Desperate to escape my peril, I wrestled with the rubble that held my leg. It hurt, but I pulled against the pain. I fought until the rocks began to shift, but the result was the opposite of what I had hoped for. A large rock slid down and crushed my leg underneath. I could feel the bones shatter and pierce my skin. I felt weak, scared, and angry.

I pulled again, trying with all of my might to free myself, grinding my teeth and screaming against the pain, but it was no use. Finally, I laid back and closed my eyes, too tired to fight any longer. I could no longer hear my Gr’apa’s muffled screaming from the pile of stone that was once our family shop. I couldn’t hear anything, except the steady drip of my own blood puddling on the ground. I focused on that sound, shutting everything else out.

As I did this, I imagined the way that the blood rippled like a pool of water when the droplets hit it, rippling the surface and keeping it from settling. I saw all the different paths that it took around my leg – so many twisting paths that all led to the same inevitable ending. I needed to find a new way, a new path for it to take. It was the only thought I could muster. Find a new path.

Just then, something incredible happened. First, the steady dripping sound stopped. I thought that I must surely be running empty of blood for it to have stopped. Then, I felt the rocks pressing in against my leg from every angle, not just the stones that were touching me, but all the stones that were piled on top of me. It was as if my skin had been stretched out across the debris, and I felt everything, from the gritty sand and debris on the rocks, to the ground where my life force was pooling up under me.

The last thing that happened was an explosion, much smaller than the one that had destroyed my family’s shop, but just as powerful. All of the rocks and rubble shot outward, away from me. I was able to drag myself to safety, pulling myself along by my arms. When I slid away from the wreckage and looked back, I realized that the pool of blood was all gone. There was only stone now, with no signs that I had almost bled out there only a moment ago.

I could not make sense of what had happened, didn’t even have the strength to attempt to think more about it. There was now a crowd gathering at the front of the shop which had stood in that spot since the planet was colonized, seven generations ago. I tried to look around at those who were gathering, but my vision was blurred. As a few gathered around to make sure I was okay, I noticed the familiar helmet, which held the beautiful face of a killer underneath. I couldn’t run from her, and felt, not for the first time today, that I was about to die.

She ran to me, shouting at the bystanders to take action. A few of the onlookers started stirring then, running toward the nearest emergency service shop a few streets over. Once she was satisfied that someone would be coming for help, she came to me and checked my throat for a pulse. I coughed through my cloth face covering, a cloud of dust puffing up from the creases in the fabric.

The woman pulled out a small air canister and shook it, then forced my mouth open and placed the end of the canister inside, providing me with the cleanest air I had tasted since I turned in my school-issued autofilter mask many spins ago. As the carbon filled my lungs, I was able to think more clearly and sat up, breathing slowly in and out until the authorities arrived on scene. The woman slipped back into the crowd, now full enough of wealthy Alturans that her mask didn’t stand out as much.

The medic that had checked on me said that I had lost a lot of blood, but wasn’t sure where it all could have gone. She told me to get rest and as much water as I could manage. I thanked her, then stood at the rope line that had been put up to preserve the scene. There were a hundred little silver beetles crawling all through the rubble, storing images of the wreckage from every possible angle.

I had asked the medic about my Gr’apa, but she said that no other survivors were recovered. I stood alone, my eyes fixed on the small hole in the large pile where my leg had been. I knew that the Skyfallen were responsible for this. They took the only things I had left in this world.

I will make them pay, I thought. A childish thought, really. How could I do anything to stop the entire Terran Empire? I couldn’t even stop them from destroying my Gr’apa’s store. My Gr’apa.

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“It all seems a little more real when you lose someone you love,” said a crackly voice from behind me. I turned and saw the woman again. I wrinkled my nose and turned back toward the wreckage. I heard the shuffle of the sand underneath her heavy boots.

“What do you want from me? I’ve already made it clear I don’t know what I could do to help you, so what are you hoping to get out of following me?” I asked.

“Well, for starters, you can tell me who taught you the blood work.” The metal helmet moved up and down as she looked me over. “I’ve spent most of my life practicing under the best blood mages, the strongest warriors, and still I could not have saved myself the way that you did.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t know how I got free. I must have gotten some superhuman strength from my desire to not be crushed to death. I don’t know how to do blood magic any more than you might know how to make a toy. Who are you, anyway? What do you want from me?”

“You don’t get it, do you? Do you even know who your father was?” She stared at me, mouth open. “I thought your hate for the Terrans was born from the loss of your father.” She laughed then, rubbing her head. “I guess you are just a little crazy.”

“My father was part of the peace envoy that we sent to the Belt. They chose him because he was a peaceful man, respected by our people.” I lifted my head up high, proud of my father’s accomplishments. He had done great things for our city, ensured that we were considered in all of the Capital’s dealings. When the king announced that Altura would have representatives from every major city, Boh’Gren immediately chose my father.

The Belt is a nasty bit of space, from what the rumors say. The rumors turned out to be true, I guess. Out of the 43 delegates that went to broker a peace with the Empire, none survived. Add them to the hundred or more in the crew, and it makes for a lot of dead Alturans. I didn’t like talking about my father, because it didn’t do any good. He was dead, just like anyone else unlucky enough to take a hit from an asteroid.

“He is respected by his people. He knew that the time would come when he could no longer protect you. Now, you must come with me. Join us to stand against the Skyfallen, before it is too late!” She sounded hastened now, like the words may not get out fast enough. I shook my head at all of this. For the hundredth time that day, I didn’t know what to think, what to feel.

“My father died when I was still a boy. All I had left in the world was in that building.” I gestured to the pile of stones, still crawling with the investigative little beetles probing every inch of the explosion site. I was angry by this point, too angry to even think rationally. I pushed away from her and began walking down the path back toward home. Then, another thought hit me.

“Who the hell are you, anyway? You seem like a blood mage, but you don’t wear the uniform and you are too old to not have your teeth completely filed. You have all of this expensive tech, but not the standard issue blood mage helmet. Who are you?” I turned on her while firing the accusations off one after another, a verbal assault akin to a spray shooter.

She just let me unload all of my observations, not reacting, until I finally stopped to take a breath. “Done? Good. My name, for all it does to tell you, is Baila. I knew your father. He was one of the best blood mages Altura has ever seen.” I gave her a look that suggested my disbelief, but she continued. “I didn’t realize that it was you when you attacked me in the alley, or even when I followed you to your apartment, but now I know you must join with us to stop the Skyfallen.”

“As for the rest, well… The Empire was able to infiltrate us before my formal training was complete, but I don’t think I had what it took to take the final oath, anyway. I could perform some small works, but anyone could learn those with the right effort. The tech belonged to my father. He was part of the delegation too, but he was killed before the ship even made it out of our orbit. Someone found out we were trying to get rebel leaders off the planet and did everything they could to stop it.”

“But… I thought you said it was all a trick?” I asked her, trying to piece together all the new information on the heels of so much that I still didn’t understand. “The delegation was just an excuse to hide the rebels.” That means my father was a rebel.

“He was shot in the head before he could make it to the port to board. Someone leaked his identity, along with half a dozen others. Luckily, nobody was told who else would be on the ship until after it had already left port, so it was impossible to get them to turn over their accomplices. Even with torture, they just didn’t know who else would be there.”

I still didn’t believe her, but I started weighing my other options and realized all I had left was to put my trust in Baila.