly can I talk to you about things?”

“Remilia, THAT is not FAIR,” her mother snapped.  “You’re not the only person who ever needs my time.”

Remilia stared at her vox, overcome with disgust.  “Right.  And the ability to prioritize them is one you have in abundance.  I’m going to go thank Magnus for helping me.  I’ll call you some time.”  She hung up before her mother could say anything else, or before she could apologize for herself.

A distant black speck appeared outside the holofield, slowly growing larger as Remilia turned the vox off, fighting the instinct to throw it into orbit.  The speck suddenly resolved into a vehicle, flying in over the Treasury line to settle down in front of the house.  Not wanting to inspire questions, Remilia pocketed the vox and walked up into the house, to get ready to fly to Mangus’.


After freshening up a bit and changing out of her school clothes – maybe for the last time, she realized – she walked back into the greatroom to see a pair of Custodes and a full squad of un-armored Space Wolves already assembled.  They were deep in conversation with Freya about something, and didn’t pause to address her, so she simply waited out of sight in the kitchen.  Freya, after a few minutes indistinct discussion with her guests, wandered in, looking a bit harried.  “Ah, there you are,” she said, yanking the fridge open and pulling a jug of water out.  “Sorry about that, the arrangements for the trip are stepping on people’s toes.”

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you,” Remilia said.

“Oh, hush,” Freya scolded, “it just means we’ll be going on a Salamanders ship instead of a Space Wolves one.  You ready to go to Magnus’ house?”

“Yeah, I am,” Remilia said.  She fidgeted for a moment.  “…Freya, what do I ask?”

“What’s to ask?  Just thank him for helping you get your shit straightened out,” Freya said, pausing to slug some water.

“But it didn’t help at all!  Now my parents are reaching for my throat!” Remilia complained.

“But it’s better than the alternative,” Freya said.  “And you said you would.”

“I guess I did, didn’t I,” Remilia grumbled.  “Fine.  Can I ride with you?”

“You can go alone, if you want,” Freya said.  “I’m gonna go hit the gym.”

“Oh.”  Remilia looked down to the floor, her courage faltering.  “I should.”  She took a deep breath, steeling her courage.  “All right.  Freya?”

Freya paused, halfway out the door herself.  “Yeah?”

Remilia wrapped her arms around her cousin’s waist.  “Thanks for everything.”

Freya grinned, squeezing Remilia’s hands against her flanks.  “Don’t mention it.  Don’t get too mad, OK?”

“I promise,” Remilia said sadly.  She released her grip on Freya’s midsection and walked out the door, looking for the limousine.  The driver must have been notified from inside the house that she was coming, because he was waiting in the lot beside the house, already idling.

Remilia climbed in and the car accelerated into the air, leaving Remilia to her troubled thoughts.  What would she say to him?  She gripped the armrest of the seat, her stomach rumbling in nerves.  Her distraction lasted until the minute the car settled down.
Steeling herself, she nodded to the driver as he opened the door, and walked up to the imposing front door of the mansion.  The slabs of metal, emblazoned with an ourobouros design, had no visible seam, thanks to their careful design and placement.

Before Remilia could knock on them, however, they swung open, betraying their deceptively low weight.  Remilia took a step into the darkened antechamber, when a hand reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into the house.

Remilia stiffened, her hands gripping her assailant to throw them, but relaxed just in time.  Her attacker had thick red hair and jasmine perfume, and was crying profusely.

“Remilia, I’m so sorry,” Miranda sobbed.  She clamped her arms around Remilia’s shoulders and squeezed like a vice.  “Please, please forgive me, we had no idea that would happen!”

“Miranda, it’s okay,” Remilia said, trying to soothe her cousin.  “Really, I don’t blame you.”

Miranda pushed back from the blonde soccer player, her hands tightening on her shoulders even more.  Her bandana was off; her eye was flaring with an unnerving light.  “Yes, you do!  Don’t hide it,” she said, her voice dropping to a miserable whisper.  “I deserve it.  I thought Dad and I could help, but…but…we d-drove you out of your own house,” she wailed, burying her face in her hands.  Her knees wobbled, and she tipped against the wall, absolute humiliation dripping from her soul.  “I’m so sorry,” she managed, her breath shaking.  She clamped her hands over her mouth, squeezing all three eyes shut, looking unsteady.

Remilia stared at her, guilt twisting her own stomach.  Nerves, guilt, and exhaustion combined, until she felt a tear gather in her eye too.  “Miranda, please don’t cry,” she said, letting her weariness show.  She sat the weeping girl down in the chair in the alcove, trying to let her resentment, or whatever Miranda was seeing inside her, fade.

Miranda’s back heaved in grief and self-recrimination, as her despair overwhelmed her.  “It never fails.  I try to use my insight to help people, and I ruin it.”

“Stop that talk NOW,” Remilia said, anger pushing her guilt aside.  “I will NOT hear that again.  If someone else’s insight could bring things to a head with Dad like that, then it was inevitable.  Or worse, it would NEVER happen, and things would just get worse.  So stop it.  Okay?”  She leaned over to stare into Miranda’s eyes, tricky enough when she had three, harder yet when she was avoiding eye contact.  “Stop crying, all right?  I promise I’m not angry at you.”

Miranda sniffed, her sobs quieting.  “What are you going to tell Dad?”

“What I’d like to know more is how you even found out,” Remilia said, dodging the question.  “It only happened last night.”

“I was studying for my final test on Monday, and I felt something like a dam giving way, from your house.  Then I see a car heading for Freya’s house, and it wasn’t hard to figure out,” Miranda said tightly, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.  “That, and Rogal wasn’t at work today until noon, and…and nearly beat the shit out of Dad when he got in.”

Remilia gasped.  “WHAT?  Dad tried to-”

“They didn’t fight, but only because there were two full platoons of Custodes in between them,” Miranda admitted, her hands twisting the kerchief.  “Or Rogal would have done it.”

“If he was dumb enough to blame Uncle Magnus, fuck him,” Remilia said coldly.  Miranda looked up at her in wonder.

“…You mean that.  You really do.”

“Like I said,” Remilia said, her voice still frigid.  “All your father did was head the problem off.”

“That does not excuse it,” Magnus’ resonant voice said from the hall.  He walked up slowly from the stairs to his office, head hung in regret.  “Remilia, whether you think you need them or not, please accept my heartfelt apologies, and my desire to pay recompense.  You did not deserve that.  I would not have done it if I thought it would have ended so poorly.”  He turned his gaze to the side for a moment, as Miranda’s own eyes narrowed suspiciously.  “No,” he amended, “I would have tried my best to heal the rifts in your soul, and hoped that you would have been able to reconcile with your father, but I would not have called him to let him know you were coming.”

“Why did you do that?” Remilia asked.

“Because I was hoping that a brief discussion of his shortcomings would make your own, inevitable confrontation more equitable.  It has worked before, if you can believe that,” Magnus said.  “I failed.  Regardless, you are welcome to stay here until you feel comfortable at home once more.”

“Well, I do appreciate it, but Freya’s already put me up for as long as I need,” Remilia said tiredly.  Miranda offered her a tiny smile as the small amount of blame towards her and her father vanished from Remilia’s heart.  “But…I have to know.”  Apprehension flared in her, striking a distinct tone in both psykers’ vision.  “Am I…you know, healed?”

Magnus nodded.  “The trauma you have suffered may have scarred your mind, dear child, but your soul was tempered, not broken.  You have nothing to fear.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Remilia allowed.  She passed a fresh tissue to Miranda, before glancing at the door, where the limo was still visible, idling on the drive.  “Hey, what are you doing after graduation?”

“In the short term, I want to go to work at the Scholastica Psykana office where Dad works,” Miranda said, a touch of pride filling her voice.  Magnus nodded serenely.

“I mean after graduation, as in, what are you doing this summer?” Remilia asked.

“Oh.  I’m going on vacation to Carshim, the resort world,” Miranda said.  “Why do you ask?”

Remilia fidgeted a bit.  “I guess I just want to make sure we can all keep in touch after school ends.”

Miranda smiled ruefully.  “I know that feeling.  I hear you’re off on a…’road trip?’”

“Yeah, I’m going with Freya and Venus on their home tour,” Remilia said, glad for the change of subject.

“Well, that should be fascinating,” Miranda said.  “Can’t say I’ve ever been to a Death World before.  Oh, and speaking of vacations, have you heard that Professor Ahriman has submitted a request for a sabbatical?”  Remilia shook her head.

“No.  Is he going to write a book or something?”

“He wishes to return home to Prospero, to contemplate,” Magnus interjected.  “After what has transpired because of him…I do not blame him.”

“Who’s going to replace him?” Remilia asked.

“Another former member of the Thousand Sons,” Magnus said.  “And a former student of mine.”

“He offered to use psychic healing on Morticia,” Miranda supplied, “but Mortarion and Morticia both refused outright.”

Remilia grimaced.  “Can’t blame them.  If she’s going to heal on her own, anyway.”

Miranda nodded glumly.  She flicked a lock of red out of her eyes, looking at her cousin askance.  “Well…I don’t want to keep you.”

“Uncle Magnus, Miranda, I mean it.  I do appreciate what you did.  This couldn’t have done me any good just festering under the surface,” Remilia said, standing up.

“Perhaps, dear girl, but I wish it could have been resolved better,” Magnus said wearily.

Remilia nodded, a grim smile on her face.  “So do I.”