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LUNARA

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Chapter Forty-Eight: Musings of Duty - Part Four

Galactic Location: Theocratic Imperium’s cluster

Ruling Government: Theocratic Imperium

Solar System: Adrius

Location: Adrius Prime

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Six Months ago - one hour after the first Preliminary Trial

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Solara and I have walked in silence since we left the preliminary trials bloodbath, having just finished changing into fresh clothes and washing the stains of blood from our bodies. My body may be free of the blood, but it still plays in my mind. I do not know which haunts me more though, the screams or the faces they came from.

“I should be honest with you,” Solara says as we walk through the corridor toward the medical wing to meet up with Becca and Claude.

“About?” I query, my mind barely in focus, the scenes of blood from the preliminary trial still fresh in it.

She stops abruptly, and there is tension in her as she turns to me. My attention moves fully to her as she muses her thoughts.

“Our mothers were friends.” Solara begins, musing it further “Or at least that’s what mine told me.”

My brow furrows, friends? Solara begins walking again, I follow, though I am curious. So, did she approach me on purpose? It was not a coincidence then.

“Who is your mother?” I ask, our pace quickens as we pass by hollowed eyes.

“Renna, the third daughter of the late Primus of House Draconis,” Solara says.

My mother had mentioned her a few times, but she was often evasive about her life before House Ravena. Her past was as much a mystery to me as what lies beyond the stars. Though connecting that our mothers knew each other, our names suddenly seem less coincidental.

“Our names then?” I ask, thinking further about it.

“Yes.” She says, with a small smile, flicking her red hair with her hand “Named in honor of the sun's fire.”

My hand traces my hair, no longer stained with blood, named in honor of the moon’s glow. The only difference between my mother's white hair and mine was the streaks of black that flow through it, owing to my father.

“When I saw your hair, it reminded me of the stories my mother told me of yours.” She recalls, there is a fondness in her tone “White hair like winter’s first snow basked in moonlight.”

My mother had never told me of Renna having a daughter, though she had told me of my name and the meaning behind it. There must be some truth in Solara’s words.

“So that’s why you approached me?” I ask her, still ruminating on the discovery.

“When I saw your hair, I was curious. When I heard you say your name to Dallus… I was fairly certain. But when I saw the insignia of House Ravena, I was sure.” Solara says, glancing over at me “Hearing the stories of our mothers growing up, I often fantasized about meeting you. I’m sure that sounds silly though. Pay it no mind.”

My mind wonders if she is trying to trick me for some ulterior motive, my heart tells me her words are as innocent as they sound. Leaving me confused about how I should answer her. She seems earnest, so I will approach it as such. If the first preliminary trial made me realize anything, it is that having an ally is essential to survival here.

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“Well, I am glad that we met,” I say finally, giving her a warm but cautious smile.

“As am I,” she says, returning the smile, and pulling up her hair.

Strangely though, as she ties her hair up into a neat bun, I notice the tips of her ears aren’t as long as most of our race, they are like mine, shorter yet still pointed. She is not a pure-blooded Alverian either. She glances at me, catching me looking at them.

“My grandmother, on my mother’s side, she was not of Alverian blood,” Solara says, her gaze turning from me, looking away, almost as though she is ashamed.

“Did your mother not tell you?” I ask her.

“Tell me what?”

My hand traces through my hair as I lift the sides of it so she can see my ears as well.

She looks at them for a moment. Stopping in her tracks.

“How are you the heir apparent then?” she asks, looking at me sideways “The Theocratic Imperium’s mandate.”

“The Republic is home to many races,” I explain, pulling my hair up into a tight bun “We do not always follow the decorum of the Imperium.”

“Perhaps I should join your house then.” She jests, though the way she says it, I almost believe her.

She pauses outside one of the doors as we make it to the medical ward, swiping her credentials on it. Moans can be heard in the halls coming from the other rooms. As we step through the door, I see Becca sitting by the bed, holding her cousin Claude’s hand. His shoulder is wrapped in Nera corporation gauze soaked in Medigel. His face looks battered. On his left hand, he is missing several fingers.

“How is he?” Solara asks Becca.

“They said he will wake soon.” She replies, somberly.

It strikes me that these Nobles seem more emotional than most I have met. I wonder if they too do not use their implants as they ought. Or perhaps they merely feign it. Though in truth I do not know the standards for the Gallec Empire. I only know that most Houses in the Republic require those of Noble birth to use them, lest their emotions destroy the lives of trillions of their subjects. A practice often heavily encouraged by the Theocratic Imperium, as they are the ones who provide them.

“Then we will wait with you,” Solara says, placing a hand on Becca’s shoulder.

Taking a seat at the edge of the room, my mind drifts through what has happened, the blood and gore that painted the room for the preliminary trial. My eyes fall downwards from the wall towards my hands, they tremble, and I tighten my grip on them… a warrior of House Ravena does not show weakness. Straightening myself in the chair, I look over at Solara, she is deep in her thoughts it would appear as well. I want to ask her more about our mothers, but I think better about it. It would be improper of me, given the situation.

“He’s waking up!” Becca yells, standing up from the chair near the bed and shaking Claude, he jerks awake and blinks his eyes quickly.

“How do you feel?” Solara asks him.

It takes him a moment to reply, his eyes blinking and taking in the room.

“Better than I look I’d wager.” Claude groans as he sits up more.

Becca grabs his shoulder firmly. A welling of tears that wish to strike the ground almost fall from her eyes. They do not appear to be feigned. Unusual.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” Becca says, punching his shoulder.

He recoils in pain, shooting her a look of irritation. His eyes trail over towards me and Solara.

“You both saved my life, Becca’s too. Thank you.” Claude says, giving a weak bow from the bed.

“They had to shoot you with a stunner to put you down, even under that gravity.” Becca says, a sly smile on her face as she says “What they say about Ravens isn’t all smoke it would seem.”

I know that she is trying to compliment me, but a sick feeling comes from my gut as I recall the gore that my hands created. My House teaches that one should take pride in such a thing, yet that is not what I feel.

“Dallus tried to kill you,” Claude says looking to Solara now.

“He doesn’t want any threats for succession.” Solara says with a sigh, her voice hoarse and distant as she looks over at me, looking down at my bandaged wound, she finishes by saying genuinely “Thank you.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t finish him,” I say. My brow furrows as I feel disgusted with myself suddenly as I hear my own words, the images coming back up into my mind. My stomach rolls and feels like it wants to spill my breakfast. I cannot show weakness though, so I grit it back.

“Probably better you weren’t the one to do it. You don’t want the House Draconis as an enemy, you kill their heir, trial or not they will hunt you down to the ends of the galaxy.” Claude says.

I suddenly feel regret for not studying the various Houses more before coming here. Yekka would always scold me when she found me going off to train with Kotina. Always telling me that the heir apparent must know the ins and outs of every Noble House in the galaxy, no matter how small. A lesson that I will now strive to listen to.

“You’ll need to watch your back either way Luna, her cousin Dallus is… a vengeful creature,” Becca says with a strained look of worry on her face.

“Becca isn’t wrong, he will want revenge,” Solara says pensively.

“I know,” I say. Now recalling the way he looked at me. It was not that I wanted to cut him or the others down, it was what was required of me. Musings of duty fill my mind, making me wonder what else I will be required to do. My thoughts are interrupted by a noise.

A knock on the door resounds in the room before anyone can speak again. I instinctually grab my weapon’s hilt, my eyes darting back and forth. I can see the same reaction in Solara’s eyes as her hand moves to her hip gripping her Ionic blade’s hilt too.

The door opens and all my fear dissipates as I see my father come through the sliding door. Barely fitting through the sides of it with his broad shoulders, he gives me a nod. The others give him a customary bow. He waves them up and walks over towards me, he is about to speak, but his gaze falls on Solara. There is a tensing of his jaw before he turns to me.

“Inquisitor Victoria has summoned you.” My father says.