SAFEHAVEN:

Airstream bounces across my cropped pink curls; they haven’t been past my ears in over twenty years. I close my eyes and soak in my senses. The coolness in the wind is crisp and sharp, I can picture the frost on the windows of the shops below. I hope for a short lune, though there’s no definite end to the ghastly season, it ends when Father Sky sees fit. Why he allows such a harsh and merciless season confounds me. The priests say Father Sky uses lune to weed out the weak, disloyal, and doubting. That he uses the dark season to see who is deserving of the light when he brings it back. That’s why he brings it every four years, he gives us time to prepare ourselves. The priests call it kindness.

My senses flare as I sense a life to my right, my chest stirs and my stomach flips. I can’t help but pull my face into a smile, though I fight it back and compromise with a short grin. My head turns to confirm what I sense. Yes, there he is. Sky blue eyes pierce me, eyes blessed by Father Sky, the most highly favored color. The breeze blows strands of straight dark evergreen across his copper forehead, even the short whiskers in his diligently groomed beard shiver in the air.

He chuckles. “After twenty-two years I’m still able to render you speechless, am I? Well, I suppose that’s something.”

I fight a blush and fail so I look away with embarrassment. I look out onto the wide plains past Havens Holding. His fingers twirl a pink curl from above my forehead around his finger and then trails down the shorn sides of my scalp. He moves his finger along my black-brown skin and strokes the high cartilage of my ear. His fingers pause as they tap over the three gold hoops, only he knows their meaning.

His voice softens. “Now Vashtu, I meant no humiliation.”

I stiffen my posture and turn back towards him. “You should know by now Jorin, when I’m making rounds I am to be treated with respect.”

Jorin smiles and with mocking written all over his face straightens his back. “Of course, commander. My greatest apologies.”

I roll my eyes. “Honestly Jorin, it’s as if you don’t take me seriously.”

He lets out a small chortle and strokes my face with a lock of hair winding around his finger. “Well, how can I with that petal pink hair of yours? I don’t have the faintest idea how you keep your troops in line.”

A glare settles on my face. “By beating the light out of anyone who mocks me.” With that I deliver a firm punch into his shoulder.

He winces, but it’s for show. “Don’t damage me dear, I’m a commander too you know.”

I shrug. “My colleague could use a little abuse to toughen up.”

He raises one eyebrow and lets loose a fiendish grin. “Promise?”

My eyes roll again and I take one last look past the wall. Everything seems to be in order as I gaze into the far-off distance of Razorbone territory. The land is dead still, no movement has been reported in weeks. Usually lune is the time where they throw hordes upon hordes at our walls. Preying upon a time of weakness, hoping we’re all half-starved and frozen so we can’t fight them. Hoping our skysinger eyes can’t see them in the persistent darkness. Hoping this cold season will finally be the one where they sink us, but they never do. We lose family and friends but we keep fighting.

But this year is different, quiet, unsettling. We’ve all heard the rumors about Arinos, though none of the council have confirmed or denied it. They too have been unsettling in their quiet. It’s possible the nightstalkers have not been attacking because they do not need to throw their horde at our walls anymore. Not if they have a new weapon or strategy that will guarantee them success. Despite these dark thoughts I refuse to let the threat shake me. I am strong as hardstone, I am a trained commander, no matter the circumstances I will not accept defeat. We are The Sky Legion; we bow to none but Father Sky.

I recite the hym of strength under my breath while I calm my thoughts. We will win, we always will. We are children of the light; they are demons from the void. We are the warriors of our father and we will protect our people. It’s the vow I took all those years ago and I cling to it still. The people have many different ideas about the Sky Legion, many misconceptions about who we are. They say we’re brutes that know nothing but killing. That we’re mindless religious zealots that follow the council’s whims. That we’re ineffective wastes of coin that can’t even destroy the nightstalker threat. But those come from the mouths of people that have not been in battle and seen what we have.

The reality is we’re people, like them. Every single one of us joined for our own powerful reasons. People in the armies and guard, they might join so that they can fight in exchange for food. Some cities have even needed to draft unwilling volunteers in the past. But for The Sky Legion you must excel. You must work your way up through the ranks, you must be spectacular, you must be the best, you must prove yourself. Then, after your hard work and diligent endless training you might be selected to join the world’s elite. Who are we? We are the best; we have sacrificed everything in our lives for decades in order to be here. Every single one of us believe in this legion and the cause of protecting our people.

I complete my rounds checking in at Haven’s Holding, everything is in order. It makes me itch with anxiety. Jorin offers his hand to me and I flick it away, which he knew I would do. Our relationship has been disclosed to the council and accepted by them given its unique nature. But I refuse to endorse public displays of affection when among my subordinates. We are the best; we have to look it. When the suns are down and the demons at our gates, when the hardstone cracks, they must see me as their commander first and foremost.

He huffs with a front of grumpiness. “You know, for a bondmate you’re incredibly reserved.”

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I shake my head and stride down the black steps of the wall. “For a commander of The Sky Legion you’re incredibly foolish.”

He points a finger into the air. “That’s husband commander to you. We’re a team and I won’t have you thinking otherwise.”

Jorin and I found each other our first day of legion training. Jorin had become the youngest general of Evos’ army in their history. His mind is keen with tactics and strategy, he’s an incredible asset. But that’s the thing with The Sky Legion, everyone here is incredible. That’s why they’re here. Admittedly, some might have had the goal to move to Safehaven as their motivation. There’s a strict immigration policy. Joining gives you automatic citizenship, which can be revoked at any time if necessary.

I made my way through Thraz fighting gangs and druglords. I burned drug dens and banished more than my fair share of street trash. I was merciless and determined, it still appalls me that so many fight among each other when we all have a common enemy. A lot of those who came from harder cities made fun of him, saying his credentials don’t count. Evos is never involved in conflicts, they’re perfectly protected. They don’t have much crime to speak of. It’s an oasis among the blood bath. Being a general there is equivalent to a squaddie in Thraz. But Jorin is not a man to rest on his laurels.

I remember that first day at the Legion Academy. I had worked furiously through blood and tears to get there, I was going to be at the top, a Sky Legion commander. No matter what anyone had said, all the whispers about my past, nothing will keep me from my goal. Then on day one the world broke into a spin of color. It looked like a massive spinning vortex circling around us that had sucked every color ever known into it. It could only be seen by him and me, as if we were the only two people in the world. Pain tingled through my body and I couldn’t move, just when I thought the world would tear apart it dissipated. I had found my bondmate, on day one.

He sought me out immediately, but I refused to touch him. I wanted to fight it, ignore, make it go away. I was here to become the best, to fight to make our world better, I was a woman of singular focus. A bondmate would only distract me. But the key to ignoring a potential bondmate is removing yourself from their proximity. Jorin ended up in the same squad as me.

To my credit, I fought it for six months. But over those months I learned what an incredible person he is. He may have had a soft place to call home, but he’s as fiercely determined as I am. I like to say his body was crafted by Evos but his heart was forged by Terra Guard. We disclosed our situation to our commander and were brought in front of the council. Rather than expelling us or separating us, they teamed us together.

Together we glided to the top of the ranks. We strategized together, fought in sync like a perfectly cooperating unit. As individuals, we were formidable. As a team, we were unstoppable. Today we each command our own brigades and always are sent on missions together to command our troops with precise lethality. I know that one day, together, we will end the nightstalker threat. There’s no doubt in my mind.

Jorin and I reach the bottom of the wall, we’re approached by a thin man in gray. His clothing is plain and his hair is a flat black tied back in a pony tail. He speaks with a dreadful boring voice. “You are commanders Vashtu and Jorin Bellore yes?”

We both nod. The dull man clasps his hands together at the waist and speaks with no further inflection in his voice. “Excellent. Right this way. Counselor Rylinkt is visiting from Capital Island. He has called for an audience.”

After winding through the wandering streets of Safehaven we come to the counsel embassy. It’s a plain white brick building in the shape of a simple cube. It’s an odd sight after passing the rounded roof homes of crystal quarter. I’m still blown away, even after living here for two decades, at how clean Safehaven is. The roads are made of beautiful pink, orange, and gray cobbles held together by white mortar. The roads in Thraz are most of the time packed down dirt and other materials we try not to think about. Not to mention the space, in Safehaven the roads are wide enough for two carts to pass each other and still have a handspan between them. In Thraz, most streets are more like a trail with barely a shoulder width between two buildings. The roads used to be bigger they say, but they’ve had to keep building and squeezing in tighter.

After entering the building, we come to a grand room, I’ve never been in here before. I’m surprised by the luxurious quarters I see before us. We’re told that the council rejects luxury and displays of wealth, that their only focus is the governing of our people. It’s why they wear those robes all the time, they don’t need to follow fashion or other materialistic pursuits. Their only concern is the sustainable future of our people. But what I see before me is a suit fit for a wealthy mogul.

Red draperies flow from the ceiling over beautiful stained-glass windows. More draperies cascade down encasing a large round red quilted bed. A rich crimson rug spreads out across the dark wood floor. Off to the left is a grand polished desk with a large leather chair. Animal leather, the most valuable and scarce material, usually only reserved for armor. Even my boots are made from the leather of plants. Paintings hang from the walls, flowers bloom in vases in the middle of lune. It’s the most concentrated view of indulgence I’ve ever seen.

From all of this wealth emerges an older man. The top of his head is wanting for hair, though from his heavy eyebrows it would be white if he had it. His chin is sharp as is his nose. Although his body seems to sag with age his eyes are piercing and dangerous. This is Counselor Rylinkt dressed in all of his council attire. Dark blue robes drape to his feet with bell shaped sleeves that conform to his wrists. The trim of his collar is gold and follows down the middle seam of the garment where it opens. The ornate trim continues down to the bottom hem that almost touches the floor. Embroidered into the trim is a continuing pattern of the phrase Together we prosper, together we survive.

Around his waist he wears the signature belt of a counselor, it has a symbol on it representing each city in the collective. A wave for Thraz, open hands for Gardenya, a fist for Terra Guard. I pause with my eyes on that fist, we’ve not heard the final death toll from the recent attacks yet. My eyes follow the belt as I see in the middle of the symbols a jewel for Safehaven. Although one of the younger cities it’s grown to be seen as the capital and most prosperous. On the other side of the jewel is a bird for Arinos, my breath catches from anxiety. Following the symbols my eyes see a rose for Evos and a hammer for Gerrafar. They say that all the cities are important and none receive favoritism. I can’t help but notice that the most important cities are upfront in the middle as the most neglected cities are at the ends.

I kiss my right thumb and hold it over the middle of my chest. The salute of respect. Joring does the same and stands frozen, silent, and reverent.

Counselor Rylinkt nods and waves away our salute. “Yes, thank you. Now as soon as those brothers of yours get here we can begin.”

I frown. “You called Onrik and Boran?”

As if their names summoned them, in march my brothers. I smile at the sight of them. My brothers, all three of us shared a womb and sometimes it feels like share a mind. My brothers and I were the deadliest of units in Thraz. We trained together from the moment we could walk, we’ve played battle games as children, read books and stories, it’s been our life long obsession. We wanted to be the best, run our own crew together, protect our people together.

Both of my brothers share my textured pink hair and golden eyes. They are identical in appearance except for their body types. Onrik has broad shoulders giving him an intimidating presence despite his shorter stature. Boran is leaner and narrow all the way through. They fight as a complimentary team. Boran brings the agility while Onrik hammers with the strength. They fight in sync and play off each other’s strengths and weaknesses with excellence. I stand taller with pride in my brothers, whatever this is I can crush it with them at my side.

They stop and give the salute. Onrik elbows me and whispers. “Did he say what we did yet?”

I shush him. “Quiet! We’re not in trouble!”

Onrik relaxes, those trouble makers. Lots of people judge Onrik when they first see him assuming he’s the antagonist. Boran is the real criminal. That clever boy gets them into all sorts of mischief. He causes the kind of trouble where everyone knows it was him, but evidence is sorely lacking. Every time. If they weren’t so good at their job, they would have been booted from the legion long ago. How they got a commandership is beyond me, I suppose what the council prizes above good behavior is a good kill record.

Counselor Rylinkt nods. He speaks in a humming voice. “It is good to see you all here. What I am about to tell you must not leave the confidence of this room. Is that clear?”

We all nod with concerned hesitation. The counselor smiles. “Good. I called you four here because you control the largest portion of the legion. You have impeccable records and always get results. I have a mission for you that is of the utmost importance. You must not speak of this to anyone, not even other council members. But I assure you this comes from the highest authority.”

Jorin clears his throat and brings humble eyes to meet Counselor Rylinkt’s. “Counselor, what is this mission of such great importance?”

The counselor smiles, not a smile of happiness. Not a smile of accomplishment. It is a smile of self-ambition. I would know it anywhere; I’ve beaten it out of many of my troops over the years. To see it on a man of power unsettles me to my core.

He speaks with a giddy humming voice. “We are going to critically wound our enemies. Finally take action. We are going to destroy the Srexi nightstalkers.”