Helshar was a world of contradictions. Half cloaked in shadows, the other half a bright icy pallor that resisted the sun’s light. It had all the backwater appeal of a world destined to belong in the Imperial Interior but it was instead nestled deep within the Core. A fact Korsha still couldn’t wrap her head around. The Core was a place of privilege, prestige, extravagance and above all else the ignorance to life’s baser challenges save one. Paranoia.

There was only three things that Core worlders feared and Korsha was one of them. Though the Core tasted only but a drop of the violence and bloodshed that had drowned and stained the colonies of the Interior, it was in not fully capturing that bitter elixir that fueled their idle minds. To them mages were a manifestation of chaos. Beings heralded as end-time prophets whose sole purpose was to bring the glory of the Dominion to its end.

Mages were the kinds of things that crept, crawled, skittered and lurked. Shadows within shadows. Monsters who wrapped themselves in the familiar faces of family and friends. Things that the jaegryn, those brutal bloodthirsty hunters, turned away from. Korsha wondered if that was because, jaegryn like mages, found themselves straddling the line between acceptance and the other. Regardless, the jaegryn were the heroes of holo-vids while mages were the villains.

Korsha let out a weary sigh, one born of a regret not for her own actions but those of her predecessors. People were right to fear the seeds of wickedness Azaelah sowed. There was no telling when the potent fruit would bear witness, grafting itself upon the soul until only a loyal servant of crafted and strategic pandemonium. Though it wasn’t to the level that they feared. One rogue mage wasn't going to topple a city.

Not when there were technomancers to hold the line.

Shaking her musings off, she clasped her hands about her, already preparing to stave off the cold that was no doubt lying in wait for her. Another of Helshar’s strange contradictions came from the world’s profile. And why would she? No prisoner need understand their prison. Yet seeing the document surprised her. Halshar was a crusader world. For a long moment she’d considered if this had been the vaunted enshrined seat of Azaelah before her failed rebellion and subsequent naming but it didn’t make sense. Nor did any of the other children of the Imperial Goddess.

A crusader world was one protected by an active deity of some sort. It wasn’t uncommon for there to be fealtied gods within the Dominion. They were as numerous as the graves of those whose haughty refusal to submit to her Imperial Majesty. If the aspect had been killed by one of the slayers then the naming convention would be changed. Yet the title remained denoting an unseen guardian Korsha had neither seen nor heard of.

The ship dipped down, falling into the clouds as flames streaked along its surface. Soon they were free of the trembling grasp of the atmosphere and now nestled within the world’s embrace. She could see the small trading village of Urst-Bajin in the distance. A black dot on an otherwise empty canvas of icy.

When she was younger she'd been out Urst-Bajin. It was the only permanent structure in the region save for the Academy. Deidra and herself had been escorted out there by Tal and another older technomancer. She'd always considered Deidra to be far more aesthetically pleasing than herself. Sturdy build with faint curves, fiery hair that cascaded down in a tumble of perfect curls, fine porcelain skin splattering of chestnut freckles that gave her an enchanting old world beauty. Yet above all else, it was her smile. It’s power… It’s radiance… It’s genuine exuberance so brimming over that any moment that warmth would overflow and wind its way like a river into one’s heart.

In her was the totality for human beauty. Something Korsha adored. She couldn’t understand why the Dominion hated them so much for their physical appearance. Their body was a biological creation not granted to them by Uplifter’s tinkering interference but it had been forced upon other non-humanoid species.

For all Deidras immeasurableness, it had been Korsha who was focused upon in Urst-Bajin. The yaejik people, furry humanoids who hid their faces behind elaborate wooden masks, had gathered around her. They pressed in, surrounding her. Korsha had known she’d be smothered to death, drowning in their warmth. Her insides churned as she inhaled their damp musk with every breath. Several reached out and touched her horns. There was an awe there, a reverence Korsha had only seen priestesses perform when handling sacred relics. Their hushed reverent tones carried through the air intermingling into spring waters of awe and wonder upon whose shorts they inclined their heads towards her.

A cry shattered the serenity, demanding a focus upon its warbling as it parted the ocean of people around her.Two Yaejik adults, dark furred and thick bodied, marched through the falling snow towards her. Stylized fangs poked out around the mouths, curving outward in half-concealed crescents. The slanted faces were fierce, most likely taken from some mythical interpretation the yaejik held dear. Thick bands of polished metal glinted in the weak sunlight as they swayed back and forth, clinking against the hardwood.

The two yaejik halted before her, heads bowed. The female, Korsha knew this from her heavy chest and darkly painted colors, reached out and stroked her horns. Korsha squirmed under her touch but froze, rigid in confusion, as the woman then touched her face. Gnarled calloused fingers traced invisible lines across her face. Yet the gesture was soft. Motherly. Korsha found herself pressing into it.

"Please accept our son to be your bonded, Bagujinji."

Korsha blinked and then stammered, pulling away from the woman. She tried to back up but other bodies pressed against her. A hasty wall errected to cut off her escape. Were they really trying to arrange their son to marry her? Didn't they know what she was, why people like her were sent here to the Grimnar Academy?

Thankfully Tal had come to her rescue and had broken up the crowd. He spoke with the two parents before returning to her.

"You made quite the impression." He said with a sly grin.

Korsha said nothing, her shoulders drooping from the energy the crowds had taken from her. Instead she gave him a half-hearted eye roll but she couldn’t be sure her pupils even lifted.

"What did he call her? Bag of gin sigh." Deidra asked.

Tal gave her one of his withering glances. The kind a proper scholar gives to a disruptive student. “Bagujinji. It means something like divine or guardian touched.”

"Well they did find you divine." Deidra said, as she pressed a hand to her mouth to suppress a laugh.

Korsha blinked the memory away as she drew her hood up. The dark fabric slid across her skin and draped itself over her horns. It created a barrier. A protective perimeter that shielded Korsha from all things but those that lay before her. She wasn't going to have a repeat of last time. Minutes later there was a faint grumbly sigh as the ship landed. The ramp lowered and Korsha descended. Her heavy boot steps were swallowed up by a howling wind whose cold grip slithered into the edges of her collar. Her armor locked up, becoming airtight. by the time she'd reached the bottom of the steps, warmth had returned, a thin blanket against the harsh world around her.

Once more she found herself standing at the edge of Urst-Bajin. The town was like a small microcosm for the world. It’s old weathered cabins stood against the winds, their logs bearing the scars of many winters. Yet the roofs were a patchwork metal, some gray, others green and red, all shoved together and tethered by black messy lines of solder that was under the constant assault of rust that ate away at their edges.

She let out a heavy sigh, the breath crystalizing before her before its ghost was snatched away. One of the tribes were in town. The one time I had to come when they were having a hiojac. She grabbed at the hood again, pulled down and ensured her horns were covered. So long as the tribe didn’t see or suspect them they’d continue to be engrossed in trading their goods.

As she made her way through town, she noted the tribal masks had a common canine like appearance to them with reds and blues highlighting or diminishing various features to create similar yet distinct faces. As she passed one of the store houses, a building set on tall pillars nearly twice her height, she saw two yaejik administering a salve to the building. The pungent spicy odor struck Korsha caused her nose to wrinkle and the back of her throat to itch. She paused only momentarily as she sensed a spirit within the building, no not inside, but within the materials itself. She listened to the two tribesmen.

"We honor your sacrifice. Be at peace and know that you are our kin."

Korsha wished she had time to figure out what was going on. The spirit that she sensed was a strange amalgamation of familiar sensations that she couldn't quite place. There was a primordial orderliness to it. Something that was beyond her experience and yet... Focus. You're here to learn about Deidra. Walking away she entered the main street, though calling it that was a categorization she’d placed upon the empty barren space between houses and storehouses. She marched along, head down, eyes up and darting, making sure to keep an adequate distance from everyone else.

She passed an enormous long necked animal. Its fur carpeted its body in shaggy coils. Its head rose up and followed her as she passed. The bulky mass of its body shifted from side to side, it’s weight bearing down on humanoid hands whose long fingers splayed out in order to bear such considerable weight. It made a long 'ooing' sound at her. The call was echoed a heartbeat later by another somewhere else in the village.

Her eyes darted back and forth as she searched for one of the bamnarstats who weren't engrossed in trading. Her eyes fixed upon one that was leaning against his house, a tabacco pipe in hand. Slow lazy ringlets twisted up from the carved pale wood in a reverse whirlpool, spreading out before being stolen away by the wind.

The yaejik responded to her approach, his head towards her, his triangular mask tilting, sleek orange feathers bristling as his birdlike visage settled upon her. The pipe rose, settled within the curve of his mouth and then after a long moment descended. A burst of smoke bellowed out from thick heavy lips. The mass of smoke hovered in the air like a swarm of insects. He leaned forward and a ring of smoke shot from his lips smashing into the cloud and scattering the sooty fog.

"Can you help me?"

The bamnarstat eyed her for a long moment. Her skin prickled from the unseen eyes that appraised her. Then there was a wicked tilt to his lips, a sharp curve of approval and he nodded.

“Not like I wanted anything to do with those marsheccas." He said and then spat onto the ground in the direction of the other tribe.

"What do you know about Grimnar?" Korsha said, nodding her head in the direction of the Academy.

She'd considered making her way out to Grimnar herself. Yet there was a reason the facility’s foundations were laid where it was. Another concerning element was that she didn’t know the situation there. Tal had said it was locked down and abandoned but not why it was in such a state. If this had been a mission her master gave her, he would've wanted her to collect intelligence first and then make an appropriate plan accordingly. This way she gathered intelligence and kept a low profile until she was ready.

The bamnarstat cocked his head to the side and made a grunting sound, "Dark place that one is. They trained varitchas there. Soul-stealers. Used to keep them locked up there."

"Used to?"

The bamnarstat bobbed his head up and down as he took another long drag off his pipe, "Many moons ago there was great explosion. It tore through the night like a pack of howling vorcha. The fires danced for many hours. Half the place fell into the lake."

Korsha's mouth fell open. This news meant Grimnar had activated its asset denial protocols. The Academy had been built upon lake Orashova. From the Academy grounds one couldn’t see the land beyond, only water or ice depending upon the season. She used to think of the Academy as an island whose waters were meant to isolate and protect them but then she'd learned about its protocols. If anyone had ever attacked the facility a series of explosions would ensure that it would drop into the lake, sinking down nearly a mile into its murky depths, taking everyone else with it.

Her mouth ran dry and she remembered the nightmares she used to have at the thought of black waters swallowing her up. Their cold grip seeping into her body and snatching away her heat and until even her heart was too numb to pump anymore. A shiver ran down her spine and she pushed the thought away.

"What happened?"

"Don't know. Several suns later ship appears. It soared through the air like a blackbird. Several hours later it leave."

"Did it have any markings?"

The man shook his head, he pointed up to the night sky, "Black as the sky serpent."

Korsha tilted her head back and stared up at the star splattered sky. Tal had told her that the yaejik people believe that the sky was actually the manifestation of a great serpent spirit. The sun was its eye and the stars were its speckled scales. She'd questioned him how any kind of reptile could live out here but he corrected her by telling her that the serpent's here had fur and were mammalian. Another thought to add to the army that laid siege to her sleep. This place really was just a nightmare factory for me.

"I need to go there."

"Why would anyone go to such cursed place?" The bamnarstat said. Then he leaned forward, his lips pressing into a thin line. He made an ‘Oo’ sound as though he just realized something, “Grimnar is your mother. You were stitched together there."

Korsha's eyes widened, the words shocking her. The emotion lasted for a breath the scattered segments of its pieces slammed back together, reforged into a hot frothy anger that narrowed her eyes. The statement had simultaneously caught her off guard and whispered a dark truth to her. One that she was flinging from herself as far as she could. Yet it would never be far enough.

She’d expected the yaejik to catch onto the fact she was a mage. Some people had intuitive feelings, a knowing that rose within them percolating through them until the sensation penetrated their mind with its perception. Those kinds of people just knew but this…

"That place didn't make me."

"Na, I can see it woven in your eyes. That places is your mother."

He took a short drag of his pipe and released the smoke, "I can arrange transport but..."

He trailed off and rubbed his fingers together. The motion was awkward and out of place. Something he had no doubt picked up from off-world traders.

Korsha took a deep breath; this was the part she hated. Over the next several minutes she spent considerable effort haggling with the man. In doing what little research she could, she'd learned that haggling was just part of the economic rituals. If she didn't do it then she was somehow devaluing his ability, even if she offered a higher price. It was something she didn't understand but she went through the motions and within several mind numbingly agonizingly long minutes they had come to an agreed-upon price.

The yaejik got up, tapped his pipe against his palm, sending ashes fluttering to the porch below.

"I'll be back. Wait here."

Without another word Korsha plopped herself down unable to do anything but wait and linger with the thoughts now swirling through her mind.