My name is Eva Wei and I won the Great Race of Oban.

Sounds grand if you put it like that, isn't it? Something to tell your kids about, or write a book. The Avatar himself inviting representatives from any breed or race willing and able to take part, and a stunning victory in the face of overwhelming odds by the Earth team. Amongst so many competitors, some beyond comprehension by fragile mortal minds, a stowaway turned pilot persevering and lasting until the very end at the Origin of the World. Most striking picture, don't you agree?

Of course you do. It is even true, in a way. I did all those impossible things, and many more of the less impressive variety. Things that will never make it into print, but maybe - just maybe - will be told to close friends or family in great secret and with even greater embarrassment. How I stole the Whizzing Arrow for my first race, how I wrecked it half an hour later and then countless times again on many tracks of Alwas and Oban. Here would be a great moment to mention mechanics Stan and Koji as well, those poor souls who put the Arrow back together just as often as I scrapped it, always rising to the challenge. From a certain point of view, they were as important to our victory as I was, and no doubt will receive barely a fraction of the fame.

That is, if the whole victory part wasn't a cruel lie and a stupendous mistake. A pawn that turned into a queen is still a piece to be moved as the player desires, no will of her own, in a game that spanned long before you might imagine. A double lie, if you lump the hoax of Ultimate Prize next to my triumph, and I do. But, pardon me, talking about the end when things are just at the starting line for you. You'd fix everything, won't you? Satis said you could; even he agreed. It must be cozy in there, bright and warm. Perhaps I should pick a different beginning, shouldn't I?

The sun shone brightly on that day, as if trying to chase all the shadows away. Its warmth seeped into your very bones, urging children to play outside and bask in its glory. All but one heeded the call. The press of the crowd was disorienting and overwhelming, people shouting and cheering and laughing from all directions; almost like a singular, giant hive, intent on a specific event before them.

The incident with the Crogs a few years back before I was born had shown everyone how small and populated the galaxy truly was. Even those indifferent to alien life have started to wonder, their interest piqued as to who our neighbors from the stars could truly be. But of course, simply asking was not enough; they wanted to invite them to Earth under a guise of friendship and judge how hard it would be to wage war. Diplomacy at it's finest - far beyond the smarts of a small girl curious to see one such visitor.

Black body and a black cloak - under the blinding sun it was jarring how out of place and truly different the Phil felt. He was a blemish that stood out and sent goosebumps crawling over your skin, spooky even from within the crowd of all those boring dark suits that surrounded him. Maybe his proportions seemed off, or perhaps his movements too abrupt and decidedly inhuman, I would never know for sure. What I do remember, still, was fear for his opponent.

Maya Wei was a study of contrasts. She was gentle and yet always knew how to push through. She was always kind and yet could tower over a giant when she wanted to; she had a certain spark that lit the way for those who followed her. Magnanimous and benevolent, she was bigger than life, and yet never failed to spend time with her family whenever I wanted her to. Can you imagine the feeling when all you may wish for is already firmly held in your hands? You're content, happy, and slightly surprised it can even be true, much less have come to pass. She was the one to make it reality.

So it was no surprise that when the first interplanetary racing competition was finally agreed upon, she was at the forefront of the human delegation - the fastest pilot on the planet, the most skilled flyer humanity could find to champion our cause. Maya Wei was born a victor, and we always stood beside her. That day was no different.

Only, it was. Somehow, deep in my heart, there was a nagging suspicion, an unabating worry that refused to go away. Like a tide that eclipsed the sun and forced your undivided attention, it hounded me, harassed with premonitions of catastrophe.

I glanced at daddy, then, and he smiled back at me reassuringly. His worn face was covered with worry lines, a mark of years spent handling hundreds of details both minor and crucial. His job was demanding, taking care of troubles and annoyances so that Maya won't have to. Looking at his tired smile, you'd never think there was anything wrong. Yet there was.

"What's his name?" I didn't need to clarify who I meant. Father always knew what I wanted.

"Spirit."

"That's a pretty name," I replied, disgruntled. I felt cheated, like the Phil somehow evaded justice for some unknown crime. Someone so strange and foreboding can't have a nice name, surely? There must be something amiss or out of place with this… Spirit. "He's a pilot, too? How well can he fly?"

"Not good enough. You know mommy never lost a race." My worry must have shown on my face, or dad shared it with me. He hugged me closer. There was a certain note in his voice; a reassurance that everything will be alright, and I believed him. How could I not? Maya was not unlike a god among men, and daddy strived to match her every step of the way. Together, they could take on the whole world.

The sun poured the light upon the Earth, with nary a shadow left under its benevolent gaze. Pity that some shadows stretch far beyond its reach.

A mistake that nobody could have predicted, they called it in the news. Spirit was bound by the laws of the universe as firmly as any other winged flier would. He did possess a cunning mind, however, diving towards his opponent to latch onto her star racer, coasting on her skill through a sharp turn.

Even if someone could have guessed, though, it would have changed nothing. Every story needs a villain, and the hand of this particular one was very subtle. A fuel line breach, seemingly from the grab. A murder, masked by an accident. A killer, never accused.

All of that I will learn later. I didn't care about details, back then. Besides, they told me empty platitudes, when I've finally gathered my courage to ask. They treated me as a child I was. Cooed at Little Eva, trying to fix something that was beyond repair. Fed me pretty lies when it was not the truth that hurt.

Even so, I knew that something had changed, irreversibly. The Wei family ceased to exist, and when Don left me at the boarding school, I knew he wasn't coming back. I still hoped, of course, every birthday a ritual of stalking the phone, but when he didn't call, I wasn't particularly surprised, either. You cannot deceive your own blood, no matter the age. "Daddy" had become an unlisted casualty of the crash, and so did the trusting, naive Little Eva.

My name is Eva Wei and I won the Great Race of Oban.