Chapter Two

The Planet Gearrach, Realtran Kingdom

Dansa Academy

Latharna’s eyes opened suddenly to a feeling of stillness in the air. Nothing seemed to be amiss, and yet, there was an inescapable sense that something had shifted, as if this was the calm after a sudden thunderclap when the world held its breath, waiting to see if the sound might come again and what it portended. Something had changed, she thought, and she wasn’t sure what it might signify.

Glancing at the small holo-clock by her bedside, she saw that it was still early in the morning, but that the morning bells would be ringing soon. Sitting up slowly, she stretched, ran a hand through her fine white hair, and blinked away the last sleep from her eyes. Her room was small and spartan, though unlike the younger students she had no roommate to share it with. Aside from her bed, its only features were the doors leading to the hallway and to her washroom, a small shelf of books, a stand for her practice sword, the wardrobe that held her clothing, and a small shrine in one corner.

Rising, Latharna approached the shrine and bowed before it, murmuring her morning prayers under her breath. The Academy was technically under the auspices of the Church, though the Realtran Church was notoriously independent of the central religious hierarchy in the Empire, even more so than the Dozen Stars Church. Still, certain forms were expected to be maintained, though Latharna knew many of the other students skimped on their prayers when they thought the instructors weren’t looking. She, though, rarely had – she found the ritual comforting, and thought that it helped give her focus.

Prayers done, she took the time to clean herself and attend to various other matters in the washroom, before changing into the red tunic and pants that were the uniform of a senior Academy student. Pausing for a moment in front of the washroom mirror to adjust her clothing, she was struck, as she often was, by the contrast between the rich color of the fabric and the almost complete lack of color in her own body – her hair, which she typically kept shorn almost boyishly short, and skin were both bone-white, and her eyes, which were unusually sensitive to bright lights, were a pale lavender shade. Latharna was an albino from birth, and though the Headmistress had assured her that the condition was perfectly natural and nothing to be ashamed of, she’d never met another person who shared it.

Not, she reflected wryly, that she’d met a particularly large assortment of people at all. She had little memory of her parents, who had left her in the Headmistress’s care as a small child, leaving her a surname – Dhenloc – but little else. She’d lived at the Academy for most of her life, and had always excelled at her studies, but there had always been a barrier between her and the other students that she’d never quite been able to bridge. They had families who they could return to on leave, and positions waiting for them in the outside worlds after they had graduated. Latharna, orphaned and seemingly unwanted, had the Headmistress as her guardian, but she was a busy woman with many demands on her time. Latharna respected her greatly, but she’d never been the most affectionate or close of surrogate parents.

The Dansa Academy was one of the Realtran Kingdom’s most prestigious centers of education, and many of the wealthy, powerful, well-connected, and aristocratic – though those categories were somewhat more permeable here than in places like the Dozen Stars or the Empire that had stricture class systems and more rigid hierarchies – sent their children here to be educated in the skills that would be expected of them later in life. History, mathematics, economics, the sciences, the arts, music, and swordplay – all were on the Academy’s curriculum, and Latharna had always been driven to excel, to prove that just because she was the Headmistress’s ward, she didn’t need or want special treatment. Now she was eighteen, a grown woman by the standards of most major nations, and her education had been complete now since she graduated a few weeks ago, but still she remained. There was no family waiting to take Latharna back, no position in the Church or the military or as an aide to a member of parliament that had been set aside for her. The Academy was all that she knew and so here she had remained as a tutor to some of the younger students, particularly in the swordsmanship classes. Latharna had developed many skills during her time at the school – she had an extensive knowledge of galactic history and literature, a functional understanding of the sciences, and according to her teachers was naturally gifted on the harp – but her true aptitude and deepest passion was for the sword.

Checking the clock again, she saw that it was almost time for her first class of the morning. Belting on her sword, she retrieved the lenses that would shield her eyes from the brightness of the sun and prepared to head to her work. But in her heart, she knew that this day would be far from ordinary.

Something has changed, a voice seemed to whisper. Something is coming. Be ready.

///

Latharna stood with her hands on her hips in the Academy courtyard, red lenses in place over her eyes to filter out the harsh white light of Gearrach’s sun and watched over a group of ten-year-olds going through their exercises with long sticks that approximated the shape and weight of practice swords. Brother Ronall, an elderly monk who had been a fearsome knight in his youth before retiring to a religious life and eventually become one of the Academy’s instructors, sat on the steps behind her, seemingly content to let her handle things for the moment. There had been, of course, a number of mishaps, and several students had needed their form corrected, but so far this morning none of them had smacked themselves in the face with their weapons or decided smacking each other would be more fun than drilling, so Latharna was tentatively counting this session a success.

Nodding approvingly, Latharna wandered over to the steps and sat down beside Brother Ronall. “They seem to be improving,” she said, then nodded at one girl who had an expression of intense concentration on her face that looked more comical than was intended. “Please tell me I never looked quite so silly at that age, though,” she added in an undertone.

“All children are silly,” Ronall said, chuckling. “And those of us who live long enough figure out that there’s nothing wrong with it, either. Maybe those of us who try to take ourselves too seriously are really the silly ones.” He fixed Latharna with his bright eyes. “Which means, child, that it’s sometimes all right to lighten up. You always have been so serious, even as a little girl.”

“So I’ve been told,” Latharna said drily. “Just my nature, I suppose. I can’t leave something done until I can make sure I did it right.”

“Or is it that you feel you have to prove you belong?” Brother Ronall asked. “Because you don’t have a noble pedigree or rich parents? Well, I can’t speak for everyone else, but I think you proved rather conclusively that you belonged in my classes long ago. And I can assure you that you were brought here for a reason. The Lord leaves nothing to chance.”

“Praise be,” Latharna added reflexively. “But why am I getting the impression you know more than you’re letting on?”

The old monk’s eyes twinkled, but he said nothing more. They sat together for several more minutes, watching the students drill, when an older girl in her mid-teens emerged from the building and hurried over to the steps where they were seated.

“Brother Ronall,” she said, “I’m sorry to bother you, but the Headmistress requests that Mistress Dhenloc attend her in the gardens, if she is at all available.”

Ronall stood and stretched, then gestured for Latharna to rise as well. “Her services do not seem to be urgently required at the moment,” he said, and smiled. “Latharna, do go and see the Headmistress. I suspect you will find the meeting rather illuminating.”

“You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?” Latharna asked accusingly, but Brother Ronall only smiled.

Sighing, Latharna turned away from him and hurried off to meet the Headmistress in the gardens.

///

The Headmistress was standing on a cobbled path beside a small pool, head bowed as she stroked the head of the brightly colored bird that was perched on her wrist. Latharna approached her quietly and stood still at a respectful several paces behind her; she made no sound to indicate her presence, but experience had long ago taught her that she didn’t need to. No sooner had she arrived than the Headmistress raised her hand and let her bird flutter away, then turned to face her ward with a rustle of her deep red robes.

The Headmistress was a nonhuman; not a particularly common sight in most of Realtran or the Dozen Stars, and even more rare in a position of authority. Latharna didn’t know much about her history or how she had come to head one of the kingdom’s most prestigious schools and had never had the courage to ask, but everyone knew that the Headmistress was a formidable woman indeed. Her species were called the Pervai and they resembled humans in many respects, though with enough differences to make their alien nature obvious; the Headmistress was pale, though not as pale as Latharna, with fine features and deep black eyes that seemed disproportionately large compared to her face. Most striking, however, was the fact that instead of hair, her head was topped with a bright crest of feathers that swept back from her face in a dramatic pattern.

“Walk with me, child,” the Headmistress said, gesturing to Latharna with a hand whose long, slender fingers were tipped with delicate claws. Turning, she began to make her way along the path, moving with the easy grace typical of her people, who were most often seen in human worlds as dancers or acrobats. Latharna followed close behind her.

“I have been pleased with you work here, child,” the Headmistress finally said again. “You have comported yourself well in all your studies, and in working with the instructors these last few months. I know that you are uncertain about your future, feeling that you have nowhere to go now that your education is complete. I called you here because I believe that is about to change.”

“What do you mean, Headmistress?” Latharna asked, her voice catching in her throat.

“Ceana Preas, Ambassador of the Realtran Kingdom to the Dozen Stars by appointment of King and Parliament, contacted me yesterday,” the Headmistress said. “It seems she finds herself in need of an assistant and bodyguard and wished to know if I had any students suitable for the position. I can think of no other who might serve so well as you.”

“So, I’m to leave, then?” Latharna asked. “And go to the Dozen Stars to serve an ambassador I’ve never met? I’m… I’m honored, headmistress, but I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“Oh?” the Headmistress asked; her expression was unreadable by most human standards, but Latharna had been around her long enough to recognize the faint flicking in her crest that signified wry amusement. “I will not, of course, force you to take a position you do not want, but I find myself surprised. You graduated at the top of your class, did you not? And I thought you had always wished to see the Dozen Stars? Or was I mistaken?”

“No, Headmistress,” Latharna admitted. She’d always been fascinated by the neighboring Kingdom and had spent much of her childhood and adolescence, the strange girl that other children had rarely wanted to spend time with, reading novels and histories set there that described romance and war, glamour and intrigue. Still, it had always seemed a distant thing. “But surely Ambassador Preas would rather have an assistant who is more experienced in diplomacy and politics, not a student fresh from the Academy?”

“The Ambassador specifically requested a youth, preferably a girl,” the Headmistress said, “and I think I know why. You’ve heard, no doubt, of the recent troubles surrounding the Dozen Stars’ throne. The new queen is about your age, and untried, facing unrest; nonetheless, the interests of Realtran find her preferable to the alternatives. I suspect that Ceana wants someone who can befriend young Artakane in the hopes of increasing her influence over her. The Queen shares your own passion for dueling, I believe; therefore, you already have common ground.”

“So, I’m to be a pawn in someone’s political games, then?” Latharna asked bitterly.

The Headmistress regarded her with her large dark eyes. “Today’s pawns may be tomorrow’s players,” she said. “And it is time, I think, for you to leave my care and seek your fortune elsewhere. This an opportunity for you, child, regardless of its reasons. It would be foolish of you to turn it down. But I believe that if anyone seeks to make you their tool, they will find themselves sorely mistaken.”

Latharna paused on the edge of the path for a long moment, staring at her reflection in one of the pools, listening to the sound of the Headmistress’s birds singing in the trees around them. She murmured a quick prayer to the Lord under her breath, seeking guidance, but if there was any supernatural insight to be found here, it didn’t show itself in any overt way. Finally, she sighed and turned back to the Headmistress. “All right,” she said. “Tell Ambassador Preas that I accept the position.”

The Headmistress blinked and her crest ruffled, and Latharna could tell she was smiling. “I had a feeling you would say yes,” she said; gliding over, she put a hand on her ward’s shoulder. The Headmistress was not a physically demonstrative person – it was, so Latharna had read, a common trait of her species – and such a gesture was the equivalent of what a hug from a human might signify. “I am proud to have had you in my care, Latharna Dhenloc. Go with the Lord’s blessing upon you, and whatever may happen, never forget who you are or where you have come from.”

“I won’t, Headmistress,” Latharna said, despite herself feeling tears pooling in the edges of her eyes, behind her lenses. “I promise.”

///

Several days later, Latharna made her way through the crowded spaceport in Dansa City, a decently sized urban area not far from the Academy. She’d visited the city many times during her years at the Academy, but still found the crowds hard to get used to; fortunately, most people were ignoring her as they went about on business of their own, so she didn’t have to deal with them. She wore her hood up, shielding her sensitive skin from burning too badly in the sun, and carried a bag with her few personal possessions slung over one shoulder. Beyond that, she carried nothing with her as she traveled to a new stage in her life.

She found the starship that the Headmistress had chartered her passage on near the end of the main terminal and boarded quickly; the ticket officer had raised his eyebrows, impressed, when he saw that her pass had the Headmistress’s signature on it. Inside the ship, she stowed her bag and took a seat by the window. Slowly the cabin filled with passengers, most of them men and women who were dressed like they were important – but then, that was unsurprising; in the current unsettled state of the Dozen Stars, most people who travelled there did so on business, not pleasure.

Once the passengers were all settled, the ship’s engines thrummed to life beneath it and then, slowly, it lifted off; Latharna felt a thrill rush through her as she realized that she was about to leave Gearrach behind for the first time in her clear memory. Pressing her face to the window, aware that she looked like an overly excited child but finding that in the moment she didn’t much care, she watched as she city shrunk away beneath her and the rich green of the surrounding landscape came to dominate her view. She thought she saw the Academy flash away far below, and then the ship was lifting up into the upper atmosphere and beyond, leaving Gearrach behind.

A few moments later, they were sufficiently far from the planet to enter jump, and Gearrach vanished entirely. Latharna Dhenloc felt that she had crossed a barrier over which she couldn’t return. The Academy where she had spent all of her childhood was gone, and now she was heading for Carann and the unknown future that awaited there.

///

Brother Ronall watched the sky from the Academy courtyard, almost fancying he could see Latharna’s ship streaking away, though he knew that it was incredibly unlikely. Sighing, he turned to look at the Headmistress, whose black eyes were still fixed on the heavens as she absently stroked one of her birds that was perched on her wrist.

“Well,” the old monk said, wrapping his robe more tightly around himself, “I suppose this means I’ll have to get used to teaching all of my own classes again, eh? A pity to see that girl go. I hope the ambassador appreciates her.”

“She is where she needs to be,” the Headmistress said. “We taught her well. Now she will have to use what she has learned. Things will be happening soon in that Kingdom, my friend. But I believe Latharna will rise to the challenge, or I wouldn’t have permitted her to go.”

“Lord, you’re always so dramatic, aren’t you?” Ronall asked, though he smiled. Then, as he noticed the determined cast to the Headmistress’s features, his expression became more serious. “Do you know something the rest of us don’t? What exactly is about to happen over there, anyway? Is there a reason you decided to send Latharna instead of recommending someone else? How much do you really know?”

The Headmistress only ruffled her crest in the equivalent of a mysterious smile, then turned and made her way back through the garden, her birds singing softly around her.