The bird beneath Sora heaved as the prince’s party crested the last dune outside the city of Jael. The sun was setting along the eastern horizon, bathing the city in a gold nimbus of dusky light. The color reminded Sora of a festering boil.

The prince pushed the procession towards the gates, riders sagging in their saddles, threatening to drop into the sand. Sora didn’t feel much better herself, and by the look of them, neither did Leahan or Botaran. Lawthe looked to be holding on though; barely.

During the forced march through the hot day, they lost about thirty of the hundred gin they’d brought with them and nearly as many of the two hundred liveried soldiers. Sora rode behind Lawthe, Leahan, and Botaran either side of her, expression wan but still alert.

The three of them treated the march as a test, competing to show the least amount of exhaustion. The cut in Sora’s back ached around stiff muscles, fresh blood still oozing from the wound, but she kept up the calm exterior. From the queasy way the pain tore at her, though, she guessed the wound was infected.

Need some water, little sister? Leahan signed to her in hand-talk, a hint of a smirk on his face. None but another Jah Annan would be able to pick up on the expression. She just stared at him, somehow managing to stay straight-backed atop her moa.

The party reached the gate, the gin separating towards the shanty slave ghettos built alongside the city’s tall sandstone walls. From where Sora sat, the nearest one seemed strangely devoid of activity. The majority of the gin and the working gerin should have been waking for their shifts at the factories.

Now that she looked, the usual columns of smoke near the city docks were absent.

She pushed the thought aside. She didn’t have enough energy to think about anything unnecessary at that moment. Crossing the bridge to the gate itself, the remaining procession was stopped by large iron doors and shouts from the soldiers above.

Kaeto gestured towards Adarelle, and the woman nudged her mount forward. “Party of the prince, Kaeto! We’ve returned with a report for the council!” She shouted, voice hoarse and dry. Sora grimaced, feeling the sandy grit in her own throat.

At the steward’s words, the sound from the gatehouse cut off as soldiers ran about to open the wicket gate.

“Apologies, Master Prince!” Somebody shouted from atop the battlements. “We’ve had reports of Haetnellian activity out in the dunes, so the council voted to close the city. Again, you have my apologies, my lord. We’ll have you and your men in with due haste.”

Glancing at the prince’s face, Sora noted the solid set to his jaw. They’d pushed so hard, losing a painful amount of men in the march, why hadn’t the council at least sent a runner to meet them?

But the prince stayed silent as the smaller wicket gate swung open, and the soldiers dressed in various liveried colors guided them inside the city. They had to march inside two at a time, and the gate barely had enough clearance for the wagons, but eventually, the entire party was inside.

The watch captain approached the prince, gait stiff and calm as he saluted with a bow. “See, these men are given a good reprieve captain and have the supplies returned to the warehouses.”

“As you command, my lord. Would you care for an escort to follow you to the citadel ?” the captain said. Kaeto just shook his head, kicking his bird into motion.

“That will not be necessary, master captain. The shield himself is more than enough security. However, I would have you send a runner to inform the council that these three outlanders will be joining me. They come with a story the council might find interesting.”

The captain bowed again. “As you say, lord prince. It will be done.”

Kaeto nodded, gesturing for the rest of the group to follow him. Together, the nine made their way through the unusually quiet sandstone streets, winding around gray adobe buildings with thick blood-red jousts jutting out from the tops of walls.

Thin sheets of cloth hung between the joists, shading the street beneath bright blue, red, green, yellow, and orange strips of linen. Here and there, they passed the odd citizen, each of whom would promptly make themselves scarce.

The citadel loomed over the city atop a tall plateau, its walls casting a shadow over the southeast portion of the city. The group reached the elevator house, and the guardsmen around the contraption immediately saluted and bowed, seeing the prince’s black fox emblem emblazoned on their saddles.

Before boarding the giant contraption, they handed their bird off to a pair of grooms from the royal stables. They barely managed to fit everyone, including the operator, inside.

Sora had to use her staff to stay upright and suspected by the way Leahan was leaning on his own weapon that he was in a similar state. She smirked at him, and he glared back. Subtly, of course.

The large metal platform shook and rattled as it lurched into motion, making Sora’s stomach do a flip. Leahan gestured towards her with both hands. Do you need somebody to hold you steady, little sister? Her smirk vanished, and she barely managed to keep from scowling at the smug look on the other Jah Annan’s face.

Botaran moved as if to do just as Leahan had suggested, and Sora’s hands flashed, touch me, and I’ll send you on a one-way trip back down. She wasn’t glaring; the sun was just in her eyes.

Botaran stepped back, and Sora caught the hint of reproach in Lawthe’s face. She felt an immediate flash of guilt twist around her stomach at the look.

While Leahan was always taunting and teasing her, Botaran had been genuinely kind, but surely even he could see why she didn’t want his help. She was strong enough to stand on her own.

The elevator lurched to a stop with the screech of metal gears grinding together, and Sora reflexively stiffened, tightening her grip around the haft of her sword-staff. She had to fight back to nausea, a mixture of motion sickness and dehydration.

Ushering the nine out of his elevator, the operator seemed as relieved as Sora that the thing hadn’t collapsed. They step from the elevator into the Gratiana plaza, a great semicircle of ridged marble columns surrounding the most extravagant mosaic in all of Jiovar.

The scene depicted with vibrant tiles colored with glowing alchemical showed the seven great stars stacked one above the other in cyclical order beneath an equally large moon,

The first star a person reached walking from the lift to the citadel was Ferg, the star of flame. The group passed over the tiles, and Sora smiled as she watched Lawthe’s earring light up with a thin line of orange light.

It was something he’d done for as long as she could remember every time he walked through the plaza. They passed the metal star, Ota, and a line of red joined the orange. Star by star, the silver-glass band grew brighter.

Lews brought blue, Elan green, and finally, he added a line of yellow for Aian. As quick as each line of kar appeared, they all disappeared at once when they passed over Mito and Mora. Unlike the other five, the last two great stars were depicted as overlapping, black and white mixing into grey. Legends said they’d been like that in the days before the shattering.

Nobody ever commented on Lawthe’s habit. It was simply something he did, and nobody knew why, nor could they bring themselves to ask. It brought back memories for Sora, though, times returning from training or chores, watching him perform the ritual brought her a bit of peace.

However, the pain in her back was decidedly distracting from that usually opulent peaceful feeling. At the far side of the plaza rose an imposing slope of steep stone steps leading up to the council chamber.

Lawthe made a quick motion with his hand, dismissing Sora, Leahan, and Botaran for the night. Present yourselves at midnight for new orders, he sent. The three bowed to the shield before splitting away from the rest of the party, moving to the slave gate in the plaza’s southern wall.

The gate opened silently, and they strode inside the Jah Annan barracks, Leahan taking the lead. Despite the Jah Annan’s placid expression and posture, the man somehow walked with an arrogant air more befitting a freeman than a Jah Annan.

Botaran nudged her slightly, causing a flash of pain in Sora’s back. She managed not to wince. The other Jah Annan’s hands flashed in hand talk. Are you okay, little sister?

She let a smile settle onto her face for the man. She didn’t like him acting like this where Leahan could see, but he was Botaran, so she could forgive that. His expression held an air of concern only he could manage as a Jah Annan. Frankly, it amazed her.

Just a penance slash, she sent quickly. I’ll be alright. Thank you for asking, brother.

Giving her a smile in return, he nodded. Need help with the dressing?

You know that’s not how penance wounds work, brother. She replied, gestures slightly more forceful. Botaran wasn’t supposed to ask her that, but he’d always been a caring boy, despite the chastisement of the slave masters.

It was just who he was. Not that that made him weak though, in fact, he was a better fighter than she could ever dream of being.

Leahan stopped and turned to them when they reached their quarters, small rooms with barely a cot, table, and clothing chest in each. Despite the size, they were private, unlike the rest of the citadel’s slave barracks.

“Well, brother, little sister,” Leahan began, and Sora sighed. Somehow when he called her that, it felt infinitely more patronizing. “Rest well, and don’t hesitate to ask if you need help with your bandage Sora.”

He smirked at her, voice taunting her. For some reason, the man seemed to ignore most of their training against allowing emotion to rule action. Sora scowled and replied, “I’d sooner cut off my sword hand.”

Leahan just laughed at that. “Well, if you change your mind, I’m only two doors away,” he said with an arrogant wink, then ducked inside his room. Botaran gave her a slightly uncomfortable smile.

“He means well, Sora. Just be patient with him.”

Sora sighed, the pain in her back beginning to finally exhaust her stamina. “Sure, Botaran. I’ll try. Rest easy, brother,” she said.

The other Jah Annan nodded to her and replied, “Rest easy, little sister.” Then, they both moved to their own rooms.

Immediately Sora peeled off her armor, weapons, and clothing, pulling free the bloody remnants of her last bandage. Gingerly, she felt around the wound, testing the swollen flesh. Something oozed onto her fingers, followed by a sharp stab of pain. She jerked her and her hand away to find sticky white puss.

Definitely an infection, then. Sora sighed. Perhaps now Lawthe could heal the thing. It’d been two days now, and infections were often treated as exceptions to penance. Stars, she hoped he’d do something.

Rummaging through her chest, she found the last of her torpwin leaves. Retrieving one, she split the thick spiny leaf apart, scraping out the transparent goo with a belt knife before spreading it along the length of a fresh bandage.

That should help with the pain, at least. At best, the infection would be gone by the morning, but torpwin leaves weren’t great for that.

Pressing the bandage gently along the straight slash in her back, she winced. A wave of cold washed over her as the gel began its work, beginning to numb most of the pain. With an abundance of care, she rose, then tested the limits of her mobility.

Apparently, a cut to the back was somewhat impactful on a person’s movement, and not in a good way. She yelped at a spike of pain that lanced through her when she tried to twist. She scowled. She’d promised Lawthe she’d surpass him on their return to Jael but in her condition. It wasn’t happening.

She sighed, leaning back against the wall between her and Botaran’s quarters, careful not to put pressure on the wound. Settled, she began tapping a simple rhythm against the adobe wall. A few seconds later, tapping came from the other side of the adobe, joined hers. Smiling, she closed her eyes, slowly drifting off.

Her mind spun in the depths of slumber, twisting around thoughts and memories. She was neither tangible nor real, just existed inside the dark passages. Dreams drifted across the surface of her mind, one after another, until her thoughts fixed on one.

She saw a black desert fox fight a sea snake the size of a man beneath a moon bathed in purple-black light. Watched as two halves of a torn tapestry flew apart on gusts of wind, and a single star fell from the sky.

Sora woke slowly, groaning as she rose off the hard ground. Why had she fallen asleep there of all places? She pushed the shutters to her window open and glanced up at the night sky. The moon hung near its zenith, Mito not far behind.

A sigh broke from her lips before she could stop it, and Sora turned back to her room, slipping into fresh clothes. She spent close to an hour washing and oiling steel before donning her armor and weapons and leaving the small sleeping space.

Both Leahan and Botaran stood outside their doors, chatting while waiting for her. Sora stifled a groan. Other Jah Annan strode down the barracks hall, black cloaks billowing in the pale blue glow of moonstones fixed to the walls.

“The little sister rises at last. I was beginning to worry Mito’s wrath had taken you in your sleep,” Leahan said, a characteristic smirk plastered to his stupid face. Sora just flashed him a rude gesture.

“Rest well, brother?” She asked Botaran, ignoring the other idiot.

Botaran’s smile was warm as usual. “Yes, sister, I did. Thank you.” He gave her a slight bow, not strictly proper but not indecent either.

“We should get to the practice grounds before the Shield decides we’re slacking off,” Leahan said, his expression showing his satisfaction at Sora’s ignoring him.

Botaran nodded, and the three walked away into the heart of the citadel grounds. The flat adobe walls of the Jah Annan quarters gave way to smooth marble and tall columns as they left the slave gate and crossed the Gratiana plaza.

Their posture’s visibly straightened as they passed through the gate, their Jah Annan training kicking in. They could act as they wished for the most part beyond the slave gate, but outside, elegance and poise were demanded.

The liveried regulars, each dressed in at least one of the seven star colors, gave way to the Jah Annan, averting their gazes respectfully before shuffling past. The bottoms of their sword staves clicked against limestone tile, boots squeaking on the polished stone.

The training grounds were little more than a sand-filled pit surrounded on all sides by tall colonnaded stands lit with moonstones for the curious to watch. Sometimes they held combat trials, tournaments, and duels on the grounds, but the latter two were rare.

Lawthe stood inspecting the training equipment, blunted sabers and spears, and only gave the trio a momentary glance as they approached. To Sora’s surprise, the shield was flanked on either side by the speaker of the hall, Lord Jahn, and the royal astrologian, Stargazer Jotaranell.

“Rest well, children?” He asked, frowning at one of the training spears. In unison, all three saluted and bowed before falling onto one knee.

“Yes, shield. We await your command,” Leahan said, much to Sora’s irritation. It wasn’t his place to speak for all of them.

“Stand, we have much to discuss today,” Lawthe said, and the three did as he commanded. Jahn stepped forward, one hand to his chin as he looked Sora up and down. She kept her gaze straight ahead, avoiding looking at the speaker.

“Are you sure about this one, Shield? I’m not the best judge of a warrior’s might, but she seems… frail to me,” Jahn said. A flash of anger rose in Sora before she snuffed it out. It was his right to judge her so.

“I am as certain as one can be in such things, Master Speaker. Physically, she is as apt as any other Jah Annan. As for her capacity with kar, you’d have to ask Master Jotaranell,” Lawthe said, head bent respectfully as he spoke.

The astrologian nodded as Jahn’s gaze drifted towards him. “I have seen to her training myself, Lord Jahn. I was the one who suggested her appointment to Jah Annan as an infant after all. It was difficult to get Gael to look past her being female, but even he would admit her worth.”

A burst of pride fluttered in Sora’s chest, tempered only by a line of confusion. They couldn’t be talking about her potential as shield, could they? That position was earned, not given. Beside her, she felt Leahan shuffle uncomfortably. Thankfully it seemed no one else noticed.

Jahn pulled his gaze away from Sora to inspect the other two. “And you’re replacement, Lawthe? Which of these two have you chosen?”

That burning burst of pride in Sora’s chest spluttered and died. Was the man just forgetting her candidacy? Why had he asked after her capabilities then?

“As you are well aware, Master Jahn, that is not my decision to make. I have confidence one of them will best me soon enough.”

The speaker nodded, rubbing his red beard in contemplation. “Very well, shield. I leave the matter to you and your pupils then.”

Lawthe bowed deeply. “Thank you, Lord Jahn.”

From behind them, Jotaranell sighed pointedly. “I hate to interrupt, Master Jahn, but I would like to take the girl now. The ritual must be performed soon if our plans are to be realized.”

Jahn turned to glance at the astrologian, then nodded. “You are right, Jotaranell. Shield, will you release the girl into our custody?”

Lawthe stayed bowed as he gave his reply. “My apologies, masters. She might meet the standards you set, but she has yet to finish her training. I would beg to leave to see it finished.”

Jahn and Jotaranell shared a glance before Jahn spoke slowly. “Very well, Shield. You have a week to finish her training, then she will be left in the master stargazer’s custody. Is that an adequate arrangement?”

“Yes, my lord. I will see it done,” Lawthe said, voice deep with respect and gratitude. Sora just stared on in bewilderment.

“We should be off then, Jotaranell. Come, the council and king are waiting,” Jahn said, and the two men quickly walked from the training grounds.

Sora rounded on Lawthe, barely holding back the anger and incredulity welling up inside her. “What did they mean, Lawthe? What were they talking about? Aren’t I one of your students?”

Lawthe sighed, glancing over Leahan and Botaran. The pair seemed just as surprised as Sora felt. “You are my student, Sora, and I had hoped you would prove yourself worthy of my title,” Lawthe said. Leahan snorted, but the shield ignored him.

“There is not much I can tell you as of now, but certain things have changed. You will no longer be trained for the role of shield. You will instead….” Lawthe trailed off as if struggling to form the final words.

“You will be trained instead to be the kingdom’s sword.”

A pit of dread opened beneath Sora, making her feel as if she were suddenly falling through abyssal depths. In the sky above, Mito’s glow seemed unusually bright. Sora laughed at that. It was indeed a night worthy of the dark star’s blighted light.