“More hostile activity from beyond Khodra’s rings. That cult of heretics is responsible, I know it. I can hear their foul tongue from a light-year away—only distance helps me resist it. I can only imagine what they did to those they captured—what they will become.”

—Chidron Nordon Qertai of the deep-world Fialor, in a letter imploring Allegiant General Jindar Morgenstern to intervene in an attack

Zaina said, “You—you’re just like me!”

The woman scoffed, her expression disinterested. She pulled out a flask and gulped down a swig. “Yeah right, kid.”

Zaina’s nostrils wrinkled from the sharp stench of the woman’s drink. It smelled like the swamp-mead her father fermented in the warm seasons back home. She stared on, hoping this person wasn’t who Elest had picked to teach her.

There was still a chance of making a good first impression. “Well, hello, my name is Zaina Quin.”

The woman looked Zaina up and down, sighed, and said, “Okay, got it.”

Not sure how to keep the conversation going, Zaina asked, “Um—are you my mentor?”

Leaning against the wall, the woman said, “Hate to break it to you, kid, but you got screwed on this one. I’ve never mentored anyone. Much less anyone, ‘just like me.’ And I have no intention of starting now.”

Zaina was put off guard by the mockery but kept her questions on point. “So, wait—you’re a teacher who purposely doesn’t—”

“I’m not a teacher,” the woman replied in a cold voice. “I’m a regular lancer. Nothing less, nothing more. That scud-sucker Vae put us together because he hates us. He knows I don’t want to train anyone, but he’s going to waste my time with it anyway. My advice? It’s going to get a lot worse—quit while you’re ahead.”

Zaina’s eye twitched. She had a limit. “There’s no need to be so rude.”

The woman glared. “Why, because you’re, ‘just like me?’”

“It sounds like you want me to fail!”

The woman shrugged. “Yeah, if I actually cared about the outcome, I probably would lean that way.”

Zaina was furious. “So you’ve just decided you aren’t going to teach me anything, and that’s it Can I get a different mentor?”

The woman shook her head. “Nope. I’d suggest you drop out and save us both the trouble—and yourself the embarrassment. I have no time to drag you along anywhere.”

“So—what am I supposed to do, then?” Zaina asked. “There’s so much I need to know, isn’t there?”

The woman shrugged. “Not really. You have it or you don’t.”

With a defeated sigh, Zaina asked, “Well, can you at least give me the okay to use whatever’s in here?”

With an uncaring sideways nod, the woman said, “Sure, why not? You probably can’t tell a grenade from a guard anyway.”

Zaina’s brain was on fire, burning with dislike for this woman. Every word that came from her mouth only further enraged Zaina.

I came here because I thought I could do something good. Gir thought so, too.

Gir hadn’t been in her life for very long, but she still missed him. At least he wanted to help her—unlike whoever this was.

Even if he didn’t have time because the world was ending. What’s her excuse?

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

After a deep breath, she shook her head and fought back tears.

I’m sorry, Gir. I should have done more. I should have—oh, what’s the point?

Zaina frowned and reached for an equipment bag under one of the shelves. Many of the objects were odd and unintuitive. She reached for a particle hook-gun identical to the two Gir had. Both had saved Zaina’s life. Taking special care, she secured hers in the utility belt. Within a few minutes, Zaina had a little bit of everything available.

The woman picked at her nails and snickered every so often. Zaina was never sure why but was positive she was the butt of the joke.

After tying the top of the bag, Zaina slung it over her shoulder and walked up to the woman. She didn’t make any effort to hide her annoyance. “Can I help you?”

“I’m ready to leave now. You’re my ride—right?”

The woman groaned. “Fine. But no small talk, and no questions.”

Zaina frowned. “Are you even going to tell me your name?”

“Gods, I hope not,” the woman said.

The silence stretched until they were back at Zaina’s little dome. The woman’s was further down in the forest, obscured by the treeline. Without a word, she left. Zaina shook her head.

Unbelievable. He really did get me the worst mentor of all time.

Still, this wasn’t over. She’d show them—all of them. If that woman didn’t want to help Zaina, she’d learn by herself.

First thing’s first, though. Zaina patted her stomach. I need some food. And some sleep couldn’t hurt. But then, they’ll see. They’ll all see.

-

The next morning Zaina sprang up and set out to master her equipment. The utility belt was fully customizable—so many pockets. It fit a little loosely.

She shrugged. Eh. Maybe I’ll get another one.

There were so many new things to decipher. First, she tested out a tiny, handheld tube—she twisted its cap; it started to beep, so she un-twisted it. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as the beeping stopped.

Okay, I’ll bet that one’s a grenade or something.

She grabbed the next thing, a small pistol-shaped object with a small vis-screen where the mag-hammer would ordinarily be. Pointing it, she was able to zoom in on a starship landing on one of the hovering islands above, and a small readout with flashing numbers and symbols showed on the vis-screen.

A scanner gun. Deril would’ve loved that. I bet it’ll be handy.

Next was an elastisynth band that held a small, semi-flat gray square. On the square’s surface was another identical engraving to the beacon—but at its nexus was a small, raised metal circle. It looked like the wrist-mounted vis-screens she’d seen a few people here using, but she wasn’t sure. Zaina put the band on her wrist and hoped this wasn’t some kind of time-detonation device.

Here goes nothing.

She tapped the top, and a vis-screen popped up. It displayed her name for a second, then moved to an empty background with a few icons. She’d used vis-screens before, back in university in Ryrda—that felt like so long ago now. She didn’t want to think about that.

One of the icons was labeled Lessons. Zaina clicked it and found a list of tutorials ranging from equipment function to maintenance, and even some guides on magick. She grinned from ear to ear. The keys to the kingdom were in her hand.

Who needs a mentor, anyway?

The first piece of equipment on the list was captioned Hex-Guard. She remembered the woman mentioning something about a guard, so she tapped the holo-icon. A small informational screen popped up. The picture showed a hand and arm with two straps around their wrist and arm and a plate with a dial on their inner forearm. The top-view diagram showed a thin, flexible metal strip running along the outer forearm, with connector wires feeding into the straps.

A voice hummed to life from within the device. “Hello, Zaina. I am your vis-glyph. You have selected the tutorial on Hex-Guard. Is that correct?”

“Y-yes,” she said. “Can I just read it?”

“Affirmative,” the voice said, then quieted.

Zaina found the guard—she had two, apparently—and put it on her arm. Like the bindings she was arrested in, the hex-guard was segmented and shrank to fit her limb; the elastisynth was a bit more forgiving than the metal, and it hugged tightly in place without so much as a pinch. The device didn’t hinder her arm’s movement at all.

Reading on, Zaina muttered to herself, “Turn the dial—different intensity—settings—okay, let’s try it out.”

She stepped outside, not bothering to close her door. The hex-guard’s dial was set on a flat, green dot on the bottom. Zaina clicked it out of place, and the device emitted a soft hum. A shield of interwoven green and yellow tinted hexagonal outlines, each made of pure energy, projected six inches above her forearm. It wasn’t more than a foot in diameter.

She twisted the dial further, and the shield expanded. Twisting it all the way, it extended to form a bubble around her body.

“That’s so cool!” she said, rapidly growing and re-shrinking it. Then, without thinking, she reached out with her other hand and touched the energy shield—a burning, shocking sensation coursed through her entire arm. “OW!”

She pulled her hand back, shaking it to be rid of the pain—to no avail. Really not sure what I was expecting, there.

A voice startled her. “Are you really that stupid?”

Zaina jumped—then groaned. She recognized the voice—her ever-helpful mentor. Turning her head, Zaina’s ear proved correct.