“And that’s the full story,” I finished, having recounted the events of my dream.

 

Miss sat opposite me in a state of stasis, but I could see, or more felt, that I had been heard. I preoccupied myself with this morning’s breakfast; an assortment of caramelised vegetables atop 3 stacks of butterscotch pancakes, and played footsy with Ratio while I waited for a response. The shuffle of vines indicated to me that time was close.

 

“Star, I’ve just finished talking with Cereus. It was only a quick diagnostic scan, but from what we can tell, both your brainwaves and Haustoric implant are running as expected. What you experienced was likely your interpretation of your internal struggle.”

 

“Is that bad?” I asked a little worried.

 

“Not at all! Everyone’s inner reflection after they’ve been implanted is different. Ratio here negotiated a contract with herself where she stipulated her goals and things she wasn’t willing to compromise.” I gave Ratio a quick glance and found her nodding in agreement. “My understanding is that your experience has split your being into 3 distinct parts and the opposing viewpoints represent your inner turmoil, which would make sense given that you’re trying to get them to find common ground and achieve a sense of balance. I’m not going to say any more on that matter as the form it takes and what you get out of it is only something you can decide and one, I’m happy to let you explore alone. I’m not worried though and I have full faith in your abilities. What I do want to address is your wrong interpretation of wrath and your insistence to keep mentally hurting yourself.”

 

She took a break from talking to allow me to process the information and reflect on it. Her words had reassured me and it was comforting knowing that the entities were aspects of me and not independent. It also made me laugh a bit because I had sequentially bound, mocked, attacked, comforted, laughed, pleaded and bargained with myself in a very short amount of time. Inner self-reflection me is weird. Still, I’m confident she’ll figure things out and there isn’t anything I can do about it just now.

 

“Kay, I’m done processing,” I announced.

 

Miss smiled, sorted some paperwork away and gave me her full focus. “Let’s start with the easier of the two. In your own words, can you describe to me what we achieved with wrath and how you benefited from it?”

 

“Sure!” I said with full confidence. “We simulated the abuse I went through as a child and used the repeated iterations to face, combat and grow past it.” Miss nodded but didn’t ask any more questions which lead me to believe she was expecting me to say more. “And…” I continued hesitantly. “Having overcome that aspect of myself I removed the anger within me and became better for it?”

 

“Wrong,” Miss said.

 

“Oh. Eh, why?” I asked. “Isn’t that the point of wrath? To remove my anger the same way we addressed the envy I feel for others?”

 

“Flower, remove and address are not the same thing. It was never my intention to remove your anger, nor do I want to. What was my intention was to build awareness. In your dream, you expressed frustration at retaining the ability to get angry. What you failed to realise is upon getting angry, you noticed it, decided not to act on it and even apologised for your behaviour. Can you see how this is an improvement to lashing out?”

 

I nodded my head in agreement. “So… I’m allowed to get angry?” I asked.

 

“Yes, darling.”

 

“Oh! Okay.” I tapped my finger against the table three times. “Huh. Yeah, I had the completely wrong idea behind that.” I gave a low hum. “Okay, so help me with my ignorance, what is sloth trying to do?“

 

Miss stroked my hair. “What do you think it’s trying to do flower.”

 

I thought about it. My interpretation was that we were trying to combat my social anxiety and build my friend base. That’s probably still the case but was there something more? What was the underlying lesson? Did the number 3 have any significant relevance, or am I overthinking this? I shifted through my thoughts and gave an answer. “So, on its surface, it’s dealing with my anxiety and helping expand my friend base, but I’m thinking another goal might be developing my independence and learning to adapt to my surroundings?” I was not at all confident with that response.

 

The vine on my head rewarded me with a rub across the back of my ear. “Very good. I would have also accepted putting down roots and learning to read people for desirable traits.”

 

Miss collected the now empty dishes, stacked them and placed them on a lower table. “Light, can I leave the clean-up to you?” she asked.

 

Ratio nodded and shone a quick smile at me, before collecting the plates and heading to the kitchen leaving the two of us alone.

 

“Star.” I turned back around and found Miss less than 5 feet away. “Come.” She waited for me to hop down from my seat and then lead the way, bound for the bedroom. Once entering she instructed me to take a seat on the end of the bed, bringing her seat close so we were near eye level. A vine retrieved Foxy from behind me and placed it into my hands, gave them a light squeeze and retracted.

 

“I’m confident you now have a better understanding of the trials so I’m happy to move on for now, though we can always revisit this conversation if you feel it necessary,” Miss started.

 

“And since we’ve covered the first point that leaves my insistence on hurting myself,” I finished.

 

“Which leaves your insistence on hurting yourself,” Miss echoed in agreement. “Before we begin, do you understand how you’re hurting yourself?”

 

“Not at all. Well… aside from being physically assaulted that is,” I replied with a laugh. “But no, I really don’t,” I quickly added more seriously.

 

“Very well, let’s start there then,” Miss said. “Hypothetically speaking, if there were two girls, one who had been told her entire life that she was ugly, while the other had been told she was beautiful. Which do you suppose would think they’re more attractive?”

 

A part of me wanted to answer the ugly one, mainly due to disliking obvious questions and always suspecting a trap; the other part of me understood she was trying to make a point and wanted to see where it would end.

 

“I would imagine the one who had been told they were beautiful, though it largely depends on things like genetics and economic status amongst other things. It would be hard to say without seeing them with my own eyes,” I replied.

 

“Good. But let’s say they were twins, alike in every way except for how they were treated; would you still say the ugly girl would think herself more attractive?”

 

“Not at all! Psychology plays a big part in how we see ourselves. If you’re told something enough times you start to believe it and at that point, it becomes undeniably true. In the girl’s case she would interpret she was ugly and always compare herself to her twin, coming up with reasons in her head why she was inferior even if her reasoning didn’t hold true,” I explained.

 

“Knowing that, do you think she’s right?”

 

“No. They’re exactly alike so making the comparison they’re different is illogical.”

 

Miss nodded and rewarded me with a head pat. “Exactly. So, keeping your response in mind, let’s change the scenario. In this example, we have a girl. Unfortunately for her she experienced an accident and woke up with a form of amnesia. Now she’s still the same girl, but because of her amnesia, she tells herself that she’s incomplete, that she’s somehow less than whom she used to be, even if it’s not true. Do you think the girl is correct?”

 

I gave a skewed smile. “I… I see where you’re getting with this. So what, you want me to stop making a distinction between who I was both before and after the capture?” I asked.

 

“What I want, is for you to stop degrading yourself to an object and telling yourself that you’re a copy. I’ve told you before. You’re the same girl that I rescued on that ship and the one I fell in love with.”

 

I began rubbing my left arm. “That’s easier said than done,” I added, adverting my gaze. “I don’t think that’s something I’m going to be able to achieve.”

 

“I thought that might be the case. That’s why I have decided to help you overcome that aspect.” My eyes refocused instantly, but before I could ask what she meant she had continued speaking. “I have also decided that I’m going to remove the guilt you feel towards the lives lost under the Accord.”

 

I went on edge instantly. “You can’t!” I screamed. “I told you that I have to atone! You can’t take that away from me, it’s supposed to be my punishment!”

 

“I can, and I will,” she insisted. “I was hoping you’d grow past it, but hearing that you plan on making it a core part of yourself has forced my vine. I can no longer afford to stand by idle.”

 

I made an attempt to remove myself from the situation, but was coiled in her vines and placed back on the bed. I knew struggling would be pointless but I did that as well. “Miss, please,” I pleaded with tears in my eyes. “I have to atone; I have to balance the ledger.”

 

“No Star, you don’t,” she rebuked. “The concept of having to atone, having to clear your conscience with greats acts is a Terran ideology I do not agree with. Fortunately for you, you’re no longer Terran. You are my pet and whether you like it or not I am absolving you of those burdens.”

 

I gritted my teeth. “I’ll go back to hating you," I warned.

 

“Maybe. But I would rather see you hate me than put yourself down any longer.”

 

“Even if it makes all your progress redundant?” I asked.

 

“Even if it makes my progress redundant,” she agreed.

 

We stared at each other defiantly, hoping that the other would change their views and diffuse the growing attention, but neither made an effort to do so.

 

“Error.” I leant forward into Miss’s vines, burying my face as far as I could and focused on the repeated line being drawn down my back. “How will you do it,” I asked, my voice a little steadier.

 

“Hypnosis. I’ll bring you down into a trance, probe those particular feelings and cull them. I’ll allow you to retain the memories, but they’ll no longer chain you, and in your own time they’ll be lost to history; no longer worthy of dwelling on. While you’re in trance I will also change how you perceive yourself as a copy and rid yourself of that perception.”

 

“And I can’t convince you otherwise?” I asked in a whisper.

 

“You cannot,” Miss confirmed, her voice resolute.

 

I took in a deep breath, released my hold and removed my face from her vines. “Kay. But I hope you’re prepared for the consequences.” I searched her face and could see that she was. I took another deep breath. “Where do you want me?”

 

You may find my quick acceptance strange, but truth be told if she had resolved herself to this there was very little I could do to stop her. It didn’t break the terms of our contract and there were no legal rights I could cite because I had none; courtesy of one Human Domestication Treaty. Better to get it out of the way and deal with the inevitable fallout.

 

Miss brought me to the centre of the bed and lay me down, extending my limbs save for the one arm that rested against my chest with Foxy beneath it.

 

“Star, before we begin, I want you to know that I love you and while you may not believe this, I do this because I feel it’s in your best interest. I hope you’ll come to forgive me.”

 

I remained defiant, looking up at my captor and refusing to speak. My silence was acknowledged with an upset smile, one that radiated through me, infecting every fibre of my being. She leaned down, kissed my forehead and placed a vine under my chin to ensure I couldn’t revoke my gaze.

 

“Let’s begin.”