turned back and placed the disk on her pillow before answering the knock.
“What can I do for you, Ma’am?” She opened the door all the way.
Iana stared at them from her bed, removing a headset from her computer and video message long enough to see what the instructor wanted.
“Keryn,” Victoria said solemnly, “you need to go to the dean’s office right now.”
Keryn arched an eyebrow, trying to remember if she did anything wrong. “Can you tell me why?”
“Unfortunately, I can’t,” she said in a low voice, “but you need to come with me now.”
Turning to share a shrug with Iana, Keryn stepped into the hall and closed the door behind her. Victoria led her through the maze of twisting hallways between her room and the dean’s, while Keryn tried to figure out what she’d done. Dean Brothius made it very clear in her last interview that any slip on her part would mean immediate expulsion from the Academy. She did everything in her power to stay out of trouble and perform as a model cadet. She could only guess what the dean had to say.
Turning down a familiar hall lined with Academy accomplishments, Victoria stopped before the dean’s door and knocked softly. Keryn heard a faint voice tell them to enter.
Victoria held the door and shook her head, indicating she wouldn’t go in with Keryn. More nervous than ever, Keryn stepped inside.
Dean Brothius sat in his high-backed chair, staring at Keryn with his hands folded before his face. Flanking him on either side stood Alliance Infantry officers, their chests brimming with ribbons and their ranks glistening with polish on their shoulders. The clean lines of their uniforms were crisp.
Whatever their purpose, Keryn knew this was an official visit, not a social one.
“Please, Keryn, have a seat,” Dean Brothius said quietly, not moving his hands.
Hesitantly, she sat in a cushioned seat across from him-the same one he offered when she reported to his office after the bar fight.
“Keryn,” the dean said, struggling to find the right words, “when was the last time you spoke to your family?”
She glanced at the two Infantry officers standing on either side of the desk. “I….” She noted their sad expressions. “It’s been two months, Sir, though I received mail from them today.”
“Are you close to your…?”
The officer to Keryn’s right stepped forward and interrupted. “Are you Keryn Dania Riddell, formerly of Lagurica?” His tone, though soft and sympathetic, still bore the rigid dialogue of a soldier unused to dealing with more-compassionate situations. “Are your parents Lilith and Malta Riddell?”
More confused than ever, she nodded. “What is this about?” She looked back and forth between the officers and the dean.
As her eyes fell upon the silent officer on the left, a badge on his uniform triggered an old memory. Three intertwined gold loops hung above the name bar on the right side of his chest. Throughout her studies, she saw that symbol many times during her Uligart studies.
She hushed the Voice, but a lump formed in her throat, as she tried to think of another reason for a chaplain to be there. Growing up on a planet saturated with warriors, she occasionally saw the Infantry visit parents and siblings in their homes. They wore similar crisp uniform and always had a chaplain in the pair when they brought bad news to distraught family members.
Tears welled in her eyes, as she asked again, wanting to hear them confirm her suspicions but deathly afraid that the Voice was right. “Why are you here?”
“Ms. Riddell,” the officer on the right said, his low voice filled with emotion, “we regret to inform you that your brother, Eza Riddell, was killed in the line of duty.”
Tears spilled from her eyes, rolling down her tanned cheeks and pooling on her chin before tumbling into her shaking hands. Unable to contain herself, she leaned forward and hid her face in her hands, as her body was wracked with sobs. The dean and the officers waited patiently.
Eza had always been the stronger of the two siblings. It seemed impossible to believe he could die. Keryn still remembered being in the auditorium during Eza’s Initiation. Though only a little girl at the time, she was awed by his speed and grace once inside the Warrior’s Circle. His ax was little more than a blur, as he earned his right to be welcomed into the warrior caste.
Of all those she watched go through Initiation, Eza retained more of his original personality than any other. Even afterward, she still had her big brother. That was what she remembered most about him. No matter what mission he was assigned in the Alliance Infantry, he was always faithfully supportive. He offered Keryn advice as she grew up and was one of the few who supported her decision to forego Initiation in order to take the Academy’s entry exam. After all he did for her, he couldn’t be gone now!
A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. Looking up through bleary eyes, she saw the chaplain’s sympathetic face, as he offered her a box of tissues. She gave muttered thanks and wiped her puffy eyes and blew her nose.
“How did it happen?” she croaked, her voice tight.
“He was defending the Alliance from a Terran threat when he was killed,” the officer replied. “Unfortunately, due to the nature of his work, I can’t offer more information than that.”
“Classified.” She nodded. Eza excelled in everything he put his mind to. It was no surprise to anyone, least of all Keryn, when he was accepted into the prestigious covert operations division of the Infantry.
When the silence stretched a few moments longer, the officer, who was clearly uncomfortable, cleared his throat. “Ms. Riddell, we’ll be on the Academy grounds until tomorrow night if you have any questions. There’s still some paperwork we need you to complete, since you’re listed as his beneficiary. However, that can wait. I know this must be a delicate time for you.”
“If you need anything at all,” the chaplain added, “please don’t hesitate to ask. Our sole purpose being here is to help you through this difficult time.”
Keryn nodded, as they walked past and placed comforting hands on her shoulder. Far from being comforted, she felt heartache surfacing, as they left. Pulling another tissue from the box, she wiped more tears from her eyes.
As the door clicked shut behind the officers, Dean Brothius said, “Keryn, I’m truly sorry for your loss. If there’s anything I can….”
She stood, unable to listen any more. Her face grew hot, and tears threatened to fall again. Not wanting him to see her crying, she thought it was better to leave. She took the box of tissues and nodded, unable to trust her voice. As she left, silence stretched between them.
She staggered around the corner from the dean’s office before sobbing uncontrollably. Leaning against the cool stone wall, she cried until her knees buckled, and she collapsed. Keryn pounded her fist against the ground, while memories of Eza went through her mind. Every time she thought of what he did for her, and that he was gone from her life forever, she hit the ground again. Anger swallowed her sadness until a guttural howl of loss erupted from her throat. Faces emerged from rooms down the hall to look for the source of the commotion.
“Keryn?” a musical voice asked softly behind her. “I’m sorry about your brother.” Victoria placed her hands on the Wyndgaart’s shoulders, but she brusquely brushed them aside.
Keryn climbed to her feet, ignoring Victoria, and walked away without a word. She wiped away tears with the back of her hand, as she walked to her room. Though she began slowly, she was almost running by the time she turned the corner leading to her barracks room. She slipped past the unlocked door and slammed it shut behind her, losing herself in inky darkness.
The cool door felt wonderful on her flushed, hot skin. Pressing herself against it, she realized she was alone in the room. Either Victoria told Iana to leave, or she had the foresight to leave Keryn alone for a while. She was glad to have the privacy to suffer through her heartache in silence.
Staggering away from the door, her eyes moist but no longer spilling tears, she moved toward her bed and sat heavily, crushing the letters strewn across it.
For nearly two months, she felt as if she found a surrogate family, like she truly belonged. She made friends and succeeded where no one, not even her parents, expected. Suddenly, she felt as if a new hollow was carved in her chest. Coldness crept from the void and suffused her body, leaving her empty and alone.
