Page 42 of Trove’s Purpose

“I’ve already got it ready for you on our new holovid,” Alred said, his voice warm and affectionate as he responded to Goldie.

And Chee felt a horrible twinge of jealousy. Trove might speak to her like that, but how many other women had he spoken to like that? Knowing his dick didn’t work for anyone but her didn’t help. It made her feel like she had trapped him, not like he was devoted to her.

The new holovid was one of Trove’s purchases. The physical item was just a tower, about up to her knees, that sat on the floor. But when it was activated, it threw up a holodisplay full of color and as solid as any LED screen back home, with even greater quality. It really did seem like whatever was on the other side was right there.

And this time, when it turned on, what was displayed was a domini female, all in blue, with her hair done in a cute crown of braids. Her eyes were dark purple and she was sitting in a chair, tablet in hand, with the background behind her changing like it was a greenscreen.

“Welcome back to The Lost, the Broken, and the Shameless. My name is Ju and on my show, I cover crimes that are unsolved or unresolved, and today, the story I have for you is one of familial betrayal, cowardice, and evil in a mind too young to seem real. Today, I’ll be recounting the crimes of Kirvan the Unclean.”

It wasn’t the first time Chee had heard Trove’s birth name, but it still made her twitch a bit. It just… wasn’t him. It wasn’t a name that she associated with him.

But the image of the male that came on screen beside the host, Ju, was definitely him. Only…

Young.

Far too young.

“Kirvan was born into the clan Reavold. His mother, Rate, was not mated, and so she was helped in his rearing by her sister, his aunt, Turvista. The three of them were a happy, normal family. Both Rate and Turvista were Voices, respected speakers. Rate was a representative of her city. Turvista did a lot of business off-planet. They were a family of some means, and young Kirvan was not known to lack anything he might want or need.”

It was, honestly, very similar to something Chee might see on Earth. She wouldn’t say that true crime was a genre she particularly enjoyed. Honestly, she found the whole thing revolting. There was such an air of exploitation about the whole thing, even by the best intentioned, that she couldn’t bring herself to be comfortable with the genre. Not to mention the crimes themselves…

No, it didn’t seem fair to make entertainment out of things like that. She wouldn’t say she condemned the genre as a whole per se, she could even admit to the benefits of it at times, but she didn’t like it, and she didn’t think she ever would.

But she was locked in now, listening with rapt attention as Ju the host described the life of Kirvan, his mother, and his aunt. A trio that, by all accounts, were perfectly normal. The best way to start a true crime story, if she knew anything about spun narratives.

Because it certainly didn’t stay that way for long.

“That night, neighbors describe hearing five loud popping sounds. They weren’t able to determine their origin. But when they left their homes to investigate, it was to find Kirvan’s house being rapidly consumed by flames.

“Concerned for the family, people immediately went to work trying to get inside, to save them, but the doors just wouldn’t budge. The windows were all blocked. No one could do anything but watch and wait until emergency help arrived.

“And what they found chilled them to the core. As the house began to collapse, it’s structure too unstable to remain upright anymore, out of the fire walked Kirvan. Though he had a few burns here and there, he was largely unharmed. He wore a simple shirt, long enough to be a dress. He had no shoes to protect him against the fiery ash. And when he emerged from the fire, he was covered in blood and carrying a homemade projectile pistol.”

There was video. Chee didn’t know why she was surprised there was video. But she jumped when the background behind Ju changed and she was looking at a large, beautiful house with a bright, purple garden. It was made mostly of stone, but it was burning with a disturbing ferocity. The entire side had already collapsed.

And there, walking out the front like a ghost from a haunted house, was Trove.

No, it was Kirvan. A young boy. He had to be no older than a teenager. He was wearing a long, loose-fitting white shirt that reached his knees. It was smudged with ash and soot and horribly gave the impression of a hospital gown. He was, in fact, barefoot, his legs black halfway up the calf thanks to the ash and soot. His hair, lank and limp, hung down around his shoulders, obscuring his face so she couldn’t actually see him.

But she did see the weapon in his hand. It wasn’t at all like the sleek, silver and white pistol he’d used on the gun range. It was a rough, simple, boxy hunk of metal. Even by Earth standards, it would be considered a crude weapon.

But what really caught her eye was the blood.

Dark red, almost as black as the soot around him, it stained his arms, his shirt, his face. It was splattered all over him, soaking his hand and the gun, speaking of a dark, horrible act.

Chee couldn’t breathe. She felt horribly like she was trapped. Actually seeing that young Kirvan walking towards her out of the house was… wrong.

But she wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t disgusted.

She was sad.

There was something unspeakably sad, heartbreaking, about the scene. All the elements together should have been the makings of a horror movie, but that wasn’t the reaction she had. Despite the blood, despite the weapon, despite the fire, she wanted to run to that child. Because that’s all he was, a child.

What could possibly have led a child to walk out of a fire, covered in blood?

“What no one knew was that, just moments prior, Kirvan the Unclean had just violently and viciously murdered his own aunt and mother.

“That morning, as Rate was getting ready for work, Turvista went to check on Kirvan. Completely unaware that Kirvan had spent the night crafting his projectile weapon in the basement of the family home. We don’t know exactly what happened between them, but we do know the result.