"For us," Mel'arnach said, conversationally, "Technology can almost be considered magic. But we had flying machines, golems, suits of armor..." Not to mention the biological experiments, but she imagined that the technology in Murderbot's world was far more commonplace than the incredible feats of the Jaal'darya, who offered their inventions only to the underworld's most esteemed and eminent.
Murderbot's next admission takes her aback, and though it attemptd to seem indifferent, its tone still rings with more vulnerability than it has previously shown.
Its plight was familiar to her. Mel'arnach could find some common ground. "At home I did not have many friends. I did at one time, but, ah..." she trailed off, uncertain how much to reveal.
Where even to start? Most of them she had lost contact with when she was imprisoned, save the surreptitious correspondence she maintained with Snadya'rune. The rest who did not renounce their allegiance were massacred. Something inside of her changed in the dungeon. From there she sank further into darkness. She spent so long scaring away other people, making them believe she was a madwoman, with no one but spiders for company.
Even after she was released into an unfamiliar world, during a time she should have been celebrating her freedom, her friends were few and far between. Most of the people in her immediate orbit could not be trusted. Snadya'rune had been meticulous in engineering her isolation. Even in a crowd, even living in luxury, Mel'arnach was devoured by terrible loneliness. The woman who was once her only friend, Lulianne, had been compromised. The people Mel'arnach once considered friends were loyal only to Snadya'rune, and if their mistress commanded it - either because she exhausted her usefulness or for any other reason - they would have disposed of her in an instant. People that would smile in her face before sticking a knife in her back. People she once unthinkingly offered her trust and respect, only to betray it. Were it not for Zhor's steadfast companionship, she would have been alone. The father of her firstborn, the one who saw through all the deception and scheming...
But he was no longer here, and she feels his absence as acutely as if she was missing a limb. And in the end, she could not blame Snadya'rune for all of her woes. Sometimes she chose to embrace her isolation and her pain.
"It is a long story. What I've learned over time is that as long as you know yourself, the opinions of other people do not matter." She thinks back to the day she first spoke to Ariel, back when her relationship with her daughter was so much simpler, even with the forces that kept them apart. She had offered the same advice. "But I understand that sometimes it is easier said than done."
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Murderbot's next admission takes her aback, and though it attemptd to seem indifferent, its tone still rings with more vulnerability than it has previously shown.
Its plight was familiar to her. Mel'arnach could find some common ground. "At home I did not have many friends. I did at one time, but, ah..." she trailed off, uncertain how much to reveal.
Where even to start? Most of them she had lost contact with when she was imprisoned, save the surreptitious correspondence she maintained with Snadya'rune. The rest who did not renounce their allegiance were massacred. Something inside of her changed in the dungeon. From there she sank further into darkness. She spent so long scaring away other people, making them believe she was a madwoman, with no one but spiders for company.
Even after she was released into an unfamiliar world, during a time she should have been celebrating her freedom, her friends were few and far between. Most of the people in her immediate orbit could not be trusted. Snadya'rune had been meticulous in engineering her isolation. Even in a crowd, even living in luxury, Mel'arnach was devoured by terrible loneliness. The woman who was once her only friend, Lulianne, had been compromised. The people Mel'arnach once considered friends were loyal only to Snadya'rune, and if their mistress commanded it - either because she exhausted her usefulness or for any other reason - they would have disposed of her in an instant. People that would smile in her face before sticking a knife in her back. People she once unthinkingly offered her trust and respect, only to betray it. Were it not for Zhor's steadfast companionship, she would have been alone. The father of her firstborn, the one who saw through all the deception and scheming...
But he was no longer here, and she feels his absence as acutely as if she was missing a limb. And in the end, she could not blame Snadya'rune for all of her woes. Sometimes she chose to embrace her isolation and her pain.
"It is a long story. What I've learned over time is that as long as you know yourself, the opinions of other people do not matter." She thinks back to the day she first spoke to Ariel, back when her relationship with her daughter was so much simpler, even with the forces that kept them apart. She had offered the same advice. "But I understand that sometimes it is easier said than done."