Pity I could deal with.
“Kid, the recorded history of humans in this universe dates back thousands of cycles. We’d had to have arrived here long before we’d discovered how to use magic. Fuck, before we even learned to make metal tools.”
“Yeah, but legends say there were ancient civilizations with magic and technology we can’t dream of today.”
“And it’s bullshit. Knowledge tends to advance, not reverse with time.”
“Apparently, there was a catastrophe.”
“Yeah, and it’s called bullshit. Come on, Aldiaif Han, you speak four languages, so you’re definitely smarter than you seem at first. Too smart to believe in that crap. You should put your brain to better use. Get into the Academy instead of dabbling in myths.”
But I like myths, I wanted to say. They were simple, easy, and… different. They allowed me to get away from the shit I had to deal with in life; forget about the problems I couldn’t solve. I doubted academic research would have the same merit. If anything, it was more likely to just fuel my anxiety.
“Well, I’m not the one with three point two on the Kevar scale,” I chuckled awkwardly, but deep inside, warmth spread through my chest. No one had ever called me smart. I didn’t even care that he misremembered the number of languages I spoke.
“I’m not interested in studying,” he replied. “Look, I hate magic; Kanven made sure of that. If I could, I would run away to grow some fucking coclaxi fruit. Except I wouldn’t be able to eat the damn things; I’d probably die of dehydration via runny nose. So I stay here, figuring that way I’ll do less harm. But you,” he looked me in the eye, and not for the first time, I was struck by how bright his irises were, “you still have a chance.”
Chapter 14
“Vessár-ai.” Myar Mal swept his tired gaze over the gathered leaders. “There’s an empty seat among us today. If you know anyone who could fill it, speak up.”
The silence that followed was almost physical; it dragged like a slime, tainting everything it touched.
“Aldait Han should take this place,” Tyano Har-Vahir, the oldest man among the vessár-ai, said finally.
Myar Mal felt even more tired than before. It took all of his self-control not to sag.
“I won’t make that decision alone.”
“What about Arda Nahs?” asked Vareya Lyg-Havet, the only person older than Tyano Har, referring to Laik Var’s original nami.
“There’s no time to bring her from Sfal,” replied Tyano Har.
“How about my nami?” asked Sanam Il-Asa, rubbing his chin. “Adyar Lah-Nasseye. He’s good. Loyal. Stepped out during the pursuit of the Llodran mage with the unpronounceable name, half a cycle ago.”
Seconds passed. No one answered, but also no one proposed another candidate. Myar Mal waited a moment longer, but realizing the futility, he procured a large, flat box.
“All right then,” he announced, setting it on the table. “Let us vote. Blue for Aldait Han, green for Adyar Lah.”
All vessár-ai reached for small glass balls and gripped them tight, sending their thoughts forward to their twins inside the box. Those who finished put their balls on the table. When the last of them were down, kar-vessár lifted the lid.
Five balls were blue. Six were green.
Myar Mal allowed himself a sigh.
“Thank you, vessár-ai.”
Chapter 15
The skydome barely resisted. Amma La watched as her father’s body disappeared Outside, disintegrating into the same pre-matter everything came from.
Long ago she witnessed Chaarite colonists performing funerary rites. Dancing and wailing as they carried the garishly dressed corpse through the town in a sedan chair decorated with paper flowers. Dahlsi were too practical for such things, and yet she wished there was something else for her to do. Her father deserved better.
But she didn’t know what she could do.
She tried to recall the last time they spoke. Really spoke—without arguing, screaming, or blaming each other. It was merely a few cycles ago, but it felt like an eternity. Since then… Nothing passed between them but bitter words and reproach. And the heavy silence that fell when the words ran out.
What had happened to them?
Moments passed. Her eyes were fixed on the dome as she searched her mind for answers, and while she didn’t find them, there was something. The moment where it all started. The person at the center of their strife.
Amma La clenched her fists and turned back.
Chapter 16
He was a sight to behold. Tall, for a Dahlsi, although still shorter than me. And heavy—not from muscles or fat, but a combination of the two, merging to create an image of sheer, unstoppable mass. How it was possible to grow to such size on Dahlsian food rations?
And yet, no one was looking at him. They were looking at me. The blue sash burned my chest like a fresh wound. I wasn’t sure if I should keep it or tear it down in some dramatic gesture. But that would probably only draw more attention.
“I wanted to ensure you,” said Adyar Lah with a low and powerful voice, “that despite our tragic loss today, our Cohort will prevail. We will stand strong. We will continue fighting as if nothing has changed. We will show them we cannot be broken and then…” he paused dramatically, “we will avenge Laik Var.” My comrades roared in approval. The new vessár nodded, satisfied, and when the applause died down, he turned to me. “Aldait Han.” I lifted my head to meet his eyes. They were small, mere slits in his wide face. “I want you to uphold your duty as nami vessár.”
“Yes, Adyar Lah,” I said dutifully. What else could I say?
He motioned at me and I approached. Then, quietly, so only we could hear he ordered: “Prepare the report about the Cohort’s status.”
I studied him for a moment. Of course. He was from another Cohort. He knew no one here, had no one to rely on. And that meant I
