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JUST LIKE OLD TIMES

Back on the main road, a tidily tiled path that the villagers had aptly named Cobble Street, Pandora found herself shivering slightly in the chill morning air. Whether from the wind, or the violent act she’d just committed she couldn’t be entirely sure. She hoped it was the former.

In spite of the chill, Saxshire’s fields looked as lush as ever. The rolling green hills of the lowlands were verdant farmland, bristling with vegetables, fruits, grains, and essential herbs. All painstakingly provided by the skilled hands of the TertiaGuild. On Pandora’s right were the Talbot’s vineyards and tuber crops, ripe and ready for harvest. On her left were the Khatri’s mint fields and the Nataana’s maize, the two fields nearly overtaking each other despite their minders’ best efforts. Off into the distance, Pandora could see fields for leagues and leagues. Junowa was home to many farms, and provided food for half the Prefecturate. Only Nucopia was said to produce more, and even then not by much. Pandora wasn’t much for farming, but she appreciated Junowa’s quaint ways and folksy pastoral lifestyle. Her nation was a pleasant little oasis in an otherwise turbulent realm.

The Chasm Quakes rarely touched the prefecture, and the Solar Storms were practically nonexistent. The Vespani barbarians were little more than horror stories and rumor to the average Junowese. And the rebels and rioters on the Perimeter got short shrift when they tried their hand in the rolling hills of Junowa. Granted they were often left out of Terrene’s more exciting developments. They would not be a part of the delegation sent to meet with the distant and elusive Ostre’nani, nor would they see much of the strangers if they chose to open up their borders. But that trade off was just fine by Pandora.

outland problems were for outland people. She had enough dimming problems as it was.

Pandora was not the only one out and about at this hour. Children too young for Guild Testing ran about the fields on errands, or engaging in chores. The slightly older youths made their way to the Academy in Saxshire proper. Laughing and joking as they walked, they wore red uniform coats emblazoned with the two nested circles of the Central Krystarium. There were smartly dressed scholars on their way to the local institute, and rough garbed farm hands heading down to the fields for some late planting. And everybody, young and old, was in uniform. Either dressed for their guild, or in the academy garb of children preparing for the Testing. The citizens of Saxshire always wore their Krystarium colors with pride.

Pandora ignored them all as best she could, picking the paths off Cobble Street, so as to avoid any distracting social interaction. She noted Mister and Mistress Couture were about for a stroll, and they waved at Pandora as she passed them by. She waved back politely, but did not stop to talk. The Couture’s were old, almost ninety. If they got a chance they’d have her ensnared in long conversations about the weather and the crops. Pandora had no time for it. And besides, Shadow didn’t trust the old couple. Shadow trusted no one but her parents, as well as a few other locals.

The sound of boots on the cobbles pricked at Pandora’s sensitive ears. She could feel the pulses of multiple people’s tremors of life coming up behind her.

“Company,” Shadow whispered in the back of her mind.

Pandora scowled, anticipating another attack. But as she glanced over her shoulder, her wariness was replaced by a mixture of relief, and exasperation. Four youths approached her. All of an age with Pandora herself, born of Junowa and under the second sun, Bhazima. During the part of the year when it was the higher of the twin suns, right up until the day she’d been born, when both suns were level for a time. Her old… friends. Shadow groaned inside her mind. She would almost have preferred another assassin.

Pandora clasped her hands behind her back, and forced an amiable smile. Short and charming Freyja Lay smiled right back, her hooded, ruby-red eyes alight with eagerness. Those eyes, and that snow white hair, done up in a bun like Pandora’s, always reminded her of the White Hares that showed up during Junowese winters. Although Freyja wore the look far better in Pandora’s opinion. Freckle faced and fiery-haired Artemis Finneon smiled at Pandora as well, topknot bobbing as he nodded to her. Only Finneon’s smile, more of a smirk really, never quite reached his dark green eyes when he looked at her.

“Wen,” he said by way of greeting. “Although I guess I should call you Lieutenant now, huh?” His smirk told Pandora just what he thought of that.

“Hi, Dora,” Freyja said cheerfully.

Eshu Altier followed behind them. Sundark and spindly, he almost disappeared behind Finneon’s broad shoulders. Topknoted, like any proper Krystarian boy, although his was far less well kept than Finneon’s soldier stiff cut. The scraggly dark peach fuzz he was trying to grow on his upper lip didn’t help.

Towering over all of the youths was Aria Mendi. She was the only Mazeroki among their little group, and like Pandora, lacked any Junoan ancestry. Her flawless doll-like features were offset by her disinterested expression. Nevertheless her pink skin and lavender-purple hair were distinct. She and her kin were one of the few Mazeroki families living in Tynehurst Parish.

“Finn,” Pandora greeted. “Aria. Esh. Freyja.” Pandora nodded to each of them in turn politely and soldierly.

“Oh, don’t give me that officer act,” Freyja said with a giggle, placing a hand on Pandora’s shoulder.

The voice in the back of her head seized Pandora’s body, acting on instinct. It reached up to catch Freyja’s arm. Had Pandora not intervened, it would’ve broken the other girl’s wrist.

“Whoa,” Freyja said with a nervous grin. “Little jumpy today aren’t we?”

Pandora let her go. “S-sorry. It’s uh, kind of a reflex now.”

Freyja looked Pandora over, seeming concerned. “Has your training really been as harsh as all that? Did something happen.”

“N-no, nothing like that,” Pandora said quickly.

She bit her lower lip, she was doing a poor job of acting casual.

“Are you alright?” Freyja asked. “I know the Testing has been rough, but…”

“I’m fine, really.”

“Are you? I haven’t seen you around in weeks.”

“I’ve been busy, Freyja. My training runs pretty late into the evenings. I don’t get home till after dark most days.”

Freyja folded her arms.

“Yeah. Y’all did miss my name day celebration.”

“I didn’t know I was invited.”

“Of course you were invited.” Freyja looked hurt.

Pandora looked away, not wanting to see that expression on the shorter woman’s face.

“C’mon, Freyja,” Finneon said. “Leave her be. She can’t be going out all the time with us. She might accidentally have fun or something. And we can’t have that. It’s bad for her image.”

The quip came with a smirk that always made Pandora wanna punch Finneon.

“Yeah,” Eshu chimed in. “Why stay in every night when you can get chased across town by Mister Garnier’s lynxkits for messing around with his daughter again.”

Finneon shot Eshu a glare. Then shoved the shorter boy, who just laughed, holding his hands up wardingley. Pandora rolled her eyes, ignoring them in favor of Freyja.

“I don’t have much time for fun, these days,” Pandora continued.

“Mmhmm,” Finneon interrupted again. “You’re the only one who ever goes in or out of that shed on the training grounds. Wouldn’t surprise me if you were holed up in there, playing games and watching hollows.”

Pandora glared at the red haired youth. “You think I have enough free time to spend my days watching Solarsailors and reading gazettes? My days are long, Fin. From first sunrise to second sundown, and whatever time I don’t spend training, I spend in lessons. History, psychology, Solarasis. It’s work… Hard work.”

Finneon waved a hand dismissively. “Alright, alright, I’m suitably impressed.”

Shadow seized Pandora’s legs, and before she knew it, she was taking a threatening step toward Finneon. The fiery-haired recruit eyed Pandora right back, mirroring her glare.

Eshu stepped between them, chuckling nervously. “I know I’m impressed,” he said, quickly. “By you guys and Aria. Blowing through Guild Testing, and with two Laureates. Of BetaGuild no less.”

Eshu tried to put a hand on each of their shoulders, but Pandora took a step back, avoiding his touch. Finneon caught the hand and pulled the shorter boy into a headlock. The two started wrestling, both snickering and shoving eachother about.

Freyja stared back at the boys, looking decidedly unimpressed.

“He’s just razzing you, Dora,” Freyja said. “He seems to be under the mistaken impression that he’s funny.”

“Hilarious,” Pandora said, dryly.

Despite her words, Freyja’s frown of displeasure slackened into a fond grin. Freyja liked everybody.

Aria stepped in between Eshu and Finneon and hauled them apart. “Alright, quit playing grab ass and get a move on. Commander Barneaux isn’t gonna wait all day for us.”

Freyja perked up at the commander’s name. “You’re coming with us right?” Freyja asked Pandora, grinning. “You’re headed to induction too right?”

“What? N-no, I was just…”

“C’mon, Dora. It’ll be just like old times.”

Pandora redirected her grimace from Freyja to Finneon and back again, lips stretched into a thin line.

“Please.” Freyja said, tone very nearly begging, with an excited grin that split her face. Freyja’s eager, lilting voice tugged at Pandora’s heart strings.

Pandora forced a smile. “Yeah,” she said weakly. This was not ideal. “Just like old times.”

Aria led the way as they followed in the wake of an older woman in black and gold BetaGuild dress. Sun tanned Junowese farmers in green TertiaGuild coveralls made way for her, giving deferential nods and friendly waves. Trailing behind her ilk was the only way to get anywhere in this mob. The place was packed, and to think this was just the entryway.

“Ow! Watch it, Esh,” Finneon said from behind Pandora. They had to form a line in order to follow the Advocate.

“Walk faster then,” Eshu replied. “I’m getting claustrophobic in all this.”

“Cool it boys,” Freyja said. “We’re almost there.”

The elder Beta stopped abruptly at the end of the hall, and Aria held out a hand to forestall the youths. Each of them nearly toppled the one in front like hastily halted tram cars. The Advocate arched an eyebrow at the five of them before sniffing ostentatiously and strolling into the interior of the hall. The entry clerk didn’t even stop the woman to take her credentials.

The hustle and bustle of the New Saxshire Guild Hall was understandable. The hall attended to the needs of citizens of all four guilds, from rough-cut ForaGuild laborers to pious PrimaGuild sages. And Junowese from all around Saxshire County came to the hall to seek work and hire workers, from Tynehurst to Hill Tree to Hullwood. The guilds were the lifeblood of the Krystarium, and the Krystarium ensured that no citizen was left idle. Today the hall was rife with young inductees, scrambling and congregating prior to the ceremony that would make them Guild Initiates.

Which was why Pandora and her peers had to literally shove their way through the throngs of people. Oh, citizens made way for honored elders, parting in their path and asking if they needed any assistance. But youths like Pandora were either ignored or shoved aside. And if they weren’t deferential enough to an honored elder, were sent back to the rear of the hall. So they fell back on old tricks. No one kneels under the dome of the Krystarium, it was said, and they were all equal under its laws. But there was an unofficial additive to the old saying that Pandora always remembered when she saw how the elders were treated with such deference. No one kneels under the dome of the Krystarium, But some get to stand a little taller than others.

“Aching Abyss,” Finneon said. “I never get tired of looking at that.”

Pandora looked up from the elderly Advocate at the room around them, and found that she had to agree. Saxshire Hall was a domed tower that went up thousands of paces, piercing the sky and dominating the view for leagues in every direction. A massive spiral staircase rose up from the center of the room, which was itself wrapped around a trio of transparent lifts in the spira’s center. Bridges stemmed out from the stairs like the branches of a pine tree, connecting the ascending steps to the many upper offices. Carved, oakleaf vines crawled up the outside of the stairs and walls, giving it the heir of a well tended greenhouse. Curved, ivory arches were set into the walls, every one carved with intricate, map-like, continental patterns. And the entire building, tiles, walls, and all, was constructed of pure silvery Soulstone.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Not the Ether charged, life giving compound Sunstone. But a material just as valuable to the realm and its people. A not quite stone, not quite metal, the conductive material could channel Ether over vast distances. In a building this size, Pandora could chat with people hundreds of leagues away, just by touching the walls. It was a stunning sight. When they had learned in school that the tower was not Krystarium work at all, but some work of the Ancient Echelon, it had been all too easy to believe.

“C’mon, guys. Hurry up. You can gawk at the architecture, later,” Freyja said excitedly, running out ahead of the rest of them. “It’s time. It’s finally time.”

The pale-haired youth was practically bouncing in her skin, ruby-red eyes alight with vigor.

“No need to run, Freyja,” Aria said. “Induction is at second noon. That isn’t going to change, no matter how quickly we get there.”

“I can’t help it. I’m just so excited. I’ve wanted to be a Beta Advocate ever since I saw Eirene’s Address when I was nine. I was starting to believe this day would never come.”

“And yet here it is,” Aria said dryly, passing by Freyja and stepping up to the entry checkpoint.

There was a four pace high wall encircling the spiral staircase, and clerks took the identities of the guild members and guild hopefuls as they passed into the interior of the hall.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t excited too, Arry,” Freyja said with a grin. “I’ve seen the way you look at the Sentinels that come into New Sax, those purple eyes all wide and shiny.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But her face flushed from pink to scarlet as she pressed her hand to the Soulstone wall of the checkpoint. The clerk, a Junowese woman with spectacles twice as thick as Pandora’s, nodded for Aria to enter.

Freyja placed her hand against the Soulstone as well. “I know you two are pleased,” she said, looking back at Pandora and Finneon.

Pandora shrugged.

“You guys too?” Freyja laughed. “It’s okay to be excited. They’re not gonna revoke your guild status for conduct unbecoming if you crack a smile.”

Pandora and Finneon looked at each other. He actually looked like he might smile, but then he just turned away, expression souring. Pandora felt her nose wrinkle.

Freyja tched. “Betas,” she scoffed.

Eshu smirked at her. “Aren’t you about to be a Beta too?”

“Hush,” she said with a smirk. “What about you Esh. I know how much this day must mean to you. Fifth generation Tertia?”

“Sixth,” Esh replied. “But who’s counting.”

“You apparently,” Finneon said. Eshu gave him a shove.

“You like farming, Esh,” Freyja said. “I know you do.”

“I tolerate it, Frey,” Eshu replied,

Freyja rolled her eyes. Then for the barest of moments, flashed towards the soon to be BetaCorps officers. “You know if farming doesn’t excite you enough, there’s always TriWatch. How bout it, Esh? Officer of the law? Eh?”

Eshu’s face visibly darkened. “And spend my days issuing citations and keeping the academy brats off the town green? Thank you, no.”

Freya giggled endearingly, giving Esh a shove as the clerk favored them with a nod. And they too passed through the checkpoint. Each of them followed in turn, stepping into the circle beneath the spiral stairs.

“She sees the you that plays the perfect little soldier,” Shadow whispered in the back of her mind. “But not the you that plunged a knife into your first sergeant’s back.”

Pandora stiffened visibly, masking the twitch by vigorously adjusting her spectacles.

“I didn’t,” Pandora insisted in her head. “That was you.”

Laughter was Shadow’s response. “So it was. Not that it makes a difference.”

Pandora tensed, eyes growing hard. No one seemed to notice however. They were too focused on weaving through the other inductee groups, and the statues of course. Set into the interior wall of the circular checkpoints was a ring of statues, each painted in a different combination of colors. Some were pure in shade, while others were streaked with veins of color as they stood vigil over the hall. Regardless, each and every one of the figures had two heads, meant to dual nature of the universe, and the dual nature within us all. Each of the figures was a host body for one of the Drahmen, the children of the Oracle. And, as such were not simply bronze or gold, but also Ether and flesh ancestors. When the statue played host to the Drahmen it represented, its chest would rise and fall with the breathes of the living, and their eyes would glow with the light of the suns.

Inductees stopped briefly at the statues, placing their hands on the soulstone bases in order to implore the Anima for a blessing from their patron. Prayers hopefully reaching them from their place beyond the Abyss, where souls ventured after death. The five heavens and the five hells, and beyond. To the Great Beyond.

There were several youths in green lab coats by the figure of Athenat, Drahmen of Logic. One finger aimed at the sky, marbled with with streaks of blue. There were a dozen youths blocking one of the checkpoints by standing beneath Justila, Dramen of Law. Her statue complete with court dress jurist, and complete with stole. A few people were actually kneeling before Charib, Drahmen of Unity. Depicted in flowing robes, patterned with carved scroll work, pure gray and not a streak to be seen. And of course there were youths in black and gold before Anhur, Drahmen of War. The picture of honor and duty, with a helmet on each head. Black as night, his statue was streaked with veins of gold that made Pandora’s collar and bars look drab in comparison.

Freyja made her way toward the Justila, and Eshu shuffled over to the largest group of inductees beside the statue of Totec, the Harvester. Without a word, Pandora, Aria, and Finneon all moved to stand by the other Sentinel inductees, and joined them in a salute to Anhur, the founder of the Krystarian BetaCorps, the Last Line, the Unbreakables. Anhur cut a dashing figure. Straight-backed, self assured. Pandora had modeled herself after people like him. Trying to present to the village, her parents, anyone who glanced her way, the picture of the perfect soldier. Only she wasn’t. Not even close. How could she be excited about joining the corps, when the face she would present to her brothers and sisters in arms would be a lie.

“You could show them my face if you like,” Shadow whispered in her head. Pandora shivered again.

“Today, I join them,” Finneon said, from her left. Pandora turned to glance at him. He was staring up in reverence at the Anhur’s statue. It seemed as though she had not been the only one ruminating on it.

“My old man should be proud,” he continued. “He always wanted to be BetaCorps, but he could never get past the last round of the Testing. Ended up in TriWatch instead. When I told him I wanted to be one, he told me he’d tan my hide if I didn’t take a real shot at the Betas before settling for the Watch.” A wistful smile worked its way onto his lips. “I’ll be the only Beta in the family.”

He turned to regard her, only for his face to turn beat red as he realized who he was talking to, and how he’d been rambling on.

“The Krystarium will need good soldiers soon,” Aria said. “The way things are going.”

“What do you mean,” Freyja asked. “Because of the quakes? Disaster relief?”

Aria shook her head. “Not now,” she replied “This is our big day, right? There’ll be time to worry about the future after our induction.”

“What are you three on about?” Eshu asked as he ambled over.

Finneon surged forward before Esh could catch up, making for the stairs with long, determined strides. “C’mon, if you’re coming,” he said. “You know what a prick Barneaux can be.”

“Particularly,” Aria agreed. “If he decides arbitrarily that we are somehow late for a scheduled event.”

They all walked off, Pandora trailing behind the others and glancing over her shoulder. No one had considered the statue in the center of the room. It was not the kind of job the young aspired to. It was not marbled with veins for artistic effect. Nor did it dominate the hall with its size. It was little taller Pandora herself. This was no host body for a Drahmen. Just an everyday, run-of-the-mill effigy of stone and mortar. It depicted a figure in a ceremonial tunic, belted at the waist. The figure was looking down, with a hand over its heart. And engraved into the pedestal at its base was one simple line of scripture.

Even the straight path has many forks, if one but steps to the side.

It would take more than a side step to rescue Pandora from the path that had been laid out for her. The road had been long and arduous, with no opportunities to escape that didn’t involve a knife in her heart. She could remember the day it had all began, clear as day. Pandora had always had a particularly good memory. Events that had occurred years ago in her life were often as crisp as though they had occurred the day before. It made it hard for her to forget the rough times, things better left in the past. She remembered every slight, every abuse, every unkind word. Pandora could forgive, but she could never forget.

That day when she’d been forced to face her lot in life had been much like this one. The Twinsuns painted the academy yard with golden-orange light and sticky summer heat. Pandora was puffing as she ran, desperately trying to stay ahead of her pursuer. He had longer legs than her, and the soft thud footsteps grew louder and louder as he closed the distance between them. More than that she could feel him getting closer. It was becoming harder and harder to ignore things like that. He was mere inches away. She could feel it in the way the steady rhythm of his presence quickened. As though that rhythm reflected the beat of his own racing heart.

Pandora put everything she had into running now, trying to will that energy within her to carry her further. The way the adults were always talking about. It was no use. A hand grasped Pandora’s shoulder and she shrieked, falling off balance and tumbling forward to land in the dirt. Her pursuer landed on top of her, laughing and rolling her over onto her back. Pandora glared up at the pale skinned youth atop her, his tiny red topknot bobbing. Artemis Finneon’s freckled face was creased by a self-satisfied, split lip grin.

“Blast it, Finn,” Pandora whined. “You did that on purpose.”

“Nuh uh,” he said, chuckling. “It’s not my fault you’ve got two left feet, Dora.”

“Get off,” she spat.

“Get off… what?”

“Get off or I’ll sock you.”

“What’s the magic word?” He asked in a sing-song fashion.

“Dim you!”

A long drawn out “Oooooh,” Sounded from several nearby voices.

“That’s not it,” Finneon said in that same annoying tone.

Pandora proceeded to smack at the boy repeatedly with both hands. He just laughed, shielding his face and returning her smacks with a few of his own.

“Okay, okay. Enough,” Aria said, grabbing young Finneon and hauling him off Pandora by the collar of his academy blazer. She did so with ease. Aria stood a head taller than any of the other kids in their class, a perk owed to her Mazeroki heritage.

“If you are going to do battle, then you must do it the right way,” she insisted.

Freyja helped Pandora to her feet, but once she had her legs under her again, Pandora shook the other girl off.

“You sure you wanna do this again, Dora?” Freyja asked.

“I can beat him,” Pandora said. “I know I can.”

“Yeah,” Eshu asked, brushing dirt off of the back of Pandora’s blazer. “I must have been sick all those days you actually landed a hit.”

“I’ve hit him,” Pandora said.

“Smacking him while playing tag don’t count.” Eshu replied.

“Okay, Scorcher rules then,” Aria said, taking position between Pandora and Finneon. “First to land three hit wins. Open hand only. You break the rules and I tell Professor Rosiland you’ve been sneaking into the Talbot’s berry patches again.”

Both Pandora and Finneon turned to glare at Eshu. “You told?!” They shouted in unison. Esh huddled down behind Freyja, who put a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle a giggle.

“Arry made me,” he said, defensively. “You try telling her I don’t know when her face gets all red.”

“Don’t blame him,” Aria said. “Are both the combatants ready?”

Pandora planted both feet on the ground and held up both hands with her palms facing each other. She nodded to Aria, who nodded back before turning to Finneon. Finneon was standing with one foot in front of the other, one hand out, and one folded behind his back. Pandora glared at the fiery-haired youth. He thinks he’s so tough. I’ll show him.

Aria raised a hand into the air, and both Pandora and Finneon crouched lower. “Ready…”

“You two don’t hit too hard okay,” Freyja yelled. “It’s a game!”

“Start!” Aria’s hand dropped in a chopping motion, and Finneon charged Pandora.

She yelled moving to close the distance as fast as her little legs would carry her. She could see Finneon’s hand raised to strike. She would duck, instead of blocking. He wouldn’t be expecting that. Then land a quick hit before Fin even knew what was happening. This time she would win. A dark shadow loomed over her opponent. Before Pandora could register what was going on, Finneon’s feet had left the ground.

A tall man in a black and gold uniform, with a white beard and silvery hair, had Finneon by the collar. He plopped him on his feet, off to the side of where they would have clashed, and started to shake him by his collar.

“Cracks and chasms, boy.” The man snapped. “What in the oracle’s name do you think you’re doing? You could have hurt the girl. Fool boy. I could have our strapped for…”

“Admiral,” a familiar voice called out.

Pandora looked up and was shocked to find her parents entering the schoolyard. They were still wearing their work clothes. Her mother in a stylish dress of Mazeroki make, her father in a smart Pearlan dress shirt, both in the long green coats of Krystarian researchers. Neither had the tan, weathered skin of Junowese’s, but her friends all knew Pyramus and Persephone Wen and quickly ran to her parents side in the wake of this aggressive newcomer.

“Admiral, please,” her mother said again. She took Finneon by the shoulders and steered him toward her father who patted him on the back. Finneon’s eyes were wide with shock. He actually looked afraid. Pandora had been too dismayed to do anything more than watch.

“This is an awful lot of ragamuffins, Wen.” The bearded man said. “I told you we need to monitor the child’s associations.”

“These are her friends,” Pyramus snapped. “She can associate just fine with them.”

Her father knelt down in front of Finneon, who was breathing hard and staring up at this… admiral person with wariness.

“It’s alright, Finney,” he said. “You’re fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Finneon turned to look up at her father and nodded, mouth still open.

“Mistress Wen and I need to talk to this… nice man about a few things. Why don’t you take Arry, Esh, and Frey and head home. I’m sure your folks already have dinner on the hearth.”

Each of the children in turn glanced at the bearded man before nodding to Pandora and rattling off goodbyes to her. Aria remained behind however, staring up at the bearded man for a long moment.

“Go on, Arry,” Persephone said.

The young Mazeroki pursed her lips, violet eyes narrowing at the bearded man. But she nodded to Persephone and gave Pandora a wave. “Bye, Dora.”

She ran off, quickly catching up to the others with long awkward strides. Pandora watched them go, crestfallen.

“We’ll have to see about private tutors,” the bearded man said.

Pandora’s mother shot him a look. “We can talk about that later,” Persephone said.

Pandora took a long look at the man. He was quite old, face creased with deep furrows. His skin was pale, like crumpled parchment, with many wrinkles around his hard green eyes. Those eyes. Pandora actually took a step back, looking at those. They had a hard edge. Like he had taken a long hard look at the world and the people around him, and had found both to be extremely wanting.

“Dora,” Pyramus said, kneeling down before Pandora. “This is Admiral Ahriman Kirwin.” He gestured to the bearded man. “He’s come to talk to you about… Well… what happened when you were born.”

“The miracle,” Pandora asked. That was what her parents had always called it.

Persephone grinned and ran a hand through Pandora’s hair. “Yes, sunshine. The miracle.”

Pandora stared anxiously at the Admiral. Even at that age, she’d known the tale. Her parents had told her the story many times. They’d been visiting Hoarfrost for one of their many Guild experiments when her mother had gone into labor. It had been risky to travel in her condition but the Beta’s had needed Tertia expertise on some tracking assignment and her parents were among the guild’s best. Time had been of the essence and there’d been no one closer at the time. The risk hadn’t been worth it. Pandora had been born cold, barely breathing, and almost no heartbeat. It had been the last act of the Krystarium’s greatest hero to give Pandora a shot at life, at the expense of his own. It had been the nature of that final act that had led to Kirwin’s presence that day, and his presence in her life ever since.

She looked up at this stern looking Admiral Kirwin. Those eyes again. She did not like the way he stared at her, as though she had done something wrong. As though she had done many things wrong.

“Am I in trouble?” She had asked.

“You aren’t, sunshine,” Pyramus said. “You aren’t. We just…” Pyramus looked back at Persephone. “We need to talk about your future.”

Well, the future was now. And while from the outside it seemed like perks and accolades and soirees in her honor, in reality it was loneliness and sorrow and knives in the dark.

*****

“Even the straight path has many forks, if one but steps to the side.“

Change: The 10th Law of Causality

From The Prima Causa

Interpreted in Year 47 of The 7th Century AE.

by Indra Hadur, Born of Nukare, under Bhazima