In the end, stabbing myself with her sword hadn’t hurt me. [False Data: Life] had been used to drop my HP to zero, and make the battle come to an end. I could shapeshift, and I realized that this ability came with the power to shift my organs within my body as well. So I hadn’t stabbed myself in the heart.
But no one else knew that.
Thus, to the world, I was Neo Saintarelli, the romantic who was madly in love with Sophia Alphaphilia.
I would take that over Neo Saintarelli, the nightmare among humans.
In a way, my actions made for the perfect cover. If a nightmare managed to infiltrate somewhere, it would make little sense for them to actively draw attention to themselves, or draw as much attention to themselves as I had done. They would have been trying to melt and blend into the background for as long as they could, rather than openly step into the light.
Two glass mugs were brought before Juma and I. Filled to the brim with a bubbling red liquor, Juma picked his up and then pointed to me.
“I had my doubts about you, Neo, but… you’re a pretty decent guy.”
“What, because I’m supposedly in love with your Vice Captain?”
“Because you chose not to kill her.”
Juma’s eyes didn’t have any mirth in them.
“She would have been brought back.”
“That’s true,” Juma said. “But she wouldn’t have been the same. Resurrection leaves scars on the mind and soul. The damage accumulates with each subsequent resurrection. Taking and taking, until it reaches a point where there’s nothing left to take. Even just dying once, could have cost her the future. A snippet of her memories or skills, damaged or corroded. Gone… forever.”
I hadn’t known that. Neo hadn’t known that either.
“So, let’s make a toast.” He rose his glass.
“A toast?”
“Our First Mission is tomorrow,” he said. “There’s a chance we might not survive. I don’t want to make large sweeping statements and say that I’ll survive no matter what, because I’m not that confident. So, for now, I’d like to have a drink, with a new brother.”
I picked up the bubbling red brew. “You lost me there.”
Juma laughed. “I’m an orphan, Neo. To me, a family isn’t something that has to do with blood ties. It’s a bond you can share with someone. A person you can understand and a person who you feel can understand you. A person who’ll look out for you, in both good times and bad times – and always, always have your back, even if you diverge paths in life.”
My gaze landed on the alcohol, and then back on Juma. “And what makes you think I can be that person?”
Juma shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is, when I’m around you, I get the feeling that you’re a person who’s never had anyone truly have your back. And that if you truly did have that one person, you’d go to the end of the world and back for them.”
I didn’t say anything. I rose the brew, gesturing it towards Juma. Juma gestured his glass towards me as well. They clinked, together.
“To my new brother, Neo Saintarelli.”
My lips, against my will, curved into a smile.
“To my… new brother, Juma Al’ Amir.”
We downed the liquids as one, the familiar burning sensation rushed down my throat. It brought a satisfying sensation, and I clanked the empty glass back to the bar.
“Juma Al’ Amir?” Juma said his brow raising. “Where’d you come up with that?”
I coughed a bit to clear the burning in my throat. “Thar’s your name isn’t it?”
“It’s just Juma. I don’t have a second name.”
I pursed my lips. “You… don’t?”
“Nope. Orphans don’t have family names.”
I stared up at the name hanging over his head.
Juma Al’ Amir
There was no mistaking it. He did have a family name. Except he didn’t know it. But, the Godscripts should have shown it to him. If the Godscripts didn’t show it to him, it meant only the Nightscripts could see his name.
Why can only Nightmares see his last name?
“I mean, I’m flattered and all, but naming me the Prince is going a little overboard.”
“What?”
“Al Amir,” Juma said. “It means The Prince.”
Al… Amir?
Alamir.
The Prince.
The very world was named after The Prince. The Prince of Light who supposedly created the world by fighting back his mother, Darkness.
Al Amir… is… Arabic.
“Juma… what language are the words Al Amir?”
Juma’s brows furrowed. “… I’m not sure. Jezik maybe? No, no – that’s not it. Khel? No – not it either. Maybe Golos?”
I had a soft, sneaking suspicion. One I didn’t want to believe. “Juma… do you understand the meaning of the words: Veni, Vidi, Vici?”
“You came, you saw, you conquered?” His brow furrowed. “Is that supposed to be a reference to sex?”
He understood it. He understood it. I spoke Latin and he understood it. I didn’t hesitate before searching for Neo’s pen, quickly as I could and I wrote down on the back of my palm in English:
I may have a silly crush on Luxeme Vi Engarde.
“This,” I pointed, frantically. “Can you read this?”
Juma squinted his eyes. After this, he gave me a flat look. “What, Sophia isn’t enough for you? Lt. General Luxeme is out of your league Neo. Don’t be greedy.”
I breathed out. He can read it as well.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“What language do you think I just wrote down?”
Juma stared at the back of my palm. “…I….I’m… well, I know it’s one of the languages Father Goma and Shiga taught me. They taught me so many of them it’s sometimes hard to keep it all straight.”
No, it’s likely the opposite. It was more likely, that
